#their shoes were a vision I do not yet have the skill to achieve

[ministarfruit]

goth tempurple POWER!!

[kenxmatsui]

He scoffed at the reply to his incomplete question but it didn't echo derision or scorn that would normally be tied to it, no this was a sound in agreement, a subtle nod accompanying to show that it was something he wished too. There had been moments where he had considered taking a potion just to feel that relief, to free his mind for a few hours from a bombardment of thoughts but would there be any peace to that? That would be him asking the world to allow him a few hours of respite, to lay his head without worry, without having to be on guard, he could not be so careless to want such a thing. Even then, even if by some miracle that could've been achieved, who was to say his mind would still afford the calmness? Ken certainly did not wish to revisit the nightmares that haunted him, it had been hard enough adjusting to the visions that played each time he blinked after the ordeal of dying, they lingered long after and continue still but it's easier in waking hours to cast them aside. To sleep would be willingly allow them to have free reign and he would not be so stupid again.

It had been the quiet sounds of pen on parchment he figured now that drew him over, and looking down at the drawings that Julian chose to display, Ken hummed low, "Not bad." Art had only ever been a thing of admiration, from a distance that too, he did not posses that talent nor he did try to expand his skill set into that field. Only when he glanced up and back at the man did Ken catch onto the tucked away expressions, behind the pitched up smiles there was a different story. This, observations and assessments on people and how they behaved was a skill that Ken cultivated and perfected through the years, picking on micro-expressions, be it a tick of lips or silent yet wide eyes of surprise, he had to in some respect be on the lookout for such things, his profession demanded one to be eagled-eyed if they wanted to succeed and Ken strove for perfection. He saw Julian's expressions, the crooked smile and words that deterred from the truth, and it was fine. Some things were not for strangers to talk on, not that he was a stranger to the man but Ken didn't know beyond a few things -- the baseline he maintained for anyone, and it really was hard to jump that fence to more than casual passers by. Noting his observations without further outward action, Ken tucked them away, perhaps it might come up in conversation, perhaps not, he could leave right now and be on his way, leave the other to draw on other pages that held his focus, it was fine either way. Glancing away and towards to the sky with its bright moon and twinkling stars, Ken blew the last puff of smoke upwards, clouding the serene view and polluting the crisp night air with the stench of cigarettes, why should things be so idyllic? "Doing the one thing I'm really good at," he answered, crushing the butt under his shoe, "Smoking."

At that comment, Ken did huff something akin to a laugh, recalling that night didn't need a lot of effort. His intentions to help did not stem from anything genuine, at least not for other, only with Rohan was he kind, perhaps Billie too but they had been on their own little hunt. But with Julian, immoral as he knew himself to be, it was exactly like said, he was stopping something downright stupid no one deserved such a fate. "I don't need to be thanked for that, had I walked away and not done anything Briar likely would have my head." It was a joke but he really wouldn't put it past her if Ken hadn't done something, "Or at least scream at me. Believe me, you deserved worse that night, think of it as a casual toss more than a punt, could've been worse. For that you're welcome." Memories of that night still sparked irritation in him, and that only increased in the aftermath, light illuminating the damage caused both physical and hidden, he walked on glass after that moment, ready to snap at anyone and anything. Emotion that he controlled now when he felt thoughts shifting to Leyla, he had not been there and ... Ken lit another cigarette, "I chain smoke," he spoke, not really needing to explain but it was something to fill the silence, "Does that bother you?" He likely wouldn't care if it did, but that would give more reason to walk away. "If I thought you were in my way I would've made the clear at the beginning but no, this is not my bench. Is it yours?" Lungs filling with smoke calmed him a little, nicotine was an addiction now if only it had a lasting effect. "Do you normally come out in the middle of the night to draw lighthouses?"

He had dreaded this day ever since last year. A year was a long time, and yet it appeared to have come and gone in the blink of an eye. As Julian saw the date on his kitchen calendar, marked with a red circle around it, a strange feeling fell over him. Memories of lights and loud music, of hundreds of bodies swarming a dance floor and moving to the beat, and there he stood at the edge of the dance floor, in a fuchsia polo sweater and jeans, laughing as he plopped chip after chip in his mouth. It was all so innocent in retrospect, absolutely nothing to hint at what was to come. And then all at once, it changed. When he thought hard enough on the memory, Julian suddenly could feel the sensation of his throat closing up, the burning clawing from within to take a deep gasp of air only to realize it wasn’t possible. The horrifying panic as you realized the air was being cut from your lungs and slowly thereafter the rest of your body started shutting down. He had to slap himself a number of times to shake off the memory, to come out of a trance and remind himself that wasn’t happening now. That was a long time ago. And he had survived it, and moved past it. That’s what he said, and how he acted. On the outside, he seemed perfectly okay, but the truth… Even in his every day life, smiling and laughing with friends, or enthusiastically leading paint and sip nights, even wrapped up in the affectionate embrace of his sweet, beautiful Rose… He still felt like he was back there, laying on that dance floor and slowly decaying. Decomposing, forever.

The scritch scratch of his pen against textured paper had been his companion in that late hour. He had detangled himself from a sleepy Briar some time ago, leaving a post it note saying he’d gone to find a bite to eat (“Sorry Thumper” scrawled in the margin) and that he would be back by morning with a chocolate croissant and her go-to coffee order. And he would, he was a man of his word and the last he wanted was for Briar-Rose to suspect him of anything but being perfectly fine. Because he was. He was alive, wasn’t he? The longer he sat there, brushing line after line against the sketchbook, the more he thought he could just disappear into the moment, and maybe just spend the rest of the dreaded day alone. Briar might worry if you’re not there like you promised, she might ask questions. He didn’t need that. There was another woman who worried about him constantly, and tried so often to ask him questions but he evaded every one. And it was from pure memory, one that he feared was fading, that he was able to capture her likeness on the page. Julian paused his movements as he brushed in her wavy dark hair, the kind he inherited from her, and he felt a thickening in his throat. No, it’s okay, you can breathe. Just breathe. He sniffled and let out a staggering breath as a response to the thought, staring down at the warm visage of his mother on paper. The mother who tried to call him, almost every day, even if he ignored practically every one. The few he answered he kept brief, uncomfortably short. Hadn’t Ralph cautioned that it would be hard but necessary to let go? Why couldn’t he just let go? He stared at the other faces on the paper — his stoic eldest brother, then the middle Chandler boy with his easy going smirk, and finally his proud father. How long was it now since he last talked to Russell Chandler, really tried to have a conversation with him? God, must have been years. Would he get the chance to do it right, before it was too late? Was he losing time? He could hear the ticking of the clock, on how much time he had to approach the remnants of his human life, but how much longer did he have? Was he holding the last fistful of sand in the hourglass before it fully trickled away? His throat constricted at the thoughts. Breathe, Jules, just breathe.

He decided then it would be best to turn the page, to focus on something else, so he slowly flipped through unfinished pages, trying to find something to focus on, the edge of his vision blurring as he flipped through sketches of scenery, of people and their dogs in the park, of figures going about their normal every day lives in Lunar Cove, of the Green Hornet and its eccentric owner, of his best friend who was finally living her life more freely, of the woman who captured his heart and soul, and held them in the palm of her hand whether she knew it or not. Vibrant vignettes of the world around him that breathed and lived and was so, so, so wonderful and beautiful. And he was a staggering corpse, rotting his way through it. He paused, on a page with sketches pertaining to some of those happy, idyllic childhood memories he fixated on during late nights like this. Smiling younger Julian in a Mets hat, a shocking and pleasantly grinning Conrad Chandler beside him, drawn off a picture taped to the inside of his guitar case back home. Scribbled over, because he couldn’t take the sight of it. The vein in his jaw jumped. Why’d it have to be him? Why was he the sacrificial lamb, herded to slaughter without really knowing it was coming, not until barely the last moment. Why, why, why — the question he forbade himself from asking in the year since came to the forefront of his mind as he looked at a stapled photograph of a young Julian seated at a piano with his mother beside him, and a half finished drawing of it beside it on the page. A cherry red ‘X’ was scrawled boldly over his own face.

Julian was pulled from the thoughts when he heard the approach of another. He knew he was there before Ken came into the moonlight, having heard the scuff of his shoes upon the ground. Flipping to another, less intimate, page of sketches, Julian brushed a hand over his face to be sure it was not wet, frowning at himself when his fingers came back with the remnants of tears upon them, and quickly cleared his face before the other came fully into view. “I wish,” he said to the unfinished comment. He thought he had heard they could choose to sleep, but Julian didn’t want to. He knew what horrific memories awaited in the recess of his mind if he were to close his eyes, and he didn’t want to focus on that. He was sunshine, and warmth, and all things positive. He wouldn’t let this get him down. He couldn’t. Not when others around him were breaking, not when he was already useless enough. He shook the thoughts away as he looked up from the sketchbook to Ken. At his question, Julian waved the book and pen in the air. “The only thing I’m half good at,” he joked with a crooked smile, resuming an unfinished drawing of the lighthouse on its crag in the ocean. “What are you doing — looking to stop other idiot young vampires from making stupid, life altering decisions?” He winced at the memory he referenced, that hellish night and the moment he thought he wanted a taste of forbidden fruit. He rubbed at the back of his neck, where Ken had grabbed him and flung him aside. “Did I ever thank you for that, because, well… I really am grateful, you know. Not so much for the punting me aside, but for, well… you know…” He trailed off, quiet and uncomfortable as he stared at his stilled pen against the paper. “Am I, like… on your bench or something?” He asked after a moment, wishing to brush past the awkwardness of recounting that terrible encounter.

[softcallofdutyimagines]

More Then a Woman | Frank Woods x Fem!Reader | Chapter 3

Summary:

Woods is out for his usual, morning run. Everything is fine... you know, except that it goes just about as bad as it usually has been lately. With results even less stellar then usual and a weight of worry unlike anything he's felt as of yet on top of it, could a chance meeting with you be enough to turn things as bleak as this around?

Tags: Slow burn, fluff

Chpt 1 | Chpt 2 | Chpt 4 | Warnings: None except language

No music, no people, and just the barest rays of sunlight.

It’s just after seven am, and Frank is out for his morning run.

Every morning starts off like this, just him and the road, while he organizes his thoughts for the day. Most days he plans out all the shit he has to do and measuring out his time into neat compartments, but lately…

He can’t get his mind off of you.

A single sound byte of you calling him complete with varying, imagined inflections from that one day with Mason, plays over and over again.

Sargent! Sargent Woods! Woods! Woods!

Woods…

A small, secretive part of him wishes he could hear you call him Frank. Just once.

Or... no.

No, he doesn’t.

This is crazy. Even if he ignores the fact that he’s met you a grand total of twice in his entire life… He doesn’t have time for a, a girlfriend. Besides, you’re young and pretty… two things of which he is not. How does he know you don’t have someone already? And, for argument’s sake, let’s say you didn’t. Why the fuck would you want him?

Such is the state of the ongoing debate in his mind.

Woods shakes his head, breathing hard and attempting to refocus on the road before him. He checks his watch and picks up the pace. He’s behind again.

In fact, it’s been far too long since he’s reached a new best, no matter how hard he pushes. He runs and he runs until his lungs burn like a knife in his chest and an eerie darkness creeps into the edges of his vision. At last, he can’t go on any further, and slows to a walk. Gasping for air and dripping sweat, he trudges up to the lamp post he’s been using as a finish line and gives it a tap.

With a great heave of breath, he checks his watch a final time. Off from his best by nearly a whole minute this morning.

He runs a hand through his soaked hair, every inch of his face down to the very air he breathes conveys his dismay and suddenly he feels far too aware of his own body. The fine lines and creases slowly drawing in around his eyes and forehead. The chilly kiss of wind as it blows over patches of his scalp that he swears it didn’t use to. The clicking and dull, constant ache in his back and joints.

And suddenly the dreaded phrase, “getting too old” worms into his mind.

The street light shuts off, pulling him out of the thought induced stasis. He wipes his forehead and takes a look around. Not a soul in sight. Normally he’d find such conditions ideal, but suddenly, he feels very... alone.

All this life lived so far, and what does he have to show for it?

A case of medals, a shitload of exclusive skills and tactics, and… and…?

An empty, hollow house to bar out the rest of the world? A cold bed for two, one side always perfectly made and never disturbed? A fridge of beer and a cable tv, always set to the same, droning channel, to give the illusion of company as he drinks alone on Friday nights?

What happens when he retires and the fighting is done?

These... things. These meaningless, empty things, will be all he has left.

For all the gruff exterior. All the ‘fuck you’ and ‘watch this’ attitude. All the pomp, and arrogance, and pride, and passion, and creativity, and humor, and zeal for life and living… Is it too much to wish that, maybe, he had someone to share it all with?

Fuck.

Lost in his thoughts once more, his breath hitches as his shoe kicks a familiar glass door. He looks up and reads the sign. It’s the same coffee shop he stops at every morning after a good, hard run well done.

Frank looks down and gives his ever so slight, and yet slowly ever developing, gut a pat. Ugh, he winces. He remembers a time when he was still able to say ‘his abs.’

For a moment, he considers skipping this time, but… fuck it.

He orders his usual and a plain bagel for breakfast as he goes to find a seat. As of now, he has the whole place to himself, but before he can go back to reflecting on his own loneliness again, the door chimes and a lone figure power walks in. Frank nearly spits out his bagel in an effort not to choke as he watches you hustle up to the register in a sharp, white pantsuit.

You look… like… an angel. Draped in white and floating across the floor in the loose, but flattering fabric. It’s then that he catches that same fluttering feeling in his chest, just as he did when you were calling for him last time. He doesn’t even realize he’s staring until you turn around and catch his gaze.

“Oh, hey!”, you smile and wave politely, even bothering to make your way over while you wait on your order.

Woods snaps to attention, ripped out of his daydream at the sound of your voice. He takes in a sharp breath as he sits up a little straighter, hoping against hope that he looks more impressive then he’s been feeling thus far.

“Good morning Sargent, wh-”

“Frank”, he grunts, realizing a bit too late that he sounds far too harsh. “Uh, please. You know, I’m off duty and all...”, he trails off, taking a convenient sip of coffee to mask the awkwardness.

You make an ‘ah’ shape with your mouth and give a nod. “Frank”, you give the name a test and, as far as he can tell, decide that you like it. With a smile, you ask if you can join him at the table and introduce yourself by name in the process.

And in that moment, he commits it to memory where, from then on, it will stay safely locked away, exactly as you said it, til the day he dies.

“So, what are you doing out so early?”, you laugh.

He quickly explains he’s been out for a run, hoping that you won’t press for details. Luckily, you do not, and he takes the opportunity to ask you the same question. Likewise, you quickly explain that you’re headed to work and running a bit behind.

After that, it feels like you’re out of conversation material, and a thick silence settles between you. But, before things get too awkward, Frank decides to pick up the conversation, “So, uh… I’ve been meaning to uh, apologize…”

You cock your head in confused interest, but say nothing.

“You know, when we first met and all… I um, I’m sorry I said that stupid shit before I left like that. I don’t want you to think I’m… you know, crazy or something, heh”, he laughs humorlessly, and looks away, itching at the back of his neck nervously.

“Hm? Oh, it’s no trouble, I honestly forgot about it for a moment there”, you laugh, and it’s the nicest sound he’s ever heard. Like a fresh breeze in summer, carrying with it the smell of clean linens on the line and warm grass….

Your eyes smile deeply into his as he holds your gaze. For the briefest of moments, he feels connected to and understood by another human being like he never has before.

He takes a breath and it's as though he can feel the very scene he described. Gone is the smell of stale coffee beans and dried sweat. No more pain in his lungs or cramps in his legs. No more worrying about all the years and age slowly building onto him. No more haunting fear of loneliness.

Just the sensation of you.

Without his perception, his rough, callused hand slides in stuttering increments closer and closer still in the direction of yours. And just like that, the trance is broken as the barista calls your name. You jerk your head around to look, and the broken eye contact brings Woods screeching back into reality. He blinks and refamiliarizes himself with his surroundings.

Everything looks… dull in comparison to the vivid daydream held in your eyes.

You look back towards him, wearing that same smile, “Well it’s been nice catching up, but I have to go…”, you reach out and give his hand a friendly squeeze, “Take care now!”

The Sargent tries to return the sentiment, but all he can manage is a winded sounding grunt. He never knew someone’s skin could feel so soft. And warm.

Even after you’ve left for the door, his entire arm is still buzzing with electricity as every nerve from the tips of his fingers to the length of his spinal column light up with an excitement that he couldn’t put to words in a thousand years.

He brings up that same hand to where he can see it, turning it over slowly and flexing his fingers experimentally, as though noticing the extremity for the first time. It feels… new, after coming in contact with your disarming touch, and suddenly he doesn’t feel so aged and wizened as he was just minutes ago.

And when he’s good and through with his coffee and bagel, he makes up his mind to achieve something he hasn’t in a long time… With a few hops to limber up and a deep breath for luck, he manages a run all the way back home.

[kristal-dawn-art]

Jujutsu Kaisen OC Reika

I couldn’t resist, so here’s my OC for JJK. 

Name: Kougetsu Reika (紅月霊花) Alias: Rei Species: Human; sorcerer Birthday: August 30 Zodiac sign: Virgo Age: 16 Gender: Female Height/Weight: 163cm/ (5’4” Hair/Eye Color: Deep auburn/dark gold Status: Alive Relatives: Kougetsu Toshihiro (father); Kougetsu Mika (mother); Gojou Satoru (distant relative); Okkotsu Yuta (distant relative)  Occupation: Student/Jujutsu Sorcerer Affiliation: Kougetsu Clan; later Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School

More info under the cut XD; 

Appearance: Reika has fair skin, dark golden eyes, and deep auburn hair that she wears in a side ponytail with a 3-part fringe. She favors comfortable clothing that is easy to move in, with a typical outfit consisting of a purple shirt paired with a gray-and-pink jacket, denim skirt, dark leggings and running shoes. Her school uniform consists of a purple tank top tucked into a short pleated uniform skirt. Leggings, running shoes, and a short-sleeve uniform jacket complete the look.

Personality: Reika enjoys observing others as much as she loves interacting with them - well, as much as she can observe given her situation - and because of how sheltered she’d been before enrolling at Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School (aka Jujutsu Tech), she jumps at the chance to befriend someone. She’s fairly straightforward in her words and actions, whichever is more appropriate in a given situation. While not too much of a conversationalist, she’s happy to keep someone company, if she feels they need it. 

For the most part, she wears her emotions on her sleeve, and her tone of voice is a very good indicator of how she’s feeling. Rarely does she feel the need to hide her emotions, but when she does, she does it fairly well. Being a studious sort, she dislikes it when someone interrupts another person while they’re explaining something, and will often clap a hand over the offending party’s mouth.

She’s not that good at picking up on tension in a room, so to speak, but she can make a good guess at how people are feeling, and if they’re feeling down, she’ll try to help them feel better. Overall, she likes knowing she can help others, and is happy to play the support role whenever on assignment. She also hates ‘seeing’ someone get hurt, whether or not they show they’re in pain. Even while worrying for someone, she’s able to keep a cool head, and will choose her next actions in such a way that she’ll have time to tend to the injured person if necessary.

ABILITIES AND POWERS

Overall skill level: At present, Reika is a strong Grade 2 sorcerer, though her precise control of and sensitivity to cursed energy, plus the speed at which she masters different forms and applications of her inherited technique makes it possible for her to move on to being at least a semi-Grade 1. 

Extreme sensitivity and energy control: Because she is both deaf and blind, Reika’s other senses plus her ability to sense cursed energy are all highly enhanced. She can feel movement through minute changes in air pressure and thanks to her Curse Sensing, and reading the flow of another’s cursed energy tells her also how much was expended. Training also helped her get a feel for how much energy she has to use to get a certain effect.

Enhanced mobility: Reika’s training to use cursed energy to fuel her movements has improved her speed and reflexes. So while not as fast as individuals like Yuuji or Maki who have innate physical talent, Reika is still able to move very well in combat, with little to no wasted movement. 

Competent combatant: Even though her training and her personal preference had her focus on defensive applications of her technique, she can still do a reasonable amount of damage when necessary and thus can hold her own reasonably well.

JUJUTSU Cursed Energy Manipulation Great Cursed Energy: Reika’s inherited technique, overall, takes much cursed energy to use, even if the individual techniques don’t use a lot. Training further helped Reika learn to conserve her energy and use the appropriate technique for a situation. This, combined with the overall effect of the Kougetsu clan’s inherited technique, means that Reika has a high amount of cursed energy to work with at any given time. Drawn-out fights are challenging for her, but alternating between manipulating her opponent’s energy and her own can help her last longer, though not without taking a toll on her body.

Inherited Technique Hands of Tsukuyomi. Believed to be an offshoot of Limitless, this technique hinges on users being able to manipulate both their own cursed energy and an opponent’s to achieve a variety of effects. At its most basic and on the surface level, Hands of Tsukuyomi can disguise or suppress the user’s cursed energy, allowing them to pass as civilians. Users may also gain enhanced speed and mobility by fueling their movements with cursed energy, and increasing the impact of any physical attacks they may employ. The technique’s more advanced forms let users divert cursed energy, absorb it, and amplify the effects of an ally’s technique. Extremely advanced applications of the technique see users manipulating light to distort what opponents see, and even unleashing a barrage of compressed light over a desired area.

All forms fall under one of four phases, each one focusing on a particular general effect. Full Moon focuses on amplification, Waning Moon covers absorption, Crescent Moon deals with redirection, and New Moon focuses on negation. Regardless of form, the user needs precise control to achieve the desired effect. Only a handful of users are able to use more than 2 phases, and while they can and do master at least one, true Hands of Tsukuyomi masters are able to use forms from all four, flowing from one to another depending on the situation. Reika herself is regarded by her family to be a highly gifted user as she is only one of three Kougetsu sorcerers so far who have learned to use Hands of Tsukuyomi to heal themselves and others. 

In most cases, activating a technique requires a specific series of hand seals from a fixed set of 12, based on the lunar zodiac, and the user concentrating on the desired effect, including range (if any) and the target. The only techniques so far that don’t require these seals are Reika’s Curse Sensing, Tidal Flow, and Shroud.

Benefits: 

Users being able to reflect an opponent’s cursed energy and any effects of these back at the original user (e.g. a user would be able to deflect Mahito’s “Idle Transformation” and possibly cause him to transform instead into a form he wasn’t planning) along with the precise control of their own cursed energy allows them to last longer in combat, compared to if they were to rely on their cursed energy alone. 

Users are also able to increase the effectiveness, strength, range, or duration of techniques when using more energy than typically required. For instance, users can move twice as fast when fueling their movements, or reflect more than one cursed technique simultaneously.  

Drawbacks:

The stronger the opponent, the more difficult it is to make their technique rebound completely; the user will either have to use more cursed energy, or deal with the technique in a different way (absorb or negate it). 

The more powerful forms take longer to master and use up a lot of cursed energy, so if they’re countered or don’t work out as well, the user may be worse off than if they hadn’t used said forms.

Overuse causes users to suffer from paralysis in one or two limbs, an inability to speak, blurred vision, muscle pain, or a combination of any of those. The more powerful the form that was last used, the bigger the toll it takes on the body. In the worst-case scenario, a user may pass out from the physical and mental strain.

Techniques:

Full Moon: Zenith (満月: 天頂 ; Mangetsu: Tenchou) After activating the technique, Reika lays a hand on an ally and channels some of her cursed energy into them the moment they deploy a technique of their own, thereby strengthening it (e.g. Fushiguro’s shikigami will be harder to destroy) or amplifying the effect (e.g. Inumaki’s cursed speech won’t create as much of a backlash).

Full Moon: Moonbeam (満月: 月光; Mangetsu: Gekkou) Reika compresses light and unleashes it in a barrage of beams that she can direct freely, and even redirect if they haven’t made contact yet. The bigger the area of effect, the fewer the projectiles launched.

Waning Moon: Afterimage (下弦の月: 残像 ; Kagen no Tsuki: Zanzou) -description to be added-

Waning Moon: Kaleidoscope (下弦の月: 万華鏡; Kagen no Tsuki: Mangekyou) Reika alters the surroundings to conceal her and her allies’ location while also setting up a protective barrier. While active, the barrier absorbs the energy from cursed techniques targeting her or her ally, creating a well for Reika to tap into later. This takes a lot of concentration, so if she’s distracted, the barrier fails to absorb the energy, thus exposing the illusion.

Crescent Moon: Mirror (三日月: 鏡; Mikazuki: Kagami) Reika controls the trajectory (?) of another individual’s cursed energy, turning it back on them or onto a different target. The effect is usually instantaneous and she doesn’t have to keep the technique activated, unless the user is of a higher grade. When that happens, she needs to keep it active until the redirected energy hits the new target. This technique doesn’t work against special-grade opponents, though, and is tricky to use when there are more than two opponents.

Crescent Moon: Haze (三日月: 朧; Mikazuki: Oboro) A more advanced form that Reika is still trying to master. In theory, she would be able to arrest the flow of cursed energy from multiple targets, making it appear as if their techniques were deactivated. Then, she’d redirect the trajectory of each one (e.g have Kamo’s arrows target someone else, or make Hanami’s plants grow in a different direction) before letting the attacks go through to their new targets. Reika left Jujutsu Tech not long after enrolling to learn this technique from a relative.

New Moon: Disruption (新月: 破壊; Shingetsu: Hakai) This technique enables Reika to negate or forcibly deactivate a technique deployed by someone else. However, both her feet need to be planted - similar to the Simple Domain - and the user whose technique she wishes to deactivate must be within 10 meters of her. 

New Moon: Umbra (新月: 本影; Shingetsu: Honei) An advanced version of Disruption that Reika is still trying to master, it functions similarly to a Simple Domain, but instead of requiring the feet to stay set at the point the technique was deployed, it calls for Reika to keep her hands in the necessary seal and concentrating on keeping the flow of energy around her constant. Its range is just 3 meters, but Reika doesn’t need to stay grounded, so it’s more versatile and can be activated even in the air. This is another technique that Reika had to learn from a relative.

Others: 

Energy Sensing. Reika’s energy grid that she uses primarily for navigation, but can be used in combat and to sense approaching cursed spirits. Reika can quickly react to whatever information she gets from it. 

Tidal Flow. Reika uses cursed energy to enhance her actions in combat. 

Tidal Strike. Reika channels cursed energy into her hands or feet and compresses it for precise strikes; the effect is more slicing or piercing compared to the blunt force from, say, Itadori’s.

Shroud. A reversed curse technique involving Reika surrounding herself or others with negative cursed energy to heal injuries.

Barrier Techniques Eclipsing Light (食の光; Shoku no Hikari) Reika creates a protective barrier of compressed light around her and the target. While active, the barrier steadily absorbs the target’s cursed energy, preventing them from using any techniques. She then reverses the flow of the energy, releasing it in either a barrage of multiple projectiles from above or as a single, focused beam originating from her outstretched palms. The domain is still incomplete. 

Story: The only child of the current head of the Kougetsu Family, Reika was born both blind and deaf, which made both her parents reluctant to have her train as a sorcerer, even if she later proved to inherit their clan’s Cursed Technique.

As time passed, it became obvious that the little girl’s other senses were enhanced. Using vibrations in the ground and in the air, she was able to tell when someone nearby was talking or when something was being moved. She proved herself capable of using and controlling cursed energy earlier than other young sorcerers, soon figuring out how to lay strings of energy out in a grid pattern and using that to ‘see’ her surroundings. 

Because of her clan’s stance on sorcerer society and her parents’ protectiveness, she lived a sheltered life, rarely leaving the family compound and interacting only with family members and teachers brought in to tutor her. Eventually, however, Reika asked that she train in both hand-to-hand combat and the use of her Inherited Technique, arguing that she needed to be able to rely on herself as well, not just on family members, to keep herself safe. Toshihiro and Mika agreed, making sure she learned to suppress her cursed energy so she’d appear as a civilian to any sorcerers and cursed spirits, even when using her energy grid to navigate. The last thing they wanted was for their only child to be endangered, or to draw the attention of other sorcerers.

As her skills improved, Reika took to going out on her own to explore the city, eventually encountering cursed spirits. The harmless ones she left alone, but not the more threatening ones. She often led these back to the Kougetsu family compound for more experienced sorcerers to exorcise. At some point, however, she grew confident enough in her abilities and began exorcising spirits herself when she perceived they had less energy than she did and she could do so without endangering civilians. 

During one such outing, Gojou witnessed her luring a cursed spirit into an alley before exorcising it, and became intrigued when he learned the younger one could neither see nor hear - likely a result of a Heavenly Restriction. When his superiors learned of Reika, they called for her enrollment at Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School, reasoning that she’d need field training her family might be unable to provide. Reika’s parents were reluctant to let her go, but the young teen was eager to leave. For her, it was a chance to live away from her protective family members, to test her abilities as much as possible while keeping others safe - civilian or sorcerer - and to learn more about her role as a sorcerer. She entered Jujutsu Tech soon after the Kyoto Sister School Goodwill Event.

Trivia

Reika has to touch someone’s face or throat to be able to tell what they’re saying, using the vibrations to interpret the words. Otherwise, someone needs to sign into her palm to give her information directly. 

The Kougetsu Clan doesn’t condone the way sorcerers in Japan are treated, or how the society functions as a whole. Because of this, Kougetsu sorcerers went largely unregistered for 5 generations, their technique relatively unknown. Reika enrolling at Jujutsu Tech broke this pattern.

Reika aspires to be like Maki when it comes to hand-to-hand combat. 

When meeting someone for the first time, she asks if she can touch their face. To her, Gojou has a lively face, Fushiguro and Itadori both have kind faces, while Kugisaki’s is determined. Panda’s is friendly, Maki’s is strong, and Inumaki’s is gentle.

Reika says that different colors feel different to her, and she picks out clothing based on that. 

Seiyuu/VA: Nitta Emi (JPN)/Cherami Leigh (ENG)

[theothewitch]

New Year’s Tarot Spread

let me try to use my intuition to read tarot before i even understand/ research what the cards mean. i’m analyzing the images like how i do in art school.

this spread is a new years tarot spread I’ll write my intuitions before I research the meanings then I will put the actual meanings into bullet points. I rephrased the 2020 to 2021 in this spread.

ok.

overall i feel like it is going to be hard year, as in hard working year. lot’s of labour and i would need to remind myself to rest when I can.

1) What was an important lesson learned in 2020 which will be vital to this year's progress?

(King of Swords)

“ That I was really hard headed last year. and that I did take my place on the throne, like the king in the picture, by being valedictorian, leader of my collective. I (the king) look really stern and wilful that I can take anything that come’s my way.

I think i need to bring this perseverance & leadership through to this year, even though with 2020 it felt like it was a shit year and i didn’t do much after graduation because I am jobless fresh out of school into a pandemic. but actually I really did put the work into projects and my passions and hobbies, although I did not get paid much for it. Continue the professional work and standards you set yourself to have and your group as well.” 

  > Court Card, Vision, Truth, Power, Command, Authority, Law, Intelligence, reason, authority, discipline, integrity, morality, serious, high standards, strict 

  > The King of Swords radiates intellectual power, clear thinking, truth, and authority. He understands that power holds great responsibility. 

  > Because he rules over the suit of swords, he has a special connection to rules, laws, and diplomacy, which are systems of logical thought applied and manifest on earth.

2) What will be my biggest challenge to overcome this year?

( Seven of Wands )

“ It seems like this dude, that actually looks like me because we have the same hair is stressed/ working hard to stick wands into the ground. I think one challenge would be sticking my foundations down to get me going for the rest of the year, to survive, to fulfil my soul and passions, creating, earning money, jobs? priorities need to be set and pushed through. decisions to be placed down and grab the opportunities while you can. I know you are careful and want the best opportunities for yourself. But set a dateline, and stop being so indecisive!”

  > Faith, Standing your ground, protectiveness, standing up for yourself, defending yourself, protecting territory 

  > the man is wearing not matching shoes. This is linked to the symbolism of being on uneven ground or not having a stable footing in life.

  > The overall meaning of the Seven of Wands is to hold your ground, no matter what is challenging your position.

  > setting boundaries in relationship, fighting for romance / fighting off competition, defending your position, facing challenge /  protecting your financial stability, long term success

3) What energy can I work on transmuting to better serve me through 2021? 

( Ace of Wands )

“ It’s a glowing gift from the universe is what it looks like. I think I should work on actively finding inspiration, to fuel me and motivate me to create art. I think I should use my art to actively serve the world. Maybe create a product. Things in the act of giving. I need to be more giving. Resting. Motivation. Creating. Giving. to have vines sprouting out and growing. Stop pitying yourself and the hardships you’ve been through in 2020 and put your energy back into the world, give and interact with more people in your life, in peace, and kindness and give these things, time, to people.”

  > Creation, invention, beginnings, will power, desire, inspiration, creative spark, new initiative, new passion, enthusiasm, energy 

  > The Ace of Wands calls out to you to follow your instincts. If you think that the project that you've been dreaming of is a good idea, and then just go ahead and do it. 

4) What card represents where I'm currently at, moving into 2021?

(Reverse The Devil)

“ I understand the devil card is about balance. But since it is in reverse. I’ve been imbalanced. I’ve been entrapping myself in short-term pleasures, binge shopping when i’m broke, entrapped in my thoughts of others that are of myself, with the hurts and the pains of broken relationships, this past year needs to go. I need to remove the chain that’s already loose, lift it up and over. I’m moving into 2021 in new but low energy. having to renew myself and my direction. This is me wanting more other than the painful physicality of the world. Going into spirituality to help restore balance and realign my life.”

  > independence, freedom, revelation, release, reclaiming power, reclaiming control

  > The upside down meaning of the Devil card can be the moment when an individual becomes self-aware and breaks all of the chains that come with addiction and poor habits. It might be because they are tired of running in circles and are in need of change.  ( I must say this is where I am now, because even yesterday the devil card came out to a question of what was influencing me in the past )

  > But one thing is usually clear – breaking off these chains, especially those of addiction is never easy.

  > feeling more in control of love life, ending co-dependency/  more accountability in career path, feeling empowered at job/   breaking bad financial habits, feeling independent financially

( girlll, i might’ve interpreted it the opposite way haha )

5) What energy can I harness to get to where I want to be? 

( Nine of Pentacles )

“ Bright, warm, yellow energy. In nature. I need to go into nature more. Interact with lovely animals, eat grapes haha. Go into life and your decisions clear and positive. This serve a purpose for you even if it is money, money is to survive and to support yourself. The pentacles could mean financials, and that going into employment as I should, money won’t take over your life. There is the whole world outside of the office and indulge in mother nature and creations for a bright fulfilled life.”

  > rewarded efforts, success, achievement, independence, leisure, material security, self-sufficiency, prudence, safety, success, accomplishment, certitude, discernment 

  > The Nine of Pentacles conveys not only joy, but also the feeling of security and freedom that material wealth can bring.

  > There is something that is missing here - the element of her community and relationships. The gifts of the suits are meant to be shared, and yet this woman is so far from home.

 > Diplomacy and grace will lead to the desired outcome. 

6) What will be the main, overarching theme of 2021?

 (Four of Swords)

“ The lady seems like a warrior, resting and praying. with a golden sword by her side and other three hanging. I think that’s it, I’ll be a like a warrior when I work, and rest as hard as I do. Know that I am honing and using a skill I have in any and everything I’m doing, even if my other skills and talents are put to rest. ( like if i were to work an admin job, my artist lifestyle will still be here and still be part of me ) I think. It should be all in one sentence. Work hard and rest harder. Rest is where all my energy comes from. Charge your body. Charge your soul, keep in touch with your spirituality practices and you’ll be fine.” 

  > Rest, relaxation, peace, sanctuary, recuperation, self-protection, rejuvenation

  > In order to continue and re-emerge in your daily life, you must take the time now to take a breather. 

  > The Four of Swords is a moment of rest. Whether this is from a choice to withdraw, or whether it is from pure exhaustion, it is not clear.

  > The Four of Swords indicates it is time to gather new strength and prepare to face a new challenge. You have faced crisis after crisis, and it is wearing you out. 

  > withdrawing from love life, alone time, taking a break

taking a vacation, mental health day, rest, self-care

anxiety about finances, avoid overthinking about money

[hopeless-nostalgiac]

with all appliances and means to boot: ncis/tiva fic

for this challenge, @loudlooks​ requested Tiva + "I didn't know you could do that." thank you for the inspiration!! *hugs*

set summer between S3-4 w/ team dynamics & tiva (a LOT of tiva—they took over the fic, basically, and I’m not sorry about it) 

also, this turned out like eight times longer than I expected & was the most fun and freeing thing I’ve worked on in years, so

enjoy:) 

FFN

“I didn’t know you could do that!” 

McGee’s voice filtered over news-chattering televisions, incessantly ringing phones, and chicken-clacking keyboards to reach Tony at his desk. 

“There was no reason to mention it earlier. It is not exactly a useful skill, my friend.” Ziva’s full-throated chuckles were wind chimes amidst the office drudgery.

Tony shook off the eruption of gooseflesh on his arms. It was way too early for that. And McGee was babbling again.

“I’ve just never met someone in real life who could do it.”

“Really?!”

A boom of shared laughter enveloped them.

Glancing at the digital read-out on his monitor, Tony silently cheered. 9:07. Totally busted. Then he pretended to be busy with paperwork, so his attention was occupied ahead of time. 

The agents’ conversation lowered until it faded completely, coinciding with their entrance into the squadroom.

Tony had that effect on them now. The tables, as the saying went, had turned. They were the class troublemakers to his super-strict teacher. They, the unruly cadets, and he, the veteran drill sergeant. They were Agents; he was Boss. 

“Agent McGee. Officer David. You’re late.” 

McGee froze while swinging around his desk. Ziva froze after dropping her gear. Tony continued to stare yet not see the file in front of him, but he didn’t need visual confirmation to know the teammates were exchanging glances, coordinating their plan of counterattack. 

“Well, technically we were in the building on time.” The opening lob courtesy of McGee. 

“Technically, that’s not good enough, McTardy.”

“It was when you were wearing our shoes.” 

Tony fought an eye roll. “You can’t throw me off the scent with a well-timed idiom blunder, Officer David.” 

“Can’t I, Tony?” Ziva’s voice was louder, closer to him. 

Out of his peripheral vision, he spied her leaning on the divider between their workspaces. So close now, he caught a whiff of her lavender mint shampoo as she flicked at a cascade of curls that had fallen over her shoulder. If this was their strategy, well, it wasn’t the worst angle. 

But Tony DiNozzo was better. 

“No, you can’t,” he reiterated, finally gracing each of them in turn with his steady gaze. Calm, yet intense. Everything rumbling beneath the surface. “And it’s Agent DiNozzo. Or Boss.” 

Ziva stared back, golden-brown eyes matching his intensity, but not the calm. She rattled off a string of heated Hebrew, ending with a sharp snap of her teeth before spinning around on her heel and dropping heavily into her desk chair.  

Crazy chick.

“So, anyway. Just to be clear: If you’re here after me, you’re late. Period.” Tony slapped a case folder closed, causing his desk to tremble; he could emphasize his words, too. “For today, you can make amends by telling me whatever it is McGee didn’t know Ziva could do. I’m thinking it involves lots of stretching, but if there’s a video game reference, leave it out. Go!” 

And like that, authority forfeited for curiosity. 

McGee did roll his eyes and muttered something that suspiciously sounded like waste of time under his breath. Ziva scoffed, typing noisily at her computer and decidedly not looking in Tony’s direction. 

“That’s an order.” Even he didn’t buy the command. 

9:10. The day was shot. 

. . . 

If someone asked Tony how his first weeks as leader of MCRT were going, he’d say, “Good, considering the circumstances,” with a flash of white teeth. He didn’t like to lose face, sure, but he was pretty confident it was the truth, too.

Because when your boss quit and ran off to Mexico, leaving you in charge of a team that for years affectionately regarded you as The Class Clown, the circumstances weren’t on your side and ‘good’ was the most you could hope for.

. . . 

“What did you do?” 

Passing through the automatic doors, Tony came up short—as much due to the always assaulting antiseptic stench as the accusation. “Why do you assume I did something wrong? Can’t I come see my favorite Autopsy Gremlin with no ulterior motive?” 

“Sure you can,” Palmer called from the freezer section, where he was sliding a corpse home. “But I already talked to Abby, who talked to McGee.” 

Fantastic.

“So before, with the ‘what did you do?’...that was kind of redundant, huh?”

“Guess so.” A dorky chortle escaped the assistant. “I mean, seriously, they were only late by a couple minutes, Tony. Sorry, Agent DiNozzo.” Another hiccup of laughter. 

Great. Just great. 

“Gee, I was hoping I could escape some of the ridicule down here....” Tony pressed his palms against the cold steel of an autopsy table, shoulders hunched, depositing weight into the defeated stance. All his course-correcting tactics, including buying his team lunch, had done little to reverse the morning’s death blow. McGee and Ziva were ignoring him aside for a lone campfire, and then their interactions were clipped—aggressively so where the ex-assassin was concerned. Now the damage was spreading to the sub-basement, it seemed. 

“Look on the bright side, you’re the team leader. It’s what you’ve always wanted, right?” Palmer mirrored Tony on the other end of the table, adjusting his glasses before adding, “This is a bump in the road, but no one ever achieved greatness without first overcoming resistance.” 

“That’s wise, Palmer. For a man who talks to the dead. You wouldn’t happen to know—”

“What McGee didn’t know Ziva could do?” 

Tony blinked. Maybe they’d been underestimating the Autopsy Gremlin all along. “Yeah. Know anything about it?” 

“It’s not a big deal. We were at the bar last night and first the waitress got Abby’s drink order mixed up, but it was super busy, so I suggested that—”

“Sometime today, Palmer.” 

“Well, it turns out Ziva can knot a cherry stem with her tongue, and then...” 

Oh, it was more wondrous than he’d guessed (and that list was long).

Palmer’s rambling dissolved to the background of Tony’s thoughts. He couldn’t get to the audacity of everyone going out for drinks without him because the dexterity of Ziva’s tongue was front and center. As he was recently familiarized with that very tongue and the talented mouth it resided in, it was all too easy to lose himself in a sexy daydream of the alleged feat.

Until he remembered how pissed she was at him. Bubble, burst. 

. . .

If someone asked Tony how his first weeks sleeping with Ziva, his former partner and current subordinate, were going, he’d say, “What? I’m not—we’re not—how dare—what?!” 

Because when your boss quit and ran off to Mexico, some of his rules haunted you. 

. . . 

“Rough day?”

Tony looked up right away. It was best not to play games with the director, who emerged stealthily in the dim, empty squadroom. He’d dismissed McGee and Ziva at regular quitting time, unable to make eye contact with either of them—for different reasons—but stayed behind to catch up on last week’s case reports. Him, voluntarily completing paperwork. 

Rough was an understatement.  

“I see my shortcomings are making the rounds.” 

Jenny’s smile was beautifitic, the one she wore during news interviews. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t seeking it out. I was speaking to Ducky on a separate matter, and he happened to mention talking with Mr. Palmer, who—”

“Got the scoop from Abby because McGee blabbed to her,” Tony finished, barely restrained. “Yeah, I’m well acquainted with the watercooler daisy chain.” 

It didn’t slip his notice that Ziva was the missing link. The text he’d started writing to her the second she disappeared through the elevator doors was unfinished and unsent on his phone. 

“Did you also hear they went for drinks after work without inviting me?” It came out as a whine.

Jenny didn’t mask her amusement. “Did you always invite Gibbs for drinks? No, because he was your boss and you were probably venting about him.”

Touché.

“I’m trying, ma’am.” This he intoned with every fiber of professionalism and sincerity he could summon in the moment. The problem was that this wasn’t his first mistake since taking over—wouldn’t be the last—but he was trying. He wanted that noted. Also, there was an insane learning curve, and yes, big shoes to fill. Could he be blamed for that?

The redhead stepped forward, switching her smile for an expression of...not quite pity. Understanding? “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Robin Hood: Men in Tights?” 

“Shakespeare.” Jenny chuckled, her fair eyes sparkling in the light of his desk lamp. Tony could see why Gibbs was once head-over-heels for her, back when they were partners. He knew something of those complicated emotions, of which the text draft on his phone contained damning evidence. 

“It’s the nature of being in charge,” she continued. “You’re going to have crappy days and plenty of nights when you can’t sleep. My advice, from experience? When you screw up, apologize and do better next time.”  

“Isn’t that a sign of weakness?” It was a reflex, after so many years. 

Jenny caught his eye and held it. “No. It’s a sign of respect.” 

. . .

He was sober when he showed up on her doorstep. Stopping off for some liquid courage briefly flitted through his brain, but flitted out just as quickly. McGee, he could buy a NutterButter, eat some humble pie himself. All would be cool again. Ziva was a different story. 

Namely, a story with a lot of sex in it, and it’d barely been a month yet. That he spent a large portion of the day envisioning her tongue doing erotic dances with a red cherry stem wasn’t helping. It also further convinced him of a brutal truth: Things were changing. Things had already changed. 

Ziva, outlined by the glow from inside the apartment, crossed her arms over a baggy workout t-shirt. Curls piled in a messy bun. It was Tuesday, kickboxing night. “If you are here for a booty call, you will be sorely disappointed.” Each word was wrapped in her delicious Israeli accent, momentarily distracting him from their sum meaning.

He’d expected as much.

“See, when you want to get them right…” Tony’s attempted humor and roguish smile failed to earn him leniency. 

“Goodnight, Boss.”

The door hurtled toward him, closing on his chance to repent—and more than that, his chance with her. His left hand flew up, catching the wood with a few inches to spare. 

“Hey, whoa. Wait. I’m here to apologize, all right?” Breath whooshed in and out of him; sweat beaded instantly on his forehead.  

Okay, so it wasn’t just about the sex. He was enamored with her, and it hadn’t been a full month yet.

Ziva yanked the door back, though the arrangement of her features maintained dubious feelings. She raised her eyebrows in a way that said, Yes, and?

“I was an idiot, Ziva.”

A corner of her delicate mouth pulsed. “Good start.”

The heaviness in his chest released. He dared another smile, softer-gentler this time, and the door stayed open. “I was too hard on you and McGee.”

“You will apologize to him as well, yes?”

“Yes. McSweetTooth will wet himself with glee, I’m sure of it.” Tony shuffled his feet, bringing him onto her brown doormat, never dropping her gaze. “But seriously, Ziva, I know I messed up, especially, you know...I mean, you should be able to call the guy you’re sleeping with by his first name, even if he’s your boss. That is,” he sheepishly tagged on, “if I’m still the guy you’re sleeping with, after today.”

For a bloated handful of seconds, Ziva froze, as she had that morning in the squadroom. Eyes like lasers, drilling through him. It lasted long enough for doubts to creep in. Then—

“Are you?”

So simple, but coupled with her head tilted to expose honeyed neck, her popped knee, and the slight part of her plumped lips, the challenge was clearly set for him. 

This would be fun. 

Tony launched over the doorway, literally sweeping Ziva off her feet as he plowed into the apartment. An honest-to-goodness squeal filled his ears, then that wind-chime laugh took over and his knees wobbled in their sockets—nevermind her 100-something pounds hanging on his torso. 

It was the first time he’d carried her this way—any way—but her arms and legs wrapped around his body with an ease he would have analyzed if not for the supple give of her breasts against his chest, or her frizzy hair tickling his chin. Her mouth alternated between whispering the dirtiest promises in his ear and nibbling on his neck. Thoughts would have to wait. 

How they shut the front door, how they maneuvered the hallway to her bedroom, how they undressed and (eventually) found the bed was a haze of details that didn’t matter. The shudder that coursed through her at his every touch, mattered. The inverted bridge her back made when his lips and tongue met her center, mattered. His name on a gasp, woven into a sigh, lifted to a shout...

In this area, Tony DiNozzo excelled. He was damn well going to prove it. 

. . . 

It took two rounds to sate her. The first go was part of the apology; the second was because he had a young, hot lover who could run eight miles at the crack of dawn, kickbox for an hour after work, and still have energetic sex with him—twice. Who wouldn’t take advantage of that? 

“Guess I got that booty call after all.” He love-tapped her ass, which was bare to the air. He braced for retaliation. 

None came.

Hair mussed and cheeks flushed, Ziva glanced over, fixing him in her line of sight. A smirk hiked up the side of her mouth not buried in the pillow. “As did I, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Never going to live that down, am I?”

“Give it a few months.” Her smirk widened as her eyelids drooped, each blink taking longer and longer to pull back up. 

. . .

They dozed together in the dark of her bedroom. They weren’t cuddlers, per se. Their connections left them too sensitive, sticky and unspooled. They stayed close, though. Touching random pieces of her to him, him to her. His head resting on her bicep curled closest to the mattress. Her ankle molded to the arch of his foot. Sometimes as conventional as their hands laid one atop the other, fingers loose. 

. . . 

He began talking while they ate cereal in the kitchen at quarter to eleven. He was talking as she cleaned and put away their dishes and led him to the front room, his body going where she steered and nudged. What he voiced was nothing new to either of them. All the same issues that overwhelmed him on a cool May night, that propelled him to Ziva’s door in what would become a habit. He was drowning; she was refuge. 

For that, and so many other reasons, he trusted her without question. 

Ziva allowed him to talk now because that was how he worked out problems. They both knew that, too. 

“I think it comes down to the fact that...I don’t know how to be a team leader that isn’t Gibbs.” The admission floated and settled on the sofa cushion between them. It wasn’t often they said his name anymore. The memory was sore to the touch. 

“We have been over this, yes?” Ziva tossed a leg across his lap, the other tucked beneath her. He immediately claimed the tanned skin of her thigh, rolling it under his hands. “This is a chance to be your type of leader, make your own rules.” 

“Every time I do that, it blows up in my face.”

“Not every time,” she corrected, her eyes darting to his lips and lingering. 

His heart rate ticked up. Very true. They might not have happened if Gibbs hadn’t left. But… “We’re one thing, Ziva. The team is another.”   

She turned his chin with her hand, locking his gaze with her steady and fervent stare. An imposing combination. “Tony, you either keep trying or you quit, just like Gibbs. What will it be?” 

It was Tony’s turn to sneak a not-so-subtle glance at her lips. When she put it like that, the answer was undebatable. What he’d told Jenny wasn’t a lie. And giving up wasn’t an option. 

Didn’t mean he’d hand her the win that easily. 

“How about we make a deal?” While his eyebrows waggled, his hands roamed farther than her thigh. “I persevere with the team leader thing. In exchange, you show off your fancy cherry stem tying prowess for me.” 

Her mouth gaped, eyes narrowing. “Who told you?”

“Palmer. The guy’s actually not a bad sounding board.” He’d have to remember that for future thorny cases. 

Ziva deflected, “I do not have any cherries in the fridge.”

Tony returned, “That wouldn’t stop a true parlor trick magician like yourself.”

Her face reformed in an expression that always intrigued him. A cat devising the perfect trap for her prey. It didn’t surprise him when she stretched her leg out, straddling his lap properly. He circled her low back, drawing her hips over him and generating a spark of friction. There was extra verve in her fingers burrowing the short hairs at his nape, tipping his head upwards. 

“You must really want me to—”

Ziva covered his lips with hers, swallowing his words as they melted to moans. Instead of continuing hot and heavy, everything slowed. Each kiss long and needy, a continuous caress. Her heady spice invaded his senses. The tip of her tongue slipped by his teeth, running the roof of his mouth before pushing in further.

Tony’s spine straightened at the sensation of tongue against tongue, the rough texture, the strokes and flicks. He gripped whatever part of her was in his reach, would likely leave marks. She didn’t flinch. She was all around him, practically tying him in a knot. 

It was exactly how he imagined it, but also superior.

He was smiling when they broke apart, breath imperative for them both. “Your ingenuity is an inspiration, Ms. David.” 

Ziva winked, leaning forward to kiss him again, a casual closed-lipped peck in the wake of such an intimate encounter. And he knew, no matter what came of leading the team, he wanted this—them—to survive. 

“Now you must honor your part of the deal, Tony.” 

“Whatever you say,” he agreed, flipping her onto the cushion and following her down for round three.

. . .

The next day, Tony waited at his car in the parking lot for his team to arrive. He walked into the building with them, and didn’t check the clock in the mornings ever again. 

He apologized to McGee, which just freaked out the newly-appointed Senior Field Agent. As Tony predicted, the Nutter Butter made all the difference. 

By the end of the week, he brought Special Agent Lee onto the team because there was symmetry in four and they needed a probie to act as a buffer. Plus, she was good at meeting case report deadlines and Tony wasn’t.

He doubled-up on campfires and went to Jenny for advice more often. Palmer, too. 

The team went out for drinks, occasionally inviting him to join. Occasionally not. 

A month later, he and Ziva started keeping their love in each other’s hearts along with spare clothes in one another’s dressers. Soon, there would be no sense hiding them anymore. 

And when someone asked Tony how leading his own team was going, he said, “Our results speak for themselves,” and meant it. 

Because when your boss quit and ran off to Mexico, leaving you in charge, you wore the crown and made it your own. 

fin

[myjourneytoux]

Eyeing that Finish Line

I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I've actually been a designer for a while but even I didn't realize it until a few weeks ago.  The funny part is I consciously set out to learn more about design back in November of 2019, when trying to determine my next professional step.  As someone within HR, working as a recruiter and program manager, I have been drawn to individuals within the creative space for awhile now. Through my phone screens with candidates, I learned about the work they do and through those conversations, I got hooked. It was then, back in November of 2019, that I began investing time to learn more about the design world.  Through my findings, I realized I have been applying a lot of the design fundamentals in my work, whether I was a teacher, or higher education professional, or even now as a recruiter.  I have conducted research and empathy interviews, iterated designs of services and programs, created pilots and assessed them, re-worked designs and continued to evaluate, always striving for better user experiences.  I drove the project's vision and presented findings to stakeholders, many in the C-suite.  So yeah, I've been a designer and didn't know it! I've made career pivots before, so this isn't new to me. But what has been different is this time, I'm older. And I have insight now into what recruiting looks like for people in the UX space.  We set a high bar for people at my company who want to work in UX so that honestly slowed my roll for a bit this past summer.  I felt to be seen as credible, I'd need to get a formal certification. Naturally, I had to figure out if that was true.  I sought out answers by reaching out to people and just started asking questions. One endearing comment I continue to hear is that I don't need a formal certification.  Empathy is what matters most and that can't be taught.   As a recruiter, I actually have a LOT of empathy for those that I speak with; whether they get the job or not.  I put myself in their shoes as many are as vulnerable as I am right now, just trying to start something new. As I began investing time to learn more about this new world, I started listening to a podcast.  During one of my midday strolls, I tuned into the User Defenders podcast and heard the OG of UX designers, Jared Spool declare that everyone is a designer (which I later heard drew a lot of criticism from people).  But then Jared gave examples and mentioned that even recruiters are designers because essentially, the hires they bring into an organization can change the user's experience.  I mean, if Jared Spool thinks I'm a designer, then hell yes, I'm a designer! The balance of 2020 was filled with consuming information by reading books like General Assembly's The Practitioner's Guide to User Experience Design, UX Bites by Gabriel Kirkmeier, The Design of Everyday Things by Don Norman and Susan Weinschenk's 100 Things Every Designer Needs to Know about People. I also read a lot of UX-related blogs and completed UX related courses via LinkedIn learning.  I obtained a mentor and started putting some ideas down on paper.  I was even asked to serve as the UX Director for a non-profit.  Things were in full swing but I hadn't yet figured out how to climb that mountain -- taking this information and leveraging it to a new job within UX. Fast forward to December 2020 and I get a random request from someone at my company to speak about my interest in design as it relates to HR.  During my exploration phase, I realized, as with any job, there are a lot of different things you can do within design.  In looking at the double diamond of design, I'm more confident in my skills on the early side of design.  I can research and analyze and synthesize information into recommendations for a future iteration and create the prototypes for those designs.  I began focusing on design strategy and service design as potential easy career pivots.  But I wasn't sure if a place for someone with my interests existed at my current company. I was ecstatic when I heard there was a place, albeit new, and they were focused on the experience individuals have within different touchpoints in HR.  It was crazy to know that my many random conversations led me to an individual that was curious to know more about me and my journey. That conversation sparked yet another with a hiring manager who informed me about an opportunity and asked me if I'd be interested in an HR UX Strategist role.  After a two week courtship of learning more about the team she was building in HR and setting the stage for some huge goals, not to mention meeting a few individuals on her greater team, I was hooked. I went from, "you want me?" to "you want ME!"  I was on cloud nine.  So that's the end of the story, right? We lived happily ever after? Not quite. Unfortunately, right before I was to interview for the role, I learned I was not able to move forward due to strong business needs and some big wins this new group needed to make in a short period of time.  Being a new group with an even smaller team of 3, the opportunity of having me join was not feasible at this time.  Even though the director was happy to mentor me and saw my abilities, it was a no go. Of course, it was a hard pill to swallow.  To be approached by a director who saw my unique perspective being in HR and relentless effort to transition into design - it was the perfect role. But this setback just gave me time to hone my abilities through side projects; demonstrating my knowledge of the design process.  In the two weeks since receiving that unfortunate news, I have been on a passion-fueled binge of all things UX. For one, I needed to establish some big goals. I'm a junkie when it comes to setting goals and challenges that seem insurmountable. For example: I went from not being able to swim 20 meters in a pool to swimming 350 meters 6 weeks later in my first sprint triathlon.  But I wasn't finished there. Four months later I finished a one mile open water swim in a lake for a triathlon that was 50 total miles.  And 7 months from there, I completed my first half Ironman. And finally, 18 months after my first half Ironman, I had my fastest swim to date by swimming 2.4 miles in an ocean to compete in and finish my first Ironman.  But that wasn't enough. I traded the water for trails and 2.5 months later completed a 50 mile trail run in difficult terrain.  So setting a few professional goals? No problem.  My friends and family know when I set a goal, there's nothing that can stop me. In reading 100 Things Every Designer Needs to Know about People, I learned that people are more motivated as they get closer to a goal.  I know I certainly became more motivated after coming so close to achieving a dream job.  Therefore, I kickstarted this journey into high gear by establishing the following goals:

1) Pivot into UX by the end of 2021.  The short-term goal is to pivot mid-year, but I'm giving myself grace.  Again, I know how hard it is to get into design at my company. Giving myself ample time to accumulate more knowledge and apply them to various projects, will be a huge win.

2) Work on a side project through the non-profit group, "Teaching: A Path to Learning & Development."  I'll document this work separately in a follow-up blog as a lot of work I'm doing here is opening my eyes as I put theory into practice. 3) Obtain skills through an internal mobility project.  Remember those conversations I had during my two week courtship by this director for the HR UX Strategy role? Well my passion about internal mobility shined through and one of the people I spoke to asked if I'd be interested in assisting. I finally got the go ahead from my current supervisor to spend time helping; now I just need to lean in! 4) Finish the UX Design Learning Path via LinkedIn Learning. A lot of my strong abilities thus far have been on the first diamond within the double diamond design. I want to be more knowledgeable about the second diamond so that I can be a utility player in this space. Now that I've set these goals, I can see, in my head, the finish line. I'm literally applying the same training mentality as I had with my endurance races to my new career by dedicating at least an hour a day and 2-3 hours on the weekend, just chipping away at the larger goal ahead of me. My journey to UX will have its ups and downs; it's ah-ha's and OMG moments. And I want to document them all. I've been journaling since I was 10 so this isn't new to me. But what is new is sharing my inner thoughts and being raw. Perhaps I'll find others who are trying to make their way to UX. But for now, I want to share how this process has been for me. When I write, it helps cement my findings and it also helps me remember just how far I've come. Welcome to My UX Journey.

[imagine-loki]

The Slutty Webs One Weaves

Title : The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Chapter NO. 6 of 10?

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s Asgardian wife learns women write fanfiction about him on a trip to Midgard. She’s edgy for the duration and lets him have it when they get back.

Author: lokilover9

Rating: M

Brianna's surprise was a bedroom matching the guest room at Tony's and much more. Loki had conjured a two thousand square foot flat into an underground rock formation with sleeping quarters and private ensuites at either end. The main rooms were open concept, all the lighting adjustable to simulate midday or dusk and she followed his gaze to a set of drapes in the dining area.

"I dare speculate what's beyond. Don't you?" He asked.

Another room simulating the outdoors had a domed ceiling painted like the sky, two walls a tropical rainforest and the third a beach scene. Below it was a narrow pool, running the rooms length and to her left, a swing set and exercise apparatus. Brianna ran to him and squealed with delight when he spun her around in his arms. "You did all this for me?"

"With great pleasure."

"It's the best. Our own perfect hideaway, but aren't you exhausted?"

He chuckled. "Had I conjured a palace, perhaps. My magic is very powerful."

She suddenly looked concerned. "Sooo, nobody knows I robbed those houses? I really don't want to go to jail."

"Og Min Lille, no one. You're free now and shall never live imprisoned again." Loki wanted to erase those sad memories, but she was too young. It risked relearning to walk and talk, achievements well established in adults and possibly forgetting vital information that could help locate her 'imprisoners'. "Let's focus on the happier times ahead. I'm hungry are you?" Inside, he opened a suitcase of food taken from Thor's. "Can you believe the God of Thunder eats marshmallows? His face must resemble an oversized zit."

Brianna's giggle was so adorable he wanted to gobble her up. "Do you like pranking him?" She asked.

"Me? The God of Mischief? Nooo."

"Your nose is growing, Pinocchio."

"Who?"

She explained the character, Loki feigned panic, conjured a mirror and made funny faces while checking his reflection at different angles. "It's not a centimeter larger than the last time I looked. Who's the prankster?" They made smores together and Loki's first bite resulted in a glob of marshmallow dangling from his chin.

"It's okay." Said Brianna. "Uncle Cootyoodles wore most of his first time we made them. Pepper too. He was holding one for her taste when a glob fell down her shirt, she smeared some into his hair and what a mess that followed. Tony started chasing her around the island trying to stuff them into her pockets, but Pepper was crafty. She grabbed the partially melted ones and tried smearing more into his hair. When he blocked it, she slid one under his t shirt sleeve and mashed it into his armpit. They'd begun cleaning up when he snuck chocolate sauce from a cupboard and squirted some onto her head."

"Did uncle Cootyoodles get in trouble?"

"No. They chose a third target and boy did she become invisible fast."

Loki laughed.

"Tony's super funny. Did you know he hides boxes of Count Chocula in their apartment?"

"Where?"

"No way, Jose. I plan a return visit. He might not share if you tattle."

Loki suddenly felt trapped in a web of deceit. Telling Brianna that wasn't possible, or of his intention to move her to Asgard permanently risked jeopardizing her trust. Might she become angry enough to vanish at first chance? He could cap her abilities with a spell, but that meant the same and not learning her full capacity. He was damned either way and wondered if all parents shared this dilemma. Making decisions for their child's best interest knowing they'll be resented for them. And what of the biggest? Telling his Daughter she was a Goddess. With time on their side he opted to mull things over.

That evening he gave her a swimming lesson, cut her hair into a bob with bangs, altered his to salt and pepper, conjured brown contacts and together they planned their first adventure. ***** On Asgard, after reading Loki's letter in her private parlor, Frigga had whisked Astrid off to the observatory.

Heimdall saw them coming and stiffened with the Allmother's scowl. 'Odin's toupee, Beelzebub is resurrected.' "Greetings my gracious Queen and my lady. What can I do for you?"

"Find Loki, please?" The Allmother instructed.

"He's left realm?" Astrid replicated her scowl and he gazed into the cosmos. "Right away." 'Before one of you sprout horns.'

The search was taking too long and Frigga caught on why. "Has my son veiled himself?"

"I cannot see him." 'Fuck. How many holes can you dig in one lifespan, Fenrir?'

Astrid looked ready to hyperventilate. "I didn't hide from him down there."

The Gatekeeper did like the Duchess, yet occasionally questioned her sensibility. 'Maybe because you lack such powers?'

The Queen dismissed her nonsense and calculatingly advised. "Worry not. I have a plan."

Heimdall prayed to the Norns it didn't include an inverted pentagram. ***** The next night, Loki and Brianna exited a portal into a dark alley in Paris.

"This way, darling. You're going to love The Ritz."

An inebriated man witnessed the phenomenon from his apartments alley window. "Sacre bleu! No more cheap merde for moi." ***** In New Mexico, Thor was watching How to Train Your Dragon, thinking Toothless would make his Father a great pet. Odin blitzed on ale and the pair swooping down on Asgards Einherjar as he taunts the warriors. 'Catch me if you can, suckers!' Frigga's in pursuit on a skid. 'Land you ancient ripstonker or I'll tan your hairy hide!' He chuckled at the vision, crushed an empty beer can against his forehead and the doorbell rang. "Must be my neighbor Willie with another complaint. Yesterday the stereo's volume, tonight our TV's. Guess I should pity the old bugger, his surname being Stroker. Coming!" He politely shouted. 'Rickety ray of sunshine.' "Evening Mr...Astrid???"

"Hi."

Thor inwardly cringed when she rolled in a suitcase and paused a second to think. Heimdall always delivered him to spots where Loki had hidden vehicles, but Astrid didn't have a license. "How did…" He picked up her luggage when the bell rang again.

"You should answer that."

He did to someone looking less a ray of sunshine than grumpy Mr. Kneads-his-knob. "Mother???" It suddenly clicked why Loki had warned him Astrid might visit. He'd intended to shield himself and Brianna from Heimdall.

"Don't look so shocked. Last summer your Father surprised me with a brief trip to Norway. A beautiful country, but too many nude beaches. While there, he taught me to drive and Seidre granted me a fake license."

"Why didn't you mention it?"

"I had intended to surprise you by coming with Astrid and Loki on their next visit. In light of your mail delivery, I came sooner. Now where's your brother?"

"I don't know and presume he's veiled?"

"You're lying and we know he has a daughter." Said Astrid. "It was in the letter."

She'd never addressed him so crassly and Thor dismissed it to upset. "I'm not and imagine it was, hence your presence. He spelled me to sleep with a tonic I thought ale and upon waking, they were gone. In 'my' letter, Loki apologized for leaving unannounced, didn't explain why and asked I make the delivery."

"Loki apologized to you?" Asked Frigga.

"Yes."

"This I must see to believe. Show me."

"Impossible, Mother. He spelled that too."

"He what?" Asked Astrid.

"It's in the ink." Replied the Allmother. "The paper dissolves within minutes once exposed to oxygen."

The Duchess shook her head. "This is wrong. Loki claims to have had no relationship with a woman he impregnates then runs off with a child they supposedly created without a word to his wife or Mother?"

"She's right, Thor. If your Father and I truly do have a granddaughter, your brother should've said so, brought her to Asgard and introduced us."

"Loki didn't believe me at first, but knew the instant they met. Like myself."

"So he really didn't come for a bondage session with his big brother." Said Astrid. "You lured him here to meet the girl? Who introduced the two of you? Was the Mother blackmailing Loki and that's why they've vanished? How does he know this person and her daughter aren't working together? Any preteen could learn such skills!"

Thor had retrieved her from Heimdall's last drop and en route to see Tony, was subjected to her jealous assumptions regarding the stories. Loki had once mentioned similar behavior during a visit home with Jane, but this was over the top and he responded curtly. "That's bon-ding and could a six year old, Astrid? Enough with your antics."

"Thor Odinson, mind your manners and tell us everything." Demanded Frigga.

He observed the two expectantly glaring at him and pondered being in his brother's shoes. "No."

"And why not young man?"

Astrid spoke again. "Because he's lying, just like I thought."

The God frowned at his sister in law. "No, because I think I understand now why Loki vanished. Did either of you even hear what I just said? Brianna is six..years..old."

"Frigga's tone softened. "Brianna?"

"Yes, Mother, that's your granddaughters name. Which saddens me to say you'd know had you bothered asking."

"Well if you won't help us, I'll bet Tony knows where Loki is. I'll just call him." Said Astrid.

"You will not." Thor sharply reiterated. "I contacted Stark first thing and he knows nothing. The couple are on vacation. Leave them be."

"Son, at least have some compassion for her feelings." Suggested Frigga.

"Why? I haven't heard a shred of it yet for Loki from either of you and suspect he predicted the same. It's no wonder with our consistent lack of empathy towards him. Jane always disliked him yet the more I spoke of our history, her opinion changed. Humbling mine by insisting I see things from Loki's perspective and candidly pointing out Father's favoritism. I regret a lot, but this isn't a self pity rant. He and Brianna need someone on their side and I'm volunteering, so listen. All I'll reveal is she came to me and refused to say from where or how. I found her cowering inside my apartment after a run and willingly obliged her request to meet Loki." He looked directly at Astrid. "Your husband is innocent, knew nothing of her existence until I told him, yet carries guilt for not rescuing her sooner."

"'Rescuing?'" Asked Frigga.

"Brianna's short life hasn't been a happy one." Thor grabbed his keys.

"Where are you going?"

"Anywhere but here. I need to think."

He left and Astrid sobbed. "I've behaved so selfishly and now Loki's facing this alone."

The Allmother squeezed her hand. "I'm just as guilty, darling, but do get your sexual references straight?"

Astrid cried harder.

"There, there. Loki has to come home eventually."

"How..do you think he instantly kn..knew she was his?"

Frigga suddenly straightened. "Hells bells and Bilgesnipe testicles. Could she possess magic?"

Thor hadn't left to think. Distrustful of Astrid, he needed an excuse to do the one thing Loki had asked him not to. Call Stark. "Heyyy, flying human. Have a minute?"

"Nope. Busy drinking tequila out of Pepper's navel. Later."

She smirked when he hung up. "That was rude."

"What? I can't hold my phone, pour belly button shots and slurp all at the same time."

"Put him on speaker." She suggested.

"Stop moving or I'll pin you to the bed with my suit pieces."

"Now he's calling me. "'I'll' put him on speaker."

"A threesome with big guy?" Tony jested. "Can't we choose someone prettier?"

"You want a threesome? I never thought of sharing 'you' with anyone else."

He belched. "That was ugly. Answer the phone, Butch."

"Hi Thor."

"Sorry, Virginia. It's urgent."

Stark had risen from the bed in his boxers and Pepper withheld laughter as he goofily attempted a full monty. "What's up?"

Thor finished explaining and Tony gasped. "Say what? Pepper and I were about to experiment with shock treatments via my tequila laden nipples and you ruined it."

"He's kidding." She interjected.

The God chuckled. "Whatever ruffles your truffle, Virginia. He's taking it better than Loki predicted."

"It's the booze."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here people."

"Astrid's on realm and has thought of calling." Said Thor. "I won't send her your way. This is just a heads up."

Stark scanned his naked self. "Not anymore."

"Tony." Scolded Pepper.

"Sorry, what?"

"I've convinced her you're on vacation and Brianna came to me."

"Thumbs up, uncle lightning wielder. Why Daddy Snowflake lie and run away?"

"I'm not exactly certain, but suspect to avoid family drama over knowledge of Brianna's existence."

"Are they loco en la cabezas? You tell Loki she can come live here. If she turns our apartment into an ice rink, I'm down with that. I'll teach her how to skate."

Thor's respect for Tony was deepening over his unwavering affection for her. "If Loki contacts you, please warn him our Mother's here too?"

Stark shot upright. "Flaming flamingo fishnets! 'Thee' Allmother is on earth???"

"Not for long if I can help it. Astrid as well."

"'Atta boy! Duct tape them together and hurl 'em up the bifrosty."

"My Mother would have me quartered."

"Pooper shnickers. Saran wrap then?"

Thor laughed. "Virginia?"

"We'll play along. If Daddy Snowflake contacts you, tell him we're a phone call away." ***** Thor opted for a local pool hall instead of going home, but Frigga waited up.

"Does Brianna have powers, darling? I'd appreciate knowing."

He headed straight for his bedroom. "Jane comes home in three days. 'I'd' appreciate if you and Astrid returned to Asgard beforehand."

Frigga stood outside his door. "Thor…"

"Cover me in preserves and tie me to an ant hill, Mother. I'm still not talking."

"Sounds like a kinky ritual to enact on your Father."

He opened it enough to stick his head out. "Are you cray cray?"

"Possibly. If you aren't going to talk then come listen?" He begrudgingly obliged and they sat in the living room. "Forgive my rudeness earlier? I've been overcome with shock and bewilderment since Astrid came to me."

"No more so, than Loki."

"I imagine and have a briefened love story to tell you."

"Again?"

Frigga smirked at the hint of disinterest on Thor's face. "Not mine and your Father's, Loki's and Astrids. When your brother was first pardoned, the people were angry. Palace staff addressed him only when necessary and on the streets, there was talk of him being a traitor. He was miserable so your Father and I allowed him back to Midgard if he promised to stay out of trouble. He rarely cracked a smile on visits home and during one, I convince him to attend a ball by threatening to sacrifice a virgin."

Thor's brows rose. "Mother, you didn't."

"Almost. A young handmaiden he coveted. I'm not as innocent as I appear. Loki spent a good part of it alone, brooding in a side parlor. I'd considered suggesting he lose the glare which conveyed to all, 'come any closer and I'll rip off your limbs' when noticing Astrid edging her way around the room, cautiously evading his sight. I later learned she wanted to greet him unexpectedly, so he mightn't be so quick to reject her. Then as she introduced herself and Loki rose as a gentleman should, he smiled wholeheartedly for the first time in over a year. As you do in Janes presence. Soon he began spending more time at home and no matter the ignorance of others, including her Father's disapproval of their courtship, she lovingly stood by your brother. They were walking arm in arm at last year's harvest festival when someone bellowed 'traitors whore!' Astrid said he furiously demanded the coward show themselves. When no one came forth, she announced to all listening. 'Taunt and think of me as you please, but never forget whose presence you're in. Prince Loki of Asgard, son of your King and Queen and I am his proud fiance, Astrid Heskin.' She's made Loki very happy and it shows in every aspect of his personality."

"I'm just as impressed as I am confused." Said Thor. "If the feeling's mutual, why the constant jealousy?"

"It's between them I suppose." Frigga knew why, but withheld it in confidence.

"Sentiment aside, Loki never said where or when he planned to return. I'll have two days with Jane before she's back at S.H.I.E.L.D and I'm doing charity work. Nor can Astrid keep imposing on Mr. Stark when she and Loki have problems. Please take her home?"

"We'll leave tomorrow."

"Thank you. How did Father take the news?"

"He doesn't know and thinks I came to escort Astrid to Loki."

"Weren't we supposed to be bonding?"

"That, he would never believe and have surely gone to Heimdall. We told him Loki was helping you find Jane a new house as a surprise, Astrid missed him and wanted to help too. He waved us onward amidst his newfound kingly pleasure, a pedicure."

"Father gets pedicures?"

"It's not as though they paint his nails slut red. Centuries in leather boots makes for terribly smelly feet."

"Still, that complicates things." Thor explained Loki's conversation about Frost Giants. "My crassness wasn't meant as an insult to his original heritage. After everything Brianna's endured, I merely assumed it information overload for her."

"Darling. Where is the difference in learning she's Jotun or Asgardian?"

"There isn't any. Loki wouldn't reveal all they'd discussed and I'd dreaded he'd informed her Asgardians opinion of Jotuns. That 'we' were taught to fear and hate them."

His words reminded Frigga of her own guilt and shame over lying to her son. "Your Father and I were catastrophically wrong for teaching that. He despised Laufey for senselessly attacking Midgard, but I'm just as guilty for not speaking up."

"His scorn remains, Mother."

"Only because Jotunheim are ruled by a secretive and fluctuating council since Laufey's death and are rumored to be allies with Svartalfheim. They want Nidavellir to join them but the realm will not, claiming fear of animosity from the others and losing their greatest source of income."

"Weapons."

"Yes. Secretly, they are 'our' allies. Through spies, we learn of every weapon they sell and to whom. Should the Jotuns attain this knowledge and see the Dwarves as traitors, your Father dreads an outbreak of war and the senseless demise of millions. The Jotuns tell your Father only enough to appease him and the constant uncertainty has led him to double the size of our Einherjar."

"More you have not told me? Mother, why?"

"You're happy here and in a strategic position as an Avenger. Midgard is safer because of you. Loki knows all of this yet your Father is so edgy, I'm uncertain how he'll react to him being veiled."

"I'm saddened to hear of his duress, yet intend on further mending my relationship with Loki. Wish to join me?"

"Indeed I do."

"Then lie to Father again. Don't tell him Astrid returned and ask her to visit her Mother. Have her agree your back up plan should he question Heimdall sooner is she spoke to Loki, but he'd taken Brianna to Disneyland to bond with her alone. Claim that's why he's veiled and said they'd return 'here' in two weeks. It covers our arses and hopefully buys him time."

"Disneyland?" She queried.

"It's a famous amusement park for children."

"And if Loki doesn't show?"

"We're dungeon bound. Pack a warm sweater."

"Norns. How do I prevent Heimdall from seeing Astrid return?"

Thor groaned. "Snitch about this and I'll never forgive you. Max is sworn to service myself and Loki only or be fed to beasts. He takes bribes, but you can probably intimidate him into staying quiet with one glare."

Frigga jestingly rolled her eyes. "Such hooligans I raised."

"Be grateful to him, Mother. His arse will also be on the line for worse than concealing a mail delivery."

She shrugged. "I'll tell your Father I threatened to confine him to my poisonous spider conservatory."

Thor froze and asked similar question Loki had asked of him. "Are you truly 'our' relative? Asgards warm, kind and Allmotherly Queen?"

"Yes although formidable when required. It's a torture chamber, darling. So our enemies believe. They're artificial replicas of Midgards most deadly with tiny doses of various potions in their fangs. One induces diarrhea, another severe itching, hallucinations and my favorite, temporary paralysis. All with anecdotes, of course and they only attack via my magic. Imagine thousands positioned for battle."

Thor wondered if Frigga had inhaled too many fumes from her potion components and next he'd hear she'd conjured them tiny helmets. "You're right. I am happier here." 'With access to exterminators.'

"Do you think Loki is veiled out of fearing your Father's judgement?"

"Primarily."

The Allmother regretfully sighed. "I'll speak with Astrid in the morning."

She passed him and Thor faced her. "Mother?"

"Yes?"

"Brianna's amazing. Intelligent beyond her years, braver than some Einherjar I've known. You will love her instantaneously and yes, she has powers. The rest is her Father's privilege to disclose."

Frigga's smile conveyed gratitude. "Thank you, son. Goodnight." Astrid slept like a log and with magic, she carefully removed her wedding ring, entered the ensuite, made a replica of it for herself and began whispering. "Loki, darling..." ***** Astrid's ring was on, but Loki wasn't tuned into its frequency, didn't hear his Mother's message, nor of a link to the spell that accessed hers. He was too overwhelmed to endure his families negative rantings. As Brianna slumbered in luxury, he read more of her Mother's diary and lurched forward, seething upon discovering an adversary. 'You?'

Loki added the name to his shit list of most wanted. 'Consider yourself marked, fucker.'

[tenaciouscupcaketaco]

1989-2020 Poetic Work Of Mario William Vitale

1989-2020 Poetic Work Of Mario William Vitale (Manuscript of Poet Mario William Vitale) From 1993-1997 - Attended State University in Connecticut,Attempted plays : Tartuffe, Miracle Of St. Anthony and Balm in Gieade,( His poetic aspirations had in 1989 from submitting his first poem entitled, "Remembrance Of A Loved One"- (Sparrowgrass Poetry Forum)Next from 1989-1997 ( Wrote primarily for Poetry.com and The International Library Of Poetry),* Received editors choice award in 1997 for poem, " A Beacon Of Light ",(1998) Sent poetic manuscript to N.Y. Time Magazine and Chief Editor " John Hyland".Back with rave reviews !* ( From 1999-2008:Had adapted a real keen sense of style for writing poetry: ( 1999- Sent Editorial to:New Man Magazine for the Passion of Christ Movie;Sent followup letter to company with poetry platform information attached,* 2000-2007 : Magazine : ( Catholic) Maries Rose Ferron Magazine submitted poem" Beacon Of Light", which had excellent editorial reviews as the outset !2008- Wrote poem entitled: ( The Heavy Cross) to Poetry.com* Achieved Poetry status of work of Excellence in writing from the Academy Of American Poetry in which still having received rank and status as a member of Academy;* ( The Connecticut Poetry Society)* Short story submitted entitled, "China Dog Ray" submitted to Virginia WritersQuarterly, West Virginia, Also having member status on their board of Poetry.* ( Attribute Poetry to an ever increasing love of God and his unconditional love that he has for us in return,Thankfulness toward family and friends.( To our past ancestors who fought to uphold freedom that far too many of us take for granted ?One needs a pure heart that's fixed on truth,This is in order to withstand the true great test of time !Life is way too short,Press toward the goal or mark of our high calling that is in Christ Jesus The Lord !~My contempoarry artists include that of ellan Bryant Voight, Kay Ryan and carl Phillips.Which all three are Participants in the Academy Of American Poetry.* Having been a member since 2006,My work reflects the likes of past poets such as C.S.Lewis, Hawthorne and edgar Allen Poe.Most of my work reflects with the values of religious beliefs intact,( In my personal view it is essential in demonstrating a real heart of creativepassion !The reader I believe will benefit by my artistic style of development in a verypositive light.)To further the need for poetry to become more main stream, Mario Vitale was born in Bristol , Ct Has developed a skill for writing poetry in the free verse form. has been featured on Hubpages.com, Starlitecafe.com & Poetry soup. Vitale lives with his elderly mother Ann Soulier in Wolcott, Ct. Currently has written well over 1,000 poems & 2 short story's toward credit platform. Vitale has taken the poetic world by storm being featured on Google, Yahoo & MSN. Looks up to contemporaries in the poetry industry such as John Ashbery & Major Jackson. Has been a favorite featured poet reader at Barnes & Noble in Waterbury, Ct. Also featured on such sites as Poetry soup, Writer's café & Neo Poet. Mario William Vitale 1 Winfield Drive Wolcott, ct 06716 A Beacon Of Light Written by: Mario Vitale A beacon of light to a much hurting world in need ! Can't help but to claim.., Some sense of identity, Stregnth and encouragement only come from above ! Amidst in the distance, the trapped seagull.., Lieth frightened but still yet adrift ! In a most vengeful fashion striking the passing fish, A true source of hope, Yet a most triumphal beam ! This beacon of light shineth forth, Passerby's can err' escape the helping hand.., To the most sparkling of radiance ! (2)Thanksgiving Dinner by Mario Vitale Home for the holiday from New Orleans, with Mother and Father at the tiny drop leaf, brown rosewood, mahogany table with the gold, grinning claw feet; Father, choler- red-in the-face, short- sleeved white shirt and cane, says the blessing as Mother brings in the turkey and cranberry. Then Mother asks, “Won’t you have more?” and father : “Do you think Moll Flanders was a *****?” (I have suffered and bleached my hair blond.) I am silent before their replies. Mother sighs. “I can scarce speak to her.” And Father, too, quotes Shakespeare. (I am thin as paper and the rose- colored bowl of blown glass sitting on the silver stand, half- filled with water.) “How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless daughter” (3) Song of Spring Today I heard a robin sing heralding the coming spring A song of exultation to the sky an ode to earth's awakening I saw a willow on the hill It's branches greening in the sun and all the earth seemed hushed & still sleeping streams began to run I heard a softly rising breeze whispering through the grass singing through the still bare trees waiting winter's chill to pass I saw the sun, so bright and warm warming the earth after the rain the buds and leaves, no frost to harm at least, at last, it's spring again. (4) The Ancients It's my last day with the old giants In mourning I hike the lost trails, sniffing the aroma of the bark, that cinnamon of the forest Under tepees of wood in a membrane of shadows, I stalk the earth, its mammal traces, its elusive tracks, to sit on a fallen log where spiders macramé, moss sloping to my knees unaware of invisibles within, grubbing in their tunnels A lizard taps my foot, responding, I muse to its touch, my thoughts like Indian visions, And when daylight mushrooms into night, and an owl hoots from cedar, I still sit with a lizard on my shoe Huddled with the ancients of the woods (5) Epiphany Written by: Mario Vitale It clings to the cliffed shore, to the wintered face of the thistle path, to the fingers of the old man's glove as he waves his memory homeward In that breath between come and go she moves up from the bay; gold turns her stride, the line of her dress, the soft sea pulling at her feet When he reaches out and the frail birds fly and the sun and the sky have married deep into the sea, it clings Even as his shadow threads retreat, it clings, even now as it dissolves to mist (6) A Return Home, Only Time Will Tell Written by: Mario Vitale Oh blessed hope ! Both hardly a believable dream, Sweltering heat with bloodshed in the street... Send the troops home ! There is no clear reason for them to roam.., These are desolate times ! For we have chosen ill faded rhymes.., The casualties are enormous ? For a stated cause that clearly atrocious.., A mother's cry as the door chime rings, A vanishing salute to freedom as the church choir sings ! Let us look above to all the heavenly love.., Merciful one, take this chip off my shoulder.., Stop the senseless fighting before our dear nation grows a bit colder, Suddenly, seeds were dropped out of a farmers bag, In time roots spring up fresh out of the fertile soil... As the sun heats up, Time will tell when this harvest will soon boil... In the vast game of life, One's time is so very brief ! The soul yearns for its' heavenly relief.., Share with others who may want to turn over a brand new leaf.., Time will tell of the true importance of helping one another, To never give into the finish line.., Nor harsh criticism that our society puts out ! Like a famous fighter in his final bout ! Time will tell of the return home, To the open arms of a loved one ! (7) A Valiant Knight Written by: Mario Vitale A Valiant Knight Death springs a new day basking in the breeze In solemn moments lets pause to think of a place A far off castle in the mountains away from it all A valiant knight lived in the structure of it's dwelling Those days of old where mere men had a noble demise A beautiful maiden was in waiting for her knight He would often fight for the cause of stregnth and dignity The draw bridge where the castle stood had a very unique aura A mystery of sort sought up in the vast array of crowned nobility For the king on his thrown was humble yet greedy Always would take care of himself caring nothing for the needy A valiant knight was concerned about the kings trust Often they would disagree on who it was to serve A joker came in front of the king one day with a magic wand Waving the wand in the air then there floated ivy everywhere For the court jester was a fool in the making of his legacy The maiden would often come forth and see For she treasured a red rose that was plucked sometime before Cherished the calling of her stature to the glory of the throne A valiant knight would often sing sweet songs in the night Had a following of village people that would sit before his feet Having a way of words that he would often share The castle was filled with dragons and warlocks searching for love A cause to be brave amidst uncertainty of the kingdom The legacy of golden capulets filled ardent vestibules Let us toast to the valiant knight who keeps a watch on all that is good (8) Hampton Beach The smell of fresh fry doe Time had elapsed playing at the casino Fresh lobster with a side order of fries Those spacious wonderful sky's Down at the shell the continental were playing A walk by the lady of a statue in waiting Flip flops and the sound of laughter A playground for kids in the middle The boardwalk with seagulls flocking over head Fire works in the midnight air with a cheer (9) God's World It is raining again. Summer will be over before it ever gets here Thunder rolls far away, drops hit the windshield, the sky turns gray The Sunflower, the blue Delpinium, the white Stinkwood drink the moisture greedily. The green and silver leaves of the Aspens sparkle as the rain hits them, and the wind turns them round and round The creek flows on, oblivious to the change in the weather. A break in the clouds allows a bit of sun to hit the side of a towering mountain Three cows slowly wend their way homeward. It is dusk. The gray clouds lift and the sun bursts through, before sliding behind the hills for the night It is God's World. He gives it to us to enjoy and to share with each other (10) Jake's House There was a man whose name was Jake Who had a house upon the lake Every morning he would wake And for breakfast have a piece of cake He had a private fishing hole; He always used a long cane pole He fried his fish on red hot coal And served it in a great big bowl For a pet, he had a cat (11) In The Zone Written by: Mario Vitale In The Zone whispers... through the dark deranged portals you evoke fear filled with angelic fervor on it's textual base yet we dig much deep then ever before cries in the dark will light the spark of what we need to know still we stand idle as the average novice introduces its spell along again then the sadness evokes a newer feeling dwindling through the vain extraction of the never world we visually see a flash then a new day approaches on the lawn two lovers having passionate *** the screams of vile extreme explodes throughout perhaps this is the place where Nero tread yet again I sit alone in my house now huddled in the corner the twilight sun has tainted my inner vision the howls of Satanic laughter gives a piercing shriek through a candle was lit by the edge of my bed One can remain lax in the quietness of the moment yet again the setting of the sun a new day has begun as we embark on the moment Does death hurt you the most or is it fear You can equate logic through a firm grasp of the hand whispers again... then a faint cry, we construct living pyramids to honor the dead A stroke of luck an the impulse ensues onto so much more but for what are we grasping for straws what are we searching for ? quietness again this time I'm in the zone as if zombie creatures with viscous long fangs that bite dripping blood off side we run away to hide no one questions anymore no one has a voice alone one last time yet feelings of grandeur awake to the message of hope that spills from the sky a challenge to be free is a question of time eyes with spots digging holes in a pool of blood Satan laughing again spreads his wings Suddenly I awake but to what ? (12) An End Of The Age Of Innocence Part III Written by: Mario Vitale In our fast paced twentieth century world.., We oft' have neglected to stop to smell the roses, Oft' we used to bow our heads silently to pray, As we reflect back to the sixties is had launched a pad to rebellion ! With a vast amount of liberal bias and thinking, No wonder why our nation is sinking.., Sinking amidst a cuss pool of mere morality.., For now it is a quite different time, A very unique but different type of day.., An end of the age of innocence, One hath been enlightened.., From seeking truth, Some fresh out of a garbage can.., Yet for Gods' sake, He hath such an amazing plan ! Hence, to shun the broad road, Yet to seek to venture in the narrow.., Such as a distant bird in flight ! You might see this creature venture out at night ? Of the Eagle nor the Sparrow.., It used to mean something to have a sense of common courteous.., To hold open the door for your neighbor ? Yet for the time being we relent and waiver.., Would you prefer another taste of a certain ice cream flavor ? To ponder we must be content with who we are in the inside.., Nor, a mere fancy suit or blazing sport's car, Life is a roller coaster.., In what you do while busy making other plans.., Finding solace among the height of nature., Such to think at what is quite simple, As a young child reflects on his or her poster board, Playing with their magic crayons.., For in eternity it is such a very long time ! Take heed in what you do, Now is the expectant hour ! What will one choose to do ? There can be no place nor need for any compromise, Within it's vast perpetual spectrum ! One just can't put a price tag on a genuine but unique heart ! Hence, with honest integrity.., The time for change is today ! (13) He Was There by Mario William Vitale From the inner silence of the lamb he was there In welcoming to the world to share Within the multiple of words the mouth speaks As a heart beats through the passage of time To every poem that was ever written To every burden ever lifted To rivers crossing where people living Sometimes loving other moments giving In storms that were outside brewing What is the significance of this love In painted pictures from above To every soldier in a battle To every cow amidst the cattle Not a second glance at any real romance A field of dreams throughout our head From both fire and ice will make you think twice Perhaps another chance at a roll of the dice When every kingdom comes thy will be done Shadows in the shining morn if there's a rose it bears a thorn, He was there in every circumstance When they tried to throw stones at her He was there drawing a line with his finger in the sand It is my hope that some day all will understand A glance at the past will tell us of our future Amidst the inner pain & uncertainty Through shadows in a field of dreams In moments of solace amidst the pain A light moved out upon the street outside A day that wasn't meant to be Thorn crown was pulled upon his head Those shouts of intense anger from the mob There was only one who would help him back on his feet, A light that brought only a few to greet Let us not run away & hide Each one of our sins was placed on that cross To lose the battle now would end in tragic loss Father please forgive them for they know not what they do He said the prayer now the rest is up to you That cross that broke a sinful world apart With his blood-soaked crown with spear in side To show the whole world he had nothing to hide The summoned cry brought about healing in the sky Watch the free angelic dove fly! (14) Momma Of Pearls by Mario William Vitale Since there's nothing I could find That was worth giving you, I sat down to think a while And write a line or two If I had a magic wand I'd wave it just for you, And give you anything you'd like No matter how many or few If I could give you back the years You so willingly gave to me I'm sure that you spend them over again The same as they used to be Remember when those days and nights Instead of going to the fair I'd always say tell me again The story of the three little bears I tried to get a strawberry pie But they were out of season Then I thought of gold Mario William Vitale Written by Mario William Vitale 48/M/Wolcott, Ct 310 Please log in to view and add comments on poems

[ivory-rabbit]

Introductory / Tag Post : 👁 Eden

Eden is a character I have developed for an Urban Fantasy Dungeons and Dragons campaign, using version 5e and Unearthed Arcana / Home-brew supplements. While certain aspects of this character are still in flux because his campaign is ongoing, having this version of him allows me to explore some other aspects of his personal canon that haven’t come up in-game yet. Additional information about his background and the universe he inhabits can be acquired from me, from the Player’s Handbook, or the Unearthed Arcana test materials.

Eden is a ghost? undead? recently reincarnated guardian angel in training, brought back by a powerful Archangel to continue to help and protect the living. While Eden appreciates this idea in concept, his patron’s desire for him to be a holy warrior rather than a healer sometimes puts the two at odds. Eden just wants to help people without being perceived, even if his methods for accomplishing his patron’s goals are somewhat unorthodox.

Background in Brief (So Far)

Brennan Muir died of gunshot wounds stranded in an unfamiliar city, taken far from home, in the middle of the night. Those last few moments were the final memories of what had otherwise been an uneventful twenty years of farm work and ordinary life. When the last breath left his lungs time stretched out infinitely before him, wrapping around him and pulling him onward into the afterlife.  What followed was neither rest nor bliss nor empty darkness  but pain beyond anything he had ever imagined possible - and then a bright, blinding light shrouding something beyond comprehension. Moments-turned-months-turned-endless-years of anguish fell away to a white void and a booming voice commanding him not to be afraid. That voice offered a deal: in exchange for escape from the anguish of death, he would give himself over fully to helping and protecting others as he had been helped. He panicked, he begged.

His earliest memory beyond that is waking up somewhere new, amongst unfamiliar trees with dirt under his nails. Brennan, now Eden as decided by his patron, has spent his last few months back amongst the living desperately trying to readjust to what is supposed to be business as usual. At least it would be, but it’s difficult to not be frightened of the fact that food now tastes like ash and turns his stomach, or the fact that he doesn’t seem to need to sleep any more. Could he truly be counted as alive if he sometimes caught himself not breathing? Living or dead, the sometimes intrusive voice of the Archangel inside his head was very, very real - like a knife cutting through the relentless assault on the senses the world had become. Nothing sounded the same; though his vision was much less clear, it was now so much easier to hear how much sadness people tended to keep to themselves, how scary it could be to simply be alive.

Though he would quickly prove himself far too soft-hearted and fearful for the warrior’s taste their mission became clear; the Angel’s guidance took him from town to town - learning to help people in small ways without being too intrusive. It became a kind of skill to practice, a way to not only help others but also to make the best of the strange things that he now seemed capable of after death. It almost became comfortingly predictable, until he accidentally stumbled into step with a group of of very peculiar people.

[Campaign Begins Here]

- - - - - - - - - - -

Name: Brennan Muir Eden Age: Aged 20 years; deceased 5 months, revived for 3 Gender: Enby [he/they] Stature: 152 cm [5’ 0"]  Delicate, diminutive build; seems perpetually on edge and uncomfortable, fidgety, death-warmed-over complexion. Has an incredibly light/quiet step, and won’t wear shoes unless forced. Hair: Fair / straw coloured; soft and fluffy Eyes: Pale and heavily cataracted, clouded from beholding an incredibly bright light Scars and Identifying Features: Significant burns on hands and soles of his feet - hand scars he covers with bandages and gloves; bullet scars on abdomen; three sets of small, flightless wings (in Eden’s campaign setting, all aasimar have visible wings that are only capable of flight when magic is used); faint freckles across the nose; missing a tooth on the upper left

Race: Undead Reincarnated(?) Aasimar Alignment: Lawful Neutral Background: Revenant Class: Mystic / Warlock Abilities:

Minor Invisibility and Teleportation - up to 30 feet

Blind Spot - can erase himself from the memories of others, the amount of time erased dependant on the amount of energy consumed. Currently, only a few minutes is manageable.

Empath - Eden has an uncanny level of insight when it comes to reading people‘s feelings, particularly when people are sad, hurt, or afraid. He uses this enhanced skill to try and help comfort people.

Limitations:

Lingering Death - food makes Eden sick / tastes terrible, sleep doesn’t happen, breathing is technically optional

Overall aura of undeath sometimes makes people (particularly those that see spirits) uncomfortable

Poor Vision - particularly at a distance, Eden’s vision is not great due to the damage to his eyes. In a modern setting, he would be classified as having low vision and would use an ID cane in some situations.

Inventory: 2 Daggers, 2 Books (Paradise Lost, Book of Pastoral Poems), 1 Mobile Phone, 1 Slightly Burnt Family Photo, 1 Component Pouch, 1 Healer’s Kit, SCREEN, 1 handheld video game, at least 2 blankets

Personality In Brief: | fearful | sensitive | meek | wants to help | eccentric | awkward |

Eden is a soft-spoken, gentle person currently confronting the often cruel and uncontrollable nature of his own existence. His sudden death and the pain that immediately followed have made him a much more cautious and fearful person than he was in his previous life, and that has carried over into how he chooses to interact with and help people. He is a pacifist and healer by choice, and will go well out of his way to make sure the people he’s travelling with are safe and happy. That being said, he is also easily overwhelmed or pushed around and can be bullied by his patron or other characters into situations where aggression/combat might be necessary.

Though his understanding of things and approaches to social interaction are sometimes unorthodox - especially now that his perspectives on mortality, morality, and faith are changing - Eden’s goal is always to help people deal with whatever is causing them discomfort or sadness. If he can do that without getting acknowledged, even better: some people react with fear when they encounter beings like the Archangel, so maybe it it’s best if they don’t ever see him either.

Miscellaneous  Notes:

Formerly human, not used to his new appearance - won’t immediately recognise his new face in mirrors, not used to having wings

Doesn’t have complete / clear memories immediately following his resurrection

The Archangel is severe and demands cooperation - as far as Eden is aware, it is either follow orders or go back to being dead

Eden’s patron is technically ‘good’, but is not above using fear, pain, or outright control over warlocks to achieve results

Eden’s senses are a lot different now than they were when he was alive. Everything has a sound or a voice - even feelings, ideas, and sensations. These tangle together so much that things can become kind of overwhelming.

[blackpinkfanpage3-blog]

Blackpink Became the Biggest K-Pop Female Band in the World

Blackpink fan page

It is very taken just four several years for Blackpink to become most significant girl bands in the world, having members Jennie, Jisoo, Rosé, and Lisa continuing to be able to smash new records along with forge new ground. These folks were the first K-pop girl class to play at Coachella in order to reach 1 billion Dailymotion views-now they’re the most-subscribed-to music group on the platform, as 2019, they broke several Guinness World Records together with the single “Kill This Like, ” which has had in excess of 312 million plays in Spotify and over 824 , 000, 000 YouTube views, a mere tiny proportion of the quartet’s billions of revenues, downloads, views, and admirers. That same year in addition, they undertook the most financially productive concert tour by a Korean language female group. They’re front-row fixtures at runway demonstrates and the faces of brilliant brands, including Chanel, The puma company, Louis Vuitton, and Dior. Or any this with just a few songs in their repertoire.

Blackpink fan page

Currently, as they prepare to release their particular latest album in Summer, it may be time to ask: The way on earth did they do the item?

Excitement prior to Blackpink’s July 2016 debut had meant to a fever pitch, when they were the first girl set in seven years beyond YG Entertainment (home for you to K-pop legends Big Fuck, 2NE1 and formerly, Psy). There were big shoes to help fill: The reign with the trailblazing four-member girl team 2NE1 was over, in addition to Blackpink was expected to resuscitate the bold EDM go crazy sound they’d embodied. All their debut, Square One, ended up being an overnight smash, the particular insistent build of “Whistle” and cocky chorus about “Boombayah” making for a small but thrilling introduction.

With November 2016, their secondly single album, Square A couple, featured a pop banger (“Playing With Fire”), a acoustic version of “Whistle, ” and “Stay, ” a country-influenced track that will allowed them to spread their very own vocal wings away from all their “girl crush” concept (K-pop vernacular for a fiery search and sound that’s shown immensely popular with international audiences).

Though they were dubbed “the new 2NE1” during their novice days, some of their first hearings on Korean variety indicates bring into focus but not only Blackpink’s chaotically entertaining reputation but the determination to create their own identities. Vocalist Jisoo has become a face for magnificence brands Kiss Me as well as Dior; rapper and performer Jennie has branched available as a soloist and a powerful influencer; New Zealand-born Rosé’s particular vocal sound has found her on hits with regard to G-Dragon; and Thailand-born artist and dancer Lisa is a most-followed K-pop star with Instagram.

Then, and now, many people recognize the need for each other to carry out the group alchemy here is endeared them to millions. “I don’t think a specific new member should do more dancing as well as one member does considerably more singing. I think Blackpink’s relaxation is complete because of each one person’s energy, ” Jennie told Vogue Korea prior this year.

The long-standing imaginative and prescient vision of K-pop as a blinged-out, ultra-slick fantasy world is made by three labels: YG Entertainment, JYP Entertainment, and also SM Entertainment. YG is acknowledged for maximalist visuals and a hefty, club-friendly sound devised by simply in-house writer-producer Teddy Park your car, the man behind some of K-pop’s biggest, hookiest hits. With Blackpink’s 2018 “Ddu-du Ddu-du” (“DDDD” for short), these elements aligned to produce the irresistible pop package.

Achievements lay in the catchy se?alar refrain, the memorable finger-gun dance, and a gloriously increased video, but also in Blackpink themselves as aspirational yet emulatable, aesthetically fierce and not intimidating, killer onstage nevertheless adorable off it. Often the four-track EP, Square Upwards, would go platinum in Sth Korea, “DDDD” would arrive at gold in the U. S i9000., becoming their first billion-view video, and “Kill That Love” would make them typically the first-ever Korean girl party to enter the U. E. singles chart.

These milestones came via a fandom in which had grown rapidly due to the fact late 2016, but which will had to wait eight several months for 2017’s single “As If It’s Your Continue, ” then an entire calendar year for its follow-up, Square Right up. One release per year used to be standard in K-pop, if there were fewer groups dealing with for a share of a modest domestic market. Groups currently average two or three releases (known as “comebacks”) a year in a very bid to grow and maintain fandoms, but YG Entertainment, considered one of South Korea’s oldest K-pop agencies, remains unapologetically invested in less is more.

It’s not really a huge fail-safe plan-it draws continual fan criticism, petitions, along with boycott threats-but the old-school approach, in an era connected with oversaturation and instant prime, has created heightened desire in addition to demand. It’s turned just about every comeback into a global affair and has funneled the fandom’s streaming power into the types of headline-making, spreadsheet-melting numbers that contain seduced many a point executive.

Like many profitable musicians, Blackpink understands the capability in marrying the oceans of music and manner. Their innate understanding of model has made them hot residence, with the girls now front-row fixtures at Fashion 1 week. In September 2019, Jisoo popped over to London regarding Burberry, while Rosé wowed at Saint Laurent (and was also asked by means of Anthony Vaccarello to be it has the brand ambassador). Meanwhile, Jennie found herself next to Cardi B at Chanel, intended for whom she is a brand ambassadress.

In February 2020, Lisa-currently a muse for Hedi Slimane’s Celine-took a trip to Hong kong for Prada’s fall 2020 show, and just this week, placed a #WFH look to seducre her Instagram account (high-waisted light-wash denim, a Celine button-down shirt, and Bottega Veneta’s latest envelope clutch) this garnered more than 5 zillion likes.

Given their tested selling power-magazines have claimed needing to print quadruple reports to supply demand; their adventures sell out in seconds-the romance between the band and fashion’s leading houses will longer continue to flourish.

Blackpink seemed to be signed to U. Nasiums. -based Interscope Records at the end of 2018, a direct play for any American market and something not any South Korean girl class had tried since Girls’ Generation in 2012. Even with their skill and practical experience, Blackpink’s awkward, lackluster January 2019 performances on Hello America and The Late Indicate With Stephen Colbert ended up widely panned. But in the front of a vast, mostly K-pop-unaware audience at Coachella, often the universality of the group’s sounds bloomed, earning rave critiques. A high point was the great “Kill This Love, ” the title single from their completely new EP.

It’s rare the fact that members aren’t busy, regardless if there isn’t a let go to promote. They often turn to Instagram to communicate with their blended 128 million followers (including the main Blackpink account), and get focused on solidifying their A-list status as fashion building (such as Jennie’s new collaboration with luxury glasses brand Gentle Monster), marketplace mentors, and accidental virus-like queens (Lisa’s stint for the survival show Youth To you and her performance videos that became a Made it happen Work? meme).

And finally, 1 year after their last file, the wait is almost over. There are the forthcoming Lady Gaga relationship, “Sour Candy, ” for a laugh album Chromatica, and a July comeback from the band themselves. Could Blackpink eventually as the first K-pop girl set to break through in the West? An opportunity is there for the taking, although that means new successes need to be capitalized upon and previous strategies reexamined and polished. Now might be the time to get Blackpink to really be the emerging trend.

[pengiesama]

The Gang Crashes a Party While in Drag (Chapter 2)(Fic, TOZ, Sorey/Mikleo)

Title: The Gang Crashes a Party While in Drag (Chapter 1, Chapter 2) Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Sorey/Mikleo

Summary:

Sorey and the crew investigate reports of a black market trafficking ring, and zero in on a particularly nasty noble at the center of it all. Luckily, said noble is opening his chateau to host a masquerade – the perfect opportunity to get close. Unluckily, the Shepherd’s fame has spread wide, and Sorey needs a disguise to make sure he’s incognito.

This is achieved by the obvious solution, and that’s to disguise him in a dress and pass him off as Rose’s sister. What could possibly go wrong?

Notes:

Written for the Sorey/Mikleo 2019 Big Bang! @sormikbigbang​

I partnered up with the wonderful Arivess @minstrels-ink​ and Nami; both of whom provided their artistic skills to complement my wack-ass ideas. I am eternally grateful to them.

Arivess’s art is featured in Chapter 1! You can find her Tumblr here. Nami’s art is featured in Chapter 2! You can find her Twitter here.

Link: AO3

Read on Tumblr!

“Presenting the representatives of House Sparrowfeather: Lord Roseino Sparrowfeather, first of his name. And the Lady Soreyella Sparrowfeather.”

“Our RSVPs must’ve been lost in the mail,” Rose began in an exaggeratedly posh accent, twisting her mustache as she spoke. “Surely you must have heard of us, else mamá and papá would be simply furious. And that is of course not getting into the matter of grandmamá and grandpapá…”

Rose’s ability to talk her way into anything wasn’t quite working as well as they’d hoped, and the staff seemed unmoved; frowning as he searched through the guest list for their names. Shyly, Sorey twirled a curl of his blonde wig around his finger, and cast a glance up at the armored guards and household staff who were eyeing him. His eyelashes were thick with some weird black stuff that Lailah had put on them; he fluttered them a few times to clear his vision.

“P-pleased to m-meet you,” Sorey said softly, before bending his knees into a curtsy, just as Lailah had taught him. Lailah had not, however, taught him to flash so much cleavage with the motion, and Sorey seemed oblivious to the affect it would have.

The affect being this: an instant success in Phase One of the plan.

The head staff member, recovering from his swoon at the sight of this soft-spoken and utterly charming big-titted ingenue, immediately ushered them into the ballroom proper to mingle.

(Before he wandered back to his post, he tried to get another glimpse down that bodice of House Sparrowfeather’s youngest maiden daughter – but suddenly, as if struck by heavenly judgment, he was doused with a torrent of icy-cold water from sources unknown. It also kind of felt like someone invisible stomped on his foot. Sputtering and confused, the staff member stumbled away.)

The party attendees were quite cosmopolitan – nobles and high-powered business owners from Hyland and Rolance alike. Rose and Sorey wove through the crowd to a quiet corner to regroup and discuss their next steps.

“…who does this chump noble think he is, not ACTUALLY inviting the head of the largest shipping and distribution company on the continent…” Rose griped. “I’m gonna go hit the punch table and work my charms on everyone worth charming. Sorey, keep your eyes peeled for an opportunity to sneak out. And…”

She trailed off. She was going to ask Mikleo to try to avoid hosing down every guest who tried to approach Sorey, but the current look on his face let her know that this might be…a little much to ask, right now, lest she also face the wrath of the hose. She beat a hasty retreat to the safety of the punch table.

“I’m going to go sit in the bowl of spinach dip and steal all the shrimp at the buffet,” Edna declared with no room for argument. She then made her way slowly away, yanking on her pantaloons and skidding around in her fancy buckled shoes, walking like a baby deer trying to take its first steps.

Zaveid tapped a perfectly-manicured finger against his lipsticked lips, scanning the room critically. “Ya think anyone’s drunk enough yet to not realize they’re dancin’ with someone invisible?”

“I think Lailah may already be testing that idea out…” Sorey said. He pointed to where Lailah was currently twirling a pair of slightly bewildered nobles around by the hand; the tails of her suit swirling around her like a comet’s as she moved.

“Great! We can get a conga line goin’!” Zaveid said happily. He then pranced off to join Lailah; heels clacking on the polished marble as he went.

Sorey looked around nervously. He tugged on his bodice, absently; it really was so tight. How did any of these people dance while dressed like this? He loved the skirts, he really did; they were like capes, but more. Maybe they weren’t quite as suited to climbing and exploration as trousers, but, well, Mikleo used to wear that dress-like thing when he was younger, right? And he made do just fine.

He looked at Mikleo. Mikleo was standing in front of him like an invisible guard, scowling at the crowd of people around them. He didn’t look as excited to be here as he should. They were going to finally see the archivolts, weren’t they?

“So…” Sorey said, trying to lighten Mikleo’s mood. “Do you want me to get you some punch too? Or some dip before Edna sits in it?”

Mikleo gave an unintelligible grunt. Geez, he really was in a bad mood…

“Are your shoes hurting your feet again?” Sorey asked. He tapped his head. “You can hop in here to rest a little bit.”

“No,” Mikleo snapped. “Can you seriously not see that all these people are…ugh, never mind.”

Someone nearby carrying two drinks was very suddenly doused in water. Sorey blinked, and stuck his hand down his bodice to fish out his handkerchief to help dry them off. Mikleo seized his wrist, dragged it out of his cleavage, and dragged Sorey away from their corner.

“Don’t bother helping them,” Mikleo said. “I heard what they were planning.”

“Planning?” Sorey echoed. “Mikleo, they were just carrying drinks.”

“They were going to offer one of those drinks to you. And then probably ask you to dance.”

“…I mean, I can’t really dance, but what’s the harm in asking me?”

Mikleo’s jaw tightened, and his lips pursed into a pout. His cheeks and ears were burning red.

“It’s – it’s rude and disingenuous and just a ploy. First a drink and then dancing and then they ask you out to the gardens alone and then they’ll sweet talk you and get all handsy.”

Sorey wasn’t sure that Mikleo’s line of logic was really tracking, here. Absently, he yanked on his bodice again; it really was so tight, and his squished-up chest was jiggling with every move he made.

“So…what do people usually do at these parties if they don’t drink or eat or dance or talk to anyone? Aren’t we supposed to be blending in?”

Mikleo led him to another secluded corner, and dragged over several empty chairs at once with his artes. He used these chairs to barricade their new fortress, and seal Sorey off behind them. He then sat himself on the frontmost chair, spreading out his knees in his gown and planting his feet on the marbled floor. He crossed his arms, and returned to his previous activity of scowling at the crowd. The nearest party-goers to them shivered at the cold sensation of being glared at by a phantom evil eye.

“…are we blending in?” Sorey asked.

“I am,” Mikleo said. “Perfectly.”

For her part, Rose was blending in with more success than Sorey. She flitted from guest to guest, from lady to lord, flirting her heart out and fluttering away, leaving broken hearts in her wake as she searched out information for their investigation. Information, or at least someone who could keep up with her on the dance floor. Maybe she should join Lailah and Zaveid’s conga line for a while to spice things up—

“Rose.”

…Well. There was bound to be someone to see through her clever disguise. And it just had to be someone who she couldn’t charm, no matter how hard she tried.

But she was open to trying again.

“Princess,” Rose greeted Alisha, offering her a hand to dance.

This party’s guest list was really just too interesting. So many influential business owners, but not Rose herself. So many nobles, but with so many mysterious absences. And so many equally mysterious attendees. Alisha, of all the nobles, had been invited – Princess Alisha Diphda, the youngest, the least influential, and certainly not the easiest to get along with. And even more certainly, not the easiest to bribe.

“Lord Mardoc throws a great party, doesn’t he?” Rose asked as they twirled around the room. “Man, it’s like waltzing was made for having these tense secret discussions in a packed ballroom. I can whisper anything I want into your ear and no one else will hear it. Ow.”

Alisha’s hand quickly moved back into position from where it was previously pinching Rose’s wandering hand.

“Rose,” she hissed back into Rose’s ear. “Why are you in that ridiculous disguise? Did you – did you sneak in!?”

“No sneaking,” Rose promised. “We just showed up at the gate like this. They saw my mustache and were charmed.”

With an irritated noise, Alisha reached up and yanked off the false moustache from Rose’s lip. The nerve!

“Tell me why you’re here,” Alisha demanded.

Princess Alisha Diphda. Not the easiest to get along with, and whose cooperation and good opinion could not be bought. For whatever reason she’d been invited here, Rose was sure it wasn’t because she was in on Mardoc’s business ventures.

So, she told her the story of how they’d found themselves here. Alisha was quiet, and listened throughout. (She giggled at Rose’s description of Zaveid’s entrance in his new gown, though. It was a sound Rose tucked away in her heart.)

“…Lord Mardoc of House Melwas is one of the only voices in the Hyland Senate that is still against the war with Rolance,” Alisha said. “His support is…vital, both politically and financially. I often find that he is the only one in the room who is listening when I speak at Senate meetings, and – during this past month’s proceedings, he invited me to this ball, so I could meet with like-minded supporters, he said…he said there were others, like us, who don’t want war, and if I could just speak with them in person…”

“So you’re here to network,” Rose finished for her. “Turn a blind eye to Mardoc’s extracurricular activities for the greater good, huh? They fund the anti-war effort, after all.”

Alisha glowered at her, eyes burning with determination and anger. “I said nothing of the sort. I’ve heard rumors of Lord Mardoc’s involvement in – shady work. Rumors. I have hope that they are baseless accusations, spread by those who are envious of Lord Mardoc’s legitimate business ventures, or those who wish to discredit him and his anti-war efforts. But I know that I must get the truth of it. I’m here to confront him; to ask him, face-to-face, if these rumors are real.”

Rose barked a short, helpless, offended laugh. “Am I really hearing this!? You think that you’ll get a straight answer out of him by asking him about it nicely?”

Alisha’s face burned red. “I—”

“And what happens if the rumors really are true, hmm?” Rose continued, low, in Alisha’s ear. “What if you find out that he’s been funding you with dirty money? Are you gonna arrest him right then and there, cart him off to jail? Watch as he pulls some strings to drop all the charges, then drops you like a rock after that? No more friendly face in the Senate for you.”

Alisha was silent. Rose stared at her, evenly.

“I hope you’ve thought about this, Alisha,” she murmured. “I hope you’ve thought about this really hard.”

While this drama was unfolding, further drama was unfolding at Fort Mikleo. Sorey had grown tired of being confined to a corner and guarded by a surly, invisible gargoyle in a dress (but a pretty gargoyle, Sorey had to mentally add), and had slipped the lead to escape back onto the dance floor. Mikleo was not far behind, and continued to guard him against the swarm of people who – honestly, all they were doing was offering him things, or telling him how pretty he looked, or asking to dance! The gifts were just jewelry and flowers and perfume, nothing interesting like a book or an Ancient Avarost artifact. And he couldn’t dance, and he knew they were just being nice with the compliments, because if they saw Mikleo they’d knew that Sorey was nowhere near as pretty as him. Sorey didn’t know why Mikleo was getting so upset.

“Lady Sparrowfeather!”

“Maiden Soreyella! Ah, you shy away from me once more, but my heart still burns!”

“Lady Sparrowfeather, please, just one dance and a kiss to your hand under the moonlight, and I will be sustained in love for all eternity…”

Mikleo hosed them all down again. This was becoming a very damp masquerade.

Even if Mikleo was being…strangely adamant about it, Sorey could maybe understand why he didn’t want them getting caught up with a million dance requests. They really did need to start looking through the mansion soon, before it got too late and the bustle of the party died down – that was an essential distraction, one that they needed to remain undetected.

– but they also needed to get OUT of the party undetected, and that was proving to be something of a problem…

“Unhand the blonde maiden!”

A booming voice made all of Sorey’s suitors stop dead in their tracks. Slowly, they turned around.

Sorey’s savior had come, in the form of another unexpected undercover agent. Captain Sergei Strelka of the Rolance Plantium Knights stood before them, resplendent in a dazzling glittering ballgown and a flowing chestnut brown wig. He had not shaved his facial hair for the venture. Arms crossed and shoulders back, he stared down the party-goers, a challenge in his gaze.

“As I said – unhand the blonde maiden! If you wish to dance, I challenge you to keep up with me! That is, of course, if any of you think you have the ability!”

Some of the suitors were clearly taken aback by this lady’s brusqueness. However, just as many of them were clearly totally into it. Whatever their thoughts on the matter, it was clear to Sorey and Mikleo both that this was their chance to bolt.

“Should we try to find the others first?” Sorey whispered as they went for the door.

Edna was clearly visible (to them, at least) from their position: sitting waist-deep in the spinach dip bowl, stuffing fistfuls of shrimp into her mouth and throwing the tails at those who ventured near her lair to seek dip. Lailah and Zaveid, to their credit, had seen the commotion and were in the process of keeping the guards distracted. They couldn’t quite find Rose – probably caught up in flirting information out of someone, no doubt.

“We gotta go now,” Mikleo said, dragging Sorey out into the halls. “Sergei can’t keep them all distracted forever.”

This was true enough. But where to start first, when looking for the evidence they needed?

“If I was a corrupt nobleman at the head of a black market human trafficking ring,” Sorey began aloud. “Where would I store all the evidence of my wicked deeds?”

Mikleo slanted a side look at him, and smirked.

“An underground cathedral,” he said.

“With archivolts,” Sorey added.

To a lesser man, it would be somewhat difficult to determine where in Chateau Melwas the entrance to its ancient underground cathedral lay. But that is because a lesser man had not poured over maps of Baudemagus Cathedral and had not planned elaborate imaginary expeditions through its depths with their very best friend before bed every Thursday night for ten years. With the help of a map of the chateau provided by Rose before the infiltration, it was child’s play for them to find the most likely entry-points from an architectural standpoint.

(“What are they even talking about?” Rose had asked helplessly as they compared the map she’d provided with the map from their dusty old atlas. “What cathedral? Check in his study or something first!”

“Rose,” sighed Lailah. “Must you still ask these things?”

Rose hung her hand. “I know…could you and Zaveid try doing a sweep of the upper floors while they do whatever?”

“Of course.”)

And so, they arrived: Baudemagus Cathedral, ancient underground marvel, thought lost to the world when its caretakers had built their private property on top of it. It was, honestly, inexcusable from a scholarly standpoint; to seal off an important historical point of interest from the public eye like this.

What was even more inexcusable was letting it become a breeding ground for hellions.

“Well,” Sorey said, unsheathing his sword from a hidden fold in his skirts. “Whatever he’s doing down here, it’s not good!”

Mikleo stared at him, stared at his chest, then flicked his eyes back up to his face.

“You’re going to be fighting like that?”

“…it’s not like I have anything else?” Sorey replied, confused.

That (very cute) pout pursed Mikleo’s mouth once more, and with a furious growl, he took the skirts of his own gown into his fists and ripped. Quickly, he tied the dangling strips around his long legs; freeing him from their confines, and also showing Sorey that he’d been wearing white thigh-highs and garters underneath. And also was wearing his own shoes instead of heels. Sorey was struck with two emotions by this display: fondness, and horniness. He was also struck by an idea of his own, and his fingers went up to his bodice.

He tugged hard; once, twice, until the laces sprang untied. He heaved a deep breath, relishing the air in his lungs, and the cool breeze on his bared chest. Mikleo’s eyes went huge, and he sprang in front of Sorey again, shielding him from the view of the prowling hellions.

He tugged hard; once, twice, until the laces sprang untied. He heaved a deep breath, relishing the air in his lungs, and the cool breeze on his bared chest. Mikleo’s eyes went huge, and he sprang in front of Sorey again, shielding him from the view of the prowling hellions.

“Mikleo?”

“I’m getting tired of – people looking at you like you’re a piece of meat tonight!” Mikleo said, swinging his staff like a bat to swat off a hellion that’d finally taken the initiative to pounce.

“Well, I’m – I’m tired of people not looking at you at all!” Sorey said, springing into the fight as well. “You look so pretty, Mikleo! Tonight, and all the time!”

They were back to back in the cathedral hall, covering for each other as the hellions attacked. Sorey turned his head just enough to confirm that Mikleo’s ear and cheek were red.

“You looked so pretty in the ballroom! If everyone could just see you there, I bet there’d be no more malevolence, and no more war, and everyone could live side-by-side—”

“Call my name and finish all these jerks off!” Mikleo interrupted. “If they haven’t already died from all the sap you’re spitting!”

Sorey grinned and briefly leaned his head back onto Mikleo’s shoulder. “First you’re worried about my modesty, and now you’re telling me you want me in that skintight suit. C’mon, Mikleo, you’re giving me mixed signals here.”

Still, with a shout of Mikleo’s true name and a shower of arrows, they stood triumphant in the shadowed cathedral hall. They split apart, and – still in their disheveled gowns – took a moment to catch their breath.

“Thank you for cleaning up the place. It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen guests down here.”

It was an unfamiliar voice, and an unfamiliar face that greeted them. But from context, it was clear enough who he was.

“Lord Mardoc?” Sorey asked.

Mardoc smirked and gave a sarcastic tip of his head. “Pleasure, Shepherd. And guest.”

Sorey’s eyes widened, and he briefly looked at Mikleo before looking back to Mardoc. “You can—”

“See your seraph? Yes, I’ve been seeing things like him since I was small,” Mardoc idly said. “And things like those creatures at your feet…”

He lifted a hand, and the hellions that were still responsive enough seemed to react to the command there.

“They listen to me now,” he murmured. “They’ve always been here, beneath the chateau. Whispering and speaking to me in my bed at night. Why are you here, Shepherd? Invading my ancestral hall, drawing your sword in a holy place?”

The malevolence around Mardoc was thick; thick enough that Sorey was worried Mikleo would get nauseous. He was strong, now; strong enough to stand tall against this kind of corruption and protect those who needed him.

“Lord Mardoc. There are reports of a human trafficking ring stretching across the continent. Are you behind it?” Sorey asked.

“Yes,” Mardoc said.

…oh.

That was straightforward.

Mardoc lifted his chin and sniffed dismissively. “What of it, Shepherd? What, exactly, did you intend to accomplish by coming here tonight? Did you expect to find piles of clandestine paperwork in my handwriting, books and invoices? Did you expect to find rows of caged innocents for you to triumphantly set free?”

He didn’t wait for Sorey to answer. He laughed aloud, and started pacing in a tight circle as he spoke.

“Oh yes, I’m behind it all. A business venture that’s joined Hyland and Rolance together! It’s the greatest effort for peace between our nations that we’ve seen in decades. I am providing people with salvation. You’ve seen the world as it is now! Starvation, pestilence, war. The people approach me, begging me to save them. It’s an entirely reasonable exchange. I put them in touch with interested buyers. The money goes seventy percent to a beneficiary of their choosing – a starving family, for example – and thirty percent to me, as compensation for the service. And I take that thirty percent, every last bit, and put it towards efforts against the war.”

He was continuing to laugh as he went on, the sound becoming more and more hysterical.

“You all think I’m doing it for the money! But I’m not. House Melwas’ coffers sustain me handsomely! This work of mine is entirely in service of humanity. I am the most compassionate of those in the current market – arrest me, Shepherd, and the market won’t just go away. The problem won’t go away. They’ll go somewhere else, to someone else, to sell themselves! Or they’ll just die in the streets. Do you want that on your conscience? Is that something your pure heart can rationalize away?”

“Sorey, tell me you’re not buying any of this,” Mikleo said, low. “He’s trying to rationalize human trafficking because all proceeds go to charity.”

“Believe me, I’m not,” Sorey said back. “But he’s about one more minute of monologuing away from going full hellion, so brace yourself.”

“Such compassion you show towards your fellow man!” spat Mardoc. The aura of malevolence surrounding him spiked, intensified, boiled over. “Shepherd!”

And so, it came down to this: Shepherd Sorey and his faithful seraph Mikleo, dressed to kill, versus the Lord Mardoc of House Melwas, corrupted by malevolence and twisted into a monstrous form: a wolf-centipede, like the man that started this all, but so much larger, so much fatter, and constantly weeping false crocodile tears. Two against one, with the odds heavily in favor of the one.

“What’s the plan?” Mikleo shouted, dodging away from Mardoc’s strikes. “Did you call for everyone else!?”

“I did, but they still need to get down here!” Sorey yelled back. “We just need to hold our ground until then!”

Mikleo got a thoughtful look on his face. “Or…we could see if he falls for the same trick as the other one.”

“Getting knocked into a tree?” Sorey asked, confused. “Mikleo, we’re in a cathedral.”

“With plenty of pillars underneath those archivolts. Get it?”

Sorey did. “Luzrov Rulay!”

An arrow to the face, then another. Then, an arrow to a nearby pillar. Sparks of blue light erupted from the ends of the arrows, and suddenly, a chain emerged connecting the two. Mardoc screamed, and tried to pull away to no avail. He found himself chained in place, unable to do anything but thrash as Sorey and Mikleo circled around him; pinning him down further, to more pillars.

“SHEPHERD. DO YOU THINK THESE PILLARS CAN HOLD BACK MY RIGHTEOUS FURY?” Mardoc’s distorted voice growled. “I’LL TOPPLE THEM AND BRING THIS CATHEDRAL DOWN ON ALL OUR HEADS.”

“And bring your house down with it, with all your friends and supporters?” Mikleo shot back. “Hollow threat. Serves you right for building on top of a historical landmark.”

Mikleo shot another arrow between his eyes to punctuate his remark. Sorey felt himself swoon.

“Sorey! Mikleo!”

The cavalry had arrived, with some unexpected guests: alongside Rose and the other seraphim, Alisha and Sergei hurried as well. Sorey and Mikleo separated into two again, and explained what had just occurred to the late arrivals.

Alisha…did not seem to be taking the news well. She took a steadying breath.

“…thank you, Shepherd Sorey, Lord Mikleo. I apologize on behalf of Hyland for allowing this man to operate in our midst.”

Mardoc let out a horrible noise, a mix between a shriek and a sob.

“PRINCESS. DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? OF ALL PEOPLE. WE WERE DOING SO MUCH GOOD.”

Alisha lifted her head and looked at Mardoc directly, staring directly into his monstrous visage. But she couldn’t see the hellion he was right now, could she? Without resonance, all she could see was the battered, bloodied body of the man she once called her only ally. Wholly human.

“I will not build peace on a foundation made from such despicable acts,” Alisha said. “By the order of the Hyland crown, I am placing you under arrest.”

Sergei, his expression grave, bowed at the waist to Alisha. His dress glimmered in the low candlelight, dazzling. “Respectfully, Lady Diphda, I request an audience to discuss how we will manage trying him for his crimes committed under Rolance’s jurisdiction…”

Of all the things to bring two nations together, a criminal trial for a human trafficking operation would not have been anyone’s first choice.

But it was a start.

  --

 “…honestly, I don’t know how you do it, fighting in that tiny little corset of yours. I was about to suffocate the second we walked out of the inn…”

“I could say the same about you and heels.”

The ball was winding down – nothing killed a party like the combined forces of the Hyland and Rolance knights coming in and declaring that everyone present was being detained on suspicions of collaboration with a continent-wide trafficking ring. Sorey and Mikleo, however, had slipped out to take a walk through the gardens. It was quiet, out here, and moonlit. The perfect place for a private dance.

Sorey grinned and dragged Mikleo flush against him, one hand on his perfectly sloping waist.

“Hey!” squawked Mikleo.

“I’ve been dying to dance with someone all night,” Sorey said. “But someone’s been too busy hosing down guests to take the hint.”

Mikleo’s face was so very expressive; it was only one of the many things Sorey loved about him. He cycled from a pout, to wide-eyed surprise, to a charming blush, to a shy smile.

His hand came up to rest on Sorey’s, his other grasped Sorey’s shoulder for balance.

“I guess I do need to show them that you’re spoken for, Lady Sparrowfeather.”

[miss-writes-a-lot]

RWBY: Team HELL Prologue: Hemlock Trailer

(A/N: Here I am. Presenting you with my trash oc rwby series. Here's team hell. Tell me what you think. Feedback is greatly encouraged. Also my laptop is dead, so this will be written on my phone.)

Series Summary: Young orphan Aurora Hemlock is one of the few surviving silver eyed warriors in all of Remnant. She's only fourteen and does not have a complete grasp on her special power or semblance-or anything for that matter, stopping her from achieving her dream of becoming a huntress.

Luckily, On a night of chance, she's offered to attend Haven Academy and fulfill her dream. But she gets more than she bargained for when she is giving the responsibility of being leader of a team with the hunter-in-training that saved her life, a vibrant and fouled mouth fanus, and a quiet, timid farmboy from Vale.

Will she be able to rise to the occasion and be the huntress she's dreamed of becoming or will she and her team crumble and fall at her feet?

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

The roof seemed to crack open, debris falling down upon her. The house rattled as those big, glowing red eyes stared back at her. Screams filled the room as bits of the ceiling fell around her.

"AURORA, NO!" Someone screamed, their blurry body lunging towards her as the towering beast screeched loudly into the sky. "PEARL!"

She felt a push and flew to the other side of the room, the blurry falling to the floor as the beast lunged down on them, gobbling them up-

--------------------------------------------------

Aurora's eyes shot open as she felt her room shake. The walls cracked and she could hear the sounds of distant screaming.

An earthquake? No, this didn't feel like any old earthquake. This was an invasion.

A Grimm invasion.

She shot up and scurried to the door, throwing it open just as Cassum, her caretaker, fell through.

"Cassum, what-?!"

"Ro, we have to go. Now." He said, standing up.

"Go? Go where?"

"Anywhere but here! Grimm are crawling all over the place! Grab whatever you can fit into a backpack or whatever and meet me downstairs!"

"W-wait, it can't be bad enough for us to leave for good, can it?" She asked, completely oblivious.

Cassum walked to her window and opened the blinds, showing her the turmoil that was going on outside. Several nevermores circled overhead and going down to attack. Beowolves patrolled the streets and ursai attacked innocent people. Aurora watched, almost frozen in fear. Cassum pulled her away from the window.

"Come on. Grab whatever you can in five minutes and meet me downstairs." He said.

She nodded, immediately grabbing a duffel bag and shoving everything in her room that could fit inside. She couldn't stop thinking about leaving her home-the home she never stepped a foot out of, the home that kept her safe, the home that was being destroyed that very second.

But she couldn't stop to mourn. She only had a minute and she needed to get the hell out of there as fast as possible. She grabbed a backpack and threw in her prototype weapons in along with various other things that she couldn't fit in the duffel bag.

She sprinted down the stairs and outside where Cassum had been waiting for her, taking one last longing look at her house before being pulled away. They ran among the crowd of people that were desperately trying to get onto the flurry of trains that had yet to be touched by the Grimm.

City officials were working on getting everyone on in an orderly fashion, which obviously didn't last. Cassum and Aurora were in the very back of the crowd, and Cassum was becoming restless by the minute.

Aurora looked around, and through the crowd of people, she saw a man trapped under the rubble of a fallen house. His family was gathered around him, having a really hard time getting the rubble off of him.

' He needs help...I need to help...'

She turned in the direction of the house and was about to take off running when she felt Cassum's hand pull her back.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"There's a guy trapped under that house. He needs-"

"No. No, you're staying with me."

Aurora was confused. "What do you mean 'no?'"

Cassum sighed. "Ro, I know you want to help, but it's not our place. Niether of us are strong enough to get him out. The huntsmen will be here to help him."

"And what if they don't make it in time?"

Cassum didn't say anything. He couldn't even look at her because even he hated what he was trying to imply. Aurora's mouth fell open in shock. "I can't...you would really-"

"Ro, I'm sorry but it's the truth. We can't just go in guns blazing. Niether of us are even close to the skill level as huntsmen, and your semblance isn't exactly that developed. We're just bookshop owners. There's nothing we can do for him...."

Aurora bit her lip, taking one last look at the man trapped under rubble before throwing her duffle bad at Cassum and going into a full sprint back. "SAVE ME A SEAT ON THE TRAIN! I'LL BE BACK IN A SEC!"

"AURORA!"

Cassum's cries fell on deaf ears as Aurora ran through the crowds of people until her legs stopped her in front of the fallen house.

"I-I'm here to help!" She said.

"Please hurry! They're coming!" His wife cried.

She nodded, her arms out and ready. She shut her eyes tightly as she let her levitation semblance do the work. Cassum was right; Aurora had only unlocked her semblance a month or two ago, and she hadn't really done anything like this before, but her heart was driving her now, and it was telling her to help them. She strained as she lifted the heavy pieces of wall off the screaming man.

"Hurry! There's a pack of Beowolves heading towards us." One of the children shouted.

'Dang it! C'mon! Just....just a little...more!'

Aurora gritted her teeth, tighten her grip as she desperately tried to save this stranger. She opened one of her eyes and found that he was free. She had lifted an a giant piece of wall off of him!

"HE'S FREE! NOW GO!"

His wife and eldest daughter pulled him up and quickly ran away. Beowolves descended upon her. She flung the giant piece of rubble at the pack and took off running. She had to lead them away from the people, away from Cassum. She sprinted off in the direction of a near by dust shop, Beowolves hot on her trail.

'I have to keep going! If I don't, I'll die! I need to get to that dust shop and use it for my prototypes. That'll hold them off until the huntsmen get here, or until I can get to Cassum and get out of here!'

The beasts howled as they picked up speed. Aurora gasped, trying her best to make it in time. She made a hard left and finally came upon the abandoned shop. She jumped through the shatter bay window and behind the counter. She dug through her hoodie pockets and...

DAMNIT!

She had left the prototypes in her duffle bag with Cassum!

"DAMNIT!" She shouted.

Now she was really screwed. They were coming. They had seen her. They knew where she was. It was only a matter of time before they would make their way to her-before they would kill her.

She couldn't let that happen-she couldn't leave Cassum alone.

Ideas, Ideas, any ideas?!

She searched the room, eyes darting from side to side, trying to put something together. And then it clicked in her head.

Fire and air dust...if she mashed those together, they would create an explosion. They would take out the Grimm-or at least give her an opening to escape.

But, there were hundreds of these dust crystals-it could trigger a massive explosion that could kill her. She would still leaving Cassum wondering what happened to her before being informed that they found her, dead in the remains of an old dust shop-completely blown to bits. She could practically hear his pained sobs in her head.

But, the Beowolves were closing in, so either way she was dead. And there were a lot more people who could benefit from a few less Grimm. So, she came to a compromise;

As soon as the beasts got close to her, she's throw the two crystals as far as possible to lessen the chances of a massive explosion. If she lived, good. She would find a safe space to wait out the invasion until either the huntsmen arrived or her aura kicked back in enough to get her back on her feet and back to Cassum-if they were still there.

She waited as they got closer and closer, and just as they were a few feet away, she threw the two crystals right at the lead wolf's head and it erupted in a large explosion. Aurora cover her face and shut her eyes tightly as the store front window shattered and the building rumbled.

Her eyes squeezed tight and her ears ringing, Aurora's grip on her head tightened, visions of Cassum throughout her life flashed through her head.

' Cassum...help me....I'm scared... I can't do this...I lied, I'm not a big her like I said I was. I'm not, I'M NOT!'

"....Hey! Can you hear me? Hey!"

Aurora looked up, her vision blurred. A tall figure was gazing down at her. "I...who-?"

"I'm a huntsman. I'm here to help you." The male voice said, scooping her up in his arms and dashed out of the building. Aurora gripped onto the stranger's shirt. Her vision finally adjusted and she looked up to see her savior.

He was young, maybe older than she was-so he couldn't have been a real huntsman-with vermilion red eyes and pretty black hair slicked back. He caught her gaze and flashed a toothy smiled. "Hi!"

Aurora blushed, feeling quite embarrassed that she met this cute boy while in her pjs. "Y-you're not a huntsmen..."

"How'd you guess that?" He asked.

"Well, for one thing-I proper huntsman wouldn't wear a suit and fancy shoes."

The boy stared down at his apparel, his white dress shirt and black dress pants and vest, giving her a shrug. "You can slay monsters in style. Speaking of which, there are some now. So, if you'll excuse me-"

The young man launched Aurora into the air as a giant red glyph appeared above her, sending her higher into the air. "W-what the hell?!"

She watched from below as he drew his red sword and slashed his way through three ursai, opening another portal glyph and appeared right beside her. "Hi again!"

"You-that was amazing!" She beamed.

"Good! Glad you enjoyed! Now, I need to stop us from falling."

Aurora looked down, immediately grabbing onto the boy as they fell through the air and through another crimson glyph, ending up on the roof of a house.

The boy whipped out his scroll, holding out in front of him. "Yo! Harlow! I found another civilian! It's a girl."

"That's good, Lucio. Take her back to the station. See if you can find her family and then meet me at the town square."

"Got it." Lucio continued to talk to 'Harlow' on his scroll. Aurora looked up from his shoulder, her eyes going wide. A nevermore-a big one coming right for them.

She tried to speak, but her words were lost. She began to hit Lucio's arms and shoulders to garner his attention. "Ow, ow! Hey! What're you-?!"

He turned and was taken aback. The giant beast cases and it shot its feathers in their direction Lucio ran, jumping from rooftop to rooftop as they gave chase.

Aurora began to shake, a familiar feeling forming in her body. "Put me down."

"What? No! I have to-!" Lucio leaped to another rooftop and hid behind a chimney.  "I have to get you back to your parents."

"I'm fourteen! I can handle myself! Now let me go!" She struggled in his arms, catching sight of the horrid beast. A lump formed in her throat as she escaped Lucio's grasp and ran to the edge of the roof.

The nevermore caught sight of her and was heading straight for her. This feeling...this power. She had this for years. It was that same light that failed to save her parents. The light that couldn't save those people because all she felt was fear.

But now it was time. She couldn't fail now. Lucio's screams were drowned out as the never more that was inches from her screeched. She opened her eyes as the bright silver light over took her, the rest becoming a shinning blur.

[safestsephiroth]

FFXIVWrite prompt 13: Wax - Kavatch Beamsplitter

Two years had passed. Two years of training in isolation. A lone hyuran woman. Every day that passed, she would throw one more punch and one more kick than the previous day. Every day, she trained, and every day she grew stronger. Every day, she kept the bottle that had once held an antidote nearby.

Every day, she remembered the words of the Beamsplitter:

"Keep the bottle. Think on it. If you can break it upon my skull, then I will teach you more."

She thought of her family. She thought of her home. Destroyed by bandits. The earth scorched behind her. She would not let them down. She would avenge them.

Two years. At the end of two years, she stopped. Not because she could not continue. But because she had realized a truth that had not come to her in all that time.

Her fists were as iron. Her legs as steel. Whatever the reason, she found she was able to perform feats she had never achieved before. She could feel a sort of 'power' flow through her, as nonsensical as it seemed to her. And after two seasons of refining it, of focusing it, she could punch boulders until they cracked. Kick them into pieces. Was this the strength that monks achieved? Was this the power they claimed?

They could stop blades with their hands. They could avoid gunfire. They were able to snatch arrows from the sky. Was she able to, now?

She realized - she didn't need the Beamsplitter at all.

She walked to the nearest town. Worn. Tired. Haggard. But stronger for it. Hair wild and untamed, and she didn't care.

The stopped the first villager she saw.

"You." Her voice rasped. Unused for two years.

"Me?" The man looked at her as if she were a bear. Perhaps she looked as much to him. She had never seen a Roegadyn intimidated by a Hyur before. It was intoxicating.

"You. Bandits with a yellow banner. Where are they?"

"Um..." He stood in silence.

"Where ARE they?" She practically barked it.

"Ask - ask the guards! Their barracks is in the center of the village!"

"Thank you." She stomped past. Kicking the earth harder than she needed. Relishing the feeling of digging her feet into the earth. Shoes long since worn away. She did not need such things. She suspected that at this point she could step on a nail and drive it into the earth rather than into her skin.

Good.

The guards in the barrack were in the midst of a card game when she threw the door open. One fell from his chair, another stood, hand reaching for his sword. "Hey! You can't be in here!"

"Bandits with a yellow banner. Where are they?"

A moment of silence. The man with the sword hesitated. The man on the floor groaned.

"Where?"

"West. They were last seen camping West. They've been collecting tribute. You must not start - wait!"

But she didn't wait. She was gone. Tribute? To bandits? After what they'd done? No. No such thing would be tolerated.

Half a day. She walked half a day before she spotted the banners in the distance. She recognized it immediately. Clenched her fists.

From behind her, a voice.

The Beamsplitter.

"All this time, and vengeance is still on your mind."

"I don't need you."

"And yet you still carry the bottle with you."

She turned. He was just as tall as ever. Just as menacing. Somehow she had expected being stronger would change that. She felt a niggling pain in her gut. The memory of his final blow.

"Your nose did not heal properly, I see. Fortunate, then, that your limbs did."

"I don't need my nose to beat you." She sniffed.

"A nose that crooked makes breathing more difficult. Without breath, you cannot fight."

"That doesn't matter to me. I don't need your help."

"Hmm. Are you sure, wax doll?"

Her jaw clenched. Eyes narrowed. "I am no doll."

"Wax in the shape of a woman."

"I am not /wax./"

"We shall see. Will you fight me? Or seek your vengeance?" His eyes pierced through her soul. "If you fight them now, you will die."

"I don't care." She raised her fists. Shifted her stance. Breathed through her mouth. Those intoxicating waves of power.

"Two years was enough to learn the fundamentals of chi on your own. Interesting. But not enough to learn the futility of death."

"You would have me forsake the dead?"

"Acting for the dead is to carry the burden of one who no longer knows it ever existed. They do not watch, know, or care. Anything which does is the enemy of all living things. The only dead that remain are tortured and tormented by their very existence. The rest move on. Are you eager to join them?"

She pressed her legs to the ground. Launched herself forward, hauled back, throwing a massive punch as she came in on him.

A flash of light from his robes. His hands had raised. They were... glowing?

Her fist was knocked aside with his left arm, thrown skyward. His right connected under her left armpit. Her shoulder shattered immediately. She hit the ground like a sack of bricks. Rolled to her side - leaped up to her feet. Jaw clenched. Left arm hanging at her side.

"If you intend to attack so straightforwardly..."

A glowing red blur. She ducked and turned, a low uppercut aimed for her gut connecting instead with her side. A 'glancing' blow that still broke bone. She inhaled sharply. The breath was agony.

"You must be faster, or stronger. One or the other. Breathe."

She gasped. Fell to one knee.

His stance did not change.

"Do you yield?"

"Shut up." She rose, right arm sweeping up, throwing everything she had into a hook for his side. A thrumming of power, throbbing in her knuckles. Almost reaching beyond her fist.

Beyond?

His left arm came down, elbow connecting with her forearm. The bones splintered - but her blow landed. She had punched trees, punched apart boulders. This was something else.

He rolled his neck. She struggled to her feet. His palm connected between her eyes - she fell back. Vision blurred.

"Wax can carry a flame far longer than any wick alone. Wax is a fuel which is not to be underestimated. And yet, it is too soft. Too malleable. It is a shame you are not yet ready. Perhaps in another two years-"

She groaned - ran her shattered arm over her stomach.

"You stand to damage yourself further."

She clenched her jaw. Fingers digging in. Yanked the bottle from her belt - and in a flash, she had tossed it up and kicked it with everything she had.

The bottle shattered against his jaw.

He was silent, a moment. She lay back against the soil. Trying to breathe. Every motion agony. All she had, spent.

"Very well. Your first lesson will be the most important, then. The fundamental skill which makes all further training possible. Chi can be used to enhance the healing process. Without it, you would spend so much time unable to move, you would never gain enough strength to make a difference." He sank to the ground beside her. Legs crossed. "I will make steel of you yet. First, you must breathe deep."

[greengargouille]

AC x ML: Static, Part 1

((So... Do any of you guys remember when, more than one year ago, I posted something about Which Partner, and I mentioned something about an akumatized Mimura? And then I mentioned it here and there and never seemed to publish any actual content about it?

Well, one year, multiple changes on the costume/power idea and a lot of inspiration, I’m... still not done. But since it’s Which Partner’s second birthday, why not publish the first half as a way to mark the occasion? Besides it being a bad idea for editing in details I forgot, I mean.))

The days following a big project always had a special taste to Mimura.

The freed time was great, of course, nobody would argue that. And it was a relief not having to worry about his parents catching him working on that when he pretended to be studying (well, not so much pretending as not correcting them when they assumed it was the case). But, mostly? It was just the satisfaction of a job well done. One step further toward maturing his skills. Sharpening his vision and showing it to the world.

 …To think not so long ago, he was still settled on never letting others know about his amateur film productions. The second year of junior high certainly had dampened his enthusiasm over the creative process. If it wasn’t for Korosensei- if it wasn’t for becoming friends with other artists- he might have actually abandoned it all, letting this part of him rot and suffocate till he no longer felt anything toward cinema or directing. Falling into class E might have been what saved him.

 Still, nothing Mimura had ever done, even before that year, was comparable to how ambitious he has been this time. With how popular Ladybug and Black Cat were, not just on a town or prefecture level but actual national status due to the moon explosion theories making all of Japan aware of supernatural beings, any project related to them was sure to bring views. For this one-of-a-time opportunity, his work had to be flawless. He had spent days seeking the highest quality videos available on the two superheroes, pondering over and over on the music, the transitions… Even in his first year in the film research club, he never had spent so much time and effort in a single work- not for one of such a short length, at least. 

A fake trailer. By using fan footage of the akumatized fights and the TV news interviews of the town’s heroes, with some editing and a voiceover narration, making a pretend video for a movie about the miraculous holders. Especially tricky since he couldn’t go ask said holders to play out a scene for him to film. 

Boy did Mimura had felt his heart pound when he posted it online. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep without checking every five minutes if he actually posted the right thing, hadn’t made any glaring error or anything off-putting. And checking the ladybug forum for new messages and seeing the positive reactions… The excitement had kept him awake. Thankfully he posted it on Saturday afternoon and didn’t have to worry about dozing through morning classes. 

Still, this Sunday might be free of classes, but not of any event. As a sort of celebration- and partly because Mimura had put his social time aside while he worked-, the artist trio decided to hang out together at the mall and go see a movie. The boy wasn’t too sure about its potential quality, as he had very mixed feelings over the director’s previous works, but it was his first time making a horror story, and he was working with that music composer Mimura liked. 

“Hey, you guys! I didn’t make you wait too long?”

It was rare for him to be the last to arrive. Granted, whenever he went to an exhibit with Sugaya, the artist was dragging with him way too much supplies, a supplementary weight he brought ‘just in case’. God, how many times Mimura had to help him carry his stuff as they had to run away from the rain. Thankfully the boy had judged unnecessary to bring anything this time.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” Okajima replied while getting up from the bench where he was waiting. “We’ve got largely enough time before the screening. -More importantly,” Sugaya interjected, “congrats for your video! I saw this morning, it was almost at fifty thousand views? -Wow, no way, let me check.” Okajima took his phone and started to type. “Well, there are a lot of people on the Ladyblog forum…” Mimura started to answer, all kinds of excuses rushing into his head. “Right, there was a lot of positive comments, wasn’t it? You deserve it.”

Mimura really didn’t know how to reply to that, and it was even tougher knowing Sugaya was probably sincere and he couldn’t brush it off as politeness. Being praised- having an undisputable achievement- those weren’t things he was used to. Not like this. Not on that.

But it’s not like he could deny he had done something, and that something was successful. How much time one had to wait for the other shoe to drop before having to admit they did a great job?

“…Thank you.” It was hesitant, but it was a start.

Sugaya replied with a smile, one of those soft smiles where he unconsciously tilted his head on the side, which made Mimura finally relax. It was fine. Maybe he did deserve it after all.

“Hm. Guys. You need to check that.”

Okajima turned his phone toward them. A single sentence, white over a dark screen. A single, ordinary sentence, one Mimura had read plenty of times; yet seeing it brought out an uneasy feeling, which increased as Okajima explicated the obvious:

“The video had been taken down.”

--

“It wasn’t great, but it was entertaining, at least.” Okajima commented before biting on his burger.

 Despite the unpleasant news, Mimura had insisted for them to go through what they had planned. After all, they were already close to the shopping mall, and just because he would skip a movie and fast food lunch, his video wouldn’t suddenly magically reappear. He would need to look into the details of it, of course. But, later. No need to rush. It wasn’t urgent. Nothing that mattered.

“I dunno, I feel like I wasted my time. Like, the special effects are clearly the main point of the film, but they felt uninspired.” Sugaya replied while grabbing some fries.

 Plus, a movie was distracting, which was welcome at this moment. No need to act before calming down. A great film would have been better, of course, one where Mimura could get immersed and forget all about his current worries as he analyzed it. That’s what he did back when his grades started to drop. It had bordered more on denial then, actually, ignoring the problem till he was too big to ignore, and at that point it was too late. But that wasn’t the case now. Because there was nothing to ignore. Just a silly little problem.

 “Yeah, I see what you mean. Instead of showing us the creature, it would have been better to leave it in the dark, it would have been scarier.”

 The thing was, Mimura didn’t have the authorization for some of the footage he had used. He had tried to contact whoever he could, all the small intrepid reporters that happened to be on place during an akumatized fight, but he had completely forgotten to check for the TV interviews. It wouldn’t have been a problem most of the time, but maybe, for a more popular video…

“There’s that, of course, but also the music, it was fine but I felt it wasn’t used very well? They should have just cut it at some place. I don’t really know how to explain… What do you think, Mimura?”

Or was it the music? He was pretty sure it was free of rights, was he mistaken? Either way it would be able to remake the video while cutting the faulty element. It was all structured together. He couldn’t correct it.

“…Mimura? -…Sorry, what? I was thinking of something else.”

Sugaya and Okajima shared a look of concern. Oh, that was what Mimura had wanted to avoid. Concern. He wasn’t especially upset- shouldn’t be, over such a trivial matter- but with all the akuma attacks over the town, everyone was a bit on edge over any potential crisis. Still, he was annoyed his friends would think he would break down over something so unimportant. Between the school’s ostracisation, the wall he had constructed between him and his parents, and now the assassination, he had gone through much more stressful. It’s not a little annoyance over a hobby that would change things. 

“…Dude,” Okajima said, “if you want to talk, we’re here, okay? -That’s great to know.” Mimura replied in a way he hoped was casual. “But I’m fine. I was just thinking about something else, that’s all.” He immediately switched on an excuse. “My father told me to stop at the convenience store on the way to buy something, but I couldn’t remember what. I think I should try to call him now before I forget. Can you guys watch my stuff? -Sure?”

Mimura got up from his seat and took his phone from his pocket while leaving the table, barely checking to see his classmates’ reactions. Only a phone call. It was normal to go outside- well, outside the restaurant at least, he wasn’t planning to leave the mall- when calling someone.

Right, that won him a few minutes to himself. Couldn’t do more, or that would be suspicious. He still had barely touched his own meal after all.

…Sometimes it was exhausting pretending to be fine. Mimura knew his face showed his emotions easily, and he wasn’t so smooth a liar he wouldn’t slip up if someone asked him directly what was wrong; he was more the kind to redirect the subject before said question came up. All of this… it made him feel resentful against those who were concerned over him, for all the stress that added to him. Couldn’t they just ignore him and leave him sulk? But at the same time, it was his own fault for feeling bad about the situation in the first place. Why did he had to invest so much into something that didn’t matter? Why did he had to bring his hopes up when it couldn’t be any different from usual? He should know by now he wouldn’t get any recognition for his efforts. It was stupid to think otherwise.

Mimura put back his phone in his pocket and felt a piece of paper inside that he took, intrigued. Ah, right, the movie ticket. Stupid movie. So bland and so overdone, so many things that would have been easy to fix- but he didn’t have any right to talk about that as an amateur, did he? God he hated this. Why did some people get so much money to make their movies while he was stuck seeing his videos taken down for some petty authorization- it’s not like he did anything bad with it, it wasn’t a whole song nor a complete footage- why did others got away with making mediocre works and his had to be perfect and it still wasn’t enough, why wasn’t he enough, he hated this, he hated them all, he hated- 

No, he had to calm down. It wasn’t the moment. Later, in private. No, not later. Never. Getting over it. He would close his eyes, breath deeply and count to three, and then everything would be fine.

One, two, three.

When Mimura opened his eyes, a dark butterfly just entered his field of vision.

 He barely had the time to register it, to see it land on the ticket without being able to react- And then it was sudden clarity. Pure feeling. All parasite thoughts numbed down to barely a whisper.

“Static”, a foreign voice spoke into his mind- and the name felt so fitting, somehow, “I am Kochou. I can give you the power to get revenge over the unfair treatment your videos have been given. I only ask for one thing in return. -The ladybug and cat miraculous.” Mimura- no, Static- completed, a smile on his lips. 

Sentences popped into his mind, distant, the shadow of a thought process. ‘Bad idea’. ‘What will others think of you?’ But, already, those words dissolved into the resolute feeling that had taken him.

“I accept with pleasure, Kochou-sama.”

 --

Okajima looked at the entrance, his fingers tapping on the table as he waited. Not necessarily for Mimura’s return, but… something. A form of acknowledgement on how the situation was wrong. 

Okajima thought of himself as an honest man. If he liked something, he had no problem saying it, even knowing his opinion was unpopular. If he disliked something, he would complain about it with all the frustration and anger he felt- even when his classmates thought he was overreacting. He was just that kind of person. True manliness was to be totally shameless no matter the topic. That’s why dishonest situations like this one didn’t sit well with him.

“Say”, he addressed Sugaya who seemed absent-minded, “what do you think we should do? -Walk around in the mall? There’s a clothing shop I would like to see. -Not what should we do after eating,” Okajima corrected with annoyance, “about Mimura. He’s clearly not taking the video thing well, despite how he refuses to admit it. -Oh.” His classmate just replied with a small sound. “So I wasn’t just imagining things then. -Well, yeah, that was very obvious. I kinda want to force him to talk just for that, but he might just close up even more and we will go nowhere. Plus, you know. That might just add even more negative feelings to the pile.”

Sugaya stayed silent, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. His fingers idly played with his straw, twisting it as he seemed lost in thought.

“I don’t know what to do.” He finally admitted. “Neither do I,” Okajima replied, “but you know Mimura better than me. Plus, you’ve been akumatized already, so you should know how he feels. -That’s… I don’t think it can apply. I mean, I wanted to be left alone, but look at what that did for me. Do you really think Mimura could be akumatized over this? -Eh, dunno. Honestly I feel like bad luck is also at play, but it’s not like you can tell how important something is to someone, even if it seems silly. A man’s passion should never be ridiculed,” Okajima added on a serious tone. “…Wow, that would sound so cool if it wasn’t from you. -Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? -…If Mimura feel bad over this, then I want to help.” Sugaya totally ignored Okajima’s last comment. “But I never had this problem before? Like, with Chiba I trusted him to come to me if he felt like I could help him with something? -Dude, no offense but Chiba ended in class E with us and neither of us saw it coming. -Well, I did say something I could help him with, not sure what I could have done.” Sugaya sighed. “You’re not totally wrong though, I felt bad about it. -What about the other guys then? Didn’t you hang out with people of the art club sometimes? -Them? I… am not sure they counted as friends? Like, in the first place it always was way more casual, and it soured up quickly anyways. Because I’m ‘too much of a troublemaker’. -Oh, yeah, so they were this kind of guys, uh? I know what you mean. -…So, yeah, I don’t have much experience dealing with this. I want to help and I feel like there’s something I could do, but nobody is telling me what. It’s frustrating.”

Okajima wasn’t sure either what it was that they could do, but fortunately the noise of a door brutally closed and a scream stopped the conversation before he had to reply. 

“AKUMA ATTACK!!”

He turned his head toward the entry door, that an alarmed woman was closing, clearly terrified by what she saw outside.

“An akuma… Shit, Mimura’s still outside. -What, do you think he…?” Sugaya didn’t dare finish his sentence. “I don’t know if it’s him, but if it isn’t then he’s in first line to be attacked. -Crap, you’re right.”

People around them were starting to panic, some already diving under the tables, other running towards the kitchens, probably hoping to find a back door. Honestly, Okajima was tempted to follow them. He didn’t know what super villain would appear, but it certainly wasn’t going to be a fun experience.

…But, he already had made his decision.

“Let’s go,” he said to Sugaya, walking towards the entrance.

--

Hayami had to pull her nails into the palm of her hand to keep her face calm.

In front of her, on the other side of the small plastic table, Nakamura was currently playing with her nesoberi plushie’s pigtails. A Ladybug nesoberi. She wasn’t sure what was flustering her most, that her friend was so fond of her new acquisition, or the fact that it was sold at all. 

“It’s obvious,” Nakamura explained, ignorant of the girl’s inner turmoil, “if you have the blueprints and material to make nesoberi in a factory, then you’re not going to stop at fifteen. Probably, the collab with the arcade was to see how popular they would get. Man, I kinda want to see what kind of face the fans who spent so much on the game will pull learning they could just have waited a few months instead, it will probably be hilarious. -You don’t say”, Hayami replied, impassive.

How would Nakamura react if she knew Hayami was such a fan. She would probably be too busy harassing me over how I’m a Black Cat fan. The endless teasing… Thankfully she was good at keeping a cool appearance. 

At first, when the two of them had planned an afternoon at the mall together, she had thought it would just be a relaxing moment between friends. Some shopping, maybe a movie, trying out the new purikuma booth, checking out from afar that children live stage performance the mall was organizing- she vaguely remembered Chiba mentioning accompanying his sisters to see it sometimes, and it had intrigued her- just silly fun activities two teenage girls would do on their weekend. To be perfectly honest, Hayami would have tried to include some homework into that schedule, but Nakamura had loudly complained about it, and with Tikki insisting so much lately about all the work she did, she hadn’t pressed further.

 She would have never expected they would end up facing a shop window full of Ladybug and Black Cat themed goodies. It kind of baffled her sometimes, how popular was her other identity. She and her partner were just a pair of local heroes doing their job. Maybe it was the magic? Of course people would be all over something that proved the existence of the supernatural. She had seen some topics speculating on the subject on the Ladyblog, but she might have underestimated their importance. Usually people ask us more about our relationship… Well, revealing anything about the Miraculouses to the public would be a big no-no, even more than some hints about their true identities, so it made sense that interviews gave up on that.

Still, Black Cat goodies… She would have to come back there, maybe with a disguise. And to think they would end up selling that nesoberi plush… Would she have tried to win one if she knew the exclusivity would only last for a few months? Probably.

God, I really fell hard for him.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” Nakamura grinned with a face full of mischief. “Can you take a photo with my phone? I’m going to kiss my Ladybug and send it to Okajima. -Wh- I- Don’t do that!”    

Seeing her friend’s surprise, Hayami knew she made a mistake. It was uncommon for her to get excited over something, and she had tried to keep her composure the whole conversation. But, how could she stay cool over this. The idea of Nakamura kissing Ladybug- it’s not like she talked about some distant celebrity after all. And then thinking that Okajima could do the same… Now that was giving her chills. 

“My, my, seems like someone is jealous.” Nakamura playfully reacted by swinging her nesoberi in front of Hayami. “Do you want to steal a kiss? I’m willing to share~ -That’s not the problem.” Hayami replied as calmly as she could. “Oh, so perhaps you want to kiss m- -It’s unhygienic,” Hayami interrupted her, knowing very well how her friend would twist her words if she let her speak, “and you’re going to give him bad ideas. -Eh, I’m probably not the first. Heck, I bet someone among those who got the first fifteen have done it at some point.”

Hayami immediately thought about the Black Cat nesoberi in her room, and had to focus back on the conversation before having any weird ideas. She was too mature for that. She couldn’t- No, she should think of something else. Plenty of people might have kissed my effigy at some point. Yep, that sure calmed her. Oh, how she wished she never had this conversation. Popularity was terrifying sometimes.

“Akuma alert.” A voice resonated through the speakers of the mall, interrupting the girl’s inner troubles. “Our customers are invited to go walk to the nearest exit. No need to panic. We repeat- -Urg.” Nakamura’s face soured. “Goodbye, relaxing afternoon. Let’s go before we get caught up in the crowd. -I…” Hayami started to speak, while her mind was getting into a highly alert mode. She needed an excuse “We didn’t pay for our drinks, go ahead while I do it, I won’t take long. -What? Hayami, you can’t be seri- -It’s important! No need to argue, we’re only losing time. Trust me, I will leave right after. -Geez, why do you have to be serious like that… Alright, but only if you go along with me the next time I get a fun idea. -Accepted.” Hayami was certain she would regret it. “See you in a few minutes.”

She didn’t wait for an answer and went right into the shop, straight to the bathroom, while getting pushed on the way by intrigued people trying to leave. Thankfully the stall was empty; she opened her bag, from which flew a very familiar red creature. 

“It’s too bad,” Tikki lamented, “you finally had a day to relax… -No need to feel bad about it. Tikki, spots on.”

The familiar surge of power filled her body as her clothes changed for her more practical hero suit. Time to get into Ladybug mode. It wasn’t complicated, honestly. The focus, her shifting perception, the strength that filled her muscles, everything contributed to her feeling like an entirely different person. Maybe the glamour supposed to make her unrecognisable played a part too.

Still, I need to play it safe. She counted the seconds in her head, and when she felt she had waited long enough, left the shop’s bathroom. Nobody was there anymore. Good. She didn’t have time to think of excuses for anyone who might have seen the young girl enter- she had an akuma to deal with.

--

Ladybug walked around the mall, ready to react to any upcoming attack and directing any civilian she saw toward the exit, when she finally spotted an unnatural thing. In front of her stood a giant foggy pile of inconsistent color, minuscule spots of black, white and grey all mixed together; it kinda reminded her of TV static, in a way. The pile, if that was the right word for an accumulation without a specific form, didn’t seem to have any weight to it, as if it was superposed to the air rather than a solid mass, but she knew better than to touch it to verify. Who knew what it did.

She saw a black silhouette move from the corner of her vision, and, sure enough, when she turned her head her partner jumped to her side. 

“Good afternoon to you,” Black Cat greeted her, then immediately switched to the main topic. “Any information on our villain of the day? -No, I just arrived.” Ladybug informed him, hesitating to say anything more, then decided she was silly for doubting her every word. “I’m glad you could come. I was wondering if you would be able to show up before the fight. -Yeah, I wasn’t sure I would be on time either,” admitted her partner. “I was nearby, but surrounded by… well, it’s not important.”

Ladybug looked at him, but said nothing. Civilians, friends, family… Many ways to end the sentence, and none that mattered. They couldn’t talk about their true identity.

“What do we do with this?” She pointed toward the foggy obstacle with a move from her head. “Good question.”

Black Cat looked around, his eyes settling on a deserted chair from some shop on the side. Ladybug already understood what he was thinking about, and didn’t feel any surprise when he walked toward it only to throw it into the fog.

“Doesn’t seems solid, but I didn’t hear anything hit the floor. -Try to see with another chair what happens if you only put one partially? -That was the next step of my experience, yes.” Black Cat smiled at her.

Despite the situation, Ladybug couldn’t help but feel her heart warm up at the boy’s soft face. They might be in potential danger at any point, but at least she got him by her side, and he seemed to appreciate them thinking alike as much as she did. Well, maybe not as much, but at least a little? It sure made things easier for both of them.

“Hmm, it doesn’t seem to melt.” The second chair, that Black Cat put partially in the fog, still was intact when they pulled it away. “I guess it’s like smoke? Let me try putting my hand in it.” He looked at Ladybug for approval. “…It might not be safe. -All the more reason that I do it rather than you. Plus, you can always heal me afterward. -…That’s not wrong, but…” She would rather not see him get hurt, of course. Surely he could understand that? “Don’t worry, it’s just a test.” He put his left hand in the fog- it would only be silly to risk his ring hand, after all- and took it out. “See? Nothing happened. Actually, I didn’t even feel any pressure or change. It might be safe to walk in. -Even if it’s some kind of gas, it might be toxic.” Hopefully no civilian was caught in the middle of it. “Hmm.” The boy nodded, his green eyes still on the fog. “Only one way to know.”

Black Cat took a step forward, and soon his head disappeared in the smoky thing. Ladybug was uneasy about this- her partner always was the one who took risks in those situations. It was logical, of course, she was the one with the power to fix everything, and so had to be the last standing at the end, but… she didn’t have to like it. What did the boy think about it? Was he secretly resenting her for this? This didn’t seem in his personality, yet it was still a possibility.

I wonder how the previous Ladybugs felt about it.

Multiple times her and Tikki had spoken about the precedent heroes. Their powers, their strategies, their allies; most notably, how they still found time to relax and have fun. But as for their feelings… It was a subject Hayami didn’t want to bring up. Even if they were different people, it would break her heart to hear they didn’t get along with their partner. What if it was the case, and Black Cat heard about it from his own kwami? Would he assume she was the same? Even though I love him. No, it wasn’t even that. She cared about him. More than her crush, he was the partner she had come to rely on. Anyone could feel attracted to him, but their bond was special, important, in a way that would be hard to explain. If he told her he loved her, but couldn’t trust her… that would be just as terrible as the opposite.

The boy eventually got his head out of the fog, his face expecting something. 

“…So?” Ladybug asked, unsure what he was waiting for. “…Didn’t you hear me? -No? Did you say something? -Yes? That’s weird. I can breathe inside just fine, but I can’t see anything. Or hear, now that I think about it. And I guess you couldn’t hear me either? Wait, let me check again.”

Once again the hero’s head disappeared in the fog. Did that thing block all light and sound? That would be inconvenient. What if the akumatized was waiting for them insi-

“Ladybug, behind you!!!” 

It was only thanks to her quick reflexes she was able to react immediately. Her full body rotated, her hand in a fist ready to hit, but the person quickly jumped out of the way, a jump too big for a normal civilian. An akumatized. The villain made no sound when his feet hit the floor, which was, as Ladybug suddenly noticed, covered in the same foggy substance as the one behind her. So that’s how they were able to approach without me noticing, this removed the sound of their steps.

She looked around quickly on what was the source of the voice that alerted her. A very familiar voice… Barely hidden behind a pillar, she apperceived Fuwa and sighed internally. The girl had said she wanted to start investigating for the Ladyblog, and nothing Hayami had said had been able to convince her it was a bad idea.

She gently tapped Black Cat’s arm to alert him of the change in situation, as he probably hadn’t been able to hear anything, but her eyes were fixated on the villain, who didn’t move from his spot. Which was for the best, as they were closer to Fuwa if they had wanted to take her hostage.

The most noticeable thing in the akumatized’s appearance, the one that immediately popped out, was the giant color bars on the chest area of the suit. Like a malfunctioning TV, Ladybug thought despite never having seen the phenomena -it was a thing of movies, on older televisions. The rest of the costume, on the opposite, was all monochrome, mostly grey with little square spots of black and white, white the extremities of the limbs were all black.

When she finally looked at their- at his face, Ladybug finally recognized who was her adversary. No way she couldn’t- they might not talk on a regular basis, but Mimura was a classmate, and he sat next to Nakamura in class, so the both of them sometimes spoke while she was around.                         

“Another class E student,” Black Cat commented next to her. So he recognised him? Uh. He must have a good memory. “Right, it’s as if alienating and bullying a specific group made them more likely to have negative emotions.” Ladybug deadpanned as an answer. “…Seems like you feel a lot about this, uh?” Her partner replied in a sympathetic tone. “I just don’t like their school’s system.”

She couldn’t allow herself to say more. She couldn’t make it personal. Even just mentioning she was part of that school, no matter the class, would be too revealing. So Ladybug bit her lips and did what she had always done when she felt helpless about a situation: focus on the work she could do instead.

“Show’s over, you guys.” Mimura spoke to them in a harsh tone. “Hand over your Miraculous. -…Why do akumatized even ask this? Of course we won’t give them to you. -Maybe they expect us to make a special offer if they insist enough.” Black Cat joked. “’Congratulations, you’re the 100th akumatized, here’s a special prize for you!’”

Ladybug would have rolled her eyes for joking in this situation if this was anyone else, but she couldn’t help have a little smile instead. It was part of her partner’s charm to make silly jokes and puns in a serious moment. Their current adversary didn’t seem to appreciate it, though; he seemed ready to attack, whatever that would mean for him. Did he have another power besides that weird static-like fog? It was hard sometimes to tell with akumatized what skill sets did they have.

“I know where the akuma’s hidden in!” Fuwa shouted, momentarily distracting Ladybug. “It’s in his l-“

Before she finished her sentence, Mimura jumped on the heroes, filling the space between them with the static-like substance from earlier.

Then, only darkness and silence.

[squishymochisoo]

dark matter - yoon jeonghan oneshot

 sypnosis : you are a scientist specialized in space, you’ve been working on a research paper for months on dark matter and dark energy. after hitting a breakthrough, the new colleague to the department, manages to show the world his work on a research paper similar to your research idea.

characters : y/n, yoon jeonghan, lee seokmin (just a tiny bit though)

 word count :1,787 words

: surprisingly not that angsty to me?

again i know i said short break for me to study,, but i really really really wanted to write this. ok bye! hope you enjoyed it!

⭐️⭐️⭐️

“and done!” you said as you pressed the full stop key on your laptop. you smiled widely as you looked through your research paper on the effectiveness of dark matter and why dark energy is present. a research that you placed months into. you specialized in the research sector of space research, working under big bosses who served NASA. outerspace has been your interest and even hobby since your were twelve. looking at the stars, ursa major and cassiopeia being your favourite.

you felt like this has been your best work yet. it felt so surreal that you finally finished this research paper that took countless nights and coffees to finish. you glanced at the clock, 2.38 am. you sighed and closed your laptop. you felt a huge weight lift of you.

all you had to do now, was proof read and just needed to double confirm everything not wanting to make a mistake. this needed to be a mistake proof paper. you couldn’t wait to tell the world and your bosses about this.

proofreading a 87 page paper took a few days and that came with doing up a perfect model to show your bosses.

but of course. all the hours and days you put into this research goes to waste.

“omg y/n have you heard!” seokmin your close colleague comes running to your desk. you looked up from your laptop saving your research paper after finalizing the last page.

“hmm?”

“someone from our department had a breakthrough on dark matter and dark energy! the bosses loved it!” you furrowed your eyebrows. it couldn’t have been you. nobody knew of your research on dark energy and matter.

“w-who?” you stuttered, you regret asking it because you wish you could unhear everything.

“oh yoon jeonghan? he’s new! he carried forward this research when he entered our department last week!” seokmin jumped excitedly upon the new found research not noticing your sour glum face who tried to fake a smile.

of course, you couldn’t fake a smile. this was your research something that you had in the bag and you found the answers to it. but it was taken from you. it was like being robbed in bright daylight.

you were angry more than anything. pissed even. most of your work had been stolen by your over achieving, power hungry colleagues. so far three of your works prior to this has been stolen. and by stolen you literally meant stolen. that son of a bitch literally took your paper from a to z and changed the name on the cover. you just wished you had the heart to tell them off. you would punch them, if they weren’t so overpowering, and literally best friends with many of the high position bosses in your company.

it was unfair.

the one paper you were honestly so damn proud of just gone. it was fucking gone.

nobody knew your name as a scientist. not even your bosses believe you are capable of having this job. to them, you barely had any idea. and this was your shot to proof everyone wrong. but dreams are meant to be shattered right?

the news about jeonghan continues in the air for a couple of days almost two weeks when it died down. and in those two weeks, it moved to the desk right next to yours. everyone had a pit stop to his desk to chat him up or congratulate him.

honestly, you wouldn’t be this angry if he wasn’t placed next to you. you fumed with anger every time you heard the world dark energy or dark matter.

you didn’t want to be petty, because you read the paper and it was actually good and it wasn’t your work.

but you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling this way.

 ---

you always felt his stare from your left, he stares as if expecting something. you heard the rolly chair moving before light footsteps were heard. you continued staring at your laptop trying not to turn.

“ehem” you heard him cough. you rolled your eyes before turning to him, raising your eyebrows.

“hi, i know we haven’t talked at all, but since i’m your desk buddy maybe we could be friends?” he smiled and put his hand out. you stared at his hand then glancing at his face. before nodding and looking back to your laptop.

“sheesh.” you heard him mumble.

at least you didn’t roll your eyes at him and curse him. you sneered in your head.

it was the next day where, it was nearly 12 am and only the two of you decided to work late. you sighed loudly. you couldn’t seem to find a new research angle. you glanced at the stack of papers that sat by your desk for the past two weeks.

you forced a small chuckled. and threw the 87 paged research into your trash can. before grabbing your bag and going home. you felt jeonghan’s stare on you but you were too distraught to even think about it.

jeonghan walked closer to your desk when he realized that you weren’t coming back. he glanced at the trash can and slowly reached out for the paper.

“references, acknowledgements..” jeonghan mumbled under his breath as he scanned through the paper.

“wait this is a research paper, why did she throw it. crazy girl.” he shook his head. his other hand slowly digged through the trash can, grabbing what he thinks it the first paper. he stared at the paper. blinking every few seconds, not sure if he was seeing it right.

“effectiveness of dark matter and why dark energy is present in this universe.” he furrowed his eyebrows. scanning over the name on the paper. yours. seeing the date. and it was way before his breakthrough got known. her research date. well it started way before he started.

jeonghan took the whole stack of papers out and flipped through the paper reading through it.

“what that fuck? this research paper is literally perfect,” he stared at the paper, hell it was better than his.

“why didn’t she publish this?”

and at that moment, jeonghan realized why you acted and why you were distant. because if he was in your shoes, he would have done worse.

 ---

“y/n!” you heard jeonghan shout your name as you walked to the main entrance of your workplace.

you turned around and stopped for jeonghan who was running towards you. you raised your eyebrow.

“hey, i’d just like to say, i’m sorry and deserved to have published your paper. i read it last night and it was perfect. it was the most polished work I’ve ever seen.” your eyes widened. you threw that paper away you never wanted to hear of it’s existence.

“you looked through my trash?” you angrily asked. boy you never thought you could get more annoyed at him.

“i’m sorry bu-“

“but nothing, just never talk about that paper.” you mumbled and left him standing there.

the whole day you felt his stare on you. as if trying to figure you out.

a part of you wanted to talk about your paper excitedly to him and talk about the best parts in your research but you just couldn’t seem to do it.

---

the next morning when you arrived at work, you saw a cup of coffee on the table. you furrowed your eyes from your peripheral vision seeing jeonghan slightly turning his head towards your table.

you sat down, face still stoic and took a sip of coffee.

this happened the next day.

and the next.

and the next.

and the next.

and finally, you cracked. you glanced at the coffee at your table and turned to jeonghan smiling lightly at him.

and that’s how jeonghan figured you opened up to him.

weeks past and you were usually with him during work hours, talking and sometimes even making jokes.

you realized that he was actually a sweet little being that everyone needs to love. you recognized his for his talents in his work and he can sing. like woah.

---

it wasn’t weird for the both of you to over time on your work and work late on research. but it was different today. he turned to you softly calling out your name that made your heart slightly skip a beat.

“why aren’t you recognized for your talent?” his soft gaze on you awaiting an answer.

“i don’t know.” you mumbled. he scoffed.

“i’ve seen your work and the amount of research put into it. it’s amazing. why are the others always doubting your skill?”

you swallowed.

“well,” you told him about your research and how it gets stolen. you tell yourself that it comes with the job. sometimes things come and go.

“you worked on the vectorial gravitation paper? and the paper about dark matter and how relates to the big bang? that was my favourite paper! that basically inspired me to do my paper!”

“well i’m glad i indirectly inspired you.” you smiled sadly.

“but they stole your work? word for word? what the fuc-“ jeonghan stood eyes filled with anger.

“what kind of scientists are they!” you shrugged.

“you can’t let them do that!”

“they already did. do you think the boss would believe me if i told him? i’m just a employee that can’t even do here work right! i’ve thought about this for countless of hours, and all the outcomes i could think off gets me fired! i love this job. i love the research and love everything about this job. i would never give it up especially it means to let someone steal my work.”

“but getting your work known is one of the best parts. that’s the scientist dream.” jeonghan intercepted.

“i know.” you whispered.

---

the next day you felt empty. it was as if you ranting to jeonghan only brought back up memories that you wanted to forget to badly. you just wanted to move on with your life. something you wished you could do.

you trudged to your table where a coffee resided. that made you crack a tiny smile. however, there was a manila folder than resided beside your coffee. you reached out for the folder flipping it open.

the title was ‘why the big rip is going to happen and why’. you furrowed your eyebrows, you weren’t doing a research on the big rip, it was way beyond what you thought you could achieve. you continued flipping through the pages. there were only two sheets of paper and there was a small explanation on the big rip theory. as you turned the page a neon yellow post it caught your eye.

 work this research with me? 😊