#then she wonders why i spend most my non working days completely distracting myself and dissociating. almost like i dont wanna be here hmmm

[docsdarling]

why does it seem every time it's an important f/o's birthday my family goes out of their way to make me feel the most miserable, awful possible ( they do 99% of the days I am just complaining rn because I want to do something for Jack but absolutely will not finish it tonight now 👍👍 )

[imagineaworlds]

Rules & Roses

“you’re late”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual​

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing, mention of death. Pretty sure that’s it.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Non-binary!Reader x Emily Prentiss (poly triad)

Word Count: 2046

“You’re late,” I said to him while grinning. He shook his head, trying to stop himself from laughing so that he could focus on running up to me.

Aaron Christopher Hotchner was his name. Though I had learned a lot about him since we officially started talking on that cold Tuesday morning, I still thought of him as that six foot Nordic God. He hated that nickname, though. No matter how many times I used it, he never gave in, but I liked teasing him with it. Only two weeks had passed since we first started talking, and yet it seemed like we knew each other a lifetime. More than that, actually. My worries of talking to a stranger faded quickly the more we passed each other on the trail, then would chat as we walked to our cars. It was a nice, unspoken ritual we had. But it always started like this. No matter if it was warm or cold, sunny or cloudy, busy or quiet, we met at that park bench at the top of the U-turn. Usually, we ran beside each other, or he would be waiting up for me. This time, I was waiting on him. That wasn’t usual.

“How am I late?” he asked.

I looked at my watch. “It’s 7:17.”

“So?”

“You never reach the bench later than 7:15.”

Aaron smiled and put his hands on his hips to help him catch his breath. “Who’s stalking who now?”

“I never said you stalked me. Those are your own words.”

“Ha. Ha.” He panted for another second. “My son woke up late, so I got here late.”

I froze. During our little conversations here and there, he had never once mentioned anything about having a family. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, he seemed more than happy to flirt with me, and he never, ever said anything about having a son. This whole time, I thought he was an available man. I would have never flirted with him if I knew that he was taken, that he had other promises and responsibilities besides meeting me, practically a stranger, in the park every morning. Of course someone like him would have been snatched up by someone else. Of course the one person I saw myself potentially getting involved with since moving to D.C. was the one person I couldn’t have. My fucking luck, right? I was so stupid. How did I not see it before? Why did I get involved in all of this in the first place? I promised myself I wouldn’t talk to a stranger, and I broke that promise for him. I promised that I wouldn’t let my desperate urge for sex and love blind my ability to read social queues and dictate what was good and bad for me— and I fucking broke that promise. I saw him— I felt his hands on my hips— and everything I had learned from past experiences flew out the window. For a moment, for a blissful, wonderful moment, I forgot about Lauren because I had all of my focus on the Nordic God. A Nordic God that was taken. How fucking ridiculous.

Aaron sat down next to me. I scooted away, and he immediately noticed. A couple of days ago, I asked him what his job was at the FBI, and he told me that he studied the behavior of serial killers in order to find them. When he cracked a joke that his ability to “profile” serial killers was a curse that affected every aspect of his life, I asked him if he could profile me. Profiling was putting together all of the behaviors he spotted in someone in order to tell what kind of person they were, are, and could potentially be. Aaron laughed. He said that he had already profiled me the day we met. “Your eyes were on my friend the entire time,” he said. “Her name’s Emily, by the way.” So, that had confirmed that it wasn’t Lauren I saw. Though I was somewhat relieved, I was also disappointed, and Aaron noticed. He asked me why I was staring at her, and I simply dodged a real answer by telling him that I thought she was someone else. His profiling skills seemed to tell him I was lying. Despite the fact that he knew I wasn’t telling the truth, he didn’t pry. He never did. When I moved away from him on the bench, however, and he noticed, that was the first time I ever heard him get serious with me.

“What is it?” he asked me quietly and sincerely. I shook my head. “Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“Why…” I hesitated for a beat. “Why would you keep flirting with me if—”

“My wife died years ago, Y/N. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

If I wasn’t embarrassed before, I was as red as a fucking tomato, and this time for all the wrong reasons. Originally, I had simply assumed that him having a son meant that he was still with someone. My first mistake. Then, I thought that it all meant that he didn’t like me, that he had been stringing me around for no reason, that maybe I was seeing between the lines. My second mistake. Now, I was embarrassed because I had made a complete fool of myself by tensing up at the thought of him having a kid— something I really didn’t mind, actually— and then I admitted that I thought he was flirting, all while practically pushing him away. I fucked this all up. Why was it that he made me trip over my tongue like this? I mean, he was always in my head since that first day we met and I felt his hands on my hips; and I found myself wanting to spend more time with him and impressing him. All of that had just been flushed down the drain. Any chance I had to keep being this happy and distracted had just disappeared because I had been stupid.

“I’m sorry.” I did a lot of compulsive apologizing around him. Because he made me trip over my own tongue, I always happened to say the wrong thing, so I constantly needed to apologize, which I could tell he found adorable, but I found it to be humiliating. “I didn’t mean to force that out of you.”

“It’s okay. It’s been so long, and I’ve had to tell so many people; I’m neutral about it these days.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“If you say sorry one more time, I’m going to start feeling bad.”

“Sorr—” I caught myself before laughing. “That’s going to be a bad habit to break.”

“All habits are hard to break.” He shrugged, leaned back, and looked forward to make the feeling between us casual again. “New rule, no more apologizing.”

Part of getting to know each other was making rules in order to make ourselves comfortable. I didn’t pry about his work, he didn’t ask me any more about his friend Emily. I didn’t stare below his belt (a personal rule I made for myself that I never disclosed to him), and he didn’t stare too long at my breasts when I would wear a low cut or tight shirt (a rule he made for himself that went unsaid). The rules would come up occasionally, but only when we were sitting on that park bench surrounded by roses. The parking lot, however, was fair game. Because that was the last time we would get to see each other until the next day, which was never guaranteed since he traveled so much— just like Lauren always did— we both got to break our staring rules until we would get into our separate cars. This new rule about apologizing didn’t seem like just a roses rule, though. If I had to guess, Aaron was going to keep an eye on me to make sure I wouldn’t  break this new rule.

I nodded. “Okay, fine. But, no more being late,” I said. He also nodded. “And, I need a 6AM warning every time you won’t be here.”

Aaron looked at me. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Phone,” I demanded while holding out my hand. Aaron urgently dug into his pocket, racing to grab his phone before I could change my mind about giving him my number. He was too chicken shit to ask for it, so I didn’t mind taking that first step for him. Afterall, it was the most I could do since I totally messed up by getting uptight about his son. Speaking of which, when I turned Aaron’s phone on, I saw a picture of him holding his son, both of them smiling ear to ear after what looked like a victory after one of his son’s soccer games. I felt myself melting. “He’s adorable.” He had blonde hair, which wasn’t like his dad at all, but the brown eyes, lips, and nose were all a mirror image of Aaron.

“His name’s Jack.”

“How old is he?”

“Nine.”

I smiled at him before looking back down to unlock his phone and put my information into the Contacts app. When I was done, I turned it off and handed it back to him. “There. Now you can text me at 6AM every time you know you’re not going to be here.”

“And what about… other than 6AM?” He was biting his lip again. I always knew that he was flirting with me when he would bite his lip like that. He was the professional profiler, yet he couldn’t have been more obvious. One would think that he knew how to hide his tells better than that, but he really seemed to suck at it. “Can I call you tonight, maybe?”

“For what?”

He hadn’t anticipated that I would nudge him back with a question. “I—” He didn’t know what to say. I giggled. “Is it too late to take my rule back so that I can say sorry for being too forward?”

“Yeah. It is. Sometimes it’s okay to be forward.” I stood from the bench, giving him the idea that it was time to go. He stood, too, taking my lead because he seemed like a lost puppy that needed to be told what to do. “I get off work at seven. You can call me for whatever it is you have on your mind any time after that.” I jumped on my toes to warm myself up, also testing to see just how long he could keep his eyes on mine and not one any other part of me that was a little more… distracting. “I’ll race you to the parking lot.”

“What happens if you win?”

“Who said there needs to be prizes?”

“The new rule I just made,” he said like it was a tease.

I squinted at him. “You can’t just make rules up for your benefit, Aaron.”

“Well, if you win, Y/N, I’ll stop making up random rules.”

“And if you win?”

I saw his answer coming from a mile away, but I still felt myself smiling when he said, “I take you out for dinner after our call tonight.”

“Deal.”

Aaron wasn’t prepared at all yet, but that didn’t stop me from beginning my dash down the path. Though I was inevitably going to let him win, I still had to put up somewhat of a fight to make his win believable. Aaron seemed to notice immediately. Before I could make it very far, he was already speeding past me, intent on winning so  that he could take me to dinner. Dummy. I wasn’t trying very hard to win. He didn’t seem to notice, though,even as we reached the parking lot where he claimed his victory. He slowed to a stop. As I caught up, he turned around and smiled.

“You’re late,” he teased me.

I rolled my eyes. “Pick me up at eight.” I immediately started making my way towards my car, which gave Aaron the chance to break his rule so that he could stare at me for a little longer than he was supposed to. “And don’t be late!” I called back to him.

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

criminal minds family: @peggy1999​ @gorgeousdarkangel​  @alex--awesome--22​ @oceaneblu​ @brithedemonspawn​ @absolutemarveltrash​ @bshelley322​

[melacka]

A Blacklist Secret Santa

Sending out the very best wishes for a wonderful festive season to @reddingtonsplace. I am your Blacklist Secret Santa and I offer you a brand new Lizzington fic which I sincerely hope you enjoy. It’s chock full of flirting, Christmas-related fluff and an eventful undercover operation.

Thanks, as always, to the organisers of this event. I look forward to it every year and really appreciate the effort you put in to facilitate so much great new content.

Now, on with the story!

Title: Precious Time by Melacka

Rating: T (for suggestive comments only)

Word Count: 2210

Summary: Red had been so wired after their little undercover jaunt that when he returned to the safe house he couldn’t think of anything but Lizzy. He knew that if he left her to her own devices at this critical juncture, the most likely outcome was that she would turn herself inside out trying to rationalise her actions and then seek to distance herself. He couldn’t allow that to happen, not this time.

Or, after an untimely interruption halts an intimate moment undercover, Red seeks Liz out to talk it over.

You can read it on AO3 here or keep reading below.

Liz took a careful sip of her champagne and tried to focus on what the man sitting next to her was saying. Unfortunately, she was having some trouble concentrating. She couldn’t remember his name, or why he was sitting next to her, or what information she was trying to extract from him. Unfortunately, she was also having trouble remembering what name she was supposed to be using or what her cover was. When she’d agreed to go undercover with Red at this event, she hadn’t anticipated that he would introduce her as his wife or that he would spend most of the night touching her. When they were dancing, he pulled her close into him and encouraged her to lean against his shoulder, claiming that it would help her not to think too much about the steps and just enjoy the dance. He was right, of course, which Liz chose to keep to herself. When he introduced her to various people, he managed to keep in touch with some part of her body at all times. And now, he had one arm draped over the back of her chair and his fingers were tracing gentle patterns on her back. It had been like that all evening. It was nothing inappropriate, of course, but it was so deliberate, so casually intimate, that even she was starting to believe that they were lovers.

If only, she thought and then shook her head slightly. Get a grip, Liz.

“You disagree, Clarice?” her mystery man said, sounding surprised.

Liz snapped her attention back to her conversation partner and favoured him with a wide smile. She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

“Oh, not at all!” Liz said breezily, trying to cover her confusion with charm. “I don’t know how anyone could disagree!”

“Quite right,” Red murmured from her other side. “Clarice, my dear, may I borrow you for a moment?”

“Of course, Raymond,” Liz said demurely. “Would you excuse us?”

Red stood and offered her his arm. She placed her hand on his elbow and remained close by his side as they exited the room.

“You seem distracted this evening,” Red murmured, when they were far enough away from the other guests to speak in relative privacy. “Anything I can help with?”

“Yes,” Liz sighed, “remind me who I’m talking to again.”

“That gentleman is Jackson Nicholls, useful for his connections but otherwise uninteresting. He’s a small fish in a rather large pond, Lizzy, you don’t need to worry if you find his conversation less than scintillating.”

“Oh, thank God.” Liz threw a glance over her shoulder and then steered Red further away from the crowd. “By the way,” she said, turning to look at him with an eyebrow raised. “Clarice?”

“You don’t like it?” he asked innocently. “I thought that it was curiously appropriate.”

“Appropriate?” Liz scoffed. “Do me a favour and never ever tell me your reasoning for that.”

“Are you feeling alright, Lizzy?” Red asked, caught somewhere between amusement and concern. “You’ve been distracted all night and now you’re telling me not to explain myself.”

Liz laughed softly and reached a hand up to adjust his bowtie. It was perfectly straight, of course, she was just wound so tight that she felt the need for some kind of contact.

“I’m fine, Raymond.”

“You’ve been calling me Raymond an awful lot this evening.”

“Is there something else you’d like me to call you, Raymond?” she said playfully.

“Not at all,” he replied quickly, pulling her in a fraction closer. “I like to hear you say it.”

“What a coincidence.”

“Coincidence?”

“Oh yes,” Liz said, slipping her hands around his waist and smiling when his eyes widened. “I’ve found that I quite like saying it, as well. It has a certain ring to it, wouldn’t you agree? And there’s just something so pleasurable about the way it feels in my mouth.”

Red gaped and Liz felt a little flutter in her stomach at her daring.

“Lizzy—”

“Raymond,” she purred as she hugged him tightly. “Raymond.” She lifted her face to his. “Raymond.”

“Raymond!” a voice called out jovially and Liz froze. “There you two are! Sneaking off at a party like a couple of teenagers, I don’t know what’s gotten into you!”

Red sent an irritated glare towards the intruder but otherwise didn’t move. Liz recognised him as one of the men who worked for their host and had a sudden thrill of fear that they had been found out.

“Although, with a beautiful woman like that on offer, I can’t say I blame you. Clarice, isn’t it? A pleasure to meet you.”

“Isaac,” Red said gruffly. “Was there something you needed?”

“I’m sorry, have I interrupted something important?”

Liz only just managed to stop herself from shouting out that yes, he had very much interrupted something important.

“You don’t sound especially worried by your interruption, Isaac,” Red said smoothly. “And you still haven’t given the reason for it.”

“Dinner is almost ready to be served,” Isaac continued, still staring avidly at Liz. “Your absence was a point of some concern for our host.”

“Naturally.” Red sounded annoyed but when he turned his attention back to Liz, his tone was considerably softer. “Sweetheart, are you ready to re-join the party?”

“Of course, darling,” Liz murmured, pressing a teasing kiss to his neck, chuckling at the shiver that passed through him at the contact. “Anything you want.”

Red closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers briefly before he pulled away and gestured for her to precede him out of the room.

“You lucky dog!” Isaac cried, slapping Red on the back as he passed.

Red looked murderous, Liz just smiled and walked away.

Early the next morning, Raymond Reddington held his breath as he watched Liz enter the small café. She scanned the room quickly as she unwound the scarf from her neck and unbuttoned her coat. She froze when she noticed him, and it would have been comical if Red didn’t have so much riding on this meeting. He relaxed somewhat when he saw the slight softening around her lips, barely the hint of a smile, but Red was prepared to take what he could get.

He’d barely slept at all the night before and he'd already had two cups of coffee this morning to compensate. He’d been so wired after their little undercover jaunt that when he returned to the safe house he couldn’t think of anything but Lizzy. They hadn’t uncovered any useful intel about the Blacklister they were chasing, but their evening left Red with so much to consider. So many possibilities seemed to open up before him, but he felt like he needed to move fast before Lizzy slammed the door in his face. He knew that if he left her to her own devices at this critical juncture, the most likely outcome was that she would turn herself inside out trying to rationalise her actions and then seek to distance herself. He couldn’t allow that to happen, not this time.

He tried to regulate his breathing as Liz wove her way through the tables and chairs towards where he sat alone. He summoned his best carefree smile as she came to a stop directly in front of him.

“Lizzy, fancy meeting you here!”

Liz raised an eyebrow at him but otherwise remained impassive as she spoke.

“Considering the fact that I live just around the corner from this place, I’d say that it’s far more likely that I’ll be here than you, Red.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that! This is fast becoming one of my favourite haunts.”

“Really?” Liz said dryly, her eyes flicking quickly to his lips before she raised them to glance carelessly around the room. “I guess it’s time for me to find a new local, then.”

“You wound me, Lizzy,” Red sighed dramatically, and Liz grinned. “Care to join me? They have some rather delicious looking items on their menu.”

“Well—” Liz began, looking hesitant. “It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to see you today. It’s supposed to be my day off.”

“I’m not here to work,” Red said calmly. “This is purely a social visit, I assure you.”

She hesitated for a moment more before she shrugged and pulled out the chair across from him, draping her coat carefully over the back.

“Well, now that we’re both here, we may as well make the most of it.”

“Exactly! Let us make the most of our opportunities before they completely pass us by.”

Liz shot him a suspicious look but merely said, “Are you sure I’m not going to be disturbing your plans by joining you?”

“I am, as you know, a very busy man, Lizzy.” Liz snorted at this but Red continued speaking unperturbed, “But your company is always welcome.”

“What a relief,” she said dryly as she reached over to steal the menu from under his hand.

“Looking to try something new, Lizzy?”

“Hmm,” she said, sounding non-committal. “I’ve been thinking that it’s about time for some pretty drastic change in my life. May as well start with my breakfast order.”

“That’s awfully philosophical of you for so early in the day.”

“I can manage it occasionally. What are you getting?”

“I was thinking of getting a range of options,” Red said, watching her face carefully to gauge her reaction. “Perhaps we could share.”

“Sounds great,” Liz said immediately. “Just make sure none of the options are pancakes.”

“Your drastic change doesn’t reach to pancakes?”

“Ugh, no!” Liz said, laughing a little even as she sounded indignant. “The change that needs to come is for the things I can actually stomach. I’m not looking to punish myself by introducing pancakes to my diet.”

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that you’re not seeking to punish yourself,” Red said quietly as he gestured to the waitress.

Liz watched him in silence as he seemed to order at least three quarters of the menu. His enthusiasm made her smile, and she hadn’t quite managed to subdue it before he looked up at her again.

“Something amusing?” he asked lightly.

“Many things,” she said vaguely. “I was just admiring your enthusiasm, though we may need to move to a bigger table to fit all that food. Just how long are you planning to sit here? It’ll take a few hours to work your way through it all, won’t it?”

“I am always in favour of a leisurely breakfast. When the food is good, the day is fine and the company delightful, what more could I need?”

“Speaking of need,” Liz began slowly.

“Oh, you do intrigue me, Lizzy,” Red interrupted her smoothly. “Do tell.”

“I’ve been trying to decide what to get you for Christmas, actually,” Liz said in a rush. “And I was trying to think if there was anything you needed.”

“Lizzy!” Red cried, delighted. “How kind of you to think of me, but you must know that it is completely unnecessary.”

“It may not be necessary, but I’d still like to get you something,” Liz said quietly, fingering the tablecloth in front of her and avoiding his eyes. “But what could I possibly give you that you haven’t already got?”

“Are you looking for suggestions, Lizzy?” A wicked grin spread across his face as he continued, “I can think of a few things.”

“Oh?” she prompted, looking wary. “Such as?”

“Well, I’ve always preferred the personal touch when it comes to gifts. I can, of course, obtain any material object I desire with very little difficulty, but something a little more personal, Lizzy?” He leaned back in his chair and sighed wistfully. “Priceless.”

“The personal touch, huh?” Liz said, eyeing him speculatively. “And just what kind of personal touch would you appreciate?”

Red dearly wanted to tell her that any personal touch from her would be like water to a dying man but thought that she may not appreciate such a sentiment so early in the day. At least, not until she’d had some coffee and something to eat.

“There is nothing more precious than time,” he said instead.

“Time?” Liz echoed, sounding unconvinced. “You just want—”

“Quality time, Elizabeth. No subterfuge, no Blacklisters, no distractions.”

Liz bit her lip as she searched his face eagerly. After a tense moment of silence, a broad smile spread across her face.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” Liz said again. “Let’s spend some time together, for Christmas.”

The waitress chose that moment to bring the first of their many dishes to the table, so Red was able to take a moment to compose himself.

“Well, Lizzy, that sounds wonderful,” he said eventually, managing to keep his voice almost entirely steady. “I hope you will allow me to get you a Christmas gift as well.”

“The gift of time not enough for you?” Liz teased.

“Lizzy, it’s very tiresome when you use my words against me like that.”

“Is it? Well, I’m sure we’ll think of something you can give me, Red.”

“Lizzy—”

“Raymond,” Liz said. “Just eat your breakfast. We’re going to be here for hours as it is.”

Red smiled and raised his coffee cup to her in a toast.

“Precious time, Lizzy, it’s all the better for being spent with you.”

[lupins-sweater]

I’m Sorry

(Percy Weasley x Reader)

Summary: Percy wants to have a second chance after the war. Do you?

Warnings: verrrry angsty, first time writing angst, so it kinda sucks

I’m going to try something a little different and do some angst

You weren’t quite sure when he changed, but one day you looked up, and he was a completely different person. Sure he could be a little intense. But he wasn’t a prick. Once he finished prefect duty, he would bring you treats from the kitchen and a kiss goodnight. Sometimes you could even talk the avid rule follower to bend some rules because he wanted to make you happy. As simple as that. If you were caught out past curfew or skipping a class, Percy would let it slide (although you would get the “I love you, but there’s going to be a time when I can’t cover for you.”

You enjoyed gifting him the fanciest quills and the biggest pumpkin pasties every time he accomplished something. You were so proud of him; calling Percy Weasley your boyfriend gave you joy. Under that hard exterior was someone who was very loving and gentle. Or at least you thought.

After you had graduated Hogwarts, you and Percy moved into a small flat in Diagon Alley. Even though it was rather small, it was home to you. You quickly decorated the shared abode with squishy arm chairs and a couch. The flat was fairly clean and a wonderful home to transition from school.

Percy proposed not too long after the announcement of receiving the position at the Ministry. He claimed the money would help significantly with the wedding cost and maybe with starting a family. But you both weren’t expecting to bring children into your life for another couple of years; you agreed you were too young, and you wanted to focus on your careers first. You were training to become a healer, and Percy wanted a stable job that wasn’t an assistant.

At first you thought he was just tired or stressed from working with Crouch. I mean who wouldn’t, right? He would come home and not be in the mood to talk. Even on his days off, he was working on assignments and didn’t want to be disturbed. It was like he didn’t have time for cuddle night anymore. You hoped this was just a rough spot in your relationship; every couple goes through them. But as the bad days turned into bad weeks and into bad months, you grew out of sync with your partner. Every time you tried to discuss his sudden change of behavior, it was always, “ Not now, Y/N. I’m busy,” or “Maybe tomorrow.”

You turned to his family for guidance after a month and a half of being ignored. The twins said it was just normal Percy behavior. He probably was upset about cauldron thickness again. But Molly and Arthur could tell something was wrong. You briefly explained the situation, and they knew just as much as you did. Percy apparated to his childhood home after he noticed you weren’t at the flat, a scowl on his face. Anger brewed at the surface.

So here you were. At the burrow watching the fight between you fiancé and his father unfold. You stood behind the doorframe leading into the living room.

“Percy, what’s going on? Y/N came over here and told us you’ve been distant,” Arthur inquired, concerned for his son’s future marriage.

“Our relationship is none of your business!” Percy shouted.

Molly rushed into the room furious. “Don’t talk to your father like that! He’s trying to help you!”

“Well it doesn’t help he’s not the best role model.”

You entered the room with watery eyes. “Percy, please stop. I just want to know what’s bothering you.”

He looks at you and struggles to find the right words. “You know what’s wrong? The fact that I have to deal with a lousy reputation at the Ministry because my father’s strange obsession with muggles! I’m being poked fun at all the time! I’m told I’m just going to end up like you,” he pointed to Arthur. “A person with little to no ambition. You want to stay in your low paying job dealing with muggles. That’s the reason why we’re so poor! Don’t you feel feel awful that your children can’t afford robes for school?” Percy’s voice crescendoed into a scream. His words could be heard throughout the house.

You and your future parent in-laws stood there in shock. This wasn’t like Percy at all.

“How long? How long have you been feeling like this?” you asked barely above a whisper.

“I’ve been made fun of because I’m a Weasley in school, but I thought I would prove myself once I got out. But once I started working at the Ministry, I was met with the same comments I heard before I graduated. I don’t want my future family to have the same experience.”

“I- I’m sorry my job has affected you like that,” Arthur apologized, “I had no idea.”

Molly put a hand on her husband’s arm. “Percival Ignatius Weasley. You do NOT talk to your father that way. He has been working hard your entire life and longer to provide for this family! And he’s doing what he loves despite all the jeers he gets from his coworkers. I would say he’s ambitious.”

“It’s not just that, Mum. Crouch and others high up have been telling me Dumbledore is making up You-Know-Who is back to make the Ministry look bad. And you’ve been helping him spread this rumor! They’re starting to question my loyalty!” Percy was upset again.

“But they should listen to Dumbledore. Harry is warning us, and if we don’t do anything now, it will be too late. We can’t wait for the Ministry to sound the alarm after the death eaters start terrorizing again,” his father defended himself.

“We can’t ‘sound the alarms’ just because he believes every word Potter says! His claim is rubbish. There’s no evidence!”

“Why would they not believe Harry? He can hear Voldemort talking to him; he has visions, Perce,” you interjected.

He stormed over to you and grabbed your hand. Before he apparated you back to the flat, he turned to his parents and his face softened. “Please stop associating with Dumbledore. I can’t be around people who are against the Ministry.”

“You know we can’t do that,” Arthur said in an apologetic tone. He crosses his arms and shook his head.

“Fine.”

You made it home, Percy still holding your hand. The floorboards were more interesting than your teary eyes. You finally cleared your throat and tried to find a place to start. “I think...you were a little harsh on your father.” you said choosing your words carefully.

“But he’s put me through so much. I can’t take the way people judge me based on my father’s choices.”

“Perce, he hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s just the way people view muggles. They’re obsessed with how pure their blood is, and condemn Arthur for being passionate about non magical people just because he’s “pure blood.””

“But he could have chosen any other job! He could have been in a higher office, but he chose this!”

“I mean this in the beat way possible, so you can hopefully change your mindset. You’re being disgusting and selfish. It’s not like you to be concerned with someone’s blood status,” you put your hands on his arms and shook him lightly.

He scoffed and tore himself from your grasp. “Disgusting? Selfish? In the best way possible? If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you’ve been spending too much time with my parents. Oh. And why did you go to them and talk about our relationship?”

You flinched at the harshness in his voice. “I’m sorry. I should have used better words, but I hate thinking you dislike your father because some of your coworkers think they’re better than them. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told your parents about our problems, but I didn’t know who else to go to?”

Percy took off into the bedroom and paced in front of the bed. “Maybe your fiancé?”

You threw your arms up in frustration. “Percy, I tried! Every time I wanted to talk about what’s bothering you, you always brushed me off. If you won’t talk about it, who will?”

“Do you really believe in what Dumbledore is saying? About You-Know-Who?” He asks, changing the subject.

“Of course. Why would he try to make the Ministry look bad?”

Percy pulled a trunk out from the closet and started to fill it with clothes. “Percy! Wh-what are doing?”

“I can’t let anyone know my fiancée supports Dumbledore. I think we need a break.”

A sob escaped your lips as you realised he was leaving you. “Please. Can I do anything to make you stay? I don’t want you to leave,” you begged.

He locked the trunk and walked toward the door. Percy stopped in front of you with a pained look on his face. His voice sounded like he was trying not to cry, “Come find me when you’ve stopped being around Dumbledore’s supporters. They’re bad influences.” And he left.

——

You couldn’t afford the rent of the small flat, so you sent a letter to the Weasleys asking for a place to stay. They kindly let you take Percy’s old room where you spent most of your nights crying. Wondering why your fiancé left you. Wasn’t he the guy all those years ago who helped carry your books to class? Didn’t he get down on one knee and promise he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you? It didn’t make sense why he would sever his ties with his family.

Molly tried to go talk some sense into him and tell him you missed him, but he shut the door as soon as she opened her mouth to speak. Not long after that his Christmas sweaters arrived by owl without a letter explaining why he sent them back.

Everyone was upset by his actions. You constantly had to reassure his parents it wasn’t their fault. Arthur’s job isn’t something he should be ashamed of; pure blood families are obsessed with their status, and will bully everyone who doesn’t share the same values and beliefs. Molly didn’t do anything wrong; she was standing up for her husband which she’s done hundreds of times. The red head family also helped you process your break in the relationship. They were always there to distract yourself or give you much needed advice.

The days blurred together as you started to work long shifts at St. Mungo’s as a healer, finally completing your training. A lot happened in the following months: Hogwarts was back in session, Arthur was injured, the war was about to start, and you and Ron received letters from Percy. Nothing good came from the neat scrawl on the fancy parchment. Ron was told to stop hanging out with Harry as “he’s a bad influence,” and your engagement was called off since it’s been months since you’ve talked.

You agreed with him on that point. What’s the use of being engaged to a man that doesn’t want to be associated with your views? You distracted yourself from the pain by preparing for the battle at Hogwarts with The Order. You taught everyone basic healing spells and what to do in certain medical emergencies.

——

The night before the battle you were sitting on your bed, knees pulled into your chest, as you contemplated the danger of what’s to come. You couldn’t sleep, too anxious for tomorrow. Everyone went to their rooms for the night no doubt in the same position you were in. A knock at the window startled you. You whipped your head to see a large owl holding a letter addressed to you in its claws.

You got up from you bed and open the window. You recognised the neat, loopy writing immediately. Percy. You didn’t exactly want to read what was inside; he already said he didn’t want to marry you anymore. What else does he want to tell you?

You reluctantly tore the letter open and began to read.

Y/N,

I am so sorry. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you. I shouldn’t have left you because those at the Ministry wouldn’t approve of your views. It was wrong of me to let my coworkers cloud my views of my family, the love of my life, and my father. Although it’s not an excuse for my behavior, I snapped after hearing people talk poorly of my loved ones constantly at school and work. I can’t believe I let it get the better of me. I plan to talk to my family tomorrow before the war. I want to talk to them before anything happens. I don’t know what I’ll do if I won’t get to fight by their side. Merlin, Y/N, I still love you. I miss you so much, and I know I’ve hurt you. If you’d like, here’s the address to come see me. It’s understandable if you don’t want to.

Sincerely and with love, Percy

You read the letter over and over not quite sure if you were happy or not. He’s said some awful things to you and his family, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to forget that. And he still loved you. Gosh you loved him too, but you didn’t want to become engaged again. You still had a lot to think about.

You decided you were going to see him after all. Who knows, this could be your last night alive. You wrote a quick note to the Weasleys explaining where you were going and left the letter there for them to read.

——

The flat in London was fairly nice. It no doubt cost a pretty galleon. You walked up the steps to the brass knocker on the door that read “112 A” and knocked. The door opened less than a minute later, and a shocked red head stood before you.

“Y/N. You actually showed up,” he breathed and motioned for you to enter the flat. 

You stepped through the doorway to find a well lit apartment; beautiful yet simple furniture was placed throughout the room. 

“Looks nice in here,” you complimented, not sure where to start.  

“Thanks. It’s not the homely as our home on Diagon Alley.” He cleared his throat. “I heard you’re living with the rest of my family. At the Burrow I mean.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t keep up with the rent.”

Percy looked at you with a look that showed he felt awful for letting that happen. 

“I understand why you felt like you had to prove you were loyal to the Ministry, but cutting off your family? Calling off your engagement?! Percy I loved you!” You were now sobbing in front of the man who was your fiance. He really wants to pull you in for a hug, but he knew you were furious. 

“I loved you, too. It was wrong and disgusting of me to disown my family. I still love you. If you don’t want to be with me anymore, that’s fine.”

You wiped your tears and waited until you could speak again without sobbing again. “I want to be with you again, too. But I’m not sure if that’s the best idea, Perce. It’s been months since we’ve spoken. And you said some pretty awful things.”

Percy looked away and tried not to cry. He messed up big time, and there’s nothing he can do to reverse the damage. 

“I know,” he whispered. 

“I’m going to need time to rethink everything.”

He nodded as a response, looking down at his feet. You walked up to him and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. 

“Can you please stay the night? I just need someone to hold before tomorrow.”

You nodded a yes as you wished for the same thing. You needed comfort, and this took you back to a time where all you had to worry about was a potions test. Who knew what tomorrow could bring?

[tanoraqui]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[now all on AO3!]

Nie Huaisang wakes up from his overexertion-induced sleep after about 14 hours, and about 24 hours before his brother wakes up. He has this time to think

He doesn’t use it to think, because his brother is still unconscious, comatose from a severe qi deviation. Chief Physician Nie Fengji, Wen Qing, Wen Qing’s Uncle Six, and assorted Nie physicians do obscure medical things to him involving spiritual energy, needles, a dash of surgery, and actually more of the poison that nearly killed him, in what Nie Huaisang can only assume is some sort of physician-approved hair of the dog scheme, and Nie Huaisang participates by sitting quietly in the corner until even that is deemed too in-the-way and he’s banished first to the hallway and then, with physician authority, to his own bed

they do search, and find some of the yin-storing grass hidden in Wen Ning’s pillow. Nie Huaisang doesn’t go to bed; he goes down to the third guest room and takes A-Yuan and Granny out for a walk just long enough for a couple disciples to beat Wen Ning enough to look good later - split lip and bruises, etc. In case anyone comes checking the story he gave Jin Qixian

Wen Ning, he hears, bears it with aplomb. Just in case it’s the Wens who are lying, Nie Huaisang doesn’t really give a shit

But on the third day since he collapsed off Baxia into the main courtyard, Nie Mingjue wakes up. He’s groggy and weak, physically and spiritually, but he shoves himself into a sitting position with a glare, catches and holds Nie Huaisang reflexively when he flings himself at his brother with a relieved laugh. Someone pulls him back - “stop putting weight on him!” - but it’s enough. It’s enough.

Wen Qing has three-day bags under her eyes. She says quietly, “That he’s awake - it shouldn’t leave this room. Not until Nie-zhongzhi is more recovered, and has decided what he wishes to do.” She nods toward Nie Mingjue

“What the fuck happened?” he demands, and it’s the weakest snarl Nie Huaisang has ever heard. His brother is already sagging back against his pillows. “Jin Guangshan was actually polite before I left Lanling, but I don’t remember...”

“He poisoned you,” Nie Huaisang says bluntly, because he’s thinking again and that was the last straw he needed to be convinced of how this happened (he never really stopped thinking, deep beneath the anxious terror and anticipation.) “No, this stays here...or can he be moved to his own bedroom?” he asks the Chief Physician. “It’d be more comfortable, and easier to hide his state from any spies Jin Guangyao might have - I mean, I assume he has spies. I’d want to...”

[the mastermind]

A few days later, Nie Huaisang arrives at Lotus Pier and begs his friends to take him out on the town. Distract him with food and wine and cheer from the stresses of home, where his brother is still comatose and everyone is starting to expect him to be responsible instead

Jiang Cheng is busy with Sect Leader duties but Wei Wuxian takes him up on it immediately. There’s nowhere quite like Yunmeng’s piers for goofing around - somewhere around the fourth street theater show and second jug of wine between them, Nie Huaisang leans over and asks, “The next time there’s a cultivational conference at Carp Tower - would you be interested in making a ruckus?”

they’re walking down the street in a crowd. It’s very hard to be overheard on the street in a crowd

“Like tonight?” Wei Wuxian grins and he, too, looks like this night has been a welcome break

“Without me,” Nie Huaisang admits. “Just to have some fun - make a scene! Cause a fun distraction!”

A single jar of wine in Wei Wuxian means he’s still mostly sharp. “A distraction for what?”

“Oh, you know,” Nie Huaisang says airily, hides half his face behind a coy fan and says more quietly. “Helping some of those Wens dying in Jin Guangshan’s work camps.”

Wei Wuxian has never had much head for intrigue, but at least he whispers. “The same Wens who assa- who tried to assassinate your brother?”

“No, silly!” Nie Huaisang baps him with the fan, laughing, and hopes WWX sees in his eyes that he’s serious. “That’s a different thing. This is just to have some fun!”

Wei Wuxian meets his eyes, and his face splits back into a grin. It’s regained the sharp-toothed edge its been carrying since the end of the Sunshot Campaign. “Why not? I could use a little fun myself!”

The next cultivation conference at Carp Tower is in just three weeks, and Nie Huaisang spends them frantic. There’s so much to do, and he can’t let anyone know about any of it. There are plenty of empty houses, empty entire villages - the war was fought in Qinghe only second to Qishan, for Wen Ruohan’s determination to capture the impenetrable fortress clan 

he wants to err on the side of making sure people will have shelter, especially with winter coming on, but he needs to err on the side of stealth or they’ll never pull this off - 

but how are they (how is he) going to pull it off anyway, honestly; there’s only so many times he can storm in and demand things with a wild combination of pitiful tears and borrowed authority...he can’t exactly get another note for the actual Jin clan - 

...though...

they don’t need that many extra roofs, at least, if there won’t be that many people (priority of the Dafan Wens, of course, to repay Wen Qing and because, honestly, they’re the largest group that survived the initial purges, being mostly non-combatants)

he tried and failed to put the distraction out of mind, because there’s really no way to know in advance what Wei Wuxian would do, much less how to handle it. whether it would create a day or a week or several more years of chaos...

and then there was the really difficult part: getting Nie Mingjue to stay the fuck in bed, or at least in his own suite of rooms. Nie Huaisang’s brother was the worst patient possible, which was unfair, because Nie Huaisang himself would’ve loved to have an excuse to lounge in his bedroom doing leisurely, sedentary activities for few weeks. Instead he was out running around organizing things - while letting as few people as possible know what he was organizing or even that he was doing it - and Nie Mingjue was being threatened every other day by Wen Qing and her needles

To make matters more exciting, 10 days out from the cultivation conference, a delegation arrived without from YunmengJiang - Jiang Wanyin himself, and riding with him, Jiang Yanli. Nie Huaisang met them in the courtyard; she stepped gracefully off her brother’s sword and gave him a hug that was, honestly, meltingly comforting and kind

“Nie Huaisang! I’ve been so sorry to hear about Mingjue-gongzi. I would have come sooner, but, you know, we’re only stealing this time from a trip to Lanling for more wedding planning.” She gestured to a pair of disciples who between them hauled a tureen the size of a small child. “I brought some of my best medicinal soup - I don’t know if it will possibly be right, but A-Xian told me how hard it’s been for you, and I just had to try to help.”

offer

“You’re too kind, Jiang-guniang.” He fluttered his fan anxiously. “I’m sure Da-ge would thank you if he could, but...” he blinked away tears. “I can’t even let you in to see him; the physicians even turned away his sworn brothers.”

skeptical outlining of situation

(Jin Guangyao was obviously right out, and the idea of involving earnest, idealistic Zewu-jun in any sort of conspiracy made Nie Huaisang think fondly of breaking out in hives)

“Of course,” Jiang Yanli said sympathetically. She took her brother’s arm back to lean on, and Nie Huaisang took his cue to bow and offer her refreshments and a set - maybe with a view? He knew all the best places. Jiang Yanli, genuinely frail enough to not be expected to do much more than look lovely, accepted

they had a very pleasant conversation about other things - poetry, who was and wasn’t being invited to the wedding, the latest fashions in Lanling (Nie Huaisang sighed wistfully) 

eventually Jiang Yanli asked, between one sip of tea and the next, “This event you’re planning with A-Xian - could it be postponed? Say, six months?”

the wedding. Nie Huaisang’s breath caught briefly - now that would be a distraction in its own right, even without anything Wei Wuxian could pull

but he thought about the emaciated, flinching Wens in the Qiongqi Pass camp, and those back in Qishan who weren’t much better off, and shook his head. “Not for those to whom it would matter most.” 

and, frankly, he couldn’t ask his brother to stay quiet so long, and he really would prefer than Lanling not know Nie Mingjue had truly survived until they were ready to strike back

Jiang Yanli hummed thoughtfully. “What about...two, two-and-a-half months?”

...there was nothing happening in two months, except the middle of winter. which would make roads more impassible, maybe to their advantage, but only if a couple different things went wrong...

but Jiang Yanli was smiling sweetly, like someone with a plan

“I think that would be wonderful,” he said, and sipped his tea back at her

Jiang Cheng punches him on the shoulder before they go and says he doesn’t seem like he’s doing completely terribly at everything, which is the Jiang Cheng equivalent of a supportive hug and 10-minute earnest pep talk. Nie Huaisang is genuinely warmed

Jiang Yanli, mentally cracking her knuckles as her brother flies her to Carp Tower: time to seduce my fiancee, the third hottest man in the kingdom, into putting a baby in me so we can speedrun our wedding prep - for a good cause! god I love my life

[the grifter]

unfortunately, two-and-a-half months is too long a delay to use the usual “ask for forgiveness, not permission” method, not least because Nie Huaisang has to explain to his brother why he wants him to keep pretending to be comatose, when even his physicians are starting to agree that he needs exercise more than rest

“No,” Nie Mingjue says flatly

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang pleads. “It’ll just be so much easier if everyone thinks I’m running around like a terrified rabbit!”

“Why do you insist on being useless at all times?” Nie Mingjue growled, a familiar old song. “If you just applied yourself - ”

“Because it’s easier!” Nie Huaisang cried (a newer tune). “Because I don’t want to be a great warrior, I just want to make pretty things and have friends and have fun - and when I do want something, it’s much easier to get it if no one thinks I’m worth anything - ”

“Of course you’re worth something,” Nie Mingjue snapped. “You’re the heir to QingheNie and you’re my brother!”

Nie Huaisang really did cry easily. He blinked away the tears.

“The Jins tried to kill you, da-ge,” he said quietly. “And they tried to make it look like a qi deviation.” (Like Father, went unsaid. Like my mother and your uncle and three of our cousins, one of whom was only thirteen.) “I want to make clear to them what we think of that.”

Nie Mingjue unclenched his hand from Baxia’s hilt, with whom Nie Fengji and Sixth Uncle had finally agreed to let him reunite. “Then we kill one of them back,” he said. “Not this underhanded, indirect...and with Wen-dogs...”

“If I could kill Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao in one stroke, right now, I’d do it. But that would start another war, and we could survive another war, but a lot of our people wouldn’t. Only about seven out of ten survived the last one.” He bit his lip. “And the Wens...not all of them were monsters, we’ve seen that, and the Jins tried to blame the ones we know are alright. This will show them that we can make up our own minds.”

Nie Mingjue was silent for a long moment, and Nie Huaisong resisted the urge to shift from foot to foot. His brother was never impressed with fidgeting.

“Fine,” Nie Mingjue said at last. “Do your scheme. But you’d better prove that you’re right, Huaisang.”

“I will, Nie-zhongzhi.” He stood at parade attention.

“And you won’t use it as excuse that you’re too busy to practice your saber.”

“Da-ge!” he whined instantly. “But I will be busy! We need to tar all the house roofs in Ning Village, and find about fifty spare horses, and weed out any spies in our household - oh, and do you have any letters from Jin Guangyao I can look at? And...”

News came that the wedding of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan had been moved up to two months rom now and Nie Huaisang whistles under his breath then flinches reflexively, before he realizes there’s no "Twin Prides” around to smack him for disrespecting their sister

But two months somehow passed even faster than that first week had. Homes to quietly repair and no few medical supplies to stock up on, winter snow-ready horses to find and discard with another trip to Yunmeng, social visits to carefully negotiate...

Gossip flowed, as always. Gossip said: Nie Mingjue has survived the dastardly attack on his life; he’s still half-dead or he’s twice the warrior he ever was or he personally executed every Wen in his dungeons. Gossip said: the witch Wen Qing had seduced him and stabbed him with a poisoned blade; the witch Wen Qing had fallen in love with him and saved him from a random qi deviation; the witch Wen Qing was actually the Yiling Patriarch in disguise and both of the above were true. Gossip generally agreed that Nie Huaisang was still wavering between disconsolate over his brother’s brush his death (and his own brush with Sect Leadership) and dragging anyone who would heed him out for drinks and entertainment 

Jin Guangyao did have spies in the Unclean Realm, of course; he knew their value. His girl in the kitchen got fired over some mistake with a roast, but the guest cultivator and the chambermaid and assorted people in the nearest towns generally agreed: Nie Mingjue was back on his feet but still rebuilding his strength under the careful eye of his Chief Physician, and didn’t remember anything from the day of his qi deviation. Wen Qing was dead, as were all the other Wens - she and Wen Zhichen had preformed well in healing the damage she’d done in her attempt to poison the sect leader, under threat of their own deaths, but when Nie Mingjue woke up he'd ordered their deaths without even the dignity of public execution. Nie Huaisang was so wracked with guilt over bringing them into the house that he’d actually started practicing saber sometimes, and just a little heartbroken over the death of the child in particular

this last, Jin Guangyao found out himself, as well as confirmed most of the rest when he was allowed to visit his sworn brother and ended up letting Nie Huaisang sob on his shoulder for two straight hours. He had to have the robe steam-cleaned, but it was very informative

“Would you like us to kill the rest of the Wen-dogs?” he asked his sworn brother. “Or you can do it yourself, of course.”

Nie Mingjue snorted dismissively. “I killed the ones who were the biggest problem. Keep working your dogs to death as you like.”

The night before they were supposed to leave for the Jiang-Jin wedding, Nie Huaisang sat in his brother’s chambers (as he had taken to doing many evenings) and absolutely failed to focus on his paints.

“ - I’m sure I can handle the lieutenants left in charge, though really I haven’t talked to them as much so they’re more likely to be suspicious, especially if I didn’t get the calligraphy right - ”

“Huaisang - ”

“ - and the Wens themselves, I mean, this has to go quickly if it’s going to work at all - what if Wen Ning hasn’t gotten word around - we haven’t heard from him since yesterday, what if they found him, he could be- Wen Qing is going to kill me - ”

(the Nie sect wasn’t given to duplicity, but that didn’t mean their fortress of a sect building didn’t have a few spare secret rooms and passageways, in which to hide a handful of Wens for a couple months)

“A-sang - ”

“ - hell, what if the arrays don’t work and we all just die - but it’s the only way; horses wouldn’t be fast enough, especially with the heavy snows this year - ”

“Nie Huaisang!” Nie Mingjue barks in a parade-ground voice.

Nie Huaisang spins around mid-pace to stand at attention, one hand behind his back and the other on his saber hilt. A very few reflexes have been successfully trained into him

His brother scowls at him from the bed, where he sits in lotus position as the world’s grumpiest, most broad-shouldered guru. Nie Huaisang braces himself

“I’m proud of you,” says Nie Mingjue

“I- what?” 

Nie Huaisang has spent the last two and a half months careful of every expression he made, but now he isn’t sure what to do at all.

“You’ve actually put effort into this. It’s needlessly elaborate and only just barely honorable, and it’s certainly not saberwork. But it’s...something.” He nods.

“...oh.” 

his posture does relax in surprise. but then, the parade-attention was never going to last

“You will pull off this absurd scheme, and you will not be in any way injured in the process, because if you are, we will go to war with LanlingJin.”

“Yes, da-ge”

“Now shut the fuck up, or I’ll call Wen Qing in to put you to sleep, while I do this bullshit boring nightly meditation.”

Nie Huaisang ducks his head. “Yes, da-ge.”

oh, a smile. a smile is the expression he wants to make

The day of the wedding of Jin Zixuan of Langling and Jiang Yanli of Yunmeng dawns auspiciously bright and the ceremony lives up to every portent. Carp Tower is decorated with even more red than gold. The bride is radiant enough to make the sun weep for jealousy; the groom looks pretty good, too; and they only have eyes for one another. Both her brothers cry, Jiang Cheng stoically and Wei Wuxian loudly; Madame Jin looks even happier than the newlyweds; and Nie Huaisang makes sure he’s among the first to offer the happy couple congratulations, so he can equally quickly slip out and set off a teleportation talisman

He appears in the woods near the first town in the Qishan that the spare Wen cultivators and other prisoners of war are being stored in. A dozen Nie cultivators are waiting expectantly, led by Zhao Huandi

Nie Huaisang quickly strips himself of the outer layer of wedding-appropriate finery, leaving his ordinary day’s slightly-nicer-than-most-would-bother-with finery. He tucks the extra beautiful stuff carefully in a qiankun pouch and asks, “Everyone ready?”

nods and salutes and murmurs of agreement

He briefly channels a completely different work of fiction: “Let’s go steal a small populace.” 

It’s actually...very easy. “Isn’t the young lord’s wedding today?” asks the man left in charge while Jin Qixian, being a cousin of the family, is at that wedding. “Why aren’t you at that?”

“I didn’t practice my saber for a week and my brother got sooo angry.” Nie Huaisang pouts. “He forbade me from the party of the year, and gave me a job to do instead! It’s not fair - I’d be happy to do a favor for san-ge any other day!”

The lieutenant eyes the orders he’s been handed, in Jin Guangyao’s handwriting with Jin Guangyao’s signature. “Well, it does all seem to be in order.” He waves to the nearest guard. “Hey, start rounding up the prisoners - all of them!”

Nie Huaisang had two months, a lot of correspondence, and a great deal of practice imitating art styles. He’d been able to forge his own brother’s handwriting since was twelve - Jin Guangyao’s was much easier. Much neater

Nie Huaisang spotted the guard who’d been kind enough to let Granny come with A-Yuan, that first time, and pointed at him. “Make sure you get all the old people and babies and stuff, too! Anyone who can’t come on their own!

As Wens start to gather (be gathered) in the main square, most of the Nie cultivators clear a space and sketch out a large array in blood, a little from each cultivator’s hand. It’s wide enough for about forty people to stand in. When it’s done, Nie Huaisang nods to a disciple standing to the side with a bow. She leans back and shoots an arrow with a red ribbon into the sky. It vanishes in a spark of golden light

one of Nie Sect’s messenger arrows. It will land at Wen Qing’s feet in Qinghe to let her know that they’re on their way, and she can be ready with whatever medical care and reassurances she wants

He claps to get the muttering, anxious crowd’s attention, and can’t quite help but grin as he gets it. He gestures to the bloody array, reminiscent of a teleportation talisman on a grand scale. “All right, who wants to leave this terrible place where everyone hates you in exchange for a new terrible place where everyone hates you, travel by serving as the first test subjects of the Yiling Patriarch’s new mass-teleportation array?!”

[the hacker]

(a jest. Wei Wuxian definitely tested it first, on himself and a bunch of rabbits and himself+Jiang Cheng (in that order.) He promised.)

it’s a little out-of-character, but most of the guards who react just laugh meanly. And the Wens, hell yes, have been prepped. A handful protest, beg mercy or insist that this is their home, but for the most part, Nie Huaisang can recognize amateur acting when he sees it

thank goodness - they need a ratio of at least 1 participating cultivator to every 6 civilians to power the array, or the Nie cultivators supporting it from outside will exhaust themselves immediately

as the first group is going, a burst of light bright enough to blind, an arrow falls from the sky to Nie Huaisang’s feet. The note attached is from Liu Lifang: won’t take Lianfang-zun’s orders

aw, hell. He hesitates - another arrow lands, a green ribbon on the end. The first batch of Wens arrived safely in Qinghe

he passes both arrows to Zhao Huandi and murmurs, “I’m going to go sort this out. Make sure everyone gets through, stop it if something goes wrong with the teleportation. If something goes wrong with the Wens or the Jins...try not to kill anyone”

Zhao Huandi bows, turns and immediately starts shouting for the array to be checked for the next batch. Nie Huaisang makes some hasty, whining excuses to the Jin lieutenant, pulls out another teleportation, and-

arrives in the filthy refugee/prisoner city with a bit of the ache of an over-taxed golden core. He rests his hands on his knees for a moment, catching his breath

Still better than sword travel. He’s going to bother Wei Wuxian for these all the time, now

the woman left in charge in Jin Guangchao’s place is engaged in a staring glaring contest with Liu Lifang at their supervisory office. But have their arms crossed and the tension is so thick they’re both clearly itching to slice it with a sword

Nie Huaisang tumbles through the door with a whining, “What? Why did you call me?”

“I actually sent my message to Sect Leader Nie...” says Liu Lifang, with masterful confusion

“Well, he sent me,” Nie Huaisang complains. He turns to the other woman. “What’s the big deal? Da-ge said we should have a note for san-ge - that is, Jin Guangyao, Lianfang-zun - ”

She scowled even more darkly. “My orders come from Jin Guangchao and his from Sect Leader Jin Guangshan, not from Jin-zhongzhi’s bastard son”

[split-second thinking]

“Oh, but Guangyao-ge really knows what he’s doing,” said Nie Huaisang, wide-eyed. “He was so good at organizing everything, before da-ge had to banish him that one time” Bait...

“’So good’?” she challenges. “Then why’d he get banished at all?”

“Oh, you must have heard of my brother’s temper,” Nie Huaisang whines. “He gets so angry when one little thing goes wrong, and then Meng Yao - back then - did a pretty big thing...you’re so lucky Sect Leader Jin is more forgiving.” Hook...

“It would be terrible if Jin Guangyao did something to so anger Sect Leader Jin,” she said thoughtfully.

“I’m glad I doubt he ever would!” He gestured to the forged papers in Liu Lifang’s hand. “And as you can see, we have direct orders from him for you to release these prisoners into Nie Sect’s care - so won’t you do your duty and obey, so I can get back to my party?”

Do your duty, the orders themselves aren’t your responsibility, they’re his. The Jin cultivator nods slowly, then bows sharply, formal and faux-friendly. “Of course, Young Master Nie. How good of you to help your brother like this.”

Sinker.

(also not the worst idea, actually. a little dissension thrown into the Jin clan would be great)

Once again, most of the Wens are almost more willing the queue up than the guards are to make them, though many do blanch at the twenty-foot teleportation array drawn in blood (maximum power for minimal cost, Wei Wuxian had explained). A few are genuinely terrified of leaving; a few are almost certainly just enjoying the drama

a young man, as grubby as the rest and face hidden behind a shy curtain of hair, steps into the array without a flinch, and gives Nie Huaisang a subtle thumbs up. He waves back, just as underhanded, and lets slip a relieved sigh as he mentally crosses out “accidentally got her brother killed and/or captured/tortured/etc” on the list of reasons Wen Qing might kill him one day

[the thief spy]

(it hadn’t been easy to convince her to let him go in the first place. but really, Wen Ning was quick-thinking, trustworthy to all who met him, and good at staying hidden when he needed to. and they needed the Wens helping power the arrays, not to mention just not putting up a fight - everything going much quicker with word spread as to what was really happening. And, Nie Huaisang prided himself, it was just a little bit kinder)

this city’s worth were half gone to Qinghe when another messenger arrow landed at his feet in a burst of golden light. A purple ribbon - First Disciple Han Xiaoshi was done at Qiongqi Pass

she’d taken a much higher percentage of skilled warriors (not that all Nie Sect cultivators weren’t skilled warriors) than the other groups, as well as a “signed” note from Jin Guangyao. The work camp at Qiongqi Pass was the place Nie Huaisang least minded if the rescue of the Wens turned into a fight with the Jins. Sixth Uncle had taken nearly as long to get back into good health as Nie Mingjue, and he hadn’t liked hte way the inspectors smiled

[the hitter]

a few minutes later, a blue-ribboned arrow meant the first Qishan group was all through, too. Nie Huaisang and Liu Lifang’s group was the last to finish

they went with the last batch. One disciple stayed behind to clean it up and fly home - no point in sharing the Yiling Patriarch’s proprietary inventions with Jin Sect if they didn’t have to

the mass teleportation array is much worst than the single-use talisman. Nie Huaisang feels like he’s been turned upside-down and inside-out, and wrung out like a wet cloth besides. Golden core, more like yellowish pith. He does his best to stay standing

he’s knocked flat by the impact of a small mass slamming into his shins at high speed. “Sang-ge! Sang-ge! You didn’t say everyone was going to be at the wedding! Was it fun? Where are your pretty clothes?”

“My extra pretty clothes are in my qiankun bag, A-Yuan.” He pushed himself to sit up, and attempts to distangle the toddler from his legs. “Which is good, because you’re getting my normal pretty clothes all dirty on the ground!”

A-Yuan squeezed him even tighter, to show that nobody was the boss of him, then sprang away with his hands behind his back, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. That, too, lasted for about half a second before the boy was bouncing in place again. “Did you know that Uncle Four is here now, and Auntie Three, and Zhui Li and Mengmeng and Han Yao got a puppy - ”

“A-Yuan, stop harassing the poor man!” Granny hurried up behind him at a much slower pace than a toddler could manage. She bows, over A-Yuan-head, eyes shining. “Young Master Nie has done a great service for us this day. You should be saying thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, dreaming briefly of sliding a sword through Jin Guangshan’s throat. He forces himself to stand - the world has mostly stopped swimming - and pulls her upright, and pokes A-Yuan with his foot so he follows suit. “A-Yuan was just giving me a report - yes, we’re the last batch!” he calls to a cultivator approaching with a querulous expression. “You’d better send an arrow to da-ge to tell him that it’s all okay!”

Second Disciple Ling Jiaoshi nods and scribbles out a note, and hands it to a junior trailing behind him with a bow and arrow

behind them, around them, about five hundred Wens and Wen-associated people are milling around a deep valley tucked into Qinghe’s mountains. Most are avoiding the three great arrays painted in blood in the center of a some fields, mirrors to the ones in Qishan and Qiongqi Pass, though the landing sites will be inactive with their pairs destroyed. Many are exclaiming to see family and friends again, or looking around in wary uncertainty, or both. The main source of order is being imposed by the multiple triage tents, sorting out who needs medical attention and who just needs a blanket and hearty meal. Nie Huaisang can hear the Chief Physician yelling at someone in the distance

A-Yuan tugs on his hand and repeats accusatorially, “You didn’t say everyone was going to be at the wedding! That must have been so big! Are we all staying with Sang-ge and Miss Yi now? And Aunt Qing and Uncle Ning and Uncle Nie-Who-Needs-Quiet?” His eyes widen and he tugs even harder. “Did you bring new candy?!”

Nie Huaisang laughs and pulls from one pocket a silk flag in brilliant red, filched from the wedding decorations. “No, but I did get material for a new fan. Do you want to help me paint it?”

To be concluded with a brief epilogue!

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Ghost Driver” Part 2

When The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations. Turbo is The King’s Ghost Driver and although she’s a legend, her life is far from perfect.

Part 1

Four Days Afterwards, 7:47pm

“Good evening, madam. I am tonight’s entertainment,” Frost blurs out as soon as you open the door and instantly regrets his pun. “Sorry, that was stupid to say,” he apologizes.

The reason why you look puzzled is not his joke, but another motive: you never saw Jonny wearing anything else besides a suit or military gear; the fact that he’s standing in front of you wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt is quite intriguing.

“Hi,” you move aside so he can come in.

“Did I wake you up?”

“I fell asleep watching a movie,” Y/N smiles at his comfortable attire. “No big deal. Did Mister Joker send you?” the subtle question indicates you want to find out the reason for his visit.

“No... I was just thinking… maybe we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to go and watch the fireworks with me. I have food and sleeping bags, plus an ice chest with drinks in my truck.”

You seem confused.

“Mmmm, you know what? Forget about it. That was completely idiotic to suggest,” Frost realizes that asking a freshly divorced woman to get out of the house after she was kidnapped and starved into her ex’s basement only four days ago it’s not the most brilliant idea he ever had.

“You had me at food and fireworks,” you wink at his insecurity. “The drinks sealed the deal. I’m confused on one detail: do I have to change or can I come in my PJ’s?”

“PJ’s are perfect.”

“Awesome!” you grab the keys from the coffee table. “Where exactly are we heading?”

“Fire Creek Hill, it’s one of the best spots to enjoy the view,” Jonny replies.

“Isn’t that closed to the general public?” Y/N inquires and his logic makes you laugh while exchanging your socks for flip-flops.

“I doubt we’re considered the general public. I had to pull some strings though,” he admits, overjoyed you actually agreed to accompany him.

Not that he shows it in any other way besides the invitation he barely mustered the courage to extend towards The Joker’s Ghost Driver.

*************

9:03pm  

“Oh, it’s starting!” you excitedly nibble on your Alfredo pasta.

The first fireworks bloom in the distance and Frost opens the cooler, pointing out the goodies he salvaged from the liquor store.

“Pick your poison: we have a bottle of premixed margarita, wine, whiskey, tequila and…,” he fumbles around,”…try to contain yourself: water!”

“You definitely bought some of my favorites , including the food. How did you guess?” the bubbly Y/N smiles.

“I pay attention,” Jonny mentions. “So what’s gonna be?”

“Margarita please,” you hold the plastic cup and can’t help snickering as he pours the liquid.

“What?” he suspiciously bites on his cheek.

“Nothing really… I was imagining you without the beard,” you decide not to keep it a secret.

“Damn!” Frost snorts. “I had it for years; didn’t consider shaving because our employer would freak out. Stop giggling, it’s not funny! He totally would!” Jonny elbows you.

“I bet you have a baby face underneath all that facial hair; if you shave I can promise a new nickname will arise: Baby- Face Frost.”

“Shut up!” he chuckles at your quirky proposal. “Yet I can’t deny it has a certain ring to it.”

“See what I mean? It might work!... Oh my God, that’s a huge one!” you gasp, distracted by the sparkling night sky. “What are they celebrating? 150 years since this piece of crap town was founded?”

“Apparently,” Jonny sighs and watches Y/N bundle up in the sleeping bag.

“Thank you for the feast,” your tone changes to a serious one. “I didn’t have this much fun in the back of a truck in a long time. Go ahead, laugh!” you pout at his reaction. “I’m aware how it sounds like; I didn’t mean it that way!!!”

“Still funny as hell!” Jonny is getting a kick out of the conversation.

“Psst! Hey, Casanova!” The Joker’s mop of green hair pop up from behind the car’s high railing.

“Mister Joker!” you get startled by his unexpected presence.

“Boss, what are you doing here?” Frost utters in disbelief.

“Why aren’t you answering your phone, huh?” J ignores his henchman’s inquiry.

“It’s in the glove compartment, sir. I’m enjoying the…”

“Pardon me for interrupting your date,” The King of Gotham huffs.

“We’re not on a date,” the attempted explanation gets cut short.

“Sell it to whoever wants to buy it,” The Joker growls at Jonny’s words. “I had to follow the signal from your cell and trace your location; what a marvelous bonus to find my Turbo also!”

The eerie grin makes you finally speak up:

“Do you need help with anything Mister J?”

“Do I?” he plays dumb. “Probably.”

Why does he have to ruin the night? Frost reflects, annoyed.

Nobody knows, but if he could spend ages in your company, he believes it would be an eternity well spent.

And The Joker had to ruin it.

Goddammit!

“Can you patch me up?” J takes of his jacket, revealing a blood stained shirt.

“What happened?” you and Jonny jump off the vehicle.

“I got myself in a little bit of a situation,” he grumbles. “It’s a clean wound; the bullet came out on the other side.”

“We should take you to the doctor, boos; you need stitches!”

“Thanks for your concern, Doctor Frost,” The Joker sassily remarks. “I’ll go in the morning.  I have more important matters to take care of tonight.”

You peel off his garment and assess the damage; he can’t hold it in:

“I bet you wanted to do this after I texted you my nudes, huh?”

You have to admit he caught you by surprise with his statement and the best solution in this situation is to cooperate:

“Been dreaming about it quite often.”

“Ha! I knew it!” The Clown cracks up. “Were you dreaming about it during your date?” he teases more.

“We’re not on a date,” you frown at the blood gushing from his wound.

“Interesting,” J expands on the subject. “At least you two have one thing in common: you’re both delusional.”

Frost rolls his eyes without J noticing and you signal him:

“Can I please get the whiskey? I need to disinfect this.”

“You have whiskey on your date?! Excuse me, non-date,” his majesty’s obnoxious temper emerges again.

You don’t engage for the moment, just open the bottle that Jonny gave you and splash a generous amount on the laceration.

“Jesus Christ!!!” The King shouts. “Be gentle woman, I’m fragile!!!”

“Sorry Mister J,” you mutter and Frost is certainly approving your tiny revenge scheme. “Can you please turn on the lights on your car? It’s getting dark and I can’t see what I’m doing,” you address The Joker’s sidekick. “Do you have a first aid kit in your vehicle Mister J?” you gesture towards his SUV parked a few feet away.

“I should,” a demented smirk flourished on his lips. “In the trunk!”

“Take a seat in the grass Mister J; I’ll go get it,” you urge the patient.

“Boss, are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the doctor?” Frost offers and instead of obliging your request, J pursues your steps because he doesn’t want to miss Turbo’s reaction.

“It’s fine, I’ll survive until morning time.”

You lift the trunk and gasp, stunned: your stellar ex-husband is tied up in there, duct tape over his mouth, clearly enjoying the repercussions of a confrontation due to bruises you can discern at a first glance.

“Oops, forgot about him,” The Clown yawns, bored.

Adam starts wiggling and mumbling whilst you can’t react.

“The fucker shot me!” your employer hisses. “Had the nerve to try killing me when he’s the one sleeping with MY girlfriend!”

“What’s the plan, sir?” Jonny intervenes, worried at your stunned attitude.

“The plan is simple: since Y/N is intimately acquainted with our guest, I’m willing to work out a deal. I don’t wanna to be accused of not listening to my associates.”

Adam keeps struggling and you finally reach and remove the duct tape.

“Honey, honey please!” he immediately rambles on, panicked. “You know I was joking about your weight, right? You don’t have to lose a few pounds! I admit locking you up in the basement was a huge mistake, ok? OK…? I’m sorry! I swear I’ll never cheat on you in the future. We can work things out, can’t we?” a glimmer of hope alleviates the somber perspective of his imminent demise once you begin searching his pockets.

He has the false impression you’ll untie him when in the matter of fact you are hunting down for his house keys so you can reclaim all the items you bribed him with when he signed the divorce papers.

Bingo! Treasure attained.

“So do you know him or not?” The Joker taps his fingers on the cold metal of his gun.

You take a deep breath, place the duct tape on Adam’s lips and sneer:

“I never saw this asshole in my life!”

“The lady has spoken!” J slams the trunk, unnerved. “Frost, you can go home; Y/N will take me to the warehouse on 8th street: she can borrow a car from there and split. I’ll send someone in the morning to bring it back.”

“Boss, we can leave your SUV here and I can drive you both…”

“DID I STUTTER?” The Clown growls, unhappy with Jonny’s shenanigans.

“No sir.”

“Mister J,” you distract his menacing temper. “Do you want me to bandage your injury now?”

“Nah, you can do it at the warehouse.”

More fireworks illuminate the skies and none in the small group is watching them anymore: the show is over for everyone involved.

You wave at Frost and hop in The Joker’s car as he positions himself in the passenger’s seat; you can tell something is off, besides the obvious of course.

If you’d have to speculate, you would say that his behavior is of a man who wasn’t hurt just physically, but on a different level he doesn’t understand yet: J went after your ex-husband alone when he doesn’t take unnecessary risks; enough proof to indicate he loved Ella and sought revenge for her betrayal without any of his team’s help.

You wonder what he did to the woman: did he kill her? Or worse?... You won’t dig to find out regardless.

The truth is you are The Joker’s Turbo and the statement works in reverse too: he is your Joker who undeniably needs cheering.

And you always deliver. That’s why you’re his.

That’s why you appreciate he made an effort to compromise on Adam’s predicament even if he didn’t mean it.

You steadily drive on the trail until you arrive to the main road, then suddenly accelerate with a specific purpose in mind. You take a sharp turn on Morrison Avenue, already at 100 miles per hour.

“What are you doing?” J bitterly enunciates.

“Why am I your Ghost Driver Mister Joker?” you reply with a question.

“Nobody can catch up with you.”

“Yup, the car to catch up with me hasn’t been assembled. Here they are, Gotham’s finest!” Y/N boasts at the lights glistening behind. “They always have a nightly patrol on Morrison Avenue ready to catch law un-abiding citizens,” you exclaim and J’s smirk widens at your proposition. “What do you say we make them work for their donuts, hm?”

“That’s my girl!” The King gives his blessing while Turbo speeds up the street in a frenzy.

************

11:58 pm

You barely returned to you apartment after the random factors which cut your rendezvous short when the cell chimes: a message from Frost.

“Did you make it home safe?”

“Yes,” you text.

“I’ve been busy. Wait, I’ll send you a picture.”

Downloading picture…

“Holy… shit!!!!!” you yell at your phone because the image depicts a portrait of a freshly shaved Jonny Frost.

“Do you like it?” the sentence appears on the screen concomitant with a knock at the main entrance.

“Who is it?” you drag your feet on the carpet.

“Me.”

As soon as you are standing in front of him, Frost hides his nervousness the best way he can; and he’s not a nervous individual per se.

“I thought you might want to take a closer look…,” he enters the hallway and you slowly lock the door behind him.

You don’t say anything, just touch his face and he pecks your wrist, confessing a secret he kept bottled up for years:

“Do you know I’ve been in love with you from the first second I saw you?”

Y/N doesn’t have to calculate in order to whisper:

“That’s a long time.”

“What’s the verdict?...“ Jonny insists. “You approve the change?”

“Yes,” you kiss him and he holds you tighter, thinking that if he could spend ages in your arms, it would be an eternity well spent.

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-09-29

More Homestuck time!  Continuing on the outside-canon plot.  Livebloggin’ starts now...

> CHAPTER 14. The Best Laid Plans

Wait, who’s house is this?  Was this Roxy’s?  (When I saw a glimpse browsing my twitter feed during the debate, I saw Yiffy on the ground accosted.)

> (==>)

THEY’RE JUST HOME?!?!?????

HOW???  HOW could the heat be off so badly?

Jane’s arrogant, but one of the CHARACTERISTICS of her arrogance is that she underestimates the character and capability of her political opponents.  How would she NOT consider the possibility that these kids would return home again even while the heat was on??  How would she assume that JOHN would be too smart to come back to--

...oh right, she may not know John is involved or willing to do anything.  That’s fair.  But the kids??

I’m sure there’s going to be SOME sort of explanation of why the heat is off.  Also, I wonder who made that anti-Jane battle plan chart?  John himself, or Karkat or something?  Karkat’s usually the chart-er.

JOHN: wow, i feel like i'm barely keeping myself sitting. JOHN: if it weren't for keeping you kids safe i'd be out there right now!

Hm.  Are they counting on the fact that Crockercorp would KNOW that John and Vriska are both there to intimidate them from moving in against them?  From a sheer difference-in-firepower standpoint after Vriska’s big display?

HARRY: and some of us aren't gods and shit. JOHN: i'm detecting a hint of judgement in your voice, there, harry anderson JOHN: don't you enjoy being a part of all this? finally getting to be in the thick of it all? HARRY: i mean i was having a fine time at school, if i'm being honest. HARRY: all this tear-assing back and forth between my home and various points of interest over the past few days has me pretty beat.

Yeah, most kids don’t appreciate being involved in war.  Even Vrissy immediately showed some regrets no matter how much she liked to think of herself as wanting to get out there.

HARRY: also i wouldn't call this "the thick of it all" JOHN: oof, getting air quotes'd by my own son. JOHN: we had to hide in a forsythia bush on the way back here when that drone flew by! JOHN: that's the thick of father-son hijinks if i ever saw it! JOHN: well, modern day war hijinks, but i'll take what i can get, you know??

(Be more considerate, John!!)  Hm, so they DID sneak their way back in here?  I mean, John’s powers may have helped them get through unnoticed, but this is still a big stretch.

HARRY: i'm not knocking the old adrenaline thrill, or helping out Vrissy's moms or anything. HARRY: i'm just saying i was literally just here and you told me to leave, so i hope this is where we're gonna park it for a minute. HARRY: a boy's gotta breathe. JOHN: yeah, well, this wasn't my plan, either. JOHN: but rose sent out some false intel about us heading toward my house, so technically this is the safest place we can be right now, since they cleared the area and everything. JOHN: i guess.

Ahhhh.  Okay.  Yeah, a Seer of Light can float an attention lure and know it’ll be an effective enough distraction.

HARRY: hmm. JOHN: what? HARRY: now YOU look like you're hiding some extra commentary. JOHN: oh, i don't need to burden you with all the bureaucratic stuff, it's boring. HARRY: well now hold up, dad. HARRY: a minute ago you were all "we're in the fight together," and now you're backing out of sharing the details? JOHN: it's not really- HARRY: am i a part of this or not? JOHN: well i'd sure say you were! JOHN: but i guess maybe my thoughts on what is or isn't right for the operation aren't up to snuff. JOHN: because here i am, sitting in the dugout, same as you. HARRY: in the dugout?

Mhmm, John’s sore about Rose not counting on John as a heavy hitter.  He got back INTO this in part because he missed all the action and relevance, and now they’re telling him to stop and stand still?  That’s never been a command John’s easily agreed with.  For now, protecting the kids (Blood!) is enough to keep him sitting, but if they (and Vriska) start encouraging him...

HARRY: plus i wouldn’t have been able to get your measurements for some clothes that actually fit you if we hadn’t come back here where all my sewing stuff is.

Thank god, we might get a non-embarrassing god-pajamas John back

HARRY: you were getting pretty into everything back there with rose and them? getting to be with the old crew and everything, like the stories you told me about the game? JOHN: yeah. HARRY: that sucks. JOHN: i had a good plan, too! JOHN: it just wasn't good enough for karkat, i guess. JOHN: i'm just not "experienced enough in combat strategy"

Oh huh, so that’s John’s discarded plan he’s holding.  Karkat's faction hasn’t quite succeeded the bloody (heh) way so far, perhaps he needs John’s Breath to add some inspiration to it for the most success but they’re not giving him enough credit?  It’s hard to blame them for doubting him, though.

JOHN: that is a plus of being here, at least. JOHN: it's been really nice to get to spend so much time with you. HARRY: um. yeah, it's not so bad. HARRY: anyway, before you ruffle my hair or anything, it looks like things are getting a bit heated between the vriskas over there. HARRY: maybe we should offer them a snack to bring the mood back down? JOHN: me, mess up your hair when you’ve worked so hard on that look? i do know you at least that well, harry anderson HARRY: thank god.

Cute!

VRISKA: So you actually want to know what I’m thinking now? You want my opinion? VRISSY: Um...Yes? VRISSY: I'm not Really Sure what’s going on right Now. VRISKA: What? VRISSY: I just was wondering why you’re so pissed off at me. VRISKA: What the fuck are you talking about? VRISKA: I’m not pissed at you, you haven’t done shit 8asically at all since i’ve been here. VRISKA: I just can’t 8elieve I’m 8ack stuck in this tacky rumpusblock after all of that!

Both Vriskas are constantly assuming the other Vriska is thinking about them because they’re both Vriska, when they’re really both self-cente-- no, that’s not quite true.  Vrissy constantly assumes Vriska is thinking about her when she isn’t, and Vriska is somewhat grated because Vrissy belongs in this universe and she isn’t? Or--

Gosh they both have so many issues going on and firewalls up that I can’t actually make heads or tails of it.  Usually what’s on Vriska’s mind is painfully obvious from her dodges, but Vrissy is so oblique with her OWN weird thought processes that-- god I dunno

VRISSY: We could do Something if You Wanted. VRISKA: Huh? VRISSY: If you’re 8ored. VRISSY: This isn’t my House, but Harry has video games and Movies and shit. VRISSY: Actually, we’re pro8a8ly 8etter off not watching his movies. VRISSY: His taste is Worse than His Dad’s. VRISKA: AGGGHHH!!!!!!!!

They’re from two different worlds, yeah.

VRISKA: No, I don’t want to watch a fucking movie! How the fuck can you think a8out movies????????? VRISKA: How are you okay with any of this? VRISSY: Any of What? VRISKA: 8eing left at home like a couple of dri88ling of wigglers!

Vriska invests all of her self-worth in what she can bring to the table relevance-ways.  Her self-esteem couldn’t survive the sidelines.

VRISKA: How are you so calm right now? Your lusii were training you, right? And you’re a troll, you’re definitely five times stronger than a human! And if you’re my clone, you are way more 8adass than little miss Fussy Fangs. VRISKA: I can’t 8elieve you just stayed 8ehind?!?? VRISSY: Well...they told me to. And they’re my Moms.

COMPLETELY different lives.  Vriska has never really accepted, never really KNEW what “peaceful life” is actually supposed to be, nor how alluring and satisfying it is.

VRISKA: Clearly not a good plan, 8ecause then I would 8e part of it! VRISKA: What’s the point of me even coming to this shitty fake reality if I’m not supposed to fix it?

hahahahahahahaha

VRISSY: Yeah, they told me about That stuff, but a Lot of the Shit that Happened in the Session if just not in the History Books. VRISSY: You weren’t Really mentioned that Much. VRISKA: Excuse me? VRISSY: People know who you Are, 'cause we had to Memorize the names of Every one of the Players, Even the ones who didn’t last very Long. VRISKA: You’re trying to tell me that there’s a whole recorded history of SGRUB, and I’m not in it?  VRISSY: You’re not not in it.  VRISSY: I guess they Mostly Focused on the Creators who Ascended, you know?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

--hm, what if some of the pre-retcon timeline where Vriska WASN’T as involved DID fold its way into this one?  Explaining Jane remembering Gamzee showing up early in her session to sell her troll blood when that was (if we’re remembering right, correct me if I’m wrong) erased by the retcon in favor of Vriska time-traveling in in his place?

VRISKA: Whoever was schoolfeeding you was a complete 8ulgesucker, because I “ascended” 8efore any of the humans did!! VRISKA: Literally 8illions of years 8efore, since our session was the one that created theirs!!!!!!!! VRISKA: I was the 8ne who 8uided John’s 8uffoonish 8lue ass all the way through his first 8ew days in the Medium! VRISKA: I m8de all the plans to take down the J8cks! VRISKA: I SINGLE H8ND8DLY! VRISKA: CURED YOUR MOTHER’S FUCKING ALCH8LISM!!!!!!!! JOHN: uh, vriska, everything okay over there? VRISKA: EVERYTHING’S FINE, J8HN! JOHN: okay. JOHN: do you girls want a snack? VRISKA: AAAAGGH!

HA!

HARRY: vriska, eat whatever. HARRY: just not the zebra cakes, those are mine.

(Zebra cakes are kinda Barbasol-bomb-like, right? Doom thing, because black-and-white stripes like most of the black-and-white-striped explosives in Homestuck? --Nah that’s a stretch.)

> (==>)

--That’s not Jane’s head, that’s JOHN’S head giving a thumbs up.  Wow.

...Your plan prominently features Yiffy even though you didn’t know she existed until a couple hours ago?

JOHN: so anyway, as you can see, this would have worked just fine! HARRY: no i think karkat’s right. this looks like shit, dad. JOHN: you know, me letting your earlier use of the word "fuck" slide wasn't a blanket approval for all cursing in front of me. HARRY: sorry. HARRY: try not to make such a shit plan, and i won't call it that. JOHN: haha wow.

Harry really is his son, wow

HARRY: i mean, i still can't believe i told vrissy and them to bring a dead celebrity to school. HARRY: what was i THINKING. JOHN: you were thinking it sounded hilarious! JOHN: but yeah, in hindsight, maybe not the best call. JOHN: maybe it’s genetic? HARRY: yeah.

Harry really is his son, wow

HARRY: i kinda can’t believe we’re all still alive, actually. HARRY: and how did YOU make it this far, being so bad at this? JOHN: i had my friends with me, i guess.

Pretty much!

Plus, they haven’t really had time to talk about what happened with Dave, yet, and he doesn’t want to tank the mood by bringing him up.

Glad John’s taken some time to deal with that offscreen, so he can keep being cheery here.

He’d spent so long seeing mostly the best parts of Roxy in Harry Anderson. He forgot, he guesses, to look for himself in there, too. And if what they have in common right now is a lack of strategic foresight, hey, he’ll take it.

Hah, fair enough!

JOHN: speaking of friends, i will say the snacks were a good call, at least! JOHN: i don’t hear any more screaming, anyway. JOHN: see, that's one good plan between the two of us!

--they left, didn’t they.

> (==>)

HARRY: oh, that was definitely them leaving, wasn’t it. JOHN: ah.

--So was Vrissy peer-pressured along, or practically abducted?

> (==>)

--Oh, this was the picture I glimpsed and scrolled past on Twitter!  She’s not on the ground, she’s running-- good.

> (==>)

--ALREADY!  Fuck yes!  :D

(and those cute paws on jade’s gloves wow)

> (==>)

--Oh I thought that was an air-lift! No, they were just diving to the ground with her.

Man, the pacing of this panel-to-panel composition throws me SO much.  Stuff happens without being properly established, and we’re shown the wrong keyframes to internalize it easily.  (I hope I don’t have to keep mentioning how much I miss Andrew’s talent at it, even though the art WITHIN panels is better here.)

So Jane is confronting them with soldiers.

ROSE: Oh, is this one of those rare and marvelous beasts, the "villain speech"? ROSE: I've written one or two in my time. ROSE: I'm on the edge of my seat. I hope it's better than your political material; I've always found that rather trite. JANE: I haven't given a political speech in years, Ms. Lalonde. I don't know what you're referring to. I'm just a simple business woman. JADE: right with her own talk show JADE: and multi billion dollar merchant company and lobbying groups! JANE: That's what a business woman is, Jade, dear.

--ah, in this perspective maybe Jane DOESN’T have the resources to be “everywhere” yet.  Makes more sense that they could’ve left the home unguarded.

JANE: But enough of that. I'll skip straight to the point. JANE: You are on my territory, in the presence of my secret police, laying your hand on my investment.

QUIT DEHUMANIZING THE GIRL

JANE: You think I come anywhere unprepared? I haven't left the house without an armed guard in years. ROSE: Is it the libidinous power rush that comes from snapping your fingers at men with guns, or are you worried that you might accidentally do something heroic?

Rose usually has decent snapbacks I guess

I don’t think Rose’s plan was to admit themselves into custody like Jane is asking, but I’m not ruling it out.

> (==>)

(this image is so cute)

JADE: wow could you be any more full of yourself?? JADE: shut the fuck up for a minute and look up!

> (==>)

Ahwhoops.  Jane misunderstood who’s in control of the situation.

> (==>)

Ooh!  That’s threatening.  :)

(Tavros is playing along, but he doesn’t HAVE to fake that sweat.)

KANAYA: If You Make One Single Move I Will Bite Him Directly On The Exterior Shout Tunnel KANAYA:  I Will Turn Your Son Into A Rainbow Drinker KANAYA: Then You Will Have A Rainbow Drinker Son JANE: That's not how troll vampirism works, don't treat me like an imbecile! JANE: You think I don't know everything there is to know about your disgusting biology? KANAYA: KANAYA: Okay Then I Will Just Break His Fucking Neck

HAH

Yeah, mutual child-threat standoff.  Jane isn’t going to make that sacrifice, AND can’t be SEEN making that sacrifice.

> (==>)

Jane Crocker hesitates.

This is something that she used to do regularly. Hesitate. Stop and think and weigh her options. Talk out every possible scenario and the impact they might have, morally and optically and socially. What would the political apparatus think? What would her social media followers think, her friends? As the years went by and she honed her instincts, she found herself doing this less and less.

Yeah, the difference between deserving a Just death or not is whether you’re willing to check yourself and allow another’s will to override your own.  To allow someone who ISN’T you to have a say in how reality unfolds, to consider that what you want may not be right.

The impact that her words made became lessened when spread out across such a wide and thirsty audience, as public sentiment began to swing her way. She stopped thinking about how she would be received, and more about how she could play to the people she knew would receive her favorably. 

Yeesh.  Topical.

Looking up she sees Tavvy with tears in his eyes. Rage and guilt surge inside her. This situation is not her fault.

Anger is based in fear.  Jane is not just afraid for Tavros, but afraid that she’s at fault.  And the more she fears and has to deny that, the angrier she’ll get.

Is it angry enough to make a rash decision here?

> (==>)

JANE: This situation is not my fault! 

Jesus, she even said it out loud?

JANE: I'm the only one who has taken any interest in her upbringing or education! JANE: Or have you forgotten who has been paying for her schooling and taking charge of her introduction into society? JADE: i never asked you to do that! JADE: you offered! JADE: so stop calling me ungrateful for not sucking your dick over things i never asked for!

Taking something that was a clear, ostensibly-selfless gift and using it as a transactional club.  I hate that.  Nothing shows how transparently little you actually believed in the “selfless thing to do” than that.

> (==>)

She can't just stand here and let herself be humiliated, allowing two architects of the insurgency mess her around like this.

If they were to kill Tavros, the entire world would see them commit this war crime. And weighed in the balance, Lalonde and Harley would be off the playing board. Saving your daughter certainly counted as a heroic death, and with the damage they'd done to humanity, it would also probably be just.

Tavros has not called out for her once. Perhaps he knows what her choice was always going to be.

Whoa you made that choice pretty easily, psycho-Jane.  Are you actually gonna try it???

> (==>)

JAKE: Tavvy! 

Oh shit, the plan!  :D

--if Jake isn’t just.  Um.  Taking the threat to Tavvy seriously, not having realized this was a bluff.  Um.  Jake?

> (==>)

That looks like he’s taking it seriously.  Shit.

At least Jane will look like even MORE of a monster if she gives the order this way.

> (==>)

JANE: Stand down!

I don’t think Jake’s gonna listen to you when it comes to Tav’s safety anymore.

> (==>)

JANE: Get out of my sight.

Oh.

Is she letting Jade, Rose and Yiffy go?  --probably, but it’s unclear.

Damn this panel-to-panel framing not conveying what’s going on properly.

Guess that’s it for now!  Patreon Commentary....... I’ve been putting off the commentary backlog for a long time, but I think the Homestuck Commentary coverage deficit still has to wait a while longer because the World Is A Fuck and I have to devote more time to stress relief than usual.  Take care y’all

EDIT: extra bit on gamzee corpse here

[darnedchild]

Take Off Your Bra - SAW 2020 Day 3

Day 3 – Locked in a room/Trapped in a small space/ect

Take Off Your Bra

“This is ridiculous. I can’t believe this is actually happening to me.”  Molly felt like smacking her forehead against the closest wall.  No, actually, she felt like smacking Sherlock’s forehead against the wall.  If anyone deserved to have some sense knocked into them in a painful manner, it was him.

“It’s not my fault,” Sherlock quietly replied.

“I didn’t say it was.” Molly held her tongue for all of three seconds before she broke.  “Although, it really is.”

She couldn’t see him in the pitch-black darkness, but she could hear the indignation in his hissed, “It is not.”

Molly scoffed.  “It wasn’t my idea to sneak into your suspect’s office building in the middle of the night.”

“I couldn’t very well do it in the middle of the day, could I?” Sherlock snapped back.

“I definitely did not ask to be dragged along on your little breaking and entering endeavor,” Molly continued, picking up steam.

“I told you, I needed someone with medical expertise to look at those files; and John is spending the week at his sister’s.”

“I most certainly did not shove myself into a stifling supply cupboard with a trick latch and a bloody stuck door!”  She might have been tempted to stomp her foot if there had been more room.

He drew in a deep breath and made an audible effort to try to defuse the situation.   “I understand that you are upset-“

“Do you?  Do you really?” Molly bit out.  “Because I’m not certain that you do.”

“Trust me, I am absolutely positive that you are upset right now.  You have made that abundantly clear.”

She huffed, then decided there was no point to continuing to argue.  It wouldn’t get them out of the cupboard any faster.  Also, she really hated it when they were cross with each other.

They stood in silence for a few minutes.  Long enough for Molly to have calmed down completely and started to consider different ways to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Take off your bra.”

There was no way he’d said what she’d thought he’d just said.  “Excuse me?”

“Your bra.  Your breasts are more pronounced than usual, indicating the presence of a brassiere designed to maximize cleavage with the assistance of an underwire support system.  Therefore, I need your bra.”

It was just as ridiculous the second time.

“I think you’d be better off with some duct tape if you really want cleavage that bad.  My undergarments are never going to fit you.”

“Hilarious.”  His tone made it obvious he thought it was anything but.

“I thought so.”  Molly could imagine the way he must have been rolling his eyes at that moment, and it made her grin.

“I want the wire.  I may be able to pick use it to open the door from this side.”

As much as she wanted to tell him ‘no’, the thought of getting out of the cupboard was more than she could resist.  “Turn around.”

“Why?  It’s nearly pitch black in here.”  

Molly crossed her arms and stubbornly refused to move.

She heard him grumble something unintelligible under his breath, but he did shuffle around so his back was toward her.  “Fine. I’ve turned round.  Now, can we proceed?”

It took a fair bit of scrambling in the small space to maneuver the undergarment off, but she eventually held it out and wiggled it around until Sherlock took it from her hands. Molly winced as she heard the lacy material rip as he non-too-gently took it apart.  

Sherlock knelt, forcing Molly to press her back to the wall of the cupboard to give him room.  A bead of sweat trickled down her temple.  The light from his phone came on, bright enough to practically blind her; and he handed the phone to her.  “Aim it here.”

She watched him work for a few short moments before her mind began to wander.  “Why were you noticing my breasts?”

The hand holding the improvised lockpick slipped and the wire scratched against the wood around the lock.  “Pardon?”

“It’s not the sort of things friends do, is it?”

He flexed his fingers and went back to work on the lock.

“I don’t pay attention to how perky my friend Meena’s breasts are on any given day.  Unless she asks me to,” she quickly corrected herself. “Sometimes you just want someone to tell you that your breasts look fabulous in that blouse, you know?”

Sherlock continued ignoring her.

“Or maybe you don’t know,” Molly conceded.  “Still, I don’t wander around looking at my guy friends’ crotches, trying to figure out if they look larger than they did the day before.  What is the male equivalent to a push-up bra, anyway?  I suppose it could be a sock?”  She gasped.  “I wonder if anyone I know does it?”

His shoulders tensed and rose up toward his ears as if he were trying to make himself smaller.

She could only interpret that one way.  “No! Oh my God, are you kidding me? Someone does?”

Sherlock pressed his forehead against the door.  “Do we really need to talk about this right now?”

“Yes.  Who has been shoving socks down their drawers?  Is it Mike in radiology?” she mused.  “He seems the type.”

He growled her name in a low warning.  She bit her lip and let the subject drop.  For the moment.

Another thirty seconds passed in silence before she spoke again.  “So… my breasts.”

“Fine!”  Sherlock pushed himself to his feet.  His glare was underlit by the light of the phone that she was still clutching in her hands.  “Yes, I look at your breasts.  I know what they normally look like in the purely functional monstrosities you wear to work.  I know what they look like when you’ve got them trussed up in a fancy bit of lacy like the one I just destroyed.”  His voice began to rise to a dangerous level considering they were still hiding in his suspect’s office and trying to avoid being caught.  “And I especially take note when you lounge around your house in your pajamas without a bra at all!”

Neither one of them dared to move for a long moment.  Molly actually held her breath.  Sherlock looked utterly mortified by his confession.

Eventually, Molly reached out with her free hand and placed it against his chest, over his rapidly beating heart.  “There, that wasn’t so difficult to admit, was it?”

“What?”  Sherlock blinked several times in quick succession. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m a woman, Sherlock.  I know when a guy is checking me out.”  She smiled as if she were about to share a secret.  “You aren’t as subtle as you think.”

Molly pressed his phone into his hand.  “You know, if you can get us out of here, I may be willing to let you see what my breasts look like fresh out of the shower.  For comparison purposes.  If you’re interested.”

He reached behind himself and pushed the flat of his hand against the door.  With only a small hint of protest, the door popped open.  “I meant to tell you the lockpick worked, but I got distracted.”

She stepped out of the cupboard, relieved to be able to spread her arms and stretch again.  “Did you need to look for anything else?”

Sherlock gave the office a cursory look, then shook his head.  “I’ve got everything I need.”

“Are you sure?” Molly asked.

He grasped her hand and pulled her into his arms.  “Very.” His lips brushed against hers in a feather light kiss.  “Shower?”

“That can definitely be arranged.”

[jo--taylor]

just say it || jo + morgan

WHO: Jo Taylor & Morgan Stone WHEN: 2/28/21 WHAT: Jo and Morgan do dinner and wine again.  Jo calls Morgan out for not saying what she wants to say. WARNING: none?

@ofrestlessheartsx

Jo

Jo had invited Morgan for dinner, thinking it was a good way to truly end the week.  She was continuously pleasantly surprised by Morgan’s presence in her life.  They’d been eating and holding good conversation for a good twenty minutes now.  “... so I’ve been spending every Sunday on the beach doing yoga and reading and relaxing and focusing on me.”  She smiled and brought the glass of wine to her lips.

Morgan

Morgan smiled at the words that Jo spoke, glad to hear that she was doing her best to take care of her. "That's really good. I'm proud of you for doing such a good job for yourself." The Switch expressed, nodding her head. And it was true. It was so important that Jo was taking time for herself and healing in a variety of different ways while also moving forward.

Jo

She took in those words and they warmed her a little but not the way they should.  As they got more comfortable together Jo began to notice one thing that Morgan was doing a lot of to compensate for something else she might usually say. This was the second time she’d done it today. A silence settled for a moment and her lips quirked slightly, knowingly, before she looked down to her plate of food and let her fork push around a Brussel sprout.  “You know me,” she said casually, eyes still on her plate, “So I know that you know that I’m not stupid.”  Jo stabbed the sprout with her fork, dark eyes glancing up. “If you’re going to say it then, please, just say it.” She popped the crispy green into her mouth.

Morgan

Morgan glanced at Jo when she spoke, eyebrows furrowing. She was stating something that of course Morgan knew. She had never, in the years of knowing Jo, ever thought that she was stupid. Because she wasn't. The submissive was one of the smartest people Morgan had ever met. So she wasn't really sure what Jo was getting at. At least not until she had finished speaking and had popped the brussel sprout into her mouth. Morgan swallowed harshly, clenching her jaw slightly. She had been doing her best to respect boundaries that Jo had put up, and even ones unspoken. But here Jo was, telling her to say the words. She took a sip of wine, using it to ease her nerves. "You're a good girl for taking care of yourself." Morgan finally breathed out

Jo

Jo took a sip of her wine, nearly black eyes taking in every detail of her former claim.  The realization, the swallow, the slight clench of the jaw, the internal battle behind those eyes, it was beautiful.  And then there were those words that hit her just the way they should.  Her expression softened a little as the warmth settled over her body.  “Thank you, Miss.” It was the first time she’d used her title without it sounding sharp on her tongue, the first time she’d used it since that night in her office where they’d fought.

Morgan

She took in a sharp breath as Jo used her title, eyes scanning over the other's face for a moment before she looked down at her plate. She took a bite of food, using that to ignore how good it was to hear Jo use her title again without using them in a spiteful manner. She swallowed the food and then glanced back up at Jo, offering her a small smile, trying to work through the battling thoughts and emotions.

Jo

The sharp breath hardly went unnoticed, she felt it through her entire body and she shifted ever so slightly in her seat.  Jo returned the smile with a small one of her own and refilled their wine, knowing they could probably both use it, as she struck up an entirely new topic of conversation. Soon enough dinner was done and dishes were cleaned and they found themselves out back by the fire, lounging.  She sipped at her drink.  “One long week down, one more to go and then maybe we can both breathe a collective sigh of relief.”

Morgan

Morgan let out a slow breath but nodded in response. "That would be nice wouldn't it?" The week leading up was always the most challenging but Morgan always pulled it together as best as she could. "Do you...have plans?" Morgan questioned, wondering what Jo's approach to the day would be. Morgan was certain that her approach would be the same as it had been since the night they had lost Blythe.

Jo

"Mm hmm."  She hummed.  It would be so nice if they could finally relax.  She stared at the fire as she sipped at her wine and at the question, her gaze shifted back to the blonde.  "I do.  In New York I typically filled that day and the surrounding ones with non stop work.  Last year it fell on a Friday.  I was here and I found it was more difficult to distract myself,  it proved to be a very hard weekend.  So I asked Dr. Preston to help me."  She released a breath.  "What about you?"

Morgan

Morgan listened to the plans that she had set up for herself for that day and she nodded her head once. "I'm glad that you've found something and someone to help you on that day." The Switch expressed, glancing down at the glass she was holding in her hand when Jo asked her what she was going to be doing. Morgan's roommate had left and so she would once again be completely alone on the day. The truth of the matter was that she would probably get drunk and pass out, but she didn't want to say that to Jo's face. "Maybe I'll try to focus on grading things."

Jo

Jo felt the buzz and the warmth from the wine as they sat there by the fire.  When she got her answer the submissive had to bite into her inner cheek to keep from telling her that she didn’t want her to be alone.  Instead, she reached the short distance between them and tucked a few stray blonde strands behind Morgan’s ear.  “... I’m glad you stayed,” she remarked softly.

Morgan

The touch of Jo's hand as she brushed hair behind her ear was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. She nodded slightly, taking a sip of her wine. "I'm glad that I stayed too." She assured her, glancing at the submissive and smiling just slightly. She reached up and squeezed Jo's hand, always taking whatever little touch that she could, letting go soon after.

Jo

The submissive bit gently into her lower lip when Morgan’s hand found her own and her eyes dropped down to the blonde’s mouth for a moment only glancing up when that hand fell away.  Her own hand fell away gently.  “Being here without your presence has always felt a little off.”  It wasn’t a lie.  Jo had never known a Devereux without Morgan.  She met her even before Blythe.

Morgan

She couldn't deny that she had noticed the way that Jo's eyes found her lips. It was something that Jo had always used to do and it broke her heart a little bit that it happened now. She swallowed against the lump of emotion that was welling within her and listened to Jo's words. "You were really brave for coming here for a permanent job." Morgan may have braved Devereux, but it had originally only been for a couple of months.

Jo

Jo shrugged a little and shook her head.  "Devereux always sort of felt like home to me.  So many memories.  Most of them good.  Hard to stomach after everything that happened? Yes.  But it's also helped me face a lot of my demons I suppose.  In New York I just felt like I was in auto pilot, you know?"

Morgan

Morgan listened to her words and nodded her head in understanding. There were lots of good memories at Devereux. And while they could be painful,  they were also a nice reminder of a time in her life when she had been happier than she could have ever begun to express or ever could have thought she would be. "I understand that and that makes lots of sense. Facing demons...is really why I'm here."March 9, 2021

Jo

Pink lips quirked a little as dark eyes took in the sight of the blonde.  "Now we can face a few together."  Jo was hopeful about the possibility.  They were certainly making progress.  The more time they spent together the less negative tension remained though the more that faded, an entirely new tension took its place.March 10, 2021

Morgan

Morgan hummed thoughtfully at Jo's words before nodding her head in agreement. They had already come so far with one another and she could only hope that things would remain moving in a positive direction. Getting to have Jo in her life, as a friend, after what she had done had seemed like an impossible dream. But that impossible dream now seemed more and more possible.

[allisondraste]

Temperance 32/42

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Story Summary: Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary:    Liss makes an important decision. 

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

[AO3 LINK]

Highever, 9:27 Dragon

Dear Nate,

Every year I tell myself that this will be the last year I write to you, but here I am writing another hopeless letter, wondering if you’ll even read it, wondering if you even care.  I’ve started to question whether you ever cared. This is not how friends treat one another... unless they’re imaginary, of course.

Andraste’s arse.  Nate, are you imaginary?  No, no. My imaginary friends still write to me.

Kidding.

Anyway, I’m sure you’ll be utterly shocked to know that I miss you.  I thought I would stop eventually, but no such luck. The pain dulls each year, but I don’t think it will ever go away completely.  I pray that you are well, and far happier than I am, out on your glorious adventure. I’m envious of you, and I’m envious of those who get to be near you.  

I know I shouldn’t feel that way, that I should be angry and resentful that you’re ignoring me, but that’s not me.  The day I stop caring about you is the day I die. I just wish that weren’t such a lonely thing to feel.

Have a good year, Nate.

Love,

Liss

Liss dropped her quill, and lifted the parchment from her desk, biting her bottom lip as she reread the letter.  More and more tears welled in her eyes with each word, grasp on the page tightening, fingers crumpling the edges.  She debated wadding in up entirely and tossing it into the fireplace. Why not? It would save Nate the trouble of doing it himself. Then again, she was stubbornly devoted to not giving up on him.

Taking a deep breath, she sat the parchment down and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and scrubbing the tears from her cheeks.  Suddenly a chill rushed up her spine as a presence appeared behind her, hot breath on her neck, hands on her arms, a trail of soft kisses from her shoulder to her ear.  

“It’s too early,” whispered a low voice, “Come back to bed.”

She couldn’t remember his name, some second son of some minor lord from some small town in the bannorn,  but he nipped at her ear again, and she bit back the urge to slap him. She’d been a little drunk—and more than a little sad— the night before, and he happened to be visiting Highever, willing and eager to distract and entertain the daughter of one of the most powerful men in Ferelden. Liss had learned that most people were, a fact of which she had taken complete, unapologetic advantage.

“Give me a moment,” she said, painting on a smile and turning around to look at the frustratingly nameless man.  Why couldn’t she have had the decency to remember it? Even without the lens of intoxication that so often made people attractive, he was beautiful.  So much so, that he should have been carved in marble and used as decoration in the home of some posh Orlesian widow. He was tall and fair, with dusty brown curls and green eyes that were perfectly symmetrical, and should definitely be painted on the cover of some risqué book like those Mother kept hidden around the castle, pretending she was discreet.  Liss should have been thrilled at his tender attention, and yet in the dim rays of sunlight peeking through the curtains, he wasn’t who she wanted him to be.

The marble statue man lingered behind her, very obviously attempting to read what she was writing. “A letter?”

“No,” Liss teased, “It’s a shopping list.”

“A shopping list that says ‘Dear Nate’ at the top?” He tilted his head and smiled at her good-naturedly.  Thank the Maker this one actually seemed nice.

Pulling the parchment in toward her chest to protect it from the nosey man Liss asked, “Do you make a habit of reading people’s postage?”

“Just when it is keeping a beautiful woman from lying beside me.” He ran his hand along the side of her face, wiping away a stray tear she’d been unable to dry herself. “And causing her to cry so early in the morning.”

“You noticed.”

“I am an observant man, my lady.”

Relaxing, Liss eased the letter down from her chest and sat it on the desk. “Don’t ever fall in love, uh—“

“Dareios.”

“How could I forget a name like that?”

“We didn’t exactly talk about it.”  Dareios smirked.

“Right,” Liss said, clearing her throat as the heat rushed to her face.  She shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“You’re not the first person I’ve slept with to make myself feel better,” she explained, rising from her chair and turning to face him, “But you’re the first person who’s been kind enough that I feel guilty about it.  So, I apologize. If you wish to leave, and spread horrible rumors about me, I wouldn’t blame you.

“Did it work,” Dareios asked, reaching forward and taking her hands in his.

“What?” She eyed him with confusion and he only smiled, revealing the dimples in his cheeks.

“Did it make you feel better, my lady?”

Liss met his eyes and returned his smile.  “Not really.”

“Then it seems I have not done a proper job.”  He brought her hands up to his lips and pressed a kiss to each of them. “I still have a few hours until I leave, if you’ll have me.”

She knew she should decline, send him on his way, but loneliness echoed in her chest, one name, one person over and over again.  Her heart would hear nothing else. Still, perhaps a kind stranger with a warm embrace and gentle touch could drown it all out for a few more hours, just long enough so that she might feel like herself again. She nodded and closed her eyes, allowing him to move in more closely and kiss her and lead her back to bed.

Then, there was a knock at the door, several haphazard raps followed by a, “Sis?”

Liss shot up, eyes widening and turned to Dareios.  “You have to hide,” she whispered and began to look around the room.

“Why?”

“My family will not be pleased that I slept with another of our guests.” She stood up and pointed at the floor beneath the bed. “Here, you should be able to crawl under here.”

“Are you serio—“

Liss shushed him and pressed a finger to his lips.  “Please?”

He laughed and crawled out of bed, and she realized he was wearing nothing but his smalls—even more incriminating were Fergus to find him.  He got down on the floor and slid under the bed. It was a tight squeeze, but it would only be a moment. At least, she hoped.

“Liss, I know you’re in there,” Fergus called through the door, “Open up.”

“Coming,” she shouted as she grabbed a robe, tied it around her, and rushed to answer the door.  She swung it open forcefully and glared at her brother, unable to hide her annoyance. “Can’t a girl take a bath in peace?”

Fergus grinned and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Oh, is that what we’re calling it these days?”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” she huffed indignantly.

“The visiting Bann is looking for his son,” he said, words pointed directly at her.

“Are you suggesting that I would know where he is?”  It was a flimsy defense, and she knew it.

“ Liss. ”

“ Fergus.”

“I am only suggesting that if you happen to see him— oh, I don’t know— when he crawls out from under your bed, it might be a good idea to tell him to find his father before his father finds him,” Fergus raised his eyebrows and lowered his voice, “And before our parents find him.”

Liss nodded slowly, looking her brother directly in the eyes, and he offered her a reassuring smile as a promise her secrets were safe with him.  They always had been. “If I see him, I will certainly let him know.”

“I will do my best to make sure your future baths are not interrupted.”

“Thank you, brother.”

“Don’t mention it.”

With that, Fergus turned and walked back down the corridor leaving Liss to close the door.  Behind her she could hear Dareios crawling from under the bed and shuffling about, most likely in search of his clothes.  

“I suppose you heard that,” Liss asked giggling as she turned to face the now half-dressed man.

“I did,” he replied with a sheepish smile,  as he laced up his breeches, “My father seems to have forgotten that I am no longer a little boy.”

Liss sighed. “I know how that feels more than you know.”

Dareios pulled on his shirt and sat down on the edge of the bed to pull on his stockings and boots. “Your brother seems to be a good man.”

“He’s always had my back, even when I’m completely wrong, totally reckless, and having my back is the worst idea,” she admitted, “He’s the best.  But don’t tell him I said so.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said earnestly as he finished lacing up his last boot.  He stood and walked over to Liss, placing his hands first on her shoulders before bringing them up to cradle her face. “You are a beautiful person, Lady Elissa, inside and out. The only thing I regret about our night together is that there won’t be another.”

Liss’ breath hitched in her throat, and she fought back the tears that welled in her eyes.  He was perfect, in every single way. She should have been begging him to stay, she should have promised him another night, many other nights. Yet, she couldn’t.  She was neither worthy nor wanting of perfect. Instead, she smiled and brought one of her hands up to cover his. “Thank you for spending time with me Lord Dareios.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said, kissing her forehead before taking his hands from her face and moving to exit the room. He stopped in the doorway and turned back to face her.  “I hope that ‘Nate’ of yours wakes up and realizes what a treasure he has.”

“I am no treasure, but I appreciate your words all the same,” Liss said weakly, “Thank you.”  

She waved as he left, and closed the door quietly behind him, pressing her back to it and sliding down until she sat on the ground.  She let her face fall to her hands, tears dripping from her eyes. It would be so much easier for her if she could just love someone else, but she did not know where to start, or how. Her first and only experience with love had happened so organically and subtly, it had woven itself into every part of her life that it was impossible to tell where it began or when it ended.  She could not even be bothered to consider another person, even a person as wonderful as Dareios was.

This was Nate’s fault, she thought, looking up and catching a glimpse of the bow her family had crafted for him propped up in the corner of the room.  If he could just write her back, and tell her once and for all that he didn’t love her. If he could just confirm that he found her letters annoying and unwelcome.  If he could just be blunt and honest for once in his life, then maybe, just maybe she could let him go. As it was, she knew him too well to be so certain that his silence meant rejection.  She’d seen his face light up too many times when she’d forced herself into his presence after he’d told her to go away to think that the same couldn't happen still. Sacrifice of her dignity though it may be, she knew she wouldn’t let go or move on truly until he released her.  Thus, her current agony was his doing alone, and the realization allowed for anger where before there’d been only sadness. Damn him.

Liss stood abruptly and rushed to the desk, pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, and penned an entirely new letter to Nate.

Dear Nate,

Every year I tell myself that it will be the last year I write a hopeless letter to you as if  you will read it. Every year, I tell myself that even if I don’t hear from you, it still matters.  It’s something I should do as your friend, and as someone who cares about you. I am writing to you this time, to tell you that I won’t be doing that anymore.  I am tired of writing letters into the void and wondering if you still care about me like I still care about you.  

This is not how friends treat one another, Nate.  You know that. I can’t even begin to understand how someone I grew up with, someone who I’ve known my whole life could ignore me.  Unless it was all a lie. Unless you were just some figment of my imagination. Andraste’s arse.  Are you imaginary?

Kidding.

Anyway, I’m sure you’ll be utterly shocked to know that I miss you.  I thought I would stop eventually, but no such luck. The pain dulls each year, but I don’t think it will ever go away completely.  I pray that you are well, and far happier than I am, out on your glorious adventure. I’m envious of you, and I’m envious of those who get to be near you.

If you ever decide that you care about me after all, you know how to reach me.  

I wish you all the best.

Love,

Liss

With one quick read of the letter, feeling confident in her words, Liss folded it  and placed it in an envelope for Papa to send out later. She threw on a shirt and breeches that hung so loosely she knew they must have been old clothes that Fergus had grown out of.  Good enough, since she was in no mood to be uncomfortable in some dress. Then, she trudged over to the corner of the room, picked up his bow, and headed out into the corridor.  

It took no time for her to reach Nate’s room, or at least the one that used to be his.  For so long, it had been a place of refuge and comfort for her, yet it had been so long since she’d even visited it. She couldn’t bring herself to go inside and only see ghosts of him, shadows of his smell, the dusty untouched books, the chest that still had a few of his things in it. She’d feared it would overwhelm her if she opened the door, as if a wave of sadness would burst forth from behind the wood and drown her.  She would not be scared anymore. She’d leave his bow there, with all the other disparate pieces of him and close it away, out of sight unless she wanted to see it again.

Gripping the bow so tightly her knuckles turned white, Liss entered the room.  It looked exactly as it had the last time she’d been in it. Tidy. Empty. Cobwebs collected in corners and the sconces were all flameless. She sat the bow down on the bed and grabbed a torch from the hall to light those in the room.  She walked about the space, taking everything in, remembering the times she’d spent sitting on the floor with him, talking, laughing, crying. She remembered the night they first met. She remembered all the times she’d come there to hide from the world, to just be herself.  

Plopping down on the edge of the bed, she took the bow in her hands once  more, running her fingers along the engravings in the wood, the letter “N.” Anger swelled in her chest and she tightened her grasp around the bow.  She’d done nothing but care for him, and she knew it wasn’t his choice to leave, but he couldn’t even have the decency to write her back. He left her hanging out on a limb for him and her arms were getting so tired.  She still loved him and yet she was so angry with him and it felt so much better than empty. She held the bow up and out in front of her before slamming it down against her knee. It snapped in half, and she tossed it across the floor.

Almost immediately, she regretted it, as she stared at the jagged pieces of wood, once whole, now connected only by the string attached to each piece. It could be repaired, of course.  All of the parts were still there, but it was no longer what it was, and it would never be the same again. It was oddly poetic.

This was the kind of situation where Liss would have typically cried, dropping her head and letting the sobs shake her body, but she couldn’t.  She felt numb, as if by breaking that bow, she had broken herself completely. She sat staring blankly at the stone of the floor for sometime, until there was a polite knock at the door before it swung open.  It was Fergus, again, Oren in his arms and Bear at his side.  

Bear immediately pushed past the door and sat near the bed, tilting his head and looking up at Liss.  Oren shouted “Auntie,” and Fergus let him down so that he could run to her. Smiling vacantly, she picked him up and sat him on her lap.  

“I think Bear saw you come in here.  Wouldn’t let me have any peace ‘til I let him in. Oren wanted to tag along,” Fergus said with a laugh, and then he noticed the broken bow on the ground, eyes widening before he looked back up at her. “You okay, Liss?”

“No,” she answered flatly, wrapping one arm around Oren tightly, cuddling him up close to her until he giggled.  With her free hand she reached down to pet Bear. “But I will be.”

It was not only an acknowledgement of the one-way trajectory that led from rock bottom, but also a promise to herself, to her family, that the past would be exactly what it was meant to be: the past.

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 54: Give A Reason

Chapters: 54/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: none Relationships: Loki x Reader (Getting There) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor(Marvel) Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), How Do I Love Thee, Let Me Count The Ways. One: That Bangin’ Ass, Two-

Loki explores his feelings.

Loki was over the moon.

“She cares about me, Thor. Me specifically.” He was practically wiggling in smug excitement. “She confessed it to me, herself.”

“So you have said, brother. Several times. In the past hour.” Thor said, leafing through a book about metalurgy. “I am glad for you. This is progress in several ways.”

“Yes. She is coming to see my obvious superiority as a potential consort.”

“Possibly. I meant more that you are becoming someone that a human from her country could care about. That you are progressing, as a person. Look at all of the things you have been doing lately. Caretaking mortals, participating in their justice system, housing them, defending them. You know. Like a benevolent god.”

“I...” Loki paused. “I suppose I've come full circle, haven't I?”

“You're starting to see them as they are. We ignored them for so long, encouraged everyone else to do so as well. We didn't see them as they are, and it's one of Asgards lasting flaws.” Thor said. “We don't see anyone as they are. Look at these humans. Look at everything they have accomplished in their short time. For better and for worse. It's amazing. You're seeing them now, like I do. As people. People worthy of respect, of admiration. Of protection. Of love.”

“I still do not understand them. Do you think there is anything more I can do?”

“Stick with one project at a time.” Thor suggested. ���You like to think big, but Earth is bigger still, and it will overwhelm you. Your longhouse project is a hit; stick with it until it is done.”

“I am thinking of asking the general populace for volunteers to help with the building.” Loki said. “I know all of our dedicated builders are tied up with city projects right now, but anyone who has time to spare and an interest in doing so, should be able to do simple things, like hauling soil, or stacking stones. Most of all, I want mingling. I want human and Asgardian to become acclimated to one another. It's going to happen sometime, so it might as well be soon. We should be building our bridges as early as possible.”

“Hm. I'm inclined to agree, though I think there should be some regulations. Einherjar to watch over them-”

“Perhaps a joint human-einherjar force?” Loki suggested. “Humans may never be able to match Asgardians, but they could still benefit from training with us.”

“Hm. You're right. However, humans tend to favor weapons like guns.”

“Yet we have both worked with a man who specialized in the use of a bow, and was far superior to most gunmen.”

“I think worked 'with' is a bit of a stretch on your part, brother.” Thor pointed out.

Loki rolled his eyes. “Yes, well.” He huffed. “All I am saying is that we know humans can learn to be extremely proficient in weapons that aren't guns. I do not believe the Icelandic government would allow us to authorize the use of firearms for non-Asgardian citizens anyway. But they have not disallowed the axes and swords that Trolekaerhalla brought with them, so I am assuming those are still legal.”

“Outside city limits, anyway.”

“Outside Icelandic city limits.”

Thor closed his book. “Oh, damn. I just thought of something.”

“I do not believe you.”

“Ha ha. We are thinking of building a permanent human settlement. On land that has not yet been granted to us.”

“Oh damn!” Loki echoed. “I keep thinking of that area as already granted, rather than 'potentially granted in the future, if expansion warrants it'.” What was 'future' to humans, was 'tomorrow' to them.

“We will have to consult the embassy.”

Loki groaned. The 'embassy' consisted of a cluster of small buildings across the river and to the north, from which a farm was also seasonally run. It was staffed by a rotating roster of minor officials, whose job was to 'oversee' Asgardian building and regulate their impact on the local environment. They were not particularly troublesome, and, except for a near obsessive concern with the health of the fens and the river, they did not bother Asgard with all that many demands. But it was an absolutely galling reminder of their fallen status that the king of the Shining Realm had to ask permission for anything, and from such minor officials.

There was an element of helplessness and subordination involved, and Loki despised it. They were going to need to accrue power quickly, if they were going to create and maintain relevance in this realm.

“I'll get a messenger ready.” He said.

“No, I'll go myself.” Thor offered. “Bring some clout to the conversation. Unless you'd like to go? You could bring your little lady with you, get her some experience in things like this.”

“Perhaps. That reminds me; I should send her father a gift.”

“You are getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?” Thor teased. “You haven't even asked for her hand yet.”

“Not like that, you wag!” Loki exclaimed. “It's just that when we first brought _____ here, we did not know that it was going to be permanent. But it is. We have found no cure yet for our co-dependent weakness. In that light, I have essentially taken his daughter from him, and into our household, so I owe him. You know that. Isn't that why you sent all that junk to Dr. Selvig?”

“Erik is not Jane's father, and it wasn't junk!” Thor protested. “It was Asgardian objects that were no longer needed!”

Loki gave him a long look.

“I see your point though. Perhaps you should send a gift.”

“Hm. Her father is a peasant who spends most of his time in a confined space with a cat. What would be suitable for such a man?” Loki pondered.

“No weapons.” Thor said. “No armor. Not only could he not make use of them, but customs would confiscate them immediately.”

“Surely a knife...” Loki began, but Thor shook his head. “Very well. Cloth? A bolt of fine silk, or linen. Wool? Surely we can provide something better than wool.”

“It's not a troth gift, Loki. Send him some cotton, and call it a day. There is no need to overthink this.”

“A careless gift can become an insult.” Loki said. “It may not be a troth gift, but I still want to convey to the man that I place his daughter at a high value, and that I haven't just absconded with her as if she were otherwise worthless. Perhaps I shall go with the linen. Or a heavy cotton. _____ tells me that her Iowa becomes very hot in the summer, and very cold in the winter. He could make use of both.”

“I do not think that anyone who has laid eyes on you lately could believe that you do not value her.” Thor teased. “Though some of the more jealous among them might wonder why she compels you so.”

“That is their loss. If they cannot see her many virtues, it is not up to me to enlighten them, though I might choose to do so anyway.”

“You have a list?”

“She has many virtues.”

“That is something I have been meaning to ask you about.” Thor said. “The nature of your affection for her. Where it springs from.”

“Are you questioning my feelings again?” Loki asked defensively. It was something Thor had been doing a lot these past few years. Loki realized that it was good for him to explore his emotions; a thing he was admittedly terrible at doing for himself. But when someone prodded him about it...

Well, he wasn't happy about it, but with someone guiding him, he could analyze internal issues that he would never have allowed himself to touch on his own.

“It is good for me to love my seidkona.” He said. “I'll be able to open up to her like I need to. This way, you don't need to shoulder the whole burden of my odious emotional instability.”

“It's not that much a burden. And you are being evasive.” Thor said.

“Of course I am.” Loki shot back. “I...I guess I'm just pleased to find that I am still able to feel this way at all. I do not wish to examine it too closely and find that it is somehow false.”

“Oh, I do not doubt it is real, and neither should you. Your feelings are your feelings, no matter what. What I believe we should examine is from whence these feelings have sprung, then we might better know how to proceed. That is, if you want to proceed.”

“Yes, I want to proceed!” Loki said. “Of course I want to proceed! The desire consumes every moment that I do not distract myself with something else.”

“Well, talk to me about it.” Thor prodded. “Do you know why you love her so? Is is guilt?”

“What? No!” Loki scoffed. “Any guilt I feel is completely separate from all this.”

“So this has nothing to do with effectively destroying her life, and taking her from everything that she loves and taking her from everyone that loves her. And that's absolutely not why you shower her with attention and prestige, and want to send a gift to her father. No guilt over what you did there. That's not why you want to build homes for Trolekaerhalla, in leu of helping to rebuild New York. Guilt absolutely does not drive your actions there either. I see.”

“Any guilt I feel is...partially separate from this.” Loki amended, face burning. “But it's not the only reason. I feel like she deserves much more than the world has allotted her, myself included. I see a potential in her that I would never have guessed hid in the depths of humankind.”

“Humans have caused you much trouble in the past.” Thor pointed out. “The Hulk flung you about like a toy, the Captain held his own in battle with you.”

“The Hulk is a special case.” Loki said. “All of your little company are. Or, at least, I used to think so. But she had nothing, you understand? No advantage. She hadn't the hoard of wealth, nor the high education, nor the job with a powerful organization, nor the exposure to scientific innovations that all of your Avengers did. And yet, she is this. If this potential exists in her, the most common of humans, might it be in them all? Fascinating. Horrifying. And so, so intriguing.

But that's not the only reason either. Outside of my feelings regarding her species and magic, she has great virtues of her own. Her mind is hungry, so much so that I fear if I were not by her side, her curiosity would lead her to destruction. She doesn't lack ferocity or courage when they are needed, but she also balances that with such compassion. I find that impressive, with everything she's been through.”

“It doesn't have anything to do with her being the only woman to show you affection in some time?”

Loki's face went even redder. “No...There were a few on Sakkar...but I refused their advances.”

“Really? Why?” Thor remembered the people of Sakkar as being very odd, but not altogether repulsive.

“Lack of trust, and a distinct cultural difference. To them, the fact that they could be exiled or executed at literally any moment led them to a hedonistic, live-in-the-moment lifestyle. Nothing meant anything to them. They didn't truly care about anything, and couldn't be trusted for anything.

But _____ cares. She cares about so much. Things have meaning to her, as they have to me. Maybe none of our troubles would have come about if I just hadn't cared so damn much. But I do. And that care has gathered her up into it now, wrapped like a cloak about her shoulders. I can no longer see myself without her.”

“Yes, you were besotted mere days after meeting her.” Thor pointed out. “Perhaps you were just ready. You are getting to that age where a man wishes to settle down and think of family.”

“I am younger than you!”

“Barely. But...That is another thing to think about. You will need to tell her.”

Loki pressed his lips together tightly, making an irritated sound through his nose. He knew that. He wasn't going to do it, not until he couldn't put it off any longer.

“Have you been looking at yourself? Like Sjofn suggested?”

“Yes, but I still don't see the point. I find it no less repulsive for looking upon it more often.”

Thor shrugged. “Sjofn has always been wise when it comes to these kinds of things. You know.”

“I know. I just don't see it, that's all. I wish I did.”

“Maybe _____ will. Speaking of, do you have any plans?”

“Your party is very soon. I thought I might dance with her.”

“And?”

“And make nice with your Avengers. Or at least try to. I feel Stark shall never be friendly with me, but she might be impressed. I would like to kiss her, should she allow it. The last time was...not ideal. I can do better.”

“She makes you want to do better?”

Loki nodded, and Thor smiled.

“I think that is how it is supposed to work.”

                                                                          ******

You swept the fancy green dress Loki had given you in wide circles around the room. There was going to be a party tonight! People were already arriving: Tony Stark had landed an advanced aircraft right on top of the former site of the militant camp, and he had brought others with him. More had come across the river. They were all unmasked, and causing great excitement in the city. Saldis had been talking about it nonstop.

You were starting to get the impression that she had a special interest in humans.

She helped you dress and did your hair, blabbing about their fashion, and strangeness, and beauty. Perhaps Andsvarr was going to have some competition soon.

You had worn this dress before, but only for Loki. It was still scandalously low-cut, in your opinion, but easily the fanciest thing you'd ever owned. Of course, this was going to be a fancy party, so you had to be dressed your best.

What did one do at a fancy party? Waltz about in a great big ballroom? Eat little appetizers off silver trays? Or did the rich and powerful get completely faced just like everybody else?

You'd probably better warn everyone about the crystal mead.

“These are the most important people of your world. Do you think they would speak with a servant?” Saldis asked anxiously.

“What? Of course!” You said, putting on some of your personal jewelry. It was cheap and fake, but you didn't honestly see how anyone could tell the difference. Besides, your dad had gotten you most of this, for birthdays and Christmases over the years. That was the real treasure, wasn't it? “I mean, they talk to me every week, and I'm a nobody.”

“How is it that you still think that?”

“Habit, I guess.” You shrugged. “I've never felt like I really meant anything before, and it's hard to adjust my thinking. It sorta comes and goes; one moment I feel proud of everything I've done, and the next I feel like a complete impostor.”

“I understand that. They warn us not to fall for the nobles, because we wouldn't know how to live their lives, but I feel like that's a sham so the nobles can keep their sons and daughters as bargaining chips in political marriages. But that shouldn't be a problem anymore.” She added, noticing your disgusted expression. “Allfather Odin started phasing that out before I was born, and it seems like Allfather Thor is going to continue his work.”

“His Highness is in accord.” You said. “He told me so. It still grosses me out though. But if you want to go talk to some Avengers, I don't see why you shouldn't. Besides, aren't you kind of falling for a noble yourself?”

Saldis cleared her throat. “Well. If it works out, yes. But if it doesn't, neither of us are exactly hurting for potential suitors. It's just that we like each other best. Just like you and the prince.”

You sputtered. “What? No, we're not-”

“It's fine, everybody knows.” Saldis said. “I heard the Valkyries gossiping about it, and the general didn't tell them to stop. That's how you know that she knows it's true.”

“Everybody doesn't know anything.” You insisted. “Me and Loki aren't a thing.”

“Which is why he had that dress made for you, and why you moon at him every time you think no one is looking. Someone's always looking.”

“I don't moon...” You said. “Wait what was that about the dress?”

“It's very fine. A courtier's dress, to reflect your position as advisor, that you belong in the court with him. That's quite a statement. If you ask me, he's been making that statement for some time.”

“No way.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. The prince has always been hard to read, but the emotion that he does show seems quite genuine.”

“You really think so? Other people think so?” There was no way. But if it was true, if it was true...certain things were falling into place. But there was no way, was there? No way it could work. You couldn't dare to hope.

Could you?

[lilcutieana]

Safe Haven ~10 ( Hybrid Baby Bangtan/ ot7 )

Words: 2.4K Genre: Fluff with slight Angst, Hybrid! BTS AU Rating: PG-13 Warnings - None Summary: Some days just end up horrible. 

Safe Haven ~ || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine

══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ═══════

I checked my watch for the-- most likely-- twelfth time in the past ten minutes I'd been here waiting, all the while tapping my feet to the non-existent music. With a little red-wrapped present sitting idle in front of me, mocking me every time I glance down at it, I bit my lip in consideration.

Was it all even worth it?

Yes. Yes, it was.

He was phenomenal. Everything about him was captivating. From the delicate way, he handled things, to his eye for precision. From the slight hunch to his walk to the mild woody scent he wore. He calmed me, he made me happy and feel like I was more important than just a caregiver. He reminded me that I was more deserving than what I let myself believe. And for that, I was eternally grateful to have met him five years back in a parent-teacher meeting at the Hybrid High for the Gifted.

That is… Until I saw how happy the mated couples, Jin and Hobi were. I had to doubt my own relationship. It wasn't the same, but then again, I was human and incapable of feeling such profound emotions. I wasn't jealous per say. Not of what others in my own home had...or so I have been trying to convince myself. But I know, deep down, in my heart; I've been pining for someone.

Though the kids formed a major part of my world, there's this tiny part of me that longs for someone. Someone more than family, someone more than a friend. Shaking my head from negative thoughts, I looked around the once bustling cafe. A few patrons huddled together like penguins near the window. They looked adorable in their pastel clothes, while I had been constantly wearing mostly black and grey tones for the past few months, reflecting my dark mood. 

Guess Monday mornings weren't as busy of an affair as other days. The students and office workers choosing a more commercial setting over the quaint cafe making it harder for the little businesses around in town. The bittersweet aroma of coffee beans helped soothe my jittery nerves yet the mere idea of being stood up eating away what little patience I'd had. But I trusted my instincts. 

He seemed good enough. He was good enough. He had a beautiful soul, he was someone I could envision myself spending rest of my life with. And… Yes. 

I'd been dating guys. For a while now. But nothing seemed to quite work. For the most part, it was mostly because of me. I was dating guys to distract myself, to tell myself I needed someone. But did I really? Not exactly. I couldn't back then. The boys were of utmost priority to me. I didn't have enough money or time to spend on myself neither did I have the energy to motivate myself enough to actually put an effort in it. For the most part, my heart wasn't truly into it. And I'd decided not to ever do something that my heart didn't want but my brain thought it's a good idea. It probably never is. 

Sighing, I shook my head and glared at my watch for moving too slow. And just then I caught a glimpse of bright orange, bordering on neon; pass by the window. Blinking once, twice, thrice… I was flabbergasted. Who'd in this day and age choose to wear something that colorful? Were they trying to replace the traffic signal? Or signal the bears to hunt them? 

And then it clicked. It was him. And something was wrong. He wouldn't just be late, neither would he be running across the street, away from me. Letting my half-eaten croissant and a cold cup previously hot cocoa to fend for themselves; I dashed across the checkerboard tiled floor, merely escaping from crashing into strangers and the many trays and cups they carried. Skidding to half with an audible screech from my heels, guaranteeing their demise-- I looked around for a sign of bright orange but couldn't spot anything, anywhere at all. 

The door to the cafe shut behind me with a bang. Startled, I yelped and closed my eyes as every eye was staring at me in exasperation and angry frowns. I know, that wasn't quite polite of me in this early of a morning. But I sure had my reasons! 

Biting my lips, I looked to my right. As far as I could. And spotted a tiny crowd forming just across the street and sure enough, he was there. With a new purpose, I almost glided across the street. With angry stomps, of course. 

I was mad. Not really, I was mostly just concerned, and... I don't even know what I was feeling at the moment. But it was frustrating. He didn't even bother telling me. Was chasing someone and standing in a crowd so important? I waited for about an hour! Or maybe less… It sure felt like an hour to me. 

As I reached him. I blinked once, twice, even thrice and proceeded to even wipe my eyes! And yet, the sight before me was no different. He had beautiful snow like ears. And no, it wasn't just the colour, it was in how soft and fluffy the looked. My fingers were trembling from restraining myself, lest I touched him when he clearly hid his ears from the entire world for nearly half a decade. I wondered if he even was aware that his identity was there to see by everyone. 

Did it matter? Or was I the only one who didn't know he wasn't completely human. 

And his eyes! They were shining like molten silver. Intense and oh so fiery. And the reason was staring him in the eyes, their gaze solemn and defeated as they laid on the ground whimpering. 

It reminded me why I had an immense crush on him in the first place. It was those eyes. They demanded attention. They demanded so many things… as soon as they were focused on you. Maybe I spoke to soon. Cause the next thing I knew, those shining eyes were focused right on me. I felt rooted to the spot, unable to even form a smile. I just stared at him as he raised his right eyebrow and slowly blinked-- just like a certain cat I was overly familiar with back at home. 

I was about to blink back, smile at him too, that is… Until my eyes focused on the well-manicured ruby red talons on his arm which were showing absolutely no signs of letting go anytime soon. I was… Confused. Did he perhaps… Save her? Was that why she was clinging onto him? There sure was a crowd forming, and a supposed --criminal-- on the streets being glared at. Or was this something else entirely? I just couldn't blame him. He was gorgeous, who wouldn't want to glue themselves onto him. 

But… Why today? Why when he was supposed to be with me? 

We aren't official the little voice in my head sure knew what I needed to hear. Sure, we weren't. And he was open to dating more people until he knew who the “the one” for him. But At Least, I deserved to know if I was being stood up. 

A sharp pang of pain went through my chest. Past insecurities bubbling up on the surface. I couldn't keep the eye contact I'd held with him any longer. Everything around me began to be blurred.

Tears. I was crying over a man who knew me for a little over five years and yet kept silent after making me wait an hour like a fool. Wiping under my eyes, I took a step back. And then another. Watching how his stance changed. Watching how his shoulders sagged. And then, I shook my head. I didn't want him closer. I didn't want his scent on me. I didn't want to hear his voice. My traitorous heart couldn't take it if he made some excuses. I wasn't strong enough. Not now. Not when my mind was absolute chaos. I needed to think. I needed a moment before my thoughts drowned me and I had already taken the dive. I just needed to breathe, I just had to breathe. 

“Y/N! Wait…” He screamed. And as if my body was on little strings and he was the puppeteer; my feet stopped on their own accord and I looked him in the eyes once again. The same anguish reflected on his face that probably mirrored mine.

 “Why…?” 

Did you not come, did you even remember? Did you even care? Did you even want to see me? Do I even matter? A plethora of questions flashed my mind and how I wished I could say out loud, but my lips were tied as he enveloped me in his warm embrace, his caffeine induced sweater a warm welcome to my frantic nerves. His every breath calming my mind and helping me breathe. When he tried letting me go, I shouldn't have held onto him tighter, I should have been the one to let go first. But my arms had a mind of their own and they clutched onto him tighter. My ears didn't want to hear the people gasping around and leaving the scene. I didn't want to hear how the girl right behind his back was cursing at him. I didn't want to see anything. Just a little more, and I can let him go. 

“I'm sorry, Y/N. I'd… I...I am...” He whispered in a resigned tone. His voice huskier from holding back tears, perhaps? Was I hurting him that much? Or was he reflecting my emotions? 

“Why?” I murmured into his sweater, hoping he would tell me it was nothing but a huge misunderstanding. 

“I found her. She's my mate. I...” I couldn't hear anything more. My ears were ringing. My heart drumming inside my head. And just one word and an image flashed across my mind. 

Mate. They were mates. 

Of course. 

He was a hybrid. He'd have one. One that isn't me. I was never a priority. I never would probably be. It was like a splash of ice cold water over my head. I… Couldn’t take it anymore. Stepping back from his embrace as he continued whispering apologies. I hoped they were apologies. I shook my head and somehow managed a smile. Barely. I'm sure it was faker than the mistletoes hanging around every Christmas. Chuckling to myself, at my own luck, I looked up to the sky. How was I supposed to know? How am I supposed to react? Do I just say ‘it's okay, congratulate him, and what? Move on?’ 

It wasn’t that easy. I wasn't as strong. I'd only started to let myself fall for him. His eyes, his scent, his voice. The way he said my name, the way he always wore mismatched shoes, or how he sometimes ate with his left hand instead of right. How he liked ketchup over scrambled eggs and how he hated fries without seasoning. He was adorable in every way. And yet so strong. So determined. So... Lovely. 

And yet… It wasn't me. I wasn't the one he waited for. I wasn't the one he saved. I wasn't the one he loved. “Did you ever…” choking back a sob, I looked to the side. His eyes too intense for me. “love me?” 

“I still do. I love you, Y/N!” He shook his head and with a giant step, was towering over me once again. I felt so small. I felt like he was about to swallow my entire being. He shouldn't have said that. He was lying. Why was he lying? 

“But I just found her today, and my heart feels confused. I need time to figure things out. Please… I’m just as torn as you are. Believe me.” 

“Lies. All lies.” I bit my trembling lips. “I have seen mates. Nothing is instant. You don't even realize until you've spent enough time. You're lying!” I snarled. Panting, I shut my eyes. I didn't want to see him anymore. So what if I wasn't a hybrid. I have seen Jin and hoseok with their mates so often, I know what it's like. It's them and their flaunting of how sweet relations are that I had found a sweet escape. And yet….

“Noona!” 

My chaotic mind was finally at rest. And this time, it was because of Namjoon. I was glad somehow. And a bit annoyed. He must have followed me. A kind, gentle hand encircled my shoulder and pulled me into a warm chest. From his scent alone, I could tell it was Jimin. Smiling to myself, I didn't bother turning back. 

“I know how much a mate means to a person. Keep her happy.” 

◤─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────◥ 

“Whaf ‘appened?” Jungkook asked with his mouth stuffed with marshmallows. Now I know where they went. It wasn't Jimin. It was kookie who stole it all. 

“Bad day. Come here.” Extending my arms, I waited till he came closer and then held him by the ear. Even though it was soft and silky, and I was yearning to pet them, I refrained myself. 

“Why did you lie when I asked the other day?” I asked sternly. Trying my best not to smile as I watched him squirm. 

“Yeah! It wasn't me, Noona! See…” Jimin piped up from behind. 

“I know now.” Smiling, I let go of Jungkook’s now pink flushed ears and ruffled Jimin’s hair until his pout turned to a smile only for it to drop as soon as Yoongi entered the room. 

There was always slight tension between the two ever since they entered puberty. I just hoped it didn't last too long.

“So…” 

Looking around, I spotted the flier Namjoon had collected a while back and smirked. 

“How about we order in today?” A chorus of excited yeses made me smile. 

Some things never change. And I couldn't be happier. This was my own safe Haven. Nothing. Absolutely nothing would damage it. I'd always be happy and safe, as long as the boys were with me. They would be. Won't they?

               ══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ═══════

~Tagged ~

@dreadity  @im-emo-motherfuckers @xanny91 @oyasumi7@blackmaylovesfries   @catkiecookie @noonaofkookie  @thenyousaidhello  @silveroccamy @boononx@2seokkyo @s0nh4dorasblog  @minyoongi-infiresme  @bluebirdphantom  @love-yourself-moonchild 

[writehardwhumpharder]

Suits fic.

So this ended up pretty long, I got a little carried away. I’m not even sure if tumblr will let me post it. I hope you guys like suits as much as I do. Prompt: Okay can I see, like, early Mike just started working at the firm and he's trying to keep up with Harvey's almost non-stop schedule and ends up sick but tries to keep going? Cue "annoyed" (but actually worried) Harvey?

Mike eyed himself in the mirror subconsciously wearing his too-cheap suit, and too-skinny tie. His first couple days had gone well enough, but now he knew what was expected of him and boy was he out of his depth. Sure he could recite the Harvard law book by memory, but that didn’t help much with all the little nuanced details each draft needed. He slipped his files into his bag and slung it over his shoulder then grabbed his bike to lug down the stairs over his head.

By the time he reached the Pearson Hardman building his heart was racing, and not from the 3 miles he just biked through traffic. What the actual hell did I get myself into? he wondered. Mike had made sure to get to the office 40 minutes early in hopes that he’d have time to review the files Louis requested to be done by this morning, but when he got to the office every other associate was already at their cubicles. Only the senior partners weren’t there yet and even they got there a fashionable 15 minutes early. Mike had hardly sat down when Donna came bustling past the cubicles.

“Harvey wants these by lunch but if you’re pressed for time, do this one first. He needs it for a client meeting at 1:15pm which you should attend by the way.” She was gone before he could say good morning. She winked at him as she walked away, making him feel a little better about the cut and dry work of a major law firm. Thank god Louis had taken one good look at him and deemed him capable of only the simplest of cases. He meant it as an insult but on a day like this, he took it with a genuine smile. Before getting buried in his work, Mike opted to take a quick trip to the coffee machine, knowing that for the next few hours he’d be glued to his work station.

The morning went by quickly but Mike managed to finish the file Harvey needed and the easy cases Louis gave him. Despite a few things he had to do for Harvey, he was pretty proud of what he’d been able to finish. It was 1pm the next time Mike looked up from his work, almost time to go meet Harvey. Reading the small print for hours on end was starting to make his eyes sore so Mike was grateful for a short break from it, even if it is just to talk to a client. Mike rubbed his eyes as he crossed the room holding the stack of papers he had prepared. Harvey emerged from his office and wasted no time flipping through the papers.

“Um, good morning. Or afternoon…” Mike mumbled.

“Yeah okay, these are fine but they could be a little cleaner.” Harvey commented, clearly distracted. Mike felt his shoulders sag in mild defeat. For his first week of work “fine” was pretty damn good, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was slaving over files only to stay invisible. Harvey looked up long enough to read his associate’s face. “You know you’re doing really well competing against a bunch of people who actually went to law school.” Harvey teased in a low voice so no one might overhear them. Mike trailed after him towards the conference room already rehearsing in his head what he would say to the client if he had to speak.

Turns out he didn’t. Harvey introduced them both and Mike shook the man’s hand but apart from that he was mostly there to observe and supply information. Mike would hand Harvey a paper with the most important details highlighted every so often as they discussed legal concerns over a faulty product.

“Don’t worry Dave, we’ll stay on top of this. We’ll find a way to cover this long before anyone can file against your company. It’s not my area of expertise but I would suggest issuing a press release with this information as soon as possible.” Harvey said, handing the man a summary of what their plan was in simpler terms. Mike flexed his aching fingers under the table, trying to rub away hours or rather days of hard work. As much of a relief as it was to be able to sit for 30 mins and do next to nothing, he caught himself glancing at his watch multiple times, anxious about every second he didn’t spend working.

After the meeting, Mike dropped off Louis’s files and got to work on the other things Harvey had left him. These would take some research, great, off to the file room it is then. He gathered his things and sat on the floor, scanning through bins of information. If his eyes didn’t hurt before they certainly did now. Words were starting to blur together and he kept sagging more and more out of tiredness until he was basically laying on the ground, propped up on his elbows just enough to be able to read the paper.

—-

At first he wasn’t sure what woke him, a sharp knock, maybe someone was calling his name? He blinked slowly and looked up to see Rachel staring down at him disapprovingly.

“Odd time for a nap don’t you think?” she said.

“Oh my god, Rachel, what time is it?” Mike asked suddenly alert.

“Almost 4pm.”

“Shit, shit, shit. Harvey wants these by the end of the day.” Mike stammered combing through the files to see just how much trouble he was in. If Harvey stayed late today he had a chance of finishing them but he probably had more work for him to do by now anyway. Rachel gave him a sympathetic look.

“Fine,” she huffed, “I’ll help you.” Mike grouped up the documents for her, pairing the papers he was going to use to prove precedent to the sloppy drafts he’d started. Luckily for him she didn’t comment on how bad they were and got to work on rewriting them entirely. Having her there was a welcome distraction to how run down he was. He crossed his fingers hoping that these hellish past few days were some kind of trial by fire and things would settle down soon.

“Okay, these two are done. But that’s all I can help with. You better hurry if you want to catch Harvey on his way out.”

“Mhmm.” Mike responded without looking up, “thank you for the help.” Rachel paused by the door.

“Don’t get used to it.” She said in a tone that was both serious and lighthearted. When Mike finished a few minutes later and leapt to his feet to go find Harvey, he found that both his legs had fallen asleep and fell rather ungracefully back down to the floor. He banged his elbow on the shelf on his way down.

“God damn it.” Mike cursed to himself before trying again, much more successful this time. Harvey’s office was empty but it was just past 5pm so with any luck he’d still be in the lobby. Mike took the stairs for lack of time and scrambled down each floor to the building’s main lobby. Despite going downhill the trip sapped up a surprising amount of energy and he was left panting, one hand leaning on the wall before exiting the stairwell.

Yes! Harvey was still here, he probably only stopped to flirt with the receptionist.

“Ha- Harvey.” he said still a little out of breath, “I’ve got those files you wanted.” Mike said. Harvey took them and shoved them in his briefcase, only to pull out an equally large stack for him.

“Thanks Mike, I was going to give these to you earlier but Donna said you weren’t at your cubicle. I need these by 9am at the latest. And do get some sleep Mike, you look like shit, and we have court tomorrow.” Harvey replied. Mike had completely forgotten about their hearing tomorrow. He ran a hand through his messed up hair and straightened his tie in an attempt to look more professional.

“Sure, Harvey, no problem.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Harvey said before taking off, leaving Mike standing stupidly by the receptionist’s desk. He offered the girl a sheepish smile before heading back up to the office to grab his things in addition to the new assignments Harvey just gave him, this time taking the elevator.

—-

When Mike’s alarm dragged him out of a restless sleep he felt.. bad. Not in any particular way, just bad. And he had a feeling this was the kind of tired coffee couldn’t fix. He’d been up all night, getting only about 2 hours of sleep, which on second thought was more like a glorified nap. After a few more minutes of sulking Mike dragged himself out of bed, hoping a cold shower could perk him up. He grabbed a dull, dark grey suit from his closet and a crisp white shirt, he had to be in court later so now wasn’t the time to be taking fashion risks. He picked up the navy blue tie his grandma got for him when she heard about his fancy new job. The thought put him a little more at ease despite the worsening headache he had. Mike took one glance at his bike on his way out before deciding to just take a taxi. He’d probably puke his guts out trying to bike to work when he felt so crappy.

Mike threw a $20 at the taxi driver before jogging up to the building, he hadn’t planned for the extra time he’d spent stuck in traffic so now he was borderline late. It was clear Harvey was in no mood to deal with his associates lateness. He tried to go easy on the kid but with his schedule, lightening his workload just wasn’t an option. Jessica was already skeptical of his choice so when Mike showed up to his office looking pale and sweaty he had his lecture already planned out, for appearances at the very least.

“Shut the door, Mike.” Harvey said in a clipped voice. “Want to tell me why you’re 15 minutes late and look like you just ran a marathon?” Mike adjusted his tie subconsciously.

“I rode my bike, it’s pretty warm out today.” Mike lied. Harvey was tempted to make a remark about how if he can’t afford a taxi maybe he doesn’t belong here but he knew better. Mike didn’t belong there, and that’s exactly why he chose him.

“Sorry Harvey, I’ve been working really hard to finish these and it’s still before 9am, I- I hope that’s okay.” Mike said. Harvey sighed visibly, looking reminiscent of a disappointed father.

“It’s fine, Mike. Just plan better next time. Be back here in twenty minutes, Ray will drive us to the courthouse and for the love of god, do something to make yourself presentable.”

Mike took that as his cue to leave. At first he headed towards his cubicle but a sinking feeling in his stomach had him walking towards the bathrooms instead. He almost felt hungover, the ache spreading through his body from lack of sleep gave him the distinct feeling of being poisoned. Mike barely managed to keep his composure until he got to the men’s room where he ran the last few feet and collapsed on his knees in front of the toilet. He dry-heaved for a moment, using his brief second of relief to lock the stall door behind him. This time he actually brought up the small bit of breakfast he had. It’s just nerves right? Mike rationalized to himself. He just had to get it together. He didn’t want Harvey to regret hiring him, after all he did try to fire him once already.

As soon as Mike was confident that he was done, he exited the stall and made for the mirror to “make himself presentable” per Harvey’s request. Though Mike had to agree with him, his skin was a dull almost greyish color, which his glistening layer of sweat only helped make more visible. His cheeks were flushed a sickly pink. There wasn’t much he could do besides take a few deep breaths and splash some cold water in his face.

When he met back up with Harvey, he looked and felt worse than he did when he came in.

“Mike I thought I told you to do something about-“ he made a vague gesture to Mike, “that.” Harvey scolded, though Mike thought he detected the slightest hint of concern.

“I did…” Mike said, lacking the energy to make a better argument for himself.

“You know that? Why don’t you sit this one out. It’s not that important, I’m sure there’s plenty of stuff for you to do here.” Harvey said. This was his chance to back out, but Mike was too stubborn to quit just like that.

“No, I’m fine. I want to go, really,” he insisted. Harvey gave him a disbelieving look but he didn’t have time to argue with the kid.

“Fine, let’s go. Ray is waiting outside.” Harvey grabbed his briefcase and walked ahead, leaving Mike to try to keep up with him. He couldn’t help but notice the way his associate leaned heavily against the elevator wall, lacking the youthful energy he always had. He should have his earbuds in right now, listening to some ridiculous playlist to psych himself up. The doors opened before he had a chance to comment on it.

Mike felt truly awful at this point. He was starting to doubt whether or not he’d make it through the hearing. As long as he could stay sitting, everything would be fine. He all but fell into the seat next to Harvey and lazily reached up to grab his seatbelt. Harvey saw his minor struggle and opted to just grab the seatbelt and click it for him.

“Get it together, Mike. I’m serious. ‘Cause if you can’t, I’ll have Ray drop you off at home.” Harvey said.

“No!” Mike whined, “I’ve got it.” he said. They continued the rest of the ride in silence, luckily the courthouse wasn’t very far away.

Harvey strode into the courtroom with his usual confidence and grace. Mike on the other hand stumbled a bit, gripping the edges of the rows of chairs to steady himself. No turning back now. It was a simple case, all they were doing was filing a motion to allow them access to a rival companies records, but you could hardly call any case of Harvey’s simple. He was representing some of the wealthiest businessmen in New York. They quickly took their seats and waited for the judge. Mike could practically feel the sweat seeping through his shirt, he was uncomfortably hot now and the nausea was coming back despite his stomach being completely empty from earlier. He stared down at the desk in front of him and tried to focus on breathing.

“Are you okay?” Harvey asked, no longer trying to hide his concern. Mike just nodded in response, not trusting himself to open his mouth. He started shaking his leg impatiently until Harvey told him to knock it off.

“All rise.” A woman said as the judge entered. Mike forced himself to stand but he kept his hands firmly planted on the table. Harvey walked up to the stand and started talking. Okay Mike, just relax, everything is gonna fine, you’re- oh god. The dizziness was pressing in on him from all directions and his vision started to tunnel. He looked up to watch Harvey, though he couldn’t hear much of anything. He pressed a hand to his stomach and closed his eyes as the dizziness and fatigue made his stomach churn. He was pretty sure he was dangerously dehydrated at this point as well since he’s been running on coffee the last few days. Without Harvey next to him to stop him, he started tapping his foot again and used his other hand to rest his head. Mike knew how he must look but nothing could distract him from of primary goal of not throwing up right there in the middle of the courtroom. Harvey kept looking back to him anxiously but couldn’t disrespect the judge by interrupting him to go check on Mike. Turns out, he didn’t have to. Mike swayed slightly in his chair, his head was too foggy to know up from down and before he knew it he was sliding towards the floor, helpless to stop it.

Harvey heard a thud and whipped his head around to see Mike in the floor, struggling to get on his knees.

“Mike!” he called out to him. He knew he should have sent him home, but Mike was trying so hard to impress him he worked himself to his absolute breaking point. “What’s going on?” He asked, trying to sound calm as he moved the chairs out of the way so he could get to him.

“I- I’m fine.” Mike muttered weakly.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Harvey said as he grabbed Mike and hauled him to his feet. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

“But… but the case.”

“Already taken care of.” Harvey said. Which turned out to be true when the judge’s assistant ran up to them with the signed documents on their way out.

“Feel better.” she smiled. If Mike wasn’t so out of it he would be absolutely mortified right now. The last thing he remembered before drifting to sleep was Harvey helping him up the stairs to his apartment, taking off his jacket and shoes before letting Mike sleep this off. Despite how terribly the day had gone, Harvey knew he made the right choice.

[love-at-first-klance]

Some Hogwarts Shit

Voltron Modern Hogwarts au! Featuring the Power of Friendship, lots of Quidditch, the squad teasing the crap outta each other and being super supportive, some adventure shit, mutual pining, and lots of emotions.

A Collab With @thesirenserenity, with amazing art (click here!) by @kimchee2222

More Hogwarts shit coming soon!

Some notable headcannons:

Lance - Gryffindor because of his passionate, playful, and idealistic personality, how courageous he is when it comes to protecting people, and how he throws himself into anything he does.

Comes from an ancient line of wizards that died out. Family lived as muggles in Cuba for forever and are a bunch of squibbs currently. When he was 11 his mom took him on a trip to visit her Bisabuela at her manor in England. While cleaning up in one of the rooms, he came across a dangerous magical heirloom that reacted with his dormant magic. An awkward conversation with Bisabuela, who had been the last witch in the line, he finds out he’s a wizard. He gets his letter for Hogwarts the next day and his mom flys back to Cuba without him. Lance is thrown into a whole new world!

Lance starts the rivalry with Keith because Keith- being awkward and uncomfortable around strangers- snapped at him on the platform of the train. On top of that Keith is a natural at magic and flying and Shiro’s little brother so Lance feels like he has a lot to prove.

Lance working his ass off to catch up with all his amazingly talented friends who have known about magic all their lives, but not realizing how fast he has learned everything and how gifted he is.

Constantly has to explain Muggle things and expressions to Keith, Shiro, and Allura, who don’t spend much time in the Muggle world. Bonds with the Holt siblings and Hunk who, whilst being purebloods, have always had a fascination with technology and Muggle culture. Cue Matt and Lance watching anime together and the whole group making their own memes.

Has an adorable cat named Blue!

Best classes: Divination and Potions!

A Chaser on the Quidditch team.

Keith - Gryffindor because of his complete recklessness, stubborn and blunt nature, and unshakeable courage.

Adopted by the Shiroganes at age 8, and loves his new family! Wants to find his mother, who was a witch and supposedly died during childbirth. His muggle father didn’t believe that and continued to search for her. He ran himself ragged and into an early grave, leaving poor halfblood Keith abandoned in a muggle orphanage while experiencing his first bursts of unstable magic.

Roommates with Lance! They are the only Gryffindor boys in their year, and thus have a room alone together... The whole squad is surprised they haven’t torn each other to shreds because of their rivalry.

Keith actually feels bad about snapping at Lance when they first met but he couldn’t find a good chance (or the right words) to apologize and then Lance started their ‘rivalry’ and Keith ends up thinking Lance doesn’t like him.

Lance: “Of course we’re friends you dimwit! I’m definitely your friend.” 

Keith: *internally dying because that’s the first time someone besides Pidge has explicitly said they were friends* Oh… Cool.

The best Seeker Hogwarts has ever seen!!

Best Classes: Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration

Has an adorably shy cat named Red (Lance: “You copied my naming idea!!” Keith: “I named her before we met, idiot. How could I copy you?”) who likes to ride around on Keith’s shoulder. Red takes a while to loosen up to her cat-roommate Blue, but then they are the best of friends!

Hunk - Hufflepuff! The Puff-est of Puffs!  Extremely hard-working, genuine, and loyal to his friends! Open-minded, fair, and accepting.

Grew up in a Pureblood family who is super down to earth and loves muggle shit. They live in the same Wizarding neighborhood as the Holts and Shiroganes and  He was best friends with Pidge even before Hogwarts!

Took poor lost Lance under his wing on the train day one and the rest was history!

Will absolutely destroy you if you hurt any of his friends.

Disapproves of Lance’s “adventures” to the kitchen, but loves the house elves and they let him bake at all hours of the night.

Not in Quidditch, but loves to watch and root for his friends and a specific Hufflepuff Keeper ;)

(Shay. It’s Shay. and spoilers, they are the cutest couple ever!!!)

Hunk knows that two certain Gryffindors in their friend group are hopelessly in love with each other before they know themselves. This does not surprise him. (It does frustrate him)

Pidge - Slytherin!!! Ambitious af, driven, self-reliant (“NO HUNK I CAN REACH THE BOOK MYSELF”), ruthless, adaptable, and uses their intelligence to achieve their goals.

Family of purebloods who lives in the same neighborhood as Hunk and Shiroganes. BFFs with Hunk for their mutual obsession with muggle shit, and BFFs with Keith because Shiro brought him along whenever he hung out with Matt so they became friends out of a common interest of pulling pranks on their brothers.

A year younger than the Lance-Hunk-Keith crew, but dove right into their friend group (literally. They have a tendency to jump on top of people).

Rides around on everyone’s back, especially Keith (“Awww, Keith. Don’t be jealous, you know you’re my favorite noble steed.” “I am not a noble steed, fuck you.” “Oh, you’re right, you would be the assassin’s steed!”)

Comes out as Non-Binary their fourth year. The whole squad is super supportive, but some of the traditionalists in Slytherin get a little rude about it until a certain someone steps in (hmmmm… wonder who that could be ;)

PIDGE HAS AN OWL NAMED ROVER FIGHT ME

“What’s up Gryffindorks.”

Gets Hunk a mug that says “I don’t give a Hufflefuck” and Hunk is so torn because of the swear, but loves that his BFF got him a mug.

Shiro - Seriously was a hat stall, but wanted to be in Ravenclaw with his BFF Matt (and the super pretty, intimidating daughter of the Headmaster). He fits pretty well because of his introspective nature and wise, analytical, and steady mind.

From a Pureblood family that adopted Keith.

Best friends with Matt since FOREVER

An amazing wizard and hard worker in all his classes. Many say that he is one of the best wizards on campus.

Him, Matt, and Allura are all a year older than Hunk, Lance, and Keith.

Fantastic Quidditch player, because he and Matt have been playing together since they got their first brooms at the young age of six. Both are Chasers, a terrifying team, and part of the reason why the Ravenclaw team has been dominating at Quidditch recently.

Is everyone’s big brother and chides them to take care of themselves. And yells at Pidge for their language.

Has a frog named Slav who is ALWAYS croaking and annoys the shit outta him. Most common threat “I will turn you into a tea cozy” any time the frog croaks at an inopportune time (which is very often)

Allura - Ravenclaw AF for her no nonsense diplomatic mind and creative soul. She is so smart and aces all her classes, but gets distracted from her homework because she is so naturally curious and inquisitive. She is independent, talented beyond her years, and loves to learn.

Alfor is the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and so she knows ALL the secrets of the castle!

Sometimes spends a few weeks of the summer with her Uncle Coran, who is the Charms Professor and head of the Ravenclaw House, but has an apartment in Diagon Alley.

A Beater and the other reason why the Ravenclaw team has been dominating at Quidditch. She becomes the Quidditch captain in her fifth year, but was really running the team since she joined her third year.

Still has all the mice ALL THE MICE (“No, they are not rats”)

Matt - Ravenclaw for his brilliant mind and indefatigable wit. He often plays devil’s advocate in discussions because he is a cynic. Quotes shakespeare and memes simultaneously.

Roomates and bffs with Shiro!

Ships Shiro and Allura so hard, and wins a very specific bet as to how they will finally get together (FINALLY).

110% Started the “Space Dad” nickname for Shiro with the help of Lance.

Is Pidge’s biggest supporter and will destroy anyone who hurts them, which is very out of character from his normally chill demeanor (“In this house we love and respect Pidge.”)

Coran- Charms professor and head of Ravenclaw house. Everyone’s favorite teacher but no one can really say why. (“He just… I dunno… He’s fun?”)

Will invite you to his office for cookies and tea and you will like it

You will also tell him everything that’s bothering you and he will give you the one bit of advice you needed to hear and then you will leave feeling a lot better

You will then realize he didn’t ask you a single question about why you were upset you just kind of… blabbed at him.

Sure he’s the charms professor but he knows tons of things about tons of subjects. You could ask him about any type of magic and and could tell you about it. (Or at least tell you where to look to learn more)

Very interested in Muggle things but very bad at understanding them.

Took charge of Lance during his first year at Hogwarts and now it’s not uncommon for Lance to just spend his downtime hanging out in Coran’s office talking.

“I don’t have a favorite student. That would be very unprofessional.”

He does

It’s Lance

Much to Allura’s frustration (“Allura, you can’t be my favorite, that would be nepotism.”)

Lotor

Has been punched in the face

It was Keith

Keith: “10/10 would punch in the face again.”

Lance: “Do not!”

[errantknightess]

Writer ask meme

Tagged by @kitty-bandit, @silentium-nightshade and @faeriexqueen - thanks a lot :D Answers under the cut because it’s long and who has the time for that.

1. Explain your AO3 handle.

It's just a variant of the screen name I came up back when I was fourteen and obsessed with Middle Ages. It's pretty dumb, but I got used to it and kinda like the shape of those lowercase letters.

2. Favorite fanfiction trope?

Mutual pining. Give me all the sad idiots that don't realize how much they mean to the love of their life! Give me their awkward fumbling as they fail to express their feelings and stay convinced the other could never possibly reciprocate! Give me the stolen touches and fleeting glances and weak excuses to be as close to each other as they dare!

3. Favorite place to write?

My room, door closed, absolute silence everywhere, or at the very least earplugs/some white noise in my headphones.

4. Favorite ships in your current fandom?

In DGM it's laven, always and forever, my precious lost dorks ♥ And as you can notice, I've also fallen into FFXV and promptis hell recently. Here's your fair warning that I'll be writing quite a bit of it in the future.

5. What are your steps to get into the Writing Mood™?

Basically just daydreaming the scenes I need to write next. When I can see them in my mind clearly enough, I'm ready to write -- otherwise I fumble a lot and they don't come out feeling very natural.

6. What program/app do you use to write?

I draft things out in Notepad and clean the finished thing in Word. I find that Notepad is less intimidating in a way -- I can just drop loose messy notes in it and not worry about things being perfect, while Word and other “proper” programs pressure me to Get It Right on the first try. Recently I've also started turning my laptop off and jotting my notes down by hand instead, and that helps a lot in keeping away all the internet distractions! (I do transfer those notes to Notepad later, though -- actual writing is way quicker on the keyboard, and as a non-native speaker I need my dictionaries and Google).

7. List your zodiac sign, favorite ice cream flavor, Hogwarts House, and your opinion on pineapple pizza.

Cancer, mint with chocolate chips, Slytherin, and sure I'll eat that

8. Link us a fanfic that made you cry.

Two of Cups by @kitty-bandit makes me cry every time I read it. It's so full of raw love and passion, and has such a wonderful, intimate atmosphere. It makes me very emotional.

9. Link us a fanfic that made you laugh.

Tumbling down the ffxv hole, I've discovered that I love Ignis/Gladio written as comedy. Marry in Haste, Regen at Leisure by fictionfinding is a gem, those fast-paced, quippy dialogues had me howling.

10. Link us a fanfic that left you in complete awe at the writer’s ability.

I'm always completely in awe of @kitty-bandit‘s ability to plot out long, complex stories, fill them with action and tension, and see them through till the end. Her Lost Time is probably where it hit me the most. I'm seriously amazed at how she comes up with all her ideas and puts them together so they fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. I also just have to mention Warmth by @carolyncaves as it had literally reduced me to stumbling in a stunned daze for a few days. I fell in love with the narration there, with those vivid descriptions and the striking way of building the scenes so they grip you tight with suspense.

11. List your kinks.

I don't really read porn and I'm extremely vanilla, but I always appreciate heavy makeouts/clothed sex, some non-con with a heavy focus on hurt/comfort later, and certain very specific aspects of the Fuck or Die trope.

12. How do you come up with your ideas?

I don't really come up with ideas as much as they come to me; I tend to write things I want to read myself. Sometimes I draw inspiration from life (one of my current WIPs is based on a really terrible attempt at an omelette I made recently...), other times they develop from random headcanons as I try to flesh out my desperately lacking characterization and get into the characters' heads better.

13. How do you implement said ideas into a cohesive narrative?

I write mostly short stuff, so there's not really a lot of work for me to do in terms of plotting. If I feel the need to see a particular scene, I just put it down and try to build some more context around it until it can pass for a drabble/fic -- so I think back on all the "why"s, figure out how that situation could come to be and where it leads to based on the characters' reactions and dialogue.

14. What are your working on right now? Share a little snippet or a description.

I'm working on a bunch of stuff, jumping form one thing to another, so... have this tiny bit of a very random promptis drabble? (I'm sorry, I promise y'all some laven for Christmas, but for now I'm just. In the mood for this ;;;;;;;;;)

When he needed to, Noctis could be an incredibly patient man.

He had withstood the trials of adolescence that came with being royalty in a public high school. His scarce public appearances were a constant display of diplomacy and self-control as he deflected obnoxious, invasive questions from the press. He managed not to nap in most of the bi-weekly council meetings. And of course, when all of that was done, he could spend hours on end sitting still and silent on a pier with a fishing rod in hand.

All of that patience, however, evaporated like a daemon on a summer morning some time around his third game over in a row.

"Damn it," he groaned, slamming the control panel with his fist. Prompto flinched, but the dull clang of metal drowned in the noise around them. The arcade was busy enough that no one paid any mind to their crown prince assaulting the machines -- even though Noct did his best to make sure Prompto could hear his discontent over the crowd.

"Did you see that?" He waved his hand at the screen, where his avatar was still blinking red in a cloud of pixellated explosion. "I totally had it! This is cheating!"

"You think it's rigged?" Prompto poked the machine with the tip of his boot. If it was, he couldn't see any signs of tampering, other than the peeling stickers and a few choice words of graffiti on the side.

[constupidity]

Submit Anon: Why I Left the Hetalia Fandom

Be forwarned, this tale is a long one. Sorry if this story is all over the place. If any readers recognize these people, do not go after them. Real names will not be used in this story, so we’ll call these “Hetalians” in question:

*”Ludwig”, a young woman who Oliver had/has feelings for.

*”Oliver”, the star of this tale, and the ringleader of a cosplay group.

*”Matthew”, the oldest member of the cosplay group, and the only other male besides me. We were very briefly a thing.

*”Feli”, me, the one who had to put up with all this. I’m autistic, and have some sensory issues; I also don’t usually catch typical “cues” right away.

*”Francis”, and “Kiku”, two of Oliver’s sympathizers, friends, and members of her group.

*”Tino”, a Finland cosplayer who honestly was kind of bossy.

I first met these Hetalians when I first started out cosplaying. It was the Saturday of a certain con that I met Ludwig, who, while an attractive woman, I only saw as a friend (remember this as we go on).

We chatted on Tumblr for awhile, and one day she asked if I was going to the Hetalia Day meetup that year. Not knowing about it until then, I said yes! Because of course I wanted to expand my circle of friends, and if these would-be friends have the same interests as me, then that makes it a hundred times easier.

So the day of the meetup came, and so far, everything was fine. Ludwig came about an hour after I did, and unbeknownst to me, and brought a friend of hers along. This is how I met Oliver.

(Quick side note before we continue: I’m the type of person, who even non-romantically, if I’m comfortable enough with a person, I hug, hold hands, etc. willingly, as I otherwise don’t particularly care to touch other people.)

So Ludwig and I head from one pavilion to the other (the meetup was at a rather large park), and as we’re walking, holding hands as we do, we suddenly hear this girl yell at us, and despite being nearly a foot shorter than me (I’m 5’7”, she was like 4’8”, I think?) nearly pulled me to the ground, with such force that I nearly did lose my balance! Now I’m not the assertive type at all, nor did I really understand at the time why Oliver did that to begin with, so I back off a little for the time being.

In fact, I nearly forget about the incident until almost a year later, when Oliver volunteered to pick me up to take me to A-Fest, since I couldn’t (and still can’t OTL) drive, and get me to my hotel. We have somewhat of a decent conversation on the way there. Mostly about other cons we’ve been to previously. Oliver also brought up about Ludwig and how “she was the best thing to ever happen to [her]”. And suddenly her behavior at the meetup made sense to me. Or, it sort of did, I would end up needing a few more hints that came when we picked up Ludwig so we could all go get our badges together, and so I could get checked into the hotel I was staying at.

So among all other things I had with me, a video camera was one of them, because I wanted to (and would still like to) try out the whole “vloging” thing. As soon as Ludwig is in the shot, however, Oliver snaps at me saying “Don’t film my woman!”

I was taken aback, because since when was she your woman? It was established prior to picking her up that Ludwig is only interested in men (cis men, specifically), and that she already had a boyfriend. And there was certainly no polygamy involved. Yet, this whole thing was still going over my head.

Anyway, I get checked in, and even though I booked the hotel room, Tino, who I was unfortunately rooming with, starts acting like she’s the boss. She snapped at me when I didn’t look her in the eyes, even though that’s something I’m not comfortable with (eye contact is very distracting to me), she wouldn’t let me go to sleep until four in the morning, and that was only because I had started shaking and crying from behind so sleep deprived. And because she prioritized con so much, she barely let me eat, or bathe, or brush my teeth. Except maybe one time each, each day? If even that? And despite bringing four characters to cosplay, she only allowed me to wear one! One character, two outfits, the whole con! And she forced me to go to the rave with her; I don’t go to raves, or as I like to call them “sensory overload imminent”, so just imagine how well that went…

There was an incident where I had accidentally left my video camera and my mom’s camera that I was borrowing at the Hetalia photo shoot location; I did get them back a day later (thank you whoever dropped them off at lost and found!), but at the time, I was really upset about it, and Tino wouldn’t let me go look for them, and I ended up having a meltdown because of that, and from being bossed around, and from being so sleep deprived. Did she care? Only because she wanted to get back to con going! Hell, a random passerby was more concerned than she was!

Neglecting her health bit her in the ass on the last day of con, however, as she caught con plague. I don’t wanna say that she had it coming, but she did. And when my shenanigans with her ended, in came Matthew.

Now, at this point, I barely knew him from online, along with past cons and meet ups, but I soon found myself spending Saturdays with him. From there, we became fast friends over the course of a year. He got me into a few other anime titles as well, yet when I tried to get him into my favorite games (since I do mostly prefer video games over anime), he wouldn’t have any of it. He even called Kirby “a video game for babies” once when I wore my Kirby t-shirt!

(Also, funny thing: even though he’s older than me, and owns every Nintendo console, he can’t get the Koopalings’ namesakes correct! That’s like, Nintendo 101 stuff, too!)

Despite this, I somehow managed to develop feelings for him (and I still don’t know why). We went on, maybe three dates at most, before calling it quits.

And Matthew, if you are reading this: Yes, I will admit I was very immature then. I will also admit that arousal is an emotion that I am not 100% familiar with. It was a very confusing mess I should have left you out of. In those regards, I apologize for giving you any unnecessary stress. That is all I will apologize for.

While that whole tangent with Matthew was going on, Oliver decided to start an Another Color Hetalia (better known as 2P) cosplay group, and roped as many of us in as possible. Even though I was assigned a character, I never even got around to starting on the costume, which was for the better really.

It was during this, I learned once and for all that Oliver thought I was trying to steal Ludwig. At Hetalia Day 2014, we were all there, but when I went up to Ludwig to try and say hello to her, some other Hetalians, who I presume were some of Oliver’s cronies, stopped me from going up to her.

“I just want to say ‘hi’!” I said.

“Are you sure about that, Feli?” one of them asked. I just walked away totally confused, wondering what I said or did. I reached two conclusions after the meetup:

1. Oliver must not really like me that much. 2. She thinks I’m trying to steal away Ludwig, even though I have no reason to.

I unfriend her online not long after, but I was still a part of the cosplay group. For some reason.

Anyway, in November that year, there was yet another cosplay meet up I wanted to go to. However, there was no way I could get there myself, as my mom, who would normally take me to these things, would be working on that day. So I ask Francis if she, or anyone else going, could come and get me that day. I ask her at least twice, and she completely ignored me. The day of the meetup comes and goes, and I end up missing it. I told Francis it was mean of her to ignore me, and some friend she was to just forget about one of her friends (in summary; I forget the exact words I used), and unfriended her.

The next day, Oliver messaged me, telling to “say [I’m] sorry to Francis.”…Except Francis was the one at fault, not me?? I never apologize, since she deserved what I said.

One day on Facebook, our cosplay group (yes, I was still somehow a member!) was debating on having an Ask-a-2P Panel, and which con to have it at (since each of our 2015 con schedules were different all around). The main concern was having everyone at the same place at the same time. I took this problem seriously, and decided to make a suggestion.

Now, you know how in theater, every actor has an understudy (aka, a ‘back-up’ actor of sorts to practice alongside the main actor, in the case they need to fill in)? I thought, since Hetalia is a popular cosplay, especially this AU in particular, finding understudies wouldn’t be a problem at all. Plus, it would guarantee we would always have a complete set! That’s how I made sense of it.

Now, I didn’t expect everyone to agree, but it was still an idea worth keeping in mind, at least. Evidently, Oliver didn’t think so. She snapped at me for even thinking of such an idea and was all “don’t ever say again!” and I’m like Bitch, chill out. It was just a suggestion!

I forget about the incident for awhile until 2015, and Ikkicon both come along. I’m waiting in line with Matthew for our badges, when he says it.

“Feli, apologize to Oliver when you see her. ‘Cause that wasn’t cool. This panel/group is like her baby!”

Oh my lord. It was just a freaking suggestion. It didn’t help I was already irritable with other things going on during that time. Now they are going to dump this on me, too? It took all my self control not to snap!

And after that con, I finally ended up leaving the cosplay group. Not because I hadn’t started on my costume, or because of my con schedule, but because I disagreed with Kiku on a headcanon.

Yeah.

Because I didn’t agree with everyone else on some stupid headcanon, nearly everyone in the chat (sans anyone who was offline at the time) gained up on me until I finally snapped at them, told them off, and left. I got one last message from Oliver, but didn’t bother reading it. I blocked her, Francis, Kiku, and Ludwig on Facebook.

Think that’s the last of it? Think again!

Fast forward to A-Fest 2015. I’m having second thoughts about going because of last time. Matthew insisted I come anyway (mostly since I was rooming with him, and owed my share). Now prior to this, I was 90% sure he said he was going to come get me on his way to con. So imagine my shock when he says he will not be picking me up, but is picking up Oliver. I tell him off, decide I’m not going to con. But a mutual friend says they can come get me. I reluctantly, and regretfully, agree.

I end up spending little to no time at the con itself. Matthew got con plague on the first day (haha!). Half the time, I debated whether or not to call my mom to come get me and take me home!

After that con, I find out from Matthew that Oliver “has nothing against me” (as if!) and “wanted to talk to me during A-Fest” (yeah, right!). Unfortunately for her, I want nothing to do with her, or the fandom for that matter, anymore.

Now, I’m not saying everyone in the Hetalia fandom is bad, but these ones in particular really ruined it for me. I guess the only good ending here, is that I am no longer affiliated with those people, and have since found new interests with fandoms that are billion times better!