#this summary. i mean. the other stuff in chapter 3 itself. not so short

[clowncollectr]

Arknights - Everything between us, as it should be (Liang Xun / Lee) - Chapter 6

Rating: G

Word Count: 6058 (this chapter), 28397 (whole story)

Summary: It’s Liang Xun’s second time visiting Lungmen. The circumstances are much better compared to last time. There’s no rush. Familiar faces, new faces. More happy memories to join the old ones. Between him and Lee, things are finally as they should be.

AO3 Link

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

__________ Chapter 6: Lost and found

“Been awhile since I’ve seen you this troubled.”

The detective’s eyes glanced up. He tried to stare down his opponent, but it felt pretty ineffective when the person’s entire face was covered. He stretched his arms out and yawned.

“It’s nothing. I’m just tired. Aren’t you supposed to be telling me about the mission? Don’t let me distract you.”

“I didn’t stop because I was the one who was distracted.”

Lee made a ‘tsk’ sound to show his dissatisfaction at being caught. This person is really nice to talk to about most things. They catch on fast, meaning he didn’t have to explain much. It meant both of them could cover a large array of topics together in a short span of time. Really useful for doing business. But there were times when they caught on too fast, and unlike most people, they had a tendency to say all of their observations out loud.

In the end, he gave up and scratched the back of his head, both in defeat and annoyance.

“Fine, fine. Doesn’t matter. I did all my homework before coming here anyways, so don’t bother trying to lecture me.”

As if to prove his point, he pulled out a set of files from the inside of his coat and set them on the office desk.

“Calais-Blason, right? That’s where you want to go. You know, it wasn’t easy gathering intel on that troupe of yours without being put on someone’s hit list. I’m afraid I might have to charge you three dinners for this one, Doctor.”

The Doctor reached for the files and skimmed through them, giving a nod of approval.

“It couldn’t be helped. It was a request from the lady herself.”

“The lady…Wait. You mean the cat?! Uh, I’ve had owners commission me to search for their missing pet before, but never the other way around.”

“She works in mysterious ways, alluring as the night itself. Who are we to question her motives? And regardless, Rhodes Island never turns its back on one of its own.”

“Well, nice to know that you’ll look out for those three too if something ever happened.”

“Of course.”

They spent the next hour going over the details of the mission. Although his mind had been a little preoccupied before, Lee was honestly thankful to have something else to focus on, and he discussed the matter seriously to ensure the safety of the other operators.

While he hates to admit it, there was something nice about someone being able to acknowledge his troubles so easily. Because it was so difficult to hide it, there was no reason to put in the effort. The productivity helped with his mood, and by the time they were finished, the tiredness he’d mentioned earlier had somehow dissipated.

Though he thought it’d be best to get more rest anyway. His team would be departing later in the day. So he said farewell to the Doctor and prepared to leave their office to head for the dormitories. The Doctor thanked him for his time but requested one last favor.

“I need you to deliver these files for me.”

Lee took the small stack of files from their hands, looking slightly surprised.

“That’s it?”

It was rare for him to get an errand like this nowadays. Partly his fault since around the start of his contact with Rhodes Island, he used to pretend to have a headache whenever they made him do anything tedious like sort files. Eventually, they just gave up on trying. Okay maybe it was mostly his fault. But he doesn’t actually mind doing stuff like this if he has to.

He waited on the other person for a bit, in case they wanted to elaborate on anything further. The Doctor just shrugged, as much as they could with their hands still in their pockets, and explained that the office number label was on one of the folders.

“You can thank me later.” they told him.

This person has a really unconventional sense of humor.

Usually when you ask someone to do something for you, you’re the one thanking them. But he’s long since grown accustomed to the Doctor’s strange jokes. They were quite the oddball, especially if you caught them shortly after they’d been working too much. Plus there were too many cryptic rumors about them floating around. Like how they wore their usual work attire to the beach or that one time someone saw them eating an originium slug at late hours of the night, when they thought no one was watching. All unconfirmed, none unproven. Scary stuff. There were some things that didn’t need to be investigated.

Since the office for the delivery was opposite to where the dormitories were, the task was a bit inconvenient. It was still a trivial errand in the end. One that shouldn’t set him back more than half an hour.

When he arrived, he found Miss Orchid there with a bored but otherwise neutral expression on her face. He did as he was asked and handed her the files. Lee wasn’t sure what he was delivering, only that when the woman opened the files to read their contents, she gave the longest sigh and muttered “Ugh, seriously?” under her breath. Maybe he’d been tricked into giving another poor soul more work.

Despite her initial reaction, Miss Orchid quickly resumed her professional demeanor. She thanked Lee for the trouble and once the latter had one foot out the door, he heard the faintest complaints about ‘having enough work to deal with’.

Another person that likes to complain about work but always does it in the end? What a troublesome personality. He thought to himself with some amusement.

Since the dormitories were a fair distance away anyway, he took the opportunity to take a pleasant stroll through the landship, walking lazily while he thought about the upcoming mission.

What the Doctor said earlier resurfaced from his memory. Rhodes Island never turns its back on one of its own. Even if searching for someone who went missing was troublesome, it was a nice sentiment. To know that if you disappear, your presence is important enough that people will come looking for you.

Now that he thinks about it, he’s also troubled someone else with this kind of thing. It was…impressive that they never gave up after all that time.

Lee shook his head.

Forget about it for now. We parted on good terms. There’s nothing to regret.

He’s been too gloomy lately, like a child at the end of their summer break. Not wanting his vacation to end. It was a natural reaction, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a little too old to be acting like this. It really would be best if he got over it soon.

He let himself wander a bit more, slowly but surely making his way to the dormitories. While walking down one of Rhodes Island’s many connecting hallways, someone’s loud voice pulled him away from his thoughts. It sounded as if someone had lost their composure. 

“How?! Augh, nevermind. Maybe we should check the reception room first...”

This kind of thing wasn’t uncommon at this place. The landship was home to all kinds of interesting characters. Yes, that part wasn’t all that strange. What was strange was that he recognized that voice. And it was the voice of someone who was supposed to be in charge of his house right now. So why was he hearing it here? It was a couple decades too early for him to be showing signs of old age. Nothing wrong with his hearing yet.

He made sure to keep his presence hidden while he peeked from the corner of the hallway. Sure enough, there they were. Three orange tails and hushed voices. As expected, trouble always came in threes.

He could hear the most reasonable member of their group trying to calm down the other two.

“There’s no sense arguing over who’s at fault. Let’s just think of what we should do before we run into-”

“Before you run into?”

Lee watched as all three of his employees jumped after suddenly hearing his voice. 

Actually, he had planned to wait behind them until they noticed, but he couldn’t resist the dramatic entrance.

The three turned towards him in surprise, and it was Aak who mumbled a not so enthusiastic “Too late I guess” before falling silent along with the others.

Lee looked back at them. At their age, there was no point scolding them. But he knew the next best thing. Crossing his arms, standing there, and looking extremely disappointed. He tapped his foot expectantly, showing that he was waiting for an explanation.

Waai Fu was the first to step forward, and she explained nervously:

“Uncle Lee! You’re still here? We thought you would be on your mission by now. See, we were also called over for a mission and-”

Lee nudged his head to the side, not particularly impressed.

“Bad lie. Too easy to verify that. Next.”

Aak stepped forward and pulled a vial of strange liquid from his pocket.

“I left some important samples here for my new medicine, so I came to get them.”

Lee didn’t seem too convinced.

“Why did the other two come with you? Anyway, we’re on good terms with Penguin Logistics, who also work here. I’m surprised you didn’t go to them first. That’s what you usually do when you forget something.”

Aak shrugged indifferently, too lazy to put together any sort of argument. It felt pretty pointless, considering who he was up against.

Finally, when it was Hung’s turn to speak, the Perro simply said “We wanted to see you off properly. Don’t you think you left too suddenly? Who knows when we’ll see you again.”

The Lung was able to sense some honesty in his words. He closed his eyes and sighed. Probably a bit of the truth mixed in with a lie. He’s seen plenty of those before. Still, the thought was appreciated. Although it didn’t stop him from worrying about the obvious.

“So? What about our guest? No way you left him in Lungmen by himself, right? And bringing him here would be impossible on such short notice given that a background check is required.”

“We didn’t need to. He already went back to the capital. Uncle Liang said he didn’t want his work piling up.” Waai Fu explained.

“That’s good.” Lee nodded, seeming to accept her words. He felt more at ease knowing that everything was in order back home. Despite the way he acted earlier, he didn’t actually mind having the children come to Rhodes Island for, well, whatever reason they were here since they didn’t seem to want to tell him. They were all adults now and should be allowed to come and go wherever they please. It was just more amusing to question them the way he did.

Having settled the important business, he reverted back to his laid back state from before. The plan was originally to go back to the dormitories to rest, but since everyone was here anyway, he proposed the idea of getting lunch together. To his surprise, Waai Fu, Aak, and Hung just stared at him with nervous faces. They didn’t seem to like the idea too much. Very unexpected. These three rarely ever passed on an opportunity to eat. Not to mention, Rhodes Island’s kitchen is quite nice, and he’s already been granted permission to cook there. Even if the menu for today wasn’t good, there was no reason why he couldn’t quickly stir fry something up for them.

In particular, it was written all over Hung’s face that something was wrong. This guy had a bad habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve a little too openly. To the point that it caused trouble for him sometimes. But in situations like this, it made him the easiest person to go to when Lee wanted a straight answer. So he took one step toward the young man and asked him amicably.

“Hung, what’s the matter? Did you guys get into trouble again? Why don’t you tell me what the problem is and we’ll sort it out together.”

It seemed for a long time that Hung didn’t want to say anything, occasionally glancing to the side at Waai Fu and Aak. Lee was about to give up on getting anything out of him when Aak spoke up and caught his attention.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.” Lee responded back.

“Only if you promise not to get mad.”

That phrase wasn’t a good sign, but he didn’t really have any choice but to encourage the other to continue.

“As long as it wasn’t illegal.”

“Ok cool. It was only against regulations. Nothing related to the law.”

“....”

Aak took a deep breath before saying everything in one go, talking at the same barely comprehensible speed as that young woman from the Lungmen Fire Department.

“So the truth is Mr. Liang didn’t go back home he changed his mind last minute because he said he wanted to see you and he seemed kinda desperate so we snuck him onboard and figured it would be fine if he stuck with us but then we lost him and now we can’t find him so he’s wandering around the landship somewhere without a guest badge or any papers and we’re trying to find him before security gets to him first”

There was silence for a while. 

No one said anything. 

It was a lot of information to process.

Once everything had settled in his mind, Lee found that he wasn’t sure how to feel about this situation. All he could do was let out a tired sigh and mentally say goodbye to his free time again.

“I can’t say I didn’t anticipate this scenario when I saw you three were here. Losing him was a surprise though. How do you lose track of a tall, fully grown, adult man exactly?”

“I dunno. It just kinda happened.” Aak replied with a shrug.

Waai Fu didn’t seem very happy with his answer and joined the conversation to elaborate.

“We were leading him around and at some point, we realized he wasn’t with us anymore. We weren’t watching him the whole time. I mean, he’s not a child we need to babysit right? And I really doubt he would wander off on his own so…”

She trailed off and looked down at the floor anxiously, unable to hide the guilt she was feeling at the moment. The situation sounded a lot worse now that she was explaining it out loud.

Lee was quick to notice and reassured her. It was weird that this was happening at all, but not something that was going to end the world either. He knew all three of them were good kids. They probably didn’t want to tell him because they felt bad about causing him trouble. So he wasn’t mad at them, and there was no reason for any of them to feel guilty. Honestly, he was glad they told him rather than trying to solve this problem on their own.

“Hey, don’t sweat it”, Lee gave her a gentle pat on the head. “With the four of us working together, we’ll find him for sure. I’ve only seen one male Kuranta around this part of the landship and that guy has blonde hair. We can just ask around if anyone’s seen a male Kuranta with black hair. Besides, Rhodes Island isn’t a dangerous place and that guy’s plenty capable. 

Worst case scenario, you three will get a scolding for sneaking someone on board. Wait. That probably means me too. Uh, let’s hope it’s Miss Amiya and not Dr. Kal’tsit who does it then.”

Everyone laughed at the thought of the entire group being forced to sit through one of Kal’tsit’s infamous monologues, and the absurdity of it eased their tension a little.

While Hung, Aak, and Waai Fu were perfectly capable of settling things on their own, there was something reassuring about having their boss around to call the shots again. Even if they forgot half the time that that was technically what he was. After some discussion, everyone agreed to split up and cover different parts of the landship.

It was a difficult search since no one personally knew who they were looking for. There was also no way to anticipate where they might find him. But as Lee predicted, there were a fair amount of people who reported having seen him. It took some time, but they were eventually able to narrow things down based on the sightings. And it seemed that luck was on their side today because when they finally found him, Liang Xun was not with security or strangers, but rather, they saw him speaking with some familiar faces.

Familiar to both Liang Xun and Lee’s agency. Operator Kroos and Mr. Nothing appear to have run into their missing guest at some point. It was quite fortunate. Running into those two was probably one of the best possible outcomes. At least they knew who he was and could verify his identity. Lee and the rest of the group were relieved when they saw who he was with. It meant that very likely nothing bad had happened.

Kroos was the first to notice them approaching and she greeted them warmly, sociable and upbeat as ever.

“Oh! Hiii~ Mr. Lee, Waai Fu, Hung, Aak. Wow, so many people. We’re running into all our friends today.”

Mr. Nothing agreed with her. He opened his mouth and was about to say his own greetings when the sound of running footsteps and a flash of black raced past him.

“Lee! You’re still here. I thought I was too late. No one knew where to find you.”

He wanted to reply back with something like ‘Yeah the same goes for you’ , but Lee was more distracted by the fact that Liang Xun was currently looking at him like he’d just found water in the desert. The guy had a pretty mellow personality, and he’s never seen him move with this much urgency before. He wanted to ask him why but wasn’t given the luxury.

Before he could process it, Liang Xun had already grabbed his hands and placed their palms together, filling the space between them. Already, there were some confused and surprised reactions, including the faint sound of Kroos going “oh my” in the background. But Liang Xun ignored it all and focused only on the man in front of him. He stared at him seriously and spoke purposefully.

“About what you said before. I came here because I wanted to talk about it. Your confession. Let me respond to it properly. I-”

“Hold it.” Lee interrupted immediately.

He couldn’t believe what was happening. While he didn’t pull away from the other’s grasp, he looked around apprehensively before chastising him.

“You…you’re not thinking, are you? Look where we are right now.”

Those words were like a loud snap, which pulled Liang Xun out of his tunnel vision. He followed his friend’s advice and checked his surroundings, realizing that there were several people looking at the both of them. Fortunately, there was no one else around except the members of Lee’s agency and Miss Kroos and Mr. Nothing, who were so kind as to accompany him when he admitted that he had gotten separated from his friends. But that was still an audience of five more than the Lung probably wanted.

Liang Xun suddenly let go of Lee’s hands and stepped back. It was far too late now, but he realized from the flustered look on the carp’s face that he had just embarrassed him in front of everyone. He coughed awkwardly and glanced around, trying to think of a way to fix his mistake. But as always, Lee didn’t mind stepping in to help when he was in trouble, and the detective showed his talent for handling difficult situations once again.

Turning to face the entire group, he cleared his throat and explained as casually as he could.

“Sorry everyone. Looks like Liang Xun and I have some private matters to discuss.” He turned towards Kroos and Mr. Nothing and gave them a small nod of acknowledgement. “You two. Could you go tell the Doctor that I’ll be missing the squad meeting for my upcoming mission? We’ve already discussed it together anyway. And if you could, ahem…” He gestured towards himself and the man standing next to him. “Please keep this matter discreet. I’d appreciate it.”

Kroos straightened her back and exclaimed “Yes sir!”, assuming a saluting posture typically reserved for one of Dobberman’s training drills. She had a vague idea of what was going on. Her only real opinion on it was that it was a happy thing, and she needed to buy some congratulatory gifts for it later.

Mr. Nothing, in contrast, was fanning himself nervously. Of course, he also thought it was something to celebrate. But it felt like he’d just learned something he wasn’t supposed to. Considering the influence Mr. Lee and Mr. Liang held in their respective cities, isn’t the thought of their union kind of intimidating? Certainly, he wouldn’t want to be seen as a liability by either of them. So he remarked with earnest supplication that he was a trusted ally. Definitely not a loose end that needed to be taken care of.

“Rest assured, I would rather be shot and left on the streets to die twice over than do something disrespectful to you two, who’ve shown me so much generosity. Your wish is my command.” He bowed his head to show his sincerity.

A little dramatic, but their reactions were essentially affirmative. Good enough for Lee. He had bigger things to worry about right now.

Next, he turned his attention towards the other agency members, who didn’t look quite as surprised as the other two but still had an air of awkwardness around them.

“And you three. Uh, listen. We can talk about this later. If you even want to.”

It seemed that they were all feeling especially cooperative today, since the only reaction he got was a simultaneous thumbs up from all three of them. Great. He had their blessing. Probably.

Once the excitement settled down, the two men said goodbye to everyone and walked away. When they were both out of sight, Lee grabbed Liang Xun’s hand and started walking at an accelerated pace, dragging the other man along behind him. The latter had no complaints and allowed himself to be guided. It’s not the first time something like this has happened. Even if it’s been awhile, he’s gotten quite used to being dragged around by this person. Although by his own admission, this time he had been the one to cause them trouble.

Neither of them spoke at all during their entire walk to the dormitories, and Liang Xun was beginning to worry that Lee may actually be mad at him for what he did earlier. He wouldn’t blame him.

Eventually, they reached their destination, with Lee stopping in front of one of the many dorm rooms and using his ID card to let them both inside. The sound of the door clicking shut could be heard behind them, signaling that now it really was just the two of them. Liang Xun waited for a minute, in case the other person was angry and had any grievances to settle with him. But Lee said nothing.

He only stared at him with a difficult expression on his face.

Liang Xun knew that it was his cue to explain himself. There was no such thing as turning back. Not when he had already caused him this much trouble.

“I thought about it.” he started. His throat felt dry, and he had to concentrate hard to convey what he wanted to express into words.

“I couldn’t understand why I never noticed how you felt. And why I couldn’t decide whether I felt the same. But…”

He reached for Lee’s hands again. Slowly this time. So that they had the option of pulling away if they wished. When they showed no signs of discomfort, he continued.

“I think…I think I have been loved for a very long time. Ever since the start. The things which should have been precious to me became as natural as breathing.” Liang Xun squeezed the fingers that rested on his palms, thinking of unpleasant things, his regrets. Nevertheless, he kept going.

“It’s stupid of me to only realize how much I value something once I’m faced with the possibility of losing it. But I’m awake now. If it’s not too late, I want to spend the rest of my life making up for lost time.”

Frozen in place, Lee could only look at the person in front of him, completely unsure how to respond. Logically, it should have made sense. Why would this person come all the way here otherwise? Just to reject him? They weren't so cruel. Of course this was what they had been planning to say. But to hear such things come out of his mouth, it felt like Lee had completely left the realm of reality. Any second he would definitely wake up now. Just like all the other times.

Liang Xun could see that his words had been received properly, but Lee was having a hard time responding. This situation felt familiar. He recalled the last time they had a proper heart to heart. At that time, Lee had said nothing as well and only moved closer to embrace him.

This time he would be the one to do it. He’d had enough of being passive his whole life.

Without thinking twice, Liang Xun walked forward and leaned in to embrace him. He thought about the last time they said goodbye. About how the carp had been mindful to keep a respectful distance between them, and how much it annoyed him. He decided there would, quite literally, be no room for that possibility this time and pulled the other person in as close as he could. He heard the other person’s breath hitch, clearly started by the sudden intimacy. But he was satisfied to find that Lee only pressed into him further, burying his head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Now that Liang Xun had time to think about it, these last few days have been incredibly stressful and tiring. His chaotic thoughts made him unable to think clearly, and he found that he could barely focus on anything at all. But it was just that. A couple days. How long has it been for Lee, who didn’t even know whether he was loved back?

On top of all that, everything from his last visit made a lot more sense. Especially that misunderstanding with Ning, which he had originally assumed was Lee’s displeasure at his time not being respected.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was all one big terrible joke.

If I were you, I would have hated me by now. Even if I’m considered innocent because I didn’t know, I’ve done nothing but hurt you. How can you still love someone after all that? Maybe I really don’t deserve to hold you like this.

He had such a thought. But the truth was, he’d finally realized something. Earlier, he worried over whether he was the right person. Whether he deserved such an important part in his life. Now he had his answer. Because despite everything. Despite his frustrations, his regrets, his uncertainty, his doubts. He couldn’t stand the thought of another person being in his place right now. So even if he didn’t deserve it, he would selfishly take this position. And he would earn the right to be here just like every other accomplishment in his life.

He doesn’t want to give this person up to anyone, and he certainly doesn’t want him to be alone either. Such a simple conclusion that took him way too long to realize.

It would never compare to the other’s experience, but he finally understood to some degree. Why Lee couldn’t let it go after all these years, despite all the pain it must have caused him. 

Well, there was no point agonizing over the past anymore. Any pain in the future, they could bear it together. Besides, his personal philosophy has never wavered. Words are useful but it’s your actions that will speak for you in the end.

After some thought, he realized that he could start now. So while they were still locked in an embrace, Liang Xun turned his head to plant a slow and deliberate kiss on Lee’s neck. A message, clear and impossible to misunderstand:

I am no longer just your friend.

He felt the man in his arms jolt frantically, and he quickly thought to apologize for being too sudden. Before he could, the other person recovered and tightened their arms around him. From the direction he was facing, Liang Xun noticed a thick and beautiful tail swaying haphazardly. A reaction that was far too honest.

Lee, you are so…

If it were possible, Liang Xun wouldn’t have minded staying like this for a while. But eventually it was Lee who pulled away and cleared his throat to speak, doing his best to regain his composure.

“I never thought I’d be saying this, but…let’s hold off on things for now. I’ll be leaving for my mission in a few hours. It’s, uh, not good to get carried away.”

Liang Xun accepted his words. At the end of the day, they were working adults who have definitely spent too much time messing around. Anyway, the situation is as Miss Hoshiguma had told them earlier. Even if they were apart, it certainly didn’t mean the end. Rather, this was more like the beginning. An embarrassingly late one he felt, but better late than never at all.

Lee admitted with a yawn that he was still tired from traveling and honestly exhausted from the day’s events too. If it had been like before, Liang Xun would have excused himself so that his friend could rest. But he had nowhere else to go. Or maybe it was that he had nowhere he wanted to go. So he sat down and talked with Lee a bit more, while the other changed and got himself situated comfortably in the bed.

As expected, the Lung’s responses soon began to trail off, and he eventually fell asleep. Looking at him now, Liang Xun thinks that this really is just like last time. To be honest, it felt like only a few things had actually changed between them. But a lot more of it made sense now. Like all the small pieces had finally fallen into place, and the distance between them had been crossed for good.

The conclusion to what was already a lifetime’s worth of troubles, although there were certain to be many more. At the very least, he was glad that this person didn’t have to wait anymore. And neither did he, even if he never realized it until now.

__________________

When Lee opened his eyes, he woke up feeling groggy but well rested. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before turning to his side and found that someone had fallen asleep on the chair by the bed. The man had a reserved expression, the same as always, and his only indications of breathing were the light fluctuations of his chest. His posture looked too uncomfortable. The back of his head was unable to rest anywhere and instead leaned awkwardly on the back of the chair. It was impressive that he could even fall asleep in that position.

The impact of the day’s events slowly dawned on him as his mind began to wake up along with his body. He glanced at the clock on the nearby table and found that he no longer had the luxury of staying lost in thought. So silently, he got up and put on his usual coat, hat, and accessories. He grabbed the nearest pen and paper and began to scribble on it. In it, he left a farewell note as well as instructions in case Liang Xun wasn’t able to reunite again with the people who already knew him.

Having a note with his signature on it should get him far enough to get an audience with the Doctor at the very least. They could be trusted to handle the situation. The note was left by the bedside table where it would be easy to find. Before heading out, Lee looked back one last time to examine the man sleeping on the chair. 

He thought about moving him to the bed but decided against it. If Liang Xun woke up in the process, it would just become harder for him to leave, and they probably wouldn’t want to go back to sleep either.

Instead, he just thought about how he would definitely make fun of him again later. This person has the guts to stay in his room and watch him sleep the whole time but apparently not enough courage to actually get inside the bed and sleep comfortably. Stupid. Bad for his back too. He doesn’t know what goes on in that guy’s head sometimes. Whatever. It was more ammo for him to use later.

Even though he was told that the mission was important this time around, the process was more or less the same. Report for the mission. Wait with the squad until preparations are complete. Board the aircraft. Compared to earlier in the day, Lee had no trouble focusing now. So he did his due diligence and took the time to talk to his fellow squad members. He apologized for his absence in the earlier briefing and assured everyone that he wanted to complete the investigation and get home quickly as much as everyone else.

Then, something unexpected happened. Someone giggled at him. He glanced around and discovered that it was the caster operator who always wore a strange hat, the one who went by the codename Haze.

Seeing the confusion on the detective’s face, the sharp-eyed woman clarified.

“It’s only natural to want to come back quickly when you’ve got someone lovely waiting for you back home, isn’t that right?”

She smiled back at him, as if what she said wasn’t particularly out of place.

When Lee heard her words, he only responded with a groan and complained about how he was unable to stop his friends from spreading strange gossip about him. In his defense, this was fairly unexpected behavior coming from Kroos and Mr. Nothing. 

Haze observed his reactions with some pity but was not moved enough to bother hiding the truth.

“Hm? No idea what you’re talking about. The current rumor among the kitties is that you were seen holding someone’s hand while walking through half of Rhodes Island. Shocking for someone who isn’t fond of physical contact. And wasn’t the destination your bedroom? Not hard to put two and two together. Or are you saying several people imagined it?”

So it was his blunder in the end. He was so preoccupied at the time, it never even crossed his mind.

It was difficult to refute Haze's statement, so Lee gave up and chose to remain silent. He only did his best to maintain his composure. Too many people already have seen his embarrassing side today. Of course, some people nearby noticed and were beginning to look at him strange. Fortunately, he was quite familiar with the way gossip worked on Rhodes Island. There were too many people and interesting events going on most of the time.

The current topics would spread like wildfire but the contents were always changing. As long as he kept his head down, sooner or later everyone would lose interest. He could always ask the Doctor to keep an eye on things for him as well. Anyway, compared to the kind of secrets some people on that landship like to keep, being in a relationship with a politician is laughably mundane. Unexpected news just makes for juicy gossip. It’d sort itself out. Probably…hopefully.

Right now, he was fine with the way things were.

[mangoisms]

here's the summary for the first part and/or flashback of chapter 3 of wolves without teeth

the first part had reader coming back to the roof hurt after a fight and miyuki helped her. they have a discussion about what reader does and what fuels her, tying in the typical spider-man motto that 'spider-woman always gets back up.' for the flashback, it was just a dream about the first person reader lost on the job, asayama itsumi, after she was killed by her manager/stalker endo. we also see the importance of sunrises to reader, as asayama's dying wish was to see one and had reader promise that she would watch one every once in a while for her, which she does.

[kidflashimpulse]

Hey! I wanted to ask this anonymously first before I embarrassed myself but I just started my first young justice blog and I really need some help coming up with fic ideas, with writing, with a lot of stuff I'm a complete mess, an I was wondering if it's not much trouble, could I get some help?

Hey :)) omg that’s so exciting! looking forward to checking out ur blog :D just saying in advance to hopefully squash any worries and to scale expectations, i’m not the best person with communication and can take a while to respond to messages (also sorry bout the slight delay with answering this one, i do hope u see it i can’t remember if anon questions notifies the sender 😭). I cant guarantee being the most helpful person either but i’d be happy to try to help where/if i can :)

in terms of general advice for fics/writing which i think tbh is the best one (that i use to try to motivate myself to write for fics) is to just start writing! like literally anything, as soon as u feel like even a second of inspiration or motivation just go with the flow. Whether it’s one sentence, a paragraph or 1000 words lol, just putting words on a page is a great start already. It doesn’t need to be perfect at all, my first fic (unposted) ended up being long with multiple chapters and all the writing throughout was so questionable lol but i was and still am so proud of it! It gave me experience and the learning curve was inspiring that i was excited to try to write even more stuff after. I noticed with each chapter i slowly found a rhythm and improved step by step. Even if it’s just tiny things that u learn, it makes all the difference. You 100% learn as u go, even now whenever i post something i’m like damn i could make a million changes or be annoyed/critical at something but ultimately i’m just happy to have posted something to share with others and contribute a little something to a community of people who share the same interests as me :) and that’s rlly all that matters and as u start doing that u can develop more ideas and “what ifs” to explore i.e more fic ideas etc

in terms of structure for working on fics id say it rlly depends on the individual. for me i usually write a rough outline/summary of what the fic is basically about. I usually try to have key details summarised where they all connect until the end of the fic, so that after that’s done, u can then flesh out the individual chapters or paragraphs out better. But things like plot can also really change whilst ur writing! It all boils down to what inspires u to write.

It’s not bad to have no ideas, i think it’s actually super cool for people to start out with a really simple/basic prompt (maybe something like: oh flash family go to a restaurant or zetaflash go to an arcade or outsiders play board games (lol)) something like that and then u can expand on the story with dialog/events/characterisation/description that really fills it up and makes up the chunkier part of the fic where it almost at times feels like it writes itself.

also fics really doesn’t need to be long at all if that’s something u might find intimidating, my stuff tends to be quite wordy because that’s just how i write (as u can see from most of my ask answers where i just go on and on like can i shut up for once? lmfao) if anything, i admire people who can get points/description/stories across through concise writing or short stories! that’s a real impressive skill too

if u want to start writing fics to post, 100% start writing anything, literally anything and eventually u will manage to figure out ur own workflow/style that suits u best :) i’m 100% still learning too, i mean i have yet to finish a multi chapter fic, but by reminding myself that any writing is a good step somewhere, despite the slow progress, i can still be motivated to keep working on it. i hope these general tips managed to help u somewhat 🙏 again rlly looking forward to checking out ur blog <3

[bestbonnist]

Chapter 153.3

Yeah so this was borderline incomprehensible the first time I read it, but I did my best so now I have a pretty good understanding of what was going on. I swear this manga is actively chasing off its readers. I will be splitting this post into sections based on everyone's confusion: (1) general notes, (2) what the fuck happened, (3) why did this happen, and (4) analysis.

General notes:

Someone commits suicide this chapter. They shoots themselves in the mouth. If you haven't read the chapter yet and this is a trigger for you then now's the chance to mentally prepare yourself or read a summary instead. Additionally, I'll be discussing it with less gravity than I should be later in this post, so this is also a warning for that.

The “-shi” honorific doesn't come up in anime/manga very often so some of you might not have seen it before. It’s basically just a polite but uncommon way to refer to someone, and in addition it's stereotypically used by otaku. This matches up with my impression of Senba. It might be that he’s addressing Tonari like that instead of as “Tonari-senpai” because he knows that she’s an adult.

Mizuha really nicely summarized the main conflict between her and Fushi. Their relationship was initially symbiotic, with both of them selfishly using the other for their own reasons. But it gradually became imbalanced, with Fushi becoming aware that their attempts to help her were doing more harm than good, and Mizuha being encouraged to demand perfection of her surroundings. Then, they split up, and Fushi decided that they should never do anything for themselves ever again (this is a bit of hyperbole, but you know... not that much) while Mizuha learned that she should get what she wants even if it hurts other people, and furthermore hurting other people is actually a bonus. Short-term, Mizuha is winning/Fushi is losing, while the long-term conseqences of their decisions remain to be seen.

Mizuha doesn't give a rat's ass about her dad. Her reaction to his death and to Izumi's knocker almost dying are completely different. I mean... Mizuha's goal has always been to please Izumi first and foremost, and even if Izumi never said anything she definitely picked up on the tension between Izumi and her dad, and distanced herself from him as a more subtle way of making Izumi happy. I do think Mizuha cares about him, she's just used to sidelining him that she does even when Izumi isn't around to praise her for it.

What the fuck happened:

First part of the chapter is pretty straightforward. We find out that the girls are trapped in the school with a collection of baby knockers that can spit out an unknown liquid—presumably transportation for the knockers. Tonari can't leave because knocker-possessed flowers are swarming outside. I would like to know what kind of flowers they are because Ooima is prone to using plant symbolism on occasion and it would be nice to know what I'm looking at. Next, the gang starts breaking up and Mizuha gives an evil villain monologue to Fushi.

What Mizuha's getting at below is that if Fushi had insisted that Gugu stay in Yanome, then he would have been able to stop the fake-Fushi in its tracks with his fire breathing. I didn't get how Fushi throwing a tantrum would make this situation any better until now, but there you go.

This is where things get weird. I didn't connect the dots until after going through it again a few times, but Fushi is right in front of Mizuha's dad when he shoots himself, so as she's speaking and getting lost in her own euphoria, they've seen him show up with his gun. Ooima decided to obscure Mizuha's dad when he first appeared and the shooting itself, so we can only see Fushi's reaction to the shot, the sound effect of the bullet, and his falling body on the next page. Harder to follow than some other techniques she's used to hide stuff until the moment where it'll have the most impact (like Tonari's arrow in Chapter 153.1, for example, or Fuuna following Fushi and the others around as a ghost), and I want to say that it at least gets the job done, but I'm not sure it does.

I'm not finished with Mizuha's dad yet though! Because I didn't even fucking notice that he blew his brains out before I started writing this. The angle... his sudden appearance... I thought he shot the back of his head and I was going to claim that it was a knocker that did it because that's not physically possible. So his dead body enters and exits and the readers have barely registered what just happened.

Then everything goes to shit. Fushi wanted to save Mizuha's dad because he's a human person, so they jumped after him almost immediately and made the building because they needed a way to get themselves back out. It's not like they can fly, or have roots attached at the top that they can use to lift themselves back up. So: building. They turned into Sander, by the way, because he's a doctor and might be able to save Mizuha's dad. He's already dead, but Fushi doesn't know that.

I have no clue what destroyed the knocker cages: it's too powerful to be the handgun, and Sander doesn't have any firearms on his person. This is another example of Ooima withholding information that will be brought up again later.

This was also formatted in a way that makes it very difficult to process. Mizuha was previously holding on to Izumi's knocker and preventing it from going after her dad, but after hearing its declaration of love her grip loosens, and it slips and falls. Mizuha reaches out to save it, and it's unclear if she fell intentionally or also slipped, but she lost her footing while Ooima was drawing a close up of her left eye. But we don't realize what's happened until Yuuki's suddenly catching Mizuha on the next page, which makes it feel like there was a gap in time, or we missed something.

Why did this happen:

I'm going to argue that there was actually a reason that everything went down this way and that the second half of the chapter was intentionally disjointed to reflect Mizuha's psyche as everything came crashing down around her. I admit, when the ground split open in the last chapter and monitors started descending from the ceiling I thought "this is so fucking ugly" because Ooima kept adding more random shit and although it didn't require rereading to understand what was going on, it was still cluttered and hostile.

But think of it this way: on the surface, Mizuha is—not calm, but confident. She's convinced that her choice to become the Defense Corps.' new leader was right. She's engorged on her selfishness and the suffering of everyone around her. Her thinking is as it always was, in black and white, reflected by the initial simplicity of the knockers' lair: bare-bones metal plating twisted into a throne, a carpet, a table, and nothing else.

As the scene continues, however, we see that not everything is as it appears. The spectacle is to distract from the reality of the situation—that Mizuha is barely keeping it together and needs to keep hurting people in order to feel happy. This is unsustainable, she needs to keep bringing in new toys to play with, but it doesn't change the fact that she's trapped underground and every new thing that comes in is eating into her already limited space. This sort of works as a metaphor for Mizuha ceding control of her body to the left hand, because like... she agreed to collaborate with it so it could help her, but now she's being pushed out, or something. Not that I have solid evidence that this is the left hand's goal, other than its attempt to isolate Mizuha from Izumi, Fushi, Hanna, and anyone besides the Defense Corps. that could lend her a hand, but I think whether it interferes in Mizuha's choice to take Hanna's hand or not will give us a definitive answer.

Anyways. This hidden chamber that took centuries to build was demolished in six pages because some guy killed himself. Dominoes of coincidences—that there was a hole in the floor, that the knockers chose a carpet with slippery fabric, that Mizuha's father wanted to die, that Izumi's knocker was genuinely in love with him, that Fushi happened to be trapped down there—lined up and toppled the Defense Corps. plans before anyone had even registered what was going on. This isn't really an issue for the knockers—they're tenacious. They'll just keep popping up like cockroaches.

Mizuha, unfortunately, is not a cockroach. Like when Fuuna confronted her in Chapter 145.2, she can act assured on the surface, but if the slightest thing goes wrong she'll lose her composure. This makes sense for her character, because she demands perfection and from everyone and everything, plus she's just straight up emotionally unstable. And, looking at this space as a representation of her mind again—it makes sense that one random thing (her dad) slightly out of place would wreck everything, because her faith—in herself, in others, in chance: you name it—is just that shallow.

That's about it, the only other thing is, it's kind of fucky that Mizuha almost died tripping on the red carpet that leads up to her throne.

Analysis:

Hanna pleads with Mizuha to return to her true self because she doesn’t want to see her friend like this, and Mizuha's response effectively proves that she didn’t hear a single thing Hanna was saying. This immediately assuming the worst of others comes from Mizuha's mistaken belief that everyone is as bad as she is: mistaken in that no one else around her is that bad, and she herself isn't (wasn't) that bad either. Even in this chapter, she still tried to keep Izumi's knocker from doing something reckless, and risked her safety to rescue it.

This chapter continuously beats up Mizuha's belief that everyone is bad: first with Hanna, then with the gang "breaking up," as Mizuha put it. Her comment comes off as especially obtuse, because, again, she's ignoring what's actually going on—that Nagisa and Kasabe felt they should repay someone who protected them, while Fuuna wanted to protect her family and friends, and Saki was so affected by Tana's death that she couldn't put herself together. Putting them in a dangerous situation revealed that they're motivated by qualities like responsibility and love, but Mizuha, being Mizuha, only sees their conflict and not the motivation behind it.

The sole exception to Mizuha's rule is Izumi's knocker, who "proved" its love during the confrontation with Fushi in Chapter 150.2. In this chapter, it becomes overemotional trying to save its husband, resulting in a tussle with Mizuha and a fall to its death. A conflict motivated by love like the girls at school, but now framed in a way that Mizuha can understand. Like Izumi's knocker reached out to save her dad, Mizuha reaches out to save someone she loves. She begins to fall, like Izumi's knocker fell. And Yuuki catches her. The implications that this is an act of love are not lost on her, but Mizuha has already decided that her friends don't care about her at all, and she has to be right. She has her pride after all.

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Red Witch

Jasper Hale x Reader part 2

A/N: So here is the 2nd part everyone! I hope you like it!

Summary: Imagine being an immortal witch from the Middle Ages and being the previous love of Jasper before he was turned. You two were separated under certain circumstances and cross each other’s path once again, years later in the present era.

Warning: language. Blood

Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

“(Y/N)? Are you ok?” You hear your friend Melanie ask you, her voice laced with concern as she places a comforting hand on your shoulder, bringing you out of your thoughts.

Your head was beginning to throb violently and the scent of everyone’s blood was beginning to reach you. You could sense their pulse, the flow of their blood through their veins, and a part of you, deep down inside, hungered for it. Not in the way vampires felt, but in a way that you wanted to rip their souls out of their bodies and bathe in their blood while you only gained more power. And it sickened you. It sickened you to the very core.

“I think I need some fresh air.” You turn to face her, only to hear her gasp when she stares at your eyes.

“What? What is it?” You ask her.

She pulls you to the back of the shop, making sure no one noticed before speaking to you in a hushed tone. “(Y/N), hun, I don’t want to freak you out but, your eyes are red.”

“They’re what?!” You stare back at her in confusion before pulling out your phone to see for yourself only to let out a gasp as well.

Both your eyes were blackened in this deep blood red that covered not only your irises but your sclera as well, resembling something of a demon from the pits of hell. You shut your eyes in response, not even wanting to look at yourself, the mere sight of your eyes horrified you.

“Shit shit shit. This isn’t supposed to happen. I haven’t had this happen to me in a long time, not since I was little.” You hiss, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Does that mean?”

“Yes. I let my stupid emotions control me. And now look.” You run a hand through your hair as you open your eyes back up, staring at the floor. “I need to go. I need to go before this gets worse and I hurt someone.

“Don’t worry hun. You go and sort it out. I’ll close the shop early. And please, remember to breathe.”

You nod in agreement before taking out a pair of your sunglasses from your purse and throwing them on to cover your eyes. You slip on your black leather jacket, grabbing your belongings and rush out the shop. With a quickened pace, you walk over to your 1967 dark blue Shelby Mustang with white racing stripes and hop in. You strapped on your seatbelt and put your keys in the ignition to start the car, gripping the wheel as you closed your eyes, listening to and feeling the rumble of the engine. It was one of those things that calmed you down, you always loved the sound of muscle cars.

Taking a deep breath you rev up your engine and drive off, the sound of your car echoing through the streets as you race out of town and towards the woods so that you can be away from from everyone. You had your windows down and your radio up, enjoying the feeling of the wind against your face as the scenery around you blurred past.

You pulled up to a small clearing not too far from the road and got out of your car. Looking at the trees around you, you throw your head back and take a deep breath, taking in the smell of the forest. The throbbing in your head was still there but it was starting to fade. You slip off your gloves and sit down near your car. Glancing down at your hands you noticed that they were turning pitch black with tendrils that seemed to wrap it’s way up your arm, like a poison that runs through your veins only to reach your heart to provide an inevitable ending. Your powers felt like a poison coursing through your veins, and the thought of it ever reaching your heart made your blood run cold. You also noticed that your fingernails have grown to a sharp point, like the claws of an animal.

Shit. Shit shit shit. You needed to stop this.

You unlace your black dr martens and kick them off, digging your toes into the grass and feeling the earth beneath you as you closed your eyes, taking deep breaths as you tried to become one with your surroundings. Earth, fire, water, air, spirit.

You hadn’t used your powers in a long time and were out of practice. And yet, you felt like you needed to. You feared that if you didn’t learn to control it, you would eventually succumb to it and then your powers would eventually control you. And that was the last thing you wanted. With a deep breath you open your eyes back up and stare at your hands. Using your sharp nail, you slice into your arm and watch as the blood slips out of your wound before swirling around your fingers. You try to focus on a certain object and watch as the red substance slowly flows together, forming a red dagger in your hand.

So you weren’t completely out of practice. You let out a sigh of some form of relief, watching the blade melt back into blood, slipping back inside your wound before healing itself. Then slowly, your hands and fingernails returned to normal.

Thank goodness.

After a short period of sitting on the grass and listening to the peaceful sound of the wind and the birds, you pull your phone out of your back pocket to look at the time.

Shit.

Your little sister Harper was going to be off of school in a couple of minutes and you didn’t want to be late. You throw your docs back on and get back in your car before starting your engine and racing off out of the forest and towards Forks high school. You had your radio turned up and currently Led Zeppelin was playing as you pulled up to the high school.

You left the radio on and got out, leaning against the hood of your car with your arms crossed over your chest. You stood there, searching for your sister and finally see her appear out the front entrance.

She had her backpack slung across one arm, her 80s style windbreaker blowing against the wind. She was wearing her old white sweatshirt she found at the thrift store that had Scooby Doo on it, tucked into her high waisted jeans that were rolled up to show off her funky new socks that she just bought because they had dinosaurs all over it. The laces of her white converse were hastily tied as she makes her way over to you with her head lowered.

The way she dressed always made you smile, she always looked like she stepped out of an 80s sitcom, and it perfectly resembled her dorky and full of life personality. Standing next to each other, no one would have ever thought you two were related, with your dark choice of clothes and her bright and colorful ones.

“Hey scooter.” You smile at her once she approaches you.

“Hey” she mumbles out quietly, pushing her glasses up as she gets to the passenger side, making you raise your brow.

Huh. What’s wrong with her?

You turn around to get back into your car before a familiar face stops you in your tracks, making your clench your fist as your breath hitches in your throat.

“Oh you have got to be shitting me.” You hiss, looking away once Jasper catches your stare.

Great, so Jasper and the other vampires happen to go to the same high school your sister goes to. Just great.

You catch Harper giving you a wtf look before turning around to follow your eyes to see for herself what you were getting so upset over.

“(Y/n)?”

“It’s nothing Harper, get in the car.” You shake it off as you both get in.

You sensed Harper watching you carefully as you start your car back up and pull back out of the parking lot. You gave Jasper one last glance, feeling him staring into your soul as you drove off.

How could someone you’ve sworn to forget, someone who didn’t even remember you, still have such an effect over you?

“So how was school?” You ask her as you make your way back to your home, which was located away from town. You could still feel her staring at you.

“It was okay. Nothing special.” She shrugs, looking at the road in front of her before turning back to you. “So what’s up with you? How come you’re acting so moody?”

“So what, you’re my therapist now?”

“Well you were totally chill until you saw that weird pale, Lestat looking dude.”

Did she just call him Lestat?? Wheeze!

There was a pause before her eyes widened a little. “Wait, is he? Is he the same guy that’s in your necklace?”

You clench your wheel as your back straightens up, using your free hand to grasp the intricate gold locket you wore around your neck. The one Jasper gave you many many years ago that he had custom made to have a dragonfly on it. The one you put a small picture of him in to remember him by.

“Did you go through my things?” You raise your brow at her.

“.......maybe.”

“Harper.”

“Hey! I was bored okay. It’s not like I did it recently. And you have so much old shit anyways.”

“Hey, language.” You shake your head with a roll of your eyes. “And it’s not just any old shit okay. It’s stuff that means a lot to me.”

“Looks like a bunch of ancient junk to me.”

“Oh so you’re calling me ancient now.”

“Well technically....”

“Harper.”

“Ok! Sorry!” Harper laughs before getting serious again. “But seriously though, who was he? You’ve like never told me about him.”

You let out a sigh, feeling a lump in your throat that felt like it refused to go away. “That’s because it hurts to talk about him. Jasper and I, he used to court me back in 1862. Harper.....we were supposed to get married.”

A/N: Part 3 coming soon! I didn’t want this chapter to be too long so I had to split it. Thanks for all the support you beautiful people! 😁

Tags: @twilight-kpop @cricketlicket @bella-stenbakken @ineffabledears @elisemurphy06 @ashdab2611 @pancake-pages @toomanybandstocare @cammellia

[lovingrosewho]

Fake Dating (pt. 5)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

It’s finally here! The last part of this mini-series! The longest part as well! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, thanks to everyone who reads, who comments, who asks to be tagged, you really can’t even imagine how much it means to me, the whole 6.7k total words of this fic are already worth it just because of you! Any feedback is highly welcomed :-) Did you like it? Would you have preferred for it to be just 2-3 longer chapters? Were the characters ok? Any thoughts you have in mind 🥰 Prompts “Enjoying the view?” and “I can’t believe you are actually wearing my clothes” taken from this post by @sinnabonka 💕

MULTICHAPTER

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Rating: T. Fluff

Word count: 2k

Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester need your help with a case, which involves pretending to date the King of Hell.

Warnings: none

Sam’s look is pure confusion, whereas Dean’s...

“What the hell?!” he exclaims. You can tell the only thing stopping him from punching Crowley is that the shock of the image before him has glued his feet to the floor.

“Now we’re in trouble” Crowley jokes lowly. You sigh and roll your eyes in boredom, standing up from the couch and walking over to Sam who is holding your coat with one hand and a gun on the other.

“Thank you” you say more politely than usual so they can note the irony “I thought I’d might die of hypothermia”.

Dean is still staring at Crowley, the engines inside his head must be running a thousand miles per hour deciding if to beat the crap out of him or thank him for keeping you alive. Crowley walks to you, noting Dean’s look and frankly, not caring, lifting your face up in his hands.

“I’ll be seeing you around, kitten” he mutters before vanishing in front of you, leaving you to deal with the family drama. You turn around to see the Winchesters looking at you expectantly, waiting for an explanation you’re not willing to give them yet, so you walk past them and towards the car.

The ride is tense, you’re in utter quiet, back on the passengers seat. You can see how Dean holds the wheel angrily, he won’t even let Sam put any music, even though the younger brother is just looking for the right words to say.

“I can’t believe it” Dean finally speaks, after a long-ass half hour of silence, and you snap.

“Oh so now you can’t believe it? This was your idea!” you reclaim yelling.

“Guys...” Sam interrupts taking a deep breath but none of you listen to him.

“Oh well excuse me for making you make out with the freaking King of Hell!” Dean yells as well, ignoring Sam.

The whole ride goes like that, screaming and recriminating at each other, Sam puts his earbuds on, massaging his temples with his fingers as well, praying to God you get to the bunker quickly so everyone can take some time off before discussing the whole Crowley and you matter.

After about fifteen minutes, you do exactly that, arriving to the bunker, throwing your heels on the War Room, not caring about breaking something, storming into your bedroom next, slamming the door with a bang. Dean’s about to go after you but Sam stops him, so he only turns up the warding as far as it can go.

You spend hours tossing and turning in bed, just to get up, walk in circles like a caged lion, and back to bed.

At about 4am or so, you can’t stand the feeling anymore and get out of your room on your tiptoes, listening to Sam and Dean snore through their doors, you take it as a cue to sneak out of the bunker as quietly as possible. When you’re on the outside highway, you call Crowley.

He appears in front of you not two rings into the call, with his hands inside his pockets and an intrigued look.

“So?” he asks heading your way slowly “How did the dynamic duo take it?”

“Not good” you confirm shrugging, extending your arms to hug him. He embraces you firmly, breathing in your scent.

“I’m sorry I left like that, but you understand, the hardy boys over there would have killed me had I stayed any longer. I tried to come into your bedroom but for some reason I couldn’t” he tells you and you nod.

“Yeah no, it would’ve been worse handling all that stuff with you there. And yes they... Dean turned up the warding” you explain.

“Of course” he says in a tired way, not letting you go.

“I’ll turn it down, they’re already asleep” you say, separating from him and taking his hand instead, conducting him to the door of the bunker, but to your very shabby surprise, Sam and Dean are waiting for you inside, Dean’s arms crossed across his chest and Sam’s mouth in a grimace, giving you an apologetic look.

“Dean, I don’t have time for this” you say going towards the warding. Crowley’s semblance appears calm and even a bit amused, but you can feel his hand slightly tensed in yours.

“Me neither, sweetheart. It’s late, we’re tired, and oh, I already lowered the warding” he says mockingly. You turn to him again, exasperated.

“Alright, (Y/N), we just want to understand,” Sam says, stopping another loud argument from happening “what the hell?”

You sigh, about to recite hour to hour what happened, but Crowley lets go of your hand swiftly and moves it to your shoulder, speaking up.

“It wasn’t her fault” he says, looking at both the Winchesters one at a time “If you’re about to scold anyone, Dean, it’s me, not her”.

“Damn right I am” Dean says, taking a few steps forward intimidatingly, but Sam, as the true moderator he is, raises one hand in annoyance as a heads up for Dean to stay where he is.

“Okay, then, Crowley, man, what the hell?” Sam asks, genuinely bewildered “We leave her with you for a few hours and-and, you’re kissing her?”

You can tell by Crowley’s look and stand, he’s doing his absolute best not to retort with some, witty-out of the place, comment. Since you’re still on top of the stairs, he snaps you both down to be leveled with the Winchesters.

“I like him” you say before Crowley’s even able to respond himself “I love him”.

Now the three men are looking at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“And I love her too” Crowley admits as well, still looking at you taken aback by your words.

“But you’re a demon” a stunned Sam interrupts the scene “Can you even love?”

“Yes, Moose” Crowley rolls his eyes “Apparently, since you two morons dosed me with human blood till derogation, my whole demon-system has... gone soft. As you very eloquently put it”.

You chuckle slightly, knowing that’s just partially true, even before they sedated him with that, he was already very fond of you.

Dean hasn’t said a word nor moved while Sam has been doing all the talking, but suddenly, he walks towards you and encircles you in a hug, kissing the top of your head.

“Dean?” you call unsure about this unexpected behavior.

“I know you know what you’re doing kiddo” he says almost inaudibly “I just... worry too damn much about you, but you can take better care of yourself than either Sam or me can”.

You feel a single tear rolling down your cheeks and landing on Dean’s shoulder. He separates to look at you, his grip on your forearms, a persistent form of protection and reassurance.

“Is this really what you want?” he asks carefully “Cause if it is... I mean I hate it. But I understand, I won’t get on your way. As long as he doesn’t hurt you. ‘Cause if he does...”

“You’ll smite me till beyond hell itself? Yes, Squirrel, we’ve heard that one before” Crowley interrupts him. Dean’s grip tenses on you, but he takes a deep breath, likely counts till ten, and looks affirmatively at Crowley “Good. Now that we could work this out like the highly functioning enemies we are, may I have (Y/N) back?”

“This is what I want” you say to Dean “It’s my decision”.

Dean nods, resigned, hugs you one last time and lets you go to Crowley’s side, holding his hand.

“Take care” Sam tells you waving his hand in the air. Dean is obsessively biting the nail of his thumb, probably regretting the choice of letting you go off with him, but it’s too late, Crowley vanishes the two of you and in a fraction of a second, you’re standing in his chambers in hell.

“That went... awfully pleasant” Crowley declares with both his eyebrows arched, just before he pulls you to him, still holding your hand and grabbing the one that was missing, putting carefully aside a lock of hair and placing it behind your ear as he looks at you in the eyes.

“Mmmh” you hum in response, throwing your arms on top of his shoulders and encircling them behind his neck, swiftly rocking you both right and left “Dean’s probably already regretting his decision”.

Crowley chuckles and nods in agreement until you yawn.

“Oh, kitten, I forgot” he says separating slightly from you, holding your face in his hands “You haven’t slept in... almost 24 hours”.

You yawn again just when yoo were about to retort.

“Say no more” Crowley says with a grin, clicking his fingers, dressing you both in satined pajamas. You laugh loudly.

“Of course you would sleep in satin” you mock giving him a playful look, taking his hand again, making him follow you to the bed, decorated with black gold and red velvet details.

“If you think you’re making me sleep with those, frankly horrific, band t-shirts you wear, well darling, you’re out of your mind” he affirms, making you laugh.

“What scares me the most is you noticing exactly what I sleep in” you tease getting under the covers, making room for Crowley to get in next to you. He rolls his eyes at your statement.

“You’re not exactly the dress-up type, darling” he teases equally, following your lead and getting under the covers with you, turning to his side to face you “I’ve seen you several times walking around in the bunker in those same t-shirts, a pair of pajama shorts and flip-flops. Which, by the way, you’re never making me wear either. Ever”.

“Yet” you giggle “They’re comfortable. And admit it, I look good on them”.

Crowley hums, extending an arm across your waist, drawing you closer to him.

“Do demons even sleep?” you ask when you feel drowsiness tugging at your eyelids, adjusting your head in Crowley’s chest, letting him cuddle you.

“We don’t, but we can if we want, for a few hours” he assures you “You sleep well, kitten, I’m not going anywhere”.

You nod sheepishly and begin to drift in the soft surge of your sleep.

When you wake up the next morning, almost afternoon, you find Crowley right beside you, still heavy on sleep, gentle breaths coming out of him as his chest moves lightly up and down.

You get up quietly, tip-toeing to his wardrobe on the other side of the room, losing the top part of the satin pajama and picking one of his suit shirts instead, putting it on, fastening only the three buttons of the center. After a few minutes, Crowley wakes up.

“Enjoying the view?” you ask brightly, turning your head towards him for a moment, watching him shift slightly up to a position where his arm is bent and his head is resting on his hand.

“What are you doing there, kitten?” he questions softly, his voice still husky with sleep “Come back to bed”.

You turn around fully this time and he seems to be more awaken suddenly.

“Everything all right?” you interrogate.

“Yes-very much so. It’s just... I can’t believe you are actually wearing my clothes” he exclaims, the corners of his mouth slightly lift “I don’t expect you to know how much that shirt cost”.

You grin widely, walking to the bed slowly, throwing yourself to it afterwards, not taking your eyes off of him.

“No. Does it matter?” you ask again, tone still teasing. He shakes his head.

“Not at all. It’s yours” he states, rolling on top of you, placing his hands at your sides, lowering to kiss you deep and passionate.

“You know I’m eventually gonna need to get up and get back to hunting, right?” you mumble, running your fingers through his beard and lips.

“As much as it pains me, yes. That’s why I’m intending to keep you here for as long as I can” he says, nuzzling his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“I could do with that” you tell him happily, entangling your legs behind his hips and your arms in his neck, kissing him once again. Swaying, tender lips across his.

The End

MASTERLIST // TAG LIST: @enby-thesbian @agent-smulder

[angryschnauzer]

Superior Specimen - Chapter 9 (Final)

Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig… and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.

Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Drunken Piggy Back Rides, Oral Sex (Female Recieving), Drama, Theft, Amateur Heroics, Hospital Visit, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Blow Job, Fingering, Lavish lifestyle, Henry is loaded, The Shard, Expensive Gifts, Sixty nine, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Angst, Argument, Jealousy, Talk of car crashes, heroics, rough sex, use of safe words, Anal play, Hangovers, Vomiting, Workplace Disputes, Crying, Declarations of Love.

I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.

I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here. Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.

Chapter 9

 You woke to a head that was pounding so much you thought someone was trying to crack it open with a hammer. Curled up in a huge white duvet you opened one eye and immediately regretted it, the hangover from hell hitting you like a tonne of bricks. Groaning you pulled the duvet over your head yet the pounding still came, and that’s when you realised it wasn’t just your head, it was something in Henry’s flat.

 Swinging your legs over the side of the bed you glared at the world around you, slowly walking to the doorway before you found the source of the repetitive pounding noise; Henry was running on a treadmill.

 “Morning Princess!” he said cheerfully, pressing buttons on the screen as he started to slow his pace.

 “Oh god, you’re one of those people that don’t get hangovers, aren’t you?”

 Stopping altogether he grabbed a towel that was hanging over the rail, wiping his face as he smugly swaggered towards you;

 “Had a bit of a headache but pounded that out on the treadmill” he wrapped a sweaty arm over your shoulders but you recoiled away;

 “Oh god… you stink...” your stomach lurched at the strong scent of sweat, and you quickly ducked away from his arm, running to the bathroom.

 As you retched into the toilet the contents of your stomach came back to haunt you, the acrid stench of red wine filling the room. With each burst you thought it would be the last, only for your stomach to lurch again and another mouthful of bile filled vomit to come surging up your gullet. 

 You felt a large hand press against your back, softly rubbing, before you felt Henry pull some of your hair out of your face. As your stomach continued to empty itself he held your hair without a word, before finally you were empty. He wrapped a large fluffy towel around your naked body as you sat on the bathroom floor shivering, not realising you were still completely naked. 

 “Hold tight, i’ll get you a glass of water”

 He disappeared, only to return as promised a few seconds later with some water, your acid burned throat croaking out a thank you as you sipped it.

 At arms length he lightly cupped your chin;

 “Are you feeling better now?”

 “Kind of…”

 “You really aren’t a wine girl, are you?”

 “Only expensive £600 a bottle champagne” you said with a weak smile; “That’s why i tend to stick to Gin normally”

 “Hey, let me get you some painkillers then i’ll jump in the shower”

 “Do i have to move or can i just watch?”

 “You can watch, you little perv”

 You smiled at him, watching as he moved around the bathroom before handing you some Panadol from the bathroom cabinet. 

 As he started to strip out of his sweaty workwear he decided to hum along to a striptease, making you laugh before immediately regretting it as your head pounded. You rested your head against the wall as you watched him get into the shower, the large bathroom having a ‘wet-room’ corner to it which provided almost no privacy, but as your eyes followed the bubbles as they flowed down each curve and plain of his sculpted body, you quietly got to your feet and walked over to him.

 Wrapping your arms around his torso you pressed your face to his wet chest, letting the warm water pour down over your body to help wash away the sins of the night before. There were no words spoken, instead he just held you for the longest time before reaching for a sponge and started to gently wash you down.

 -

 Sitting at the countertop you sipped on a cup of tea as Henry unloaded the dishwasher, chatting away as you nursed your hangover;

 “Did you want anything to eat?”

 “Toast? Can you do toast?”

 He smiled;

 “Yes, i can do toast. I’ll even butter it if you want”

 “Just plain is fine. My stomach is still lurching every now and again”

 Minutes later he was setting a plate down in front of you before leaning against the countertop, the tea towel hanging over his shoulder;

 “So, what did you want to do today?”

 You bit into your toast and shrugged;

 “Chill. Going to have to head back to my place at some point seeing as my week off has been ordered to end for my review tomorrow morning” you set the toast down; “Urgh, i hate catching the tube on Monday mornings, its always the busiest time”

 “So let me drive you” you raised an eyebrow as he continued; “Let’s pack your stuff up, i’ll pack a bag, and we’ll spend the night at your place. In the morning i can drive you”

 “You’re at the museum tomorrow?”

 “Not quite, but i’m nearby. I have a meeting with an international contact and then i’ll be making some conference calls from here”

 The rest of the morning was spent finding your belongings around Henry’s flat, he himself managing to pack everything he needed in the space of five minutes into a suit carrier and small holdall. As you left he carried your bags for you and still managed to open doors like a true gentleman. 

 The drive across central London on a Sunday lunchtime was slow at best, the streets filled with tourists and locals, out-of-towners taking advantage of no Congestion Charge on a sunday meaning the streets were filled with people that didn’t know what lane to get into or would stop at flow through traffic spots. When you finally reached your place there was thankfully just one space left in the residents area;

 “I’ll need to run up and grab the flat’s parking permit, otherwise you’ll get clamped”

 Running out of the car you ducked your head down against the light rain that had started to fall, and minutes later when you returned to the car Henry was already standing with all the bags in hand, before taking the permit and sliding it onto the dashboard of the Audi.

 “Urgh, c’mon, let’s get out of this rain. I don’t know about you but an afternoon on the sofa watching movies feels appropriate right about now”

 And that was exactly what you did. A movie marathon where neither of you were paying much attention, instead you spent it curled up on Henry’s chest, encased between his thighs as he propped himself up on one end of the sofa, the only times you were apart were for bathroom or tea breaks. Pizza delivery came and went, and as you tossed the crust of your last slice back into the box you sat back and groaned, before standing and unfastening your jeans. Henry sat back, his hands behind his head and a smirk on his face;

 “Ooh an after dinner show…”

 “Ha-ha… my head is still pounding, and now i’ve eaten too much pizza to get comfortable so these are coming off, don’t get any idea’s big boy”

 He pouted but patted his lap, and you sighed contentedly as you settled across his thick thighs, resting your head against his chest.

 The movie was halfway through when you felt him shift beneath you, and you became aware of his hardness pressing against the underside of your legs. As you moved he let out a quiet moan, you turned to face him he caught your lips with his own, the kiss soft yet demanding. 

 His hands moved to your hips and he was lifting you, moving you to straddle him whilst his lips never left yours. Your hands found their way beneath his t-shirt, running your fingertips over his stomach and up to his chest, feeling his coarse hair curl around them. In turn his own massive hands first found your hips, pulling you down onto his lap, before they found the waistband of your panties and he slid his warm palms between the fabric and cupped your ass, pushing his hips up to rut against your clothed core.

 You needed to feel his skin against yours, and with eager hands you pulled his t-shirt up, letting him take it off completely before he divested you of yours, your bra following soon after as it was flung across the room. Palming your breasts he nuzzled his face against the soft skin, his stubble giving a delicious burn that was only salved by his lips and tongue as they traced wet trails across your skin until he took first one nipple then the other into his mouth, sucking the hardened nubs until you were arching your back with pleasure.

 His hands fumbled with your underwear, trying to pull them off without letting you off his lap, but in the end with a giggle you stood, letting him pull them down before your shimmied your hips to let them fall to the floor. He quickly stood and unfastened his jeans, pulling them and his boxers down to his knees, sitting back down again and pulling you back onto his lap. You wrapped a hand around his hot and aching shaft, feeling the hard muscle beneath the velvet skin, your thumb gently smoothing the clear bead of liquid over the wide crown, before positioning yourself over him, dragging him through your folds to douse him with your wetness, before you slowly sank down onto him;

 “Oh god, Henry…”

 He smoothed his hands up your back, pulling you to his chest as me gazed adoringly at you;

 “Princess, you feel so good around me. You make me want to be inside you at all times… can you ride me, or would you like me to fuck you?”

 “Fuck me, but go slow… i’m kinda hoping the orgasm gets rid of my headache…”

 “Here… let me try something...” 

 He slid one hand all the way up your back, carding his fingers through your hair before gently grasping a large handful and slightly pulling. Your head arched back, the pull on your scalp just the right pressure and immediately releasing the tension in your mind. His lips found your neck, kissing along your jugular before his teeth scraped at your skin. All the while his hips made tiny thrusts up into you, your body taking him with a familiarity of an old lock and key, fitting together perfectly as you were meant to be.

 You could feel your body tightening, your orgasm imminent as Henry’s breathless pants and sighs filled your senses, the closer you got to the end the louder his moans, until you were coming hard, his hand still pulling your hair, and as your body clamped down on his you felt him release deep inside you, filling you with his seed.

 You sat breathless in his arms, his hands now resting warm on your back, your face against his neck. When he spoke his voice was low and you felt the deep rumble in his chest;

 “Are you watching this film?”

 “I don’t think i’ve been paying attention for about the last hour”

 He grabbed the remote and shut the TV off;

 “Lets go to bed”

 -

 Monday morning arrived and you could hear the rain pouring outside, making you curl up under the covers to get closer to the warmth of Henry. Soft cuddles turned into gentle caresses, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth whilst he still kept his eyes closed;

 “What time do you need to be at work?”

 “9am”

 “What time is it now?”

 You glanced at the clock on your nightstand;

 “Just before seven”

 “Hmmmm that’s enough time”

 He was suddenly rolling you over until he was pressing you into the mattress, your arms around his neck as he nudged your legs further apart with his knees, lining himself up with your entrance before sinking all the way in on the first thrust;

 “I could spend every morning like this… in heaven between these thighs…”

 He ground his hips into yours, a smooth curve as he managed to hit all your spots with every single pull and thrust, his efforts speeding up with each push until he was fucking you hard into the mattress, your back arched with pleasure as he did his best to obliterate your pelvis before the first working day of the week;

 “You feel so fucking good, fucking made for me. Can feel you squeezing me, fuck, i just want to take you back to my place and fuck you, have you suck my dick as i take my conference calls…”

 Just the thought of being Henry’s fuck toy was enough to make you cum, crying out as he increased his thrusts and fucked you through your orgasm, moments later shooting another load deep into your trembling walls.

 As you both lay there, bodies still connected you looked up at him and smiled;

 “I could get used to mornings like this”

 -

 You seemed to work around each other without any issues, both finding your places to do your morning routines, and as you left the flat ready for your day you chewed on a slice of toast.

 “Are you going to drop crumbs all over the inside of my car?” he asked playfully

 “Yes”

 “Okay then”

 Traffic through Fulham was busy, and you found yourself checking through emails on your phone as he swore under his breath at other drivers. One in particular caught your eye; from your roommate. Opening it you were surprised to see that he’d been approached by someone wanting to buy the flat as an investment, happy to keep your tenancy agreement under the same terms for the rest of the three year tenancy, with rent kept frozen for that time. Apparently the meeting was scheduled for that day, so he would know a more definitive answer by the end of the day. At least that was one thing off your mind for now.

 By the time Henry pulled into the service road at the back of the museum it was ten to nine. He waved at the security guard as he quickly ran around to your side of the car as you climbed out, kissing you somewhat more chastely than usual;

 “Let me know what happens. Yeah? It’s probably just because your little crime fighting incident, they don’t want to be sued for some minor heroics”

 “Mmmm. I’ll call you later”

 -

 Sitting in your bosses office you stared at him in disbelief. You had been utterly sideswiped by their ambush, pulling out the staff terms and conditions. The weasley little man glared at you from behind his desk, his ruddy face covered in its usual sheen of sweat and grease;

 “You are aware of the regulations regarding inter company relationships?” he stated as a question but it was more of a declaration

 “Sir, that is a load of rubbish. Everyone knows its direct line management. My relationship with Dr Cavill is of no consequence to my daily duties”

 “But what if you suddenly use it to demand additional leave or time off? Or to pass favour to gain a promotion” he closed the 300 page manual with a loud thud; “Rules are rules. It states no member of staff can engage in a relationship with a person of a higher position than themselves”

 You stood up, anger seething through your pores;

 “This is utter bullshit and i’m taking it to the director”

 “You will do no such thing, as he’s already in agreement. Your stupidity last week got us into the Evening Standard, so you are already on the last thread” he glared at you, not used to any member of staff talking back to him; “It’s your job or your silly little fling, you choose, if you are not at your desk come tomorrow morning at 8am you will have your employment terminated with immediate effect”

 -

 Henry was happy, he was smiling to himself as he slowly climbed the staircase in his building, swirling his keys on his finger as he whistled cheerfully. It may have been raining all morning but it had been a good morning; waking up in bed with you, the amazing morning sex, and then the meeting had gone perfectly, the long distance call working out all the finer details of a last minute project. Now he was looking forward to his afternoon of calls to go through the digs and projects he had planned for the winter. 

 However as he climbed the last flight of stairs he slowed, surprised to see you sat on his doormat, your head against your knees as you hugged your legs, soaked from head to toe;

 “Princess?”

 You looked up, your tear stained face making his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. He rushed to you, crouching down;

 “What is it? What happened?”

 You sniffed, a fresh flood of tears falling down your face;

 “M-Mr Taylor… he…said...” your sobs meant the rest of your words were incomprehensible, and Henry quickly unlocked his door before lifting you into his arms, carrying your soaked body into his flat and kicking the door shut.

 He set you down onto the sofa, going to the bathroom to grab a towel and wrapping it around your shoulders, before he sat on the coffee table in front of you, taking your cold and shaking hands in his;

 “What happened? Did you walk all the way here in the rain?”

 You nodded, wiping your nose with the back of your hand before you finally found your voice;

 “They found out about us”

 “Who did?”

 “Management. They were pissed that the Evening Standard ran a story about the robbery and how a member of staff saved the day. They don’t like press that brings to light any crimes that happen in the museum”

 “But… you literally saved the day! And what about us?”

 “They pulled the employee handbook out on me. No inter company relationships that cross between levels of management” you took a deep breath; “I’ve got to choose between you and my job Henry…”

 You weren’t paying attention, your vision blurred by tears so you didn’t see the anger rising within him, how he stood and paced to try and calm himself down;

 “That’s ridiculous! Everyone knows it’s ‘line management’. I’m going to call Piers…”

 He was referring to the museum CEO, but you stood;

 “Henry… its why i’ve come here…I have to decide today...” He turned, his face dropping; “... I’ve come to say goodbye”

 His eyes went wide;

 “Princess? Please…”

 “Henry, I’ve got bills, student loans, i’ve got to pay my rent…”

 He crossed the room, cradling your arms in his large hands;

 “Please, don’t do this… you don’t have to do this…”

 “Henry, i don’t have any choice!”

 “Yes you do! Don’t throw this away, this, what we have, it’s special!”

 “I KNOW! But my life isn’t some fairy tale, i have responsibilities! Even if i leave the museum in my own time, i’ll still need a reference, i just just quit!”

 “I FUCKING LOVE YOU!”

 You took a deep breath, your eyes filling with tears;

 “I love you too, but love doesn’t pay the bills…” you turned to leave, but he caught your wrist with one hand;

 “It doesn’t need to”

 “My new landlord isn’t going to accept ‘love’ as payment”

 “Yes he will”

 You stopped, looking at Henry, his expression softening as tears pricked at his eyes, his voice quiet;

 “I bought your flat”

 Your lip trembled, and with a gentle tug of his arm Henry pulled you into his arms as you sobbed against his chest, relief coursing through your veins. After the longest time he gently hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your face to his and you saw his cheeks were wet. Without a word he kissed you, his touch soft and caring. Finally you realised just how cold and wet you were, a full body shiver shaking you and he smiled;

 “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes”

 -

 You spent the afternoon curled up quietly sleeping on his sofa, wearing a borrowed t-shirt and work out shorts. Although the t-shirt swamped you, your ass filled the shorts out nicely, and as he wound up his final call of the day you sat back and watched him, listening to his conversation. When he finally hung up he set the phone onto the table before pulling you to sit across his lap.

 “The last time we were sat like this was 24 hours ago…” you smiled at him

 “I haven’t forgotten”

 “We should really talk. I mean properly talk, about everything…”

 He smoothed a hand over your hair;

 “You don’t need to worry Princess… i can take care of everything”

 “But you don’t have to… plus, we are rushing into things… i just need to know what happens if everything turns south in a few weeks time where we haven’t thought things through”

 He nodded;

 “As you wish… but i want to let you know my intention, to be utterly honest with you; you don’t need to worry about money. At all. Whatever you want to call this, whether its a sugar daddy or kept woman or a sponsorship, whatever, I have the finances for you to follow your dreams, i can make them a reality, and i hope you let me come along for the ride” he paused, cradling your face with his massive hand; “I’ve loved you for so long…”

 “Hen… it’s been three weeks?”

 “No, it hasn’t. I figured you would have forgotten… we were on a dig together. My very first dig as site lead, and you were in your first year at University. The excavations around Salisbury Plain…”

 “The Stonehenge route?”

 “That’s the one. I remember trying to organise a dozen Uni first years and being completely shit at it”

 “I...I don’t… how???”

 “I didn’t look like i do now. I was this skinny bean-pole, a mop of hair that was always in my eyes and i thought made me look like I was in charge or like a Professor should look. You were this wild child that was always full of enthusiasm, pink streaks in your hair and baggy combats that made you look like you’d been to a rave, you’d be out digging in the sandy soil in all weathers, prancing into the finds tent in all weathers with your t-shirt plastered to your skin from the rain and without a bra… i swear there were times i was surprised you didn’t poke someone’s eye out with how perky your nipples were”

 “I… I was rebelling against conformity... we didn’t believe in bra’s…”

 “Well i spent most of the six week dig trying to either hide my boner from you or attempting to resist taking you back to my tent when we would get wasted on three litre bottles of White Lightning from Iceland”

 You looked at him, for the first time you really looked at him, taking in the slight curl that was appearing in his hair, staring into his eyes and as you saw the tiny spot of brown in his left eye your gaze went wide as the hazy drunken memories of your first summer at University came flooding back to you;

 “Oh god… that dig… the last night I spent in the supervisors tent…”

 Henry smiled, a genuine soft smile that was unlike any other. He looked younger, the awkwardness of someone who in their mid 20’s hadn’t been confident in any way.

 Your lip trembled, and you nodded;

 “I love you Henry”

 “I love you too”

_________________________________________________________

Authors note: Thank you for reading. This has been my very first Henry story, and what was meant to be a oneshot grew into this epic 20k+ word story.  It was my first time in a very long time that i was writing ‘English’ characters, and this i made a deliberate mental note of to include a more ‘English’ dialect than other stories. Rather than Americanise things, its been kept as the names, brands, and places that i know and am familiar with. If anything has not made sense just drop me an ask and i’ll explain what something is in a more generic term.

I also know i could have taken this story on for thousands more words and multiple chapters, following the lives of these two idiots in love, but as this arc has now run its course, i may add to these two’s story by making future oneshots. 

Epilogue >>>

[olligreen]

No Bad Student | 3 -- Nice Things

{C}

Pairing: Lawrusso (Daniel x Johnny) Genre: Angst Warnings: Emotionally-abusive parent mentioned briefly Word count: 1566 Summary: KK2 AU in which Johnny ends up living with Miyagi and Daniel for the summer. Inspired by nadianecromancer’s comic, but I’ll try to avoid making any scenes similar to the ones they already did! Notes: This was originally posted on Ao3 here. I’m much more used to that format than this one, but I’ve seen a lot of people post their fics here and thought I’d give it a shot.

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The dust had only just settled as Johnny’s car pulled up beside one of the tarp-covered vehicles in Miyagi’s lot. It didn’t belong there, Daniel thought, like a hyena in a pack of dogs. Daniel stood guard as Miyagi paid no mind to it at all, heading back to his work promptly, as if leading him there was just another errand he completed.

Johnny slammed his door with no malice, but the sound still tensed his rival’s shoulders. They met eyes momentarily before he set out toward Miyagi, his steps purposeful. He stopped a few feet from him, crossing his arms and glaring.

Miyagi gave him a nod but was otherwise unbothered.

“So what’s this problem you were talking about?” He spat out caustically.

“Talk later.”

“What? What do you mean? I’m here, my car’s here, now tell me what’s going on.”

“Talk later,” Miyagi demanded.

“This is unbelievable! What am I supposed to do until then?”

Miyagi ceased his work, looking up at him. “Don’t know. Go home?”

Johnny’s eyes drifted back toward the car without his intention as he searched for a proper response. “How the hell am I supposed to go home without my car?”

Miyagi turned his head to Daniel, who was watching from the very edge of hearing distance. Johnny followed Miyagi’s gaze and scoffed, not hiding any aspect of his frustration.

Daniel’s brows shifted. “No! No way! I’m not driving him around!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Johnny retorted.

“It means I’m not doin’ it, dumbass! What do you think?”

Johnny’s eyes widened with rage. The same, purposeful steps sent him rapidly closer to Daniel.

Fear struck him just as aggressively as before, but he hid it well, as still and composed as a statue. “Look, I’m just saying, man, we’re not friends. I don’t want you around.”

“Yeah?” Johnny stepped close enough that their difference in height forced Daniel to look upward. He hovered there for a moment, letting his dominant stature assert itself before he spoke. “Well, I’m right here. What’re you gonna do about it, LaRusso?”

A sigh sounded from behind Johnny as Miyagi gave him a gentle push, bringing him back a few steps. Still, Johnny’s glare was locked on his opponent, whose defenses crumbled as soon as they separated, eyes looking anywhere but forward.

“Daniel-san. Move bed inside, work there.”

“What? You’re giving me work when he was the one who--”

“Go!” Miyagi shouted harshly.

After making a final, silent complaint, Daniel stomped off toward the house. He dragged the unassembled parts inside as quickly as he could since every second he spent in sight range of that prick was torture.

Johnny watched on with a sadistic grin, feeling, for the first time in a while, like he won.

“Why smile? Something funny?” Miyagi asked in his own form of sarcasm.

“Well, I--...” Johnny launched immediately into defense. “Look, man, you don’t know what that asshole really did, alright? You’ve only seen it from his side.”

Miyagi hummed in understanding, then gestured for him to continue.

“What?”

“Tell your side.”

“Oh… uh…” Johnny���s eyes glanced to the house behind Miyagi, checking the windows. “I--... Alright, well, first he stole my girlfriend.”

Miyagi hummed again, furrowing his brows.

“Well--... Well, alright, we’d been broken up for a couple of weeks, but--... But it wasn’t over, alright? In fact, we were trying to talk things out but he kept butting into it. And then the guy punches me in the face! Outta’ nowhere!”

Miyagi nodded slowly.

“And so I--… y’know, I defend myself, and--... and--... Y’know what, long story short, she ends up going out with him, and--... And then he dumps water on me for no reason, like an asshole, ruined my joi--... my uh… my costume, and then we chased after him and--... well, you were there for that one, but we were just--... It was justice, alright?! He started that whole thing.”

Miyagi hummed. “That everything?”

“Well--... I dunno, I guess I just--...” Johnny sighed, his voice solemn, quiet. “Y’know, I lost Ali to him, and then--... then--... You have no idea how important karate was to me, man.”

“Was?”

Johnny’s gaze drifted downward, his mouth hanging open as he searched for a response, but found none.

Miyagi nodded, letting the silence hang for a while longer.

But Johnny was sick of silence. “So uh… what about that problem with my car? Is it bad?”

“Car problem not bad, can fix. You problem more important.”

“What problem? What’re you talking about, man?”

“Your trip.”

Johnny’s shoulders tensed as he felt his ruse falling. Still, he tried to hold on. “Yeah, to Malibu, like I said. I--... my family has a beach house there.”

Miyagi hummed, nodding lightly. “What family like?”

Johnny kept his gaze behind Miyagi. It drifted from window to window. “We’re fine. Normal, I guess.”

“Brother? Sister?”

“No, no it’s just--... It’s just me.”

Miyagi nodded, watching Johnny's expressions intently. “Encino, yes? Very nice place.”

“Yeah.” He said with a shallow nod, his eyes drifting downward.

“Not nice?”

His eyes lifted, surprise behind his blank expression. “Oh, no it’s nice and all, it’s just--... I dunno, it bugs me when people assume your life is good just because you’ve got money, y’know?”

Miyagi nodded.

“‘Cause I mean, it’s all good stuff: the pool, my car, our house, but--...” His words drifted off.

“But?”

“It’s stuff. That’s all it is. It can’t replace everything else.”

Miyagi paused for a moment as he chose his words. “What missing?”

He sighed sharply in frustration, buying time. “My step-dad--...” The words seemed difficult to say, so much so that it stopped the sentence short.

Miyagi indicated again for him to continue.

“He just--...” His eyes moved along the ground as he thought. “He’s an asshole.”

Miyagi nodded, seeming to understand fully.

“Not just to me either, to my mom, to his employees, to everybody. Guy just likes being mean to people.”

“This reason you go on trip?”

His eyes went up to Miyagi’s again, the shock a bit more obvious this time. “I--... Yeah. He doesn’t want me around anymore, now that I’m… an adult, I guess. I don’t feel like an adult.”

“Know the feeling,” Miyagi said simply before starting off toward the house. 

Johnny watched as he moved away, then sped up to catch him. “You do?” He walked at his side, his gaze now fixed on him.

“Leave home alone too, just fifteen years old.”

“Fifteen? Are you serious? That’s crazy!”

“Hai.” Miyagi swung open the door of his home, holding it as Johnny entered after him. He took a turn, then opened a pine chest full of linens and cushions in plain, warm coloration. They looked inexpensive, but comfortable nonetheless.

Johnny made his own search with him, his eyes moving about the entry room, then he sighed in relief as he didn’t find who he was looking for. While he was distracted, he felt a soft thud as something hit his chest. Miyagi had set a bound bedroll against it. He lifted his arms to take the minimal weight of the thing, but by his expression, it was clear he didn’t know why. “What’s this for?”

“Sleeping.”

“Right, but what do I need it for?”

“Sleeping.” He began setting everything back into the chest, organized properly.

Johnny stared forward in confusion for a few more seconds. “Are you saying I can stay here?”

“Hai.”

“What?”

“Yes.”

“What--... With Daniel?”

“Hai... Yes.”

“Don’t you think he’ll have a problem with that?”

“Don’t know.”

Johnny watched, puzzled, as the teacher prepared to brew some tea as if nothing important was going on at all. 

It was only now that the surreal nature of the situation hit Johnny. He was inside Mr. Miyagi’s house, the same place that Daniel was given the weapons he used had against him. And yet, it wasn’t a negative experience -- not entirely, at least. He wasn’t sure what it was about the old man, but even having known him for this short of a time he knew that Mr. Miyagi was different from all the men in his life. He was better. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed to know exactly what he needed to hear, or his almost frustrating brevity, or maybe it was just the fact that he listened. He heard and understood what he was saying without forcing his own biases on his words. He saw his emotions even when he didn’t want to express them. Miyagi listened to him, and it felt good.

Johnny smiled warmly at the thought, but the smile quickly fell as he heard a loud thump behind him, muffled by the wall. Miyagi didn’t look up. He was too busy selecting a box from his tea cabinet.

“You sleep there.” Miyagi gestured with an empty kettle toward just about where that sound rang from: a door on the opposite side of the room. It didn’t exactly match the color or wear of the others, as it seemed it was just put there recently.

“I--... But--...”

“Hm?” Miyagi threw up a brow, looking over at the bewildered blonde only occasionally as he worked.

Johnny couldn’t seem to find the words to any of the questions he wanted to ask, so, with confusion still on his expression, he walked into the door, the bedroll tucked under his arm.

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[avversiera-writes]

‘till death do us part - chapter 7 [tobirama senju/you]

Chapter 7 - Make Him King

Summary: Tobirama gives Hashirama a chance to make it right. Unknowingly, pieces fall into place, pushing Tobirama to finally step up. 

Words: 3.4k

A/N: okay, somewhere in this series, i did say that Hashirama stepped down as Hokage because of his depression, his self-destructing way of gambling and maybe alcholism. I did not accept the fact that Hashirama's death was GLOSSED OVER, so I am slowly making preparations of how to go about it. Depression is serious, and it affects not only you, but the people around you. I hope I did it justice implying it here because you know this is the ninja world, there is no such thing as mental health to them apparently. I also did put in like little easter eggs that most of these characters here suffer a form of ptsd, exacerbated by the situations they are put in, but I will leave it to you to draw conclusions. Maybe it isn't enough, but the lack of evidence can sometimes be telling.

the Senju brothers will make up, they are siblings after all, and they have a really strong bond. these are just tough times.

anyways, get ready for the last chapter LOLLLLS 

cw // VERY SLIGHT knife? blade play??? listen to two weeks by fka twigs when you get to it HEHEHHE

available on AO3. 

<< Chapter 1 - Allegiances // Chapter 2 - Union // Chapter 3 - Love Like You // Chapter 4 - Look to the Horizon // Chapter 5 - Return // Chapter 6 - How to Steal a Crown 

While you dry yourself, Tobirama prepares hot tea and sets up the fireplace just outside the living room to keep the heat going. You settle yourself on Tobirama’s makeshift study in the living room, and study the ledgers he presented to you, and his upcoming plans that the village is gradually adapting. You sip at the hot tea, and thank Tobirama when he puts a thicker blanket on your shoulders and the two of you spend this late hour in silence, going over the papers that Tobirama arranged on the table. 

 “Tobirama, this is all well and good–amazing–really,” you praise him for his plans–they are more than what you can imagine. Tobirama has such an intelligent mind, and each time, he never fails to surprise you. “But, some of these take years and a lot of money to apply.” 

“I know,” Tobirama drones on. 

 “I do not know if the village will hold,” you say, trying to find the right words to express what is on your mind. “Appearance-wise, we are quite strong, but these...are incriminating evidence. Someone is always out there, looking for an in, a weakness, and technically, this is tyranny.” 

 Tobirama nods stoically, and his eyes darken. 

 “If someone usurps your brother’s place unexpectedly,” you begin, but Tobirama finishes your sentence. 

 “Then Konoha is doomed,” he concludes and he meets your eyes. You see sorrow and determination in them, his preparation to do the worst to do good.

 “Everything you have worked for, have fought for, will fall apart,” you affirm. “It is one thing to build these walls and these incredible infrastructures...but we are dust without labor and money and you know this already.” 

 You glance at your husband, wondering why you have to lay out his thoughts for him.

 Tobirama stands up and he starts to pace. 

“Tobirama, you know what to do,” you aver, and you set down the book you are holding. You watch the way his jaw tenses. “What are you waiting for?” 

 Tobirama continues to pace, and you can clearly see the wheels turning in his head. “He will never forgive me for this.” 

 You press your lips together, and you let out a heavy sigh. “Does this count as a coup?” 

 “What?” Tobirama snaps, his eyes getting fiery by the second. “Of course not. We can get a council together and vote. We’re not killing anyone.” 

You sigh in relief. “Well, good. You know you won’t stand a chance against your brother.”

 “I am glad to know that you have such unwavering faith in me,” Tobirama sneers. 

 “Okay, okay, calm down,” you try to pacify him. 

 “Stop joking around,” Tobirama commands. 

You gesture at him to keep going. You begin to fill your cup with tea again, but Tobirama takes the teapot and pours it himself. 

“I froze the village funds temporarily so that I can give back what was taken,” Tobirama says. “But it will not last.” 

 “My students are still in my family’s land,” you begin slowly. “I can write a letter and ask for some money to be delivered, if that can help.” 

 Tobirama nods, and he sighs in relief. “That will help. The other daimyos are still hesitant to loan money, and well, we cannot let the word spread too far.” 

“The daimyos love their money.” You sigh, and see Tobirama crack a small smirk. 

 “Now, obviously, this is a temporary solution,” you facilitate the conversation. “What are you going to do now? These plans...Tobirama, they require proper management and judgement, and from what you have told me, your brother is not up for this.” 

 Tobirama’s forehead knits in frustration. 

 “It is not betrayal,” you reassure him. “He will learn to forgive you with time.”

 “I will give him one more chance to get it together,” Tobirama asserts, but the both of you know well how things are going to go. 

You finally release a breath you have been holding. Things are happening too fast, and too soon. You are not ready to give up your husband for the village, but he is someone who never steps away from responsibility. Not when he has the means to make everything right. You wonder if you are encouraging another storm.

//

Tobirama leaves before lunch, leaving you alone in a messy house that for some reason refuses to make itself habitable. Despite your efforts of moving your stuff in, it still feels empty. For now, you just try to clean what you can without being too exhausted, and you peek into Tobirama’s study, trying to decide if you should touch anything and risk his lecturing about how particular he is about his things. 

You leave it alone for now, and you decide to wander around the house. You observe the garden, and the small pond in the corner, walk on the cobbled stone paths that seem to wind all over the place. The house seems very traditional compared to the small apartment that you used to stay in, that this transition to a bigger house makes you feel so little and vulnerable. You want to fill it up with something, but then you do not want anything unconventional in the house and alienate yourself from it. No, you want something inviting, and warm, a foundation to build a life on. 

 You are not much of a gardener, since you have spent more time holding weapons rather than flowers, but you decide to try your hand on it so that you can fill your time and occupy your mind. You go around the village, looking for simple decorations, and new curtains and bedsheets, seeds of flowers you want to try and raise, and you focus on your self-made tasks. 

While going around the market to shop for dinner ingredients, you spot Hiruzen talking to a lady with light brown hair, who seems to be looking at him, unimpressed, but you can spot the softness around her eyes. You decide to stick around, pretending to mind your own business, to observe what’s up, and when the lady leaves, you decide to approach Hiruzen, whose ears are slightly blushing from the encounter. 

“Hm, who was that?” You ask casually.

 Tobirama’s favorite student starts, and he turns to you, like you caught him red-handed. 

 You raise an eyebrow, and Hiruzen shakes his head, finding no reason to keep this a secret from you. 

“Her name is Biwako, she’s studying to be a medical-nin,” Hiruzen clears his throat. He relieves some of the stuff you are carrying. “How are you and Tobirama-sensei?” 

 You shrug, and you give Hiruzen a playful smile. “But I want to talk about you and Biwako.”

 “Sensei,” Hiruzen protests. 

 “Fine, fine,” you chuckle. 

Hiruzen seems to have grown older, it’s hard to believe that they were just pre-teens when you first met them. Now, he is even getting ready to date and it makes you almost nostalgic. 

 As you two near your home, Hirzuen’s face changes to a more serious one. He seems to be stringing the correct sentences to say. His forehead knits, and lips purse, and you sigh. 

 “Yes?” 

 “Tobirama-sensei met with my father and the other clan leaders,” Hiruzen starts. “Is something...wrong?” 

 You stare ahead as you walk, trying to think about how to go about this. 

“Your sensei will not penalize you for deducing on your own,” you tell him. “For now…” 

You stop short from the gate of your house, sensing a presence in it. 

 “I will take it from here, okay?” You send Hiruzen a reassuring smile, and take your stuff back from him. “I will see you soon.” 

Hiruzen’s puzzled look does not get better, but he does as you say and leaves. You enter your home and find your sister-in-law waiting for you by the engawa. You look around, trying to see if she brought her sons with her or her personal maids, but she is alone. 

 You set the rest of your things on the porch and you gesture inside to let her in. 

 Your heart thuds against your throat. Mito looks refined and elegant as always, and this is emphasized by the fact that the current state of your house is in disarray. You almost feel ashamed, but you note that the air she weaves around you is serious. You are not really sure how to act around her yet, but you remember her kindness towards you before your wedding. 

“I won’t be long,” Mito suddenly says. 

 You nod and avert your eyes as a sign of respect. 

“I know that someday your husband will be Hokage,” Mito folds her hands in front of her. “I did not imagine that it will come so soon, and in this way.” 

 “Tobirama is only trying to help,” you say evenly, but even to you, it sounds lacking and unconvincing.

 “Save your words,” Mito cuts sharply. “I will talk to my husband to step down willingly, if it comes to it.”

You look down at the floor. You hear her move towards the door. 

 “I hope that this does not cause a rift between us,” Mito suddenly says. “I do not hope to alienate you. I think we could be friends, if you choose to act on behalf of friendship. This is my hand being extended to you.” 

You hold your breath until she leaves, and you let it out, feeling the need to sit down. This is why you hated your husband’s politics. It suffocates and it hurts others even if you do not mean to. You wonder how Tobirama does it. He probably finds it fun despite the stress that it brings him. 

 You forget any thoughts of gardening for today and you search for your swords. 

// 

You twist the katana in your hand, slowly forcing the other half of your body to get back to working condition. It is not as flexible as before, but the pain is completely gone, and not even a visible scar is left. Focusing your energy at the point of the blade, you go forward and wind it back to strike at the air. Then, quickly keeping the sword in a straight line, you stab at the air, and your body fluidly follows to flip forward. You let your thoughts pass through you and you deliver them out, like an act of contrition.

 You flip your sword again, your wrist twisting to wind behind your arm behind you back, and you rest your blade on your shoulder blade. 

 Taking a deep breath, you wait for your heartbeat to steady itself. Sweat drops from your temple, from your neck to your chest, and the cool late afternoon that sweeps by immediately provides relief. 

 You feel Tobirama’s presence come up from behind, and you whirl around, unwinding your arm from your back, and you point your sword towards him. 

 Tobirama regards you, his face easing to a more smug expression. 

 You use the flat tip of the katana to tip his chin upwards, and Tobirama’s eyes narrow, anticipating your next move. 

 An inexplicable hunger tears through your body, and you bring your sword down to his chest, tracing lightly at the lines, until it stops short on his collar. The warm afternoon changes, and suddenly, your skin is humming and it flushes with heat. You watch as Tobirama visibly swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. You undo his clothes by cutting the front of his yukata open, revealing his naked and defined torso. 

Biting your lower lip, you lightly press the sharp edge of your blade to the center of his abdomen, drawing blood, and the sight almost makes you light-headed. You do not know what has gotten into you, but it makes you want to drink in Tobirama and get your fill. 

“Everything is arranged,” Tobirama states, and he knocks the blade aside with his palm, catching you off-guard and seizing the moment to his direction. Then, he grabs the blunt edge of the blade and uses it to pull you closer to him. 

Your mouth latches itself to his mouth and you devour him, licking the neck muscle that juts out when he flexes his jaw, and you travel further down, to the base of his chest and suck the blood that you drew out. Your free hand grabs at one of Tobirama’s arms to placate him and prevent him from touching you, and you look up coyly, meeting his fierce eyes. Then, you take the blade to his neck, and regard him from a distance. 

 In this moment and in another Senju household, Mito is talking to Hashirama and she is trying to steal him back from the claws of the demons that live in the shadows of every contrived reality. 

 And you are getting ready to throw your own husband into the fire. 

 “And if it doesn’t work?” You ask, and you meet his eyes levelly. 

Tobirama finally gives the words life. “I will take up the mantle.” 

You lower your sword, your emotions and the pride you feel for him clashing against each other. 

“I haven’t had you for long,” you murmur. 

 Tobirama stands there, unsure of what to make of your comment. “Preposterous,” he snaps. “I’m not dying.” 

 You raise an eyebrow. 

“You understand the responsibilities it demands of me,” Tobirama explains as if you already don’t know. 

 Gods, you have spent so much time fearing for him over it. 

 “Shut up,” you whisper. 

You plant your sword to the ground, and you go to him and you capture his lips into yours. Tobirama’s hands immediately come to your waist, and he returns your kiss with the same fervor. You take his face into your hands, and you relay to him your heart. You open yourself more and more to him, and maybe it is reckless. Maybe you will lose everything, but nothing is set in stone. 

Tobirama presses your body against his aggressively, and he carries you in a swift movement, and lays you down on your back on the engawa. He violently pulls apart your clothing, and rips it off you. His mouth ravishes your neck, the dips of your collarbone. His hands fondle your breasts, and kneads your waist, and you writhe under him, his every touch making you more euphoric by the second. You close your eyes, and you arch your body towards him, yearning for him to take you. 

 You gasp out your want, and he presses a soothing kiss on your collarbone. You hear his breathing, loud and overwhelmed, and then, he fucks you senseless on the wraparound porch of your house. You stifle your screams, as they sound almost guttural, but Tobirama takes your wrists and pins them above your head as he grinds into you at a rapacious pace. He leans over, and kisses you on the lips, insistent and tender, and you let him in, closer, and even closer. 

 Your eyes snap open as Tobirama ruts against you, and your hips and your legs shake from pure ecstasy. You see Tobirama’s eyes, and you feel his desperation and the fight that he has yet to continue inside his mind. 

 You bite Tobirama’s shoulder as you come, and Tobirama fucks you through it, his hips snapping wildly, and you feel him unravel inside you with a growl and you keen, tears involuntary flowing out from your eyes. 

You gasp, as your high continues to make your body spasm–every touch sends jolts of pleasure that wipes your mind white. Tobirama leans over you to cover your body with his, not yet pulling out. He plants light kisses on your temple, your cheekbone and your ear, and he whispers your name, and three words that he always saves for you. 

 Tobirama has only said it once before, but he has said it to you more than anyone has.

Your fingers come up to brush his cheek, and you hold him closer, showing him that you heard him. You feel his fingers clutch your hair, and then he slides his hand under the back of your head. 

 He meets your eyes and you remember him like this, all soft and broken open for you. This is the Tobirama that you have always seen beneath his many and complicated layers. It took a while to pry them apart. You want to hope for the best, but maybe Tobirama’s pragmatism is rubbing off on you. You know that it is simply time. 

You crack a tired smile. “You say the worst things.” 

 The surroundings are dark now, but you can make out the amused expression on his face. “I did say it first.” 

You chuckle, and Tobirama hooks your legs around his waist, and then picks you up by sliding his arms around your back to carry you into the house.

//

The council is gathered in a closed off room somewhere undisclosed in the village. This is a meeting about Konoha’s village funds, and a scare tactic to make Hashirama get his act together. The council filled with the clan leaders are eyeing each other, sensing the tension between the two Senju brothers. 

 Tobirama jots down anything that may be of importance, and when the meeting is adjourned, Hashirama abruptly stands up before anyone else could move. 

 “Alright, what is this?” Hashirama finally demands. 

 “Brother,” Tobirama interrupts. “Do you not mind?” 

 Hashirama seems to have grown his claws around his brother. “I do not like what this council insinuates.” 

The days of fighting are finally weighing on the two of them. 

 Tobirama watches his brother carefully, and he looks down on the paper, unable to read his writing. Technically, they cannot really abdicate him without the presence of the fire daimyo, so he does not know what Hashirama is talking about. This was only supposed to get the village on his back. 

“Fine,” Hashirama snaps. “I quit. You be the Hokage then.”

The room erupts into chaos, and Tobirama stares at his elder brother, aghast. Hashirama storms out of the room, and Tobirama glances at the council, for once, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

 Tobirama chases after his brother, and they stop moving once they make it outside. 

 “Elder brother, I beseech you to take back your words,” Tobirama almost sounds pleading. “The village still needs you.” 

 “I single-handedly almost destroyed what we built,” Hashirama almost shouts as he whirls around. “You know well that you are the only one who is capable of leading it, of making the harder decisions I could not make.” 

Tobirama crosses his arms, and he falls silent. The air grows thick with their auras, but it is not to fight with each other. 

 “I do not want to lose anyone else,” Hashirama confesses brokenly. “This village means nothing if…”

Tobirama angrily says, “If Madara is not here? After all this time, you forgive him?” 

 “You and your paranoia towards the Uchiha!” Hashirama shouts back. “He was a member of this village and you actively opposed him!” 

 “I did what I had to do!” Tobirama snaps steely. “For you! For this village!” 

 “Keep telling yourself that!” 

Tobirama shuts his mouth, and he backs off. 

 A breeze passes by, carrying the sound of rustling leaves. 

Tobirama lets out a shaky breath. “Brother, please.” 

 Hashirama turns to walk away, and Tobirama clenches his fists. 

“I need you to be with me on this,” Tobirama begs. 

 Hashirama stops. “You never needed anybody in your life, Tobirama. That’s why our late father left you to your own devices. You do well on your own."

 “Elder brother,” Tobirama protests.

Hashirama turns his head to regard his younger brother. “I will always be there for you. You are my family, but you must remember to thank your wife. I did not give you this seat.”

 Tobirama’s eyes narrow, and he grits his teeth. 

 “She gave you that seat, and now, she will suffer because of you.” Hashirama walks away, leaving a stunned Tobirama. 

He watches his brother’s figure disappear in the distance, and an impossible weight places itself on his shoulders. He looks to the sky, but it does not grant any reprieve, after all, he did set the motion for these series of events, along with his wife. He only has his ways, and his undying loyalty to his brother and his family. There is no time for him to consider himself. 

This is the way he has made it, but for the first time, he does not know the right from wrong below the picture perfect goal of peace, and their village. There is him, in the middle of it all.

  To be continued...

Epilogue: The World As He Made It >>

[rigelmejo]

fyi if anyone besides me IS trying out the Listening Reading Method - I have some tips you can read if you want (or feel free to ignore):

you should see significant progress within 30 hours. If you started as an absolute beginner, did what the guide suggests beforehand (learned some common words like a few hundred, looked at a pronunciation guide, looked at a basic grammar summary), then you should see SOME progress. If after 30 hours you don’t see any - you might be doing it wrong (or its not a method that works for you in which case don’t feel u need to waste ur time on it when other stuff might help you more). (http://users.bestweb.net/~siom/martian_mountain/!%20L-R%20the%20most%20important%20passages.htm)

Someone did L R Method as an absolute beginner in Italian (they already knew french, english). They took tests - were A1 when they started L R Method. They did about 30 hours of L R Method. They took a test again and scored B1. So 30 hours should see SIGNIFICANT progress for a language reasonably close to yours, and SOME clear progress I’d imagine even if it’s a less common language (even some gains from absolute beginner to A1-A2 would be solid and noticeable). (https://forum.language-learners.org/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=1721&p=99415#p99415)

Someone tried to L R Method mandarin as a proof of concept. So they only did several hours, and used The Little Prince (which is much simpler writing/language than the L R Method article recommends using). This is their results: “I tried Mandarin LR as a proof of concept a while ago. I used "The Little Prince", and did a few hours. The first couple of hours were exhausting and I was usually lost; by the end, I was associating quite a few characters with their sounds, occasionally understanding sentences in real time as I read along (knowing what parts corresponded) of up to 7 characters or so, etc. Again, this was a small handful of hours, as an effectively zero-beginner; I know some Kanji, but my active Mandarin vocabulary was probably in the single digits... I think this was after I'd studied tones/Mandarin phonology relatively intensively, but I don't recall for certain.” So - within a handful of hours, someone saw language improvement in Mandarin as a total beginner (http://how-to-learn-any-language.com/forum/forum_posts.asp?TID=38593)

I personally have been trying L R Method as a beginner-intermediate ish learner. What I noticed: without a parallel text (so just using english text for step 3) I improved listening comprehension of words I already partly knew (through reading) FIRST. I also picked up some new words, but listening comprehension of words I knew improved most noticeably the first 10ish hours I did L R Method. Using Pleco’s dictation tool for step 3 (so instead of english text, I use chinese text where the english definition auto-pops up as the audio reads each word), or using a parallel text (so chinese and english visible at same time), both VASTLY improved how many new words I pick up per session. For me at least, seeing the chinese text to keep my place in the audio, and seeing easier what audio matches to what english definition, lets me learn new words faster. Since I waste much less effort trying to just keep the text/audio matched up. 

So if the effort of matching up text is draining to you (like it is to me), I recommend: getting an audiobook and chinese text that match as closely as possible. And getting either a parallel text, or using Pleco’s dictation tool in the Reader, or something similar (Pleco’s dictation tool is a lot like using a word by word chinese/english translated text). 

Step 2 seems very useful for: giving you context prior to step 3, practicing reading comprehension and reading speed, listening practice with the chinese(target language) spelling visible, and reinforcing what’s learned in prior step 3′s. 

Step 3 does seem useful the more you repeat it (I’m just lazy).

Test yourself by trying to LISTEN ONLY every once in a while. You should be noticing some improvements in your listening comprehension - the audiobook chapters you should follow more parts, a show without subtitles you might recognize more dialogue, etc. If your listening comprehension itself is not improving to some noticeable degree after 10+ hours of L R Method you may either be doing L R Method wrong, or its just not useful for you.

To see considerable progress in language abilities, it may take 50-100 hours. Or even 100-300. The article linked above, the person who does L R Method (aYa) would usually do at least 30 hours, then 50-100 for a language - eventually also doing step 4 shadowing, step 5 translating back and forth. For less-closely related languages, people mention having done it for a few hundred hours. So do NOT expect total beginner to Fluent in 30 hours. I simply mean, you should expect noticeable progress after some X milestones. After a dozen or so hours you should be able to start recognizing word boundaries with ease, some short phrases. If you’re not a total-beginner, but beginner-intermediate like me, then you should start notice much BETTER listening comprehension of words you already half-knew from reading within a few dozen hours. Then after 30-50, maybe some dialogue understanding, some common words regularly understood, etc. Again - test yourself with Listening-Only every once in a while to see if you’re actually making any progress. Also to see if you wanna ‘alter’ the L R Method to suit your needs better. Maybe you’ll find a way to do it that works better for you.

For ABSOLUTE beginners, especially in languages very different from their own, at the beginning stages simply using sentences with audio may be easier. To perhaps learn a few hundred to thousand common words first - and/or using translations that are word BY word translation right under the target language word. To help with getting used to the grammar, all the new common words, the sounds etc. So materials like Assimil probably do this - Spoonfed Chinese anki deck with its audio/text does this, Nukemarine’s LLJ audio/text deck does this, Japanese Core 2k with its audio/text does this, etc. Clozemaster app might even be a nice beginner transition tool...

For the L R Method steps - really READ them and understand what they mean. Step 3 is NOT watching a target language audio movie with english subs. It is trying to comprehend all of the audio, glancing at the translation JUST to fill in the gaps for parts you can’t manage to comprehend (so for looking up words here and there). While you’re supposed to ‘follow along’ with the translation text, you do NOT tune out the audio. The audio should be your main focus, keeping in line with the translation text is so you can REFERENCE it when you hear a word/phrase/sentence you don’t fully comprehend. And I am guessing step 3 is suggested to be done multiple times so that each time you need the translation less.

 L R Method works best with very vocabulary rich, long texts. If you use a simple text, or a short one (3 hours of audio for example), there’s only so much you’ll be able to learn from it. For example The Little Prince only has a vocabulary of 2000-3000 unique words, 1200ish hanzi in it - so even if you learned it entirely, repeating it over and over, that’s not a lot of info. Particularly if you don’t plan to repeat things, it’s probably going to serve your time better to pick rich vocabulary long texts (so you can pick up tons of words just through one pass through the book, and if you choose to repeat the book, pick up tons more words, before you start running into the rarely used words which will be harder to pick up). 

I am mentioning all this, because I saw someone who did L R method for mandarin for hundreds of hours, and does not have natural listening yet - so cannot follow a new audiobook listening-only, cannot follow a show listening-only. Considering that people have demonstrated they made some progress in 5-10 hours for Mandarin, and 30 hours for Italian, then 300 hours in Mandarin might be able to make more progress. I’ve done maybe 20-30 hours of L R Method so far, and already find I can now listen to at Least the audiobook of the book I’m L R Method-ing now without the text, and follow the main scenes fine. With simpler audio, if I have a visual cue (like acting scenes, or pictures) I find I can follow the main idea much easier than I could before. So I just think... if you are seeing very little noticeable progress after 30-50 hours, the method may not be giving you benefits as quickly as you might want a study method to show improvements. I think if something isn’t giving you some improvement after X effort, you don’t need to stick with it if something else helps you more.

Other factors that may affect this: 

I had some reading basis before I started L R Method. This might have helped me as far as how fast a rate L R Method is helping my progress. For an example: when I simply do step 2 ON ITS OWN I see improvements - because it helps me read through a chapter as fast as the audio, matches audio to the spelling I might already know, and I already can understand enough when reading at that speed to follow the general plot (so step 2 gives me context and increased plot understanding). Therefore, when I do step 3, I can really primarily put my attention on learning to recognize the SOUND of what I already understood - and on learning a few new keywords I already JUST saw and realized I didn’t know. Basically I can use L R Method to quickly pinpoint areas I’m weaker in, while practicing what I can already do. A total beginner won’t have the ‘practice what they already know’ benefit. (Genuinely though step 2 is helping my reading SO much and I know that’s in part due to my current reading comprehension level).

Also I have seen an example of someone who did L R Method while already B2 in Italian - he was aiming for C1. He noticed less drastic improvement after 40 hours - he did still notice some, like easier listening comprehension for shows and conversations. But he did not reach C1 listening/reading skills. So from this we see: L R Method might help you improve faster if you start off with more you still need to learn (which makes sense, since as the words you need to learn get rarer you will run into them less frequently in L R Method). Also, the gap from B2-C1 may be bigger than the gap from A1-B1? Also what I took from his example, is repeating step 3 multiple times becomes MORE important as you’re more intermediate-advanced. I would guess because you probably have less frequently occurring words/grammar to learn, so repeating content WITH those things in it is a way to get more exposure (whereas just going over it once then moving on is Not going to expose you to it much). Also step 3, if you really look away from the transcript for most of it, allows you to really practice listening comprehension. Also shadowing/translating, steps 4 and 5, may be of more benefit to an intermediate-advanced learner. Since shadowing may be doable for them now, and translation may be doable (and hone in on skills more). So... I would guess either the gap you have to bridge as an intermediate-advanced learner is bigger, and/or you just need to do more challenging aspects of L R Method to get similar frequency of benefits you would’ve saw at the beginning stages. 

[imjusthereforbatfam]

Never-Ending Encore, ch 8

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Chapter Summary: Yes, this is Gotham City but helping people isn’t a CRIME, Red Hood! Eden’s not afraid of some crazy nutzos! Er, well… Okay, maybe she’s a little afraid of some crazy nutzos, but… But that’s not gonna stop her from helping people when she can! 😤

Warnings: minor swearing, very minor mentions of suic*de and previous suic*dal behavior, very minor mentions of previous abuse, abuse forgiven/excused by victim (which I personally don't care for but this is how Eden currently handles/perceives her trauma so...)

---

Eden sat down at the table with a content sigh. The heavenly aroma of homemade garlic bread was more prominent now that the rolls were right in front of her. The scent, mixed with the expectation of company and the eagerness of having some Mad Mountain Fudge chilling in her fridge, made her feel incredibly at-home. Though, to be fair, it was more of a hope for company than an expectation.

Red Hood said he’d try to come this night or the next, but that didn’t necessarily mean he would. Admittedly, Eden's shier half – which vividly recalled Aaron’s earlier, uh… praises toward Red Hood��s… physique – wouldn’t entirely mind waiting a few days to see him. The rest of her was so excited, though, that she had to keep reminding herself it was okay if he didn’t come tonight. It wouldn’t be the end of the world. He was a busy man, after all, saving dumbasses like herself and doing… whatever an ex-mob boss might do to make a place like Gotham better.

Not that any of that stopped her from hoping he would come, of course. Nor would it stop her from being disappointed if he didn’t. Even so, Eden knew she was just one, very small person among a million other very small people in this city. She understood that visiting a random civilian like her, even with the world's greatest fudge in her fridge, couldn't rank very high on Red Hood’s to-do list. Especially in a city like this, filled with a thousand not-so-very-small people — many of whom were quite dangerous. 

Still, taking in her surroundings, Eden couldn’t help but smile. She was excited for him to come visit. The entire one-roomed apartment – not just the kitchen space – was clean now. She was back in the habit of making her bed every morning, and— okay, fine, the chair by her closet still held her not-quite-clean clothes, but at least they were folded now! Which was an improvement from the misshapen pile of before!

The once-crowded coffee table had also been improved. Now, it only housed her laptop, headphones, and one book (and notebook) at a time. The rest of her books and notebooks – aside from the pair she kept on the kitchen table – had a new home, piled neatly along the wall dividing the kitchen from the main living/sleeping space. They still needed a proper shelf, but the current setup worked for now.

Two plants with tall, twisting stems stood guard on either side of her slow-growing book collection, while a small, mismatched assortment of baby foliage in tiny, colorful pots sat along the edge of her kitchen table near the window. It wasn’t anything compared to rows and rows of crops back on the farm, nor the nearby woods she dearly missed walking through, but it still felt good to be around some greenery again.

Biting into a roll, Eden continued penning ideas into the notebook she kept on the kitchen table; new ways to make her place even homier, things that needed her attention, different possibilities to look into. Though it was the mortifying thought of Red Hood coming back to her apartment in its previous state that had spurred her into action, Eden now found herself genuinely starting to enjoy the little space.

Now that she was putting in the effort, her apartment was actually starting to feel… pleasant. Welcoming, even. And even though her neighbors were still ridiculously loud at times, Eden was finding herself happy with her little home. Enjoying the fruits of her labor whenever she paused to take it in... It was a very nice feeling.

Eden suddenly stopped writing. Her heart leapt in excitement as she looked to the far window, the one that led to the fire escape. It could be nothing, but she could’ve sworn she’d heard— The soft tapping repeated itself.

Scrambling up from the table, Eden flew to the window – nearly slipping in her socks – and beamed at the sight of Red Hood on the other side. He greeted her with a short wave of his hand.

“Hi there, Mr. Hood!” she greeted the moment she had the window open. “It’s so nice to see you again! How are you? Your fudge is almost ready, but it needs another couple of minutes or so to finish chilling. I hope that’s alright? I remembered you said you might stop by tonight, but I didn’t think it would be until later on so I— oh! Where are my manners?” She moved out of the way, her cheeks warming. “Won’t you come in?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” 

Eden smiled as he deftly climbed inside, pleased to find she could still easily recognize Red Hood’s humored tone.

“Smells good in here,” he said turning toward the kitchen.

She quirked a brow, glancing at his helmet. “You can smell with that thing on?”

“It has an automatic filtration system." He lifted his chin, apparently quite proud of it. "Keeps Fear Gas out, lets good-smelling food in.”

"Really?” She hummed, making a show of looking over his helmet. “It doesn’t look all that fancy to me, Mr. Hood."

He scoffed. “It’s a lot more high-tech than it looks, Cookie Girl.”

“Oh, yeah?” She turned up her nose, grinning, as she led him toward the kitchen table. “What kind of high-tech stuff does it have, then, hotshot?”

“All kinds,” he said unabashedly, not afraid to meet her teasing head-on. “There’s the obvious, like night vision, thermal imaging, incendiary devices, and high-frequency—”

“Hold on, wait.” She turned the words over in her head. “Incendiary devices? Isn’t that just fancy talk for bombs?"

“It might be,” he said confidently.

"You have a bomb in your helmet?" She made a humored face. “That doesn’t sound very high-tech, Mr. Hood. Or obvious.”

He hummed, leaning forward slightly, resting his hands on his hips. “You don’t believe me?” Eden could imagine him grinning at her.

She crossed her arms playfully. “No way. You’re just trying to get a rise out of me. There’s no way you have an actual bomb that close to your head. You’re not that crazy, Mr. Hood.”

He made an amused sound, tilting his head to one side.

Eden opened her mouth, then shut it. She looked him up and down, faltering. “Are… Are you? Mr. Hood, do you really have— Are you— Please tell me you’re joking. That’s— Do you?”

“Relax, Ede.” He said it comfortably, as if he called her that all the time. Eden blinked, trying to remember if he’d ever called her that before — or anything other than Cookie Girl. “It’s just for absolutely fucked situations where I don’t have any other options.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait— You don’t mean— You don’t mean—” She jabbed at her temples frantically, trying to sputter something out.

Red Hood watched her struggle until what she was trying to say finally clicked.

He jerked forward, his hands up. “Shit, not like that! It’s an escape thing, not a kill myself thing,” he explained. “I take it off and throw it like a grenade.”

“Oh. Cool. Okay. A grenade. That’s cool.”

“Breathe, Cookie Girl," he reminded her.

“I’m breathing! Totally breathing!” She took a huge breath for good measure. Then another. “Sorry, I just—” She shook her head, plopping into her seat. She looked at him, then, in realization, jolted right back up again. “Oh, sorry! Please,” she gestured to the spare chair in front of him, “have a seat.”

“I’m alright.” Red Hood leaned onto its back, watching her sit down again. Her face was red hot. “You okay?”

“Yes, fine, thank you.” She took a few slow breaths, her brows pulled together with worry. “Do you… end up in situations like that a lot? Where you have to blow up your helmet to get away?”

Just a few nights ago, there’d been an explosion on the Westward Bridge. One of her coworkers said a friend spotted Red Hood escaping the scene afterwards. Eden, becoming more accustomed to Gotham’s shenanigans than she cared to admit, hadn’t worried about him too much when she’d heard. In fact, oddly enough, she’d felt a bit proud. But maybe she shouldn’t have.

Maybe she was wrong to have assumed he was okay. Maybe he’d been in serious trouble. Maybe he’d needed help. Maybe she should’ve done something. Maybe she should’ve—

“Not really,” Red Hood answered, breaking her dizzying thoughts with a casual shrug. “It’s the last of my last resorts, and it’s pretty rare for me to be so off my game.”

“Oh. Oh, good. That's...” She sighed in relief, then smiled up at him. “I’m glad to hear it, Mr. Hood.”

Of course. What in the world was she thinking? Red Hood wasn’t some small-time, stumbling wannabe. Unlike her pitiful attempts at playing hero, he actually knew what he was doing. If she ever showed up to one of his firefights, she’d probably just end up causing him trouble and end up staggering home with a plethora of healing bullet holes and another encore under her belt. (Maybe two, if she was particularly unlucky.)

Red Hood pulled out his chair and turned it so that its back was nearly up against the wall beside them. When he sat down, angled the way he was, he had a clear line of sight of the entire apartment.

The move was familiar to Eden, but it surprised her to see it done so precisely and naturally. The only other person she’d seen do that – and do it like that – was Mama.

Mama always had to have an eye on her surroundings, so she rarely took a seat without her back against a wall or being tucked in a corner. The habit was one of many from her life before "Louanne Smith". They were so far ingrained into her psyche that if she ever tried to go against them the struggle was obvious to even the blindest fool. Though she feigned ignorance at having ever lived such a life, it had obviously taught her all the skills she now used to keep their “cousins” safe: how to observe and analyze even the smallest detail, how to fight and defend unflinchingly, how to disappear without a trace, how to… make other people disappear.

It made Eden curious to see Red Hood with a habit like that. On the bright side, it probably meant she didn’t have to worry about him the way she had been. If he was even half as capable as Mama was, chances were he could handle just about anything thrown at him — even in a place like Gotham.

But… on the not-so-bright side, she had to wonder...

Red Hood tilted his head slowly. “What?”

“Hm?” Eden blinked and realized she been staring. “Oh, sorry! I was just remembering my, uh… um… well, it doesn’t really matter, I guess. I just got lost in thought. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

“Right, sor— I mean, uh, thank you. I guess.” Cheeks warm, she glanced around quickly for something else to talk about. “Um, would you like some garlic rolls, Mr. Hood?” She picked up the plate and offered it to him. “They’re stuffed with cheese.”

He leaned closer to the food, inhaling it. “So that’s what smells so good.”

She smiled. “Try some!”

He started to grab one when his head turned toward the kitchen. He looked into it a moment then lowered his hand, sat back, and said, “On second thought, I’m okay.”

Eden lowered the plate slightly, surprised. She glanced into her kitchen, wondering what he’d seen to change his mind. The space was perfectly clean and tidy, as she always kept it. The only thing “out of place” was the baking sheet cooling on her stovetop. Any other dishes were already drying in the sink wrack.

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind… I’m happy to share.”

“I’m not interested in stealing your dinner. Besides,” he added in a lighter tone, “I need to save room for the fudge.”

Eden nodded slowly and set the plate down. Glancing toward the kitchen again, she wondered what had tipped him off that the rolls were her meal for the night. The empty baking sheet? The drying dishes? 

Always have more than you think you’ll need, she remembered. That was a tried-and-true rule on the farm. They never knew when they were going to have company, so there was always more of things than Eden’s family could ever go through on their own — more blankets, more clothes, more toiletries, more food. Especially food. If there were seven people in the house, they made enough food for ten, and those extra servings came in handy more often than not.

“Can I get you something to drink, then, Mr. Hood?” she asked, picked up her pen and writing the old rule into her notebook. “I have sweet tea, orange juice… uh, water…” She paused, thinking. “Milk?”

He snorted. “I’m good.”

She quirked an impish brow. “Does your fancy, high-tech helmet even have a way for you to drink things? Some built-in twisty-straw component or something?”

He shook his head, edging forward. “Nope. Sorry. No twisty-straws.”

“Your helmet can be an emergency grenade, but it has no cool twisty-straw thingy?” She tsk-tsked, trading her pen for a roll. “I’m disappointed, Mr. Hood. It’s like you’re not even trying to impress me.”

He chuckled. “I’ll get right on that, Cookie Girl,” he assured, a smirk-like quality to his voice.

Eden shook her head at him, trying to hide her grin behind the roll.

He nodded to the notebook in front of her. “What are you working on?”

“Oh, just some ideas.” She pushed it toward him, inviting him to look. “I haven’t been treating this place right,” she explained, pulling apart the roll. “Acting like it’s a prison when it’s a home in need of as much tender loving care as any other.”

Red Hood hummed, going over her lists. “Hard to make a home in a neighborhood like this,” he muttered.

“Doesn’t mean I need to let it sit and rot like I was. It’s nice to have a place you’re at least a little proud of.”

He gave a half-shrug and nodded.

He flipped to a previous page in the notebook, glancing up to see if she minded. Eden shrugged, knowing most of the pages were haphazardly filled with everyday nonsense that likely wouldn’t mean much to him. He looked them over while she ate and she looked over him, a little embarrassed when he started reading out random thoughts.

“‘Mary: Superfluous, plain but extra, well-meaning but unaware’?”

“Uh, that’s a… That’s a thing for work.”

“What do you do for work? Evaluate assholes?”

She laughed. “No, no, I’m a…" She fixed her posture, feeling a bit proud. "I’m an actress, actually."

“A professional liar? Great.”

“Wha—? No! Lying and acting are two very different skill sets, Mr. Hood!”

“Uh-huh. Sure, Cookie Girl. Whatever you say.”

“No really! I’ll have you know I’m an awful liar but a really great— er, uh, well, okay, maybe not a really great actor— I mean, maybe not a great actor either, but, you know, I— Well, actually—”

He snickered, then moved on to the next blurb he could tease her with.

“Are all your notebooks filled like this?” he eventually asked, glancing at her collection against the wall.

She gave a half-shrug as she finished the last roll. “Some are more coherent. This one’s mostly for stuff that pops in my head while I’m eating or in the kitchen. It’s easier to have my thoughts written down where I can see them instead of fighting through them all in my head.”

“Makes sense.” He leaned forward brazenly. “Am I in any of those thoughts?”

“Not any of the written down ones,” she said with a laugh, assuming that was the real question. “I’m not that dumb, Mr. Hood.”

“Good to know,” he said with a nod. “Speaking of dumb, though…” He leaned back in his chair and fished out a cell phone from inside his leather jacket. “I was wondering if you could help me connect some dots here.”

“Me? I don’t know what you could possibly need my help sorting out, Mr. Hood," aside from an urgent, impromptu lesson on goat milking perhaps, "but I’ll certainly try.”

“Oh, you can help a lot more than you think, Edie.” Red Hood set the phone down on the table and pushed it toward her.

Eden blinked again at his sudden use of one of her everyday nicknames, suddenly nervous. She looked down at the phone, at the picture on its screen, and her brows lifted in surprise. She immediately recognized the sleek, minimalist decor of Café Très Boissons and the slightly hunched, unassuming man who’d been taking her picture earlier that day. But more than that, she recognized the angle the picture had been taken from.

Turning to Red Hood, wide-eyed, she faintly recalled the faces of the boys in the corner booth. The younger two were obviously out of the running, but between the smiling one and the one in the red hoodie… It wasn’t exactly a hard leap to make.

“Wait, were you the guy—?”

“I have contacts all over this city,” he told her. “They keep me informed.”

Eden’s brow furrowed. She worked her mouth to say something, not really sure she believed him, but he leaned over the table and swiped the screen to the right, moving the conversation forward before she could. The new picture was taken closer to the scout and clearer than the first, better showing his face and overall frame.

“So imagine my surprise,” Red Hood went on, “when I learn a small-time heiress has a look-alike who can clock up a potential threat in a heartbeat, and it turns out that look-alike—” he swiped right again, this time to a grainy, blown-up picture of Eden, Veronica, and Aaron crossing the street “—is you.”

Eden stared at the picture: she and Veronica arm-in-arm, Veronica’s purse over her shoulder, a flippant expression on her face that didn’t seem to fit quite right. The picture was from an entirely different viewpoint, somewhere up in the air looking down on them, and of a far poorer quality than the first two.

“Security camera?” she guessed glancing up at him. His permeating stare was hard to meet through the angry “eyes” of his helmet.

“Traffic cam.”

Eden sank a little lower. “You’re making me feel like I’m in trouble here, Mr. Hood,” she mumbled.

“Aren’t you?” he accused. “You’ve practically got a flashing neon sign on your forehead that says In Deep Shit.”

 “No, I—!” She huffed and moved some hair out of her face. “I do not. I meant trouble like a kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar.”

“Funny.” He moved to rest his jaw on his fist. “I didn’t.”

Eden lowered her gaze, unable to meet the unbreakable scrutiny of his “eyes”. “I’m not in any trouble,” she muttered, rubbing her socked feet together under the table. “Not like that, anyway. I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Y’know,” he half-teased, “I think I’m starting to understand what you meant about being able to lie and being able to act.”

She struggled with a response to that. “What… What even makes you think I’m in that kind of trouble anyhow?”

“You want the short list or the long?”

She stared at him. His certainty was unshakable.

There’s no way it was that obvious she was in trouble… But it wasn’t deep trouble like he seemed to think. Just… ankle-deep trouble. That she was slowly sinking in. No big deal.

Besides, it wasn’t any of his business. Her “trouble” was just between her and her parents. And her siblings, sort of. And… probably the people Frank worked with... and for… But, like, at its core, it was mostly just her and her parents.

“It’s nothing big,” she promised. “Nothing vigilante worthy, anyway.”

Red Hood tilted his head, silently encouraging her to continue regardless.

“It’s just… family stuff.”

Just a looming fight between divorced parents; their adult child stuck in the middle and trying to put out the fire before it sparked. A totally normal thing for a totally normal "family".

Only, like… kicked up to a ten because Eden was a metahuman, her father was a superhero-obsessed farmer-turned-geneticist who basically stole samples of her DNA, and her mother was not afraid to get her hands dirty. Especially if she perceived something as a threat to her daughter’s well-being — which Frank’s recent work and actions could definitely be perceived as.

Plus, everyone in that facility seemed to know about her powers. Mama would not like that. That Eden regretted helping them – that she’d tried to rescind her consent, been denied, and her DNA taken anyway – just made the whole thing even messier.

The only way to hide any of it from her mother was to literally take the money Frank gave her for her "donation", run off, and hide away while she tried to string everything together. Because once Mama knew, Frank was a dead man. Unless Eden could figure out some way to cushion the information and keep her from digging deeper, there was no doubt in her mind that Mama would wipe every last trace of him – and his colleagues – off the face of the earth.

And Eden… Eden didn’t want that.

Despite everything he’d done and put her through, despite all the hurt and tears, part of her still thought of Frank as her father. As the man who read her stories every night and taught her to ride a bike and a horse. The one who called her “Champ” and always carried her up on his shoulders when they went into town. Who told her she was meant for great things, encouraged her compassion, always put her back on her feet… told her he loved her every morning and every night when she was young…

They were both older now, and him colder. He’d abused her trust and love in pursuit of his own goals. Again. This time with intent. But he was still the man who, above all else, wanted to help others. Eden knew that. He just… didn’t seem to mind hurting her in the process. And a part of her hated him for it, but she still loved him, too. She couldn't stand the thought of him getting hurt, or worse.

Which, you know, with her mama a hairpin trigger away from… removing him… sorta left Eden caught between a rock and a hard place. But, again, that wasn’t any of Red Hood’s business.

“It’s not that big a deal,” she stressed. “And anyway, Veronica’s the one with the scout right now, not me.” She swiped back to the picture of the man in the suit and pointed to him firmly. “He cared about getting her picture, not mine. Even if he mixed us up, it still means she’s the one in real trouble here.”

Red Hood hummed. The disharmony was hard to interpret, but she was willing to bet he was neither fooled by nor satisfied with her answer.

“What?” she shot back, crossing her arms, acting defensive to force the conversation forward. “It’s not my fault he confused me for Veronica.”

“No, but you wanted to keep him confused. In fact,” he reached over and swiped back to the traffic cam picture, “you did everything you could to make sure he thought he had the right girl.”

Eden lifted her chin, waiting for the real question. Red Hood studied her, possibly waiting to see if she’d answer it herself. Maybe blubber out something as she was wont to do. But she was determined to keep her mouth shut this time.

She tipped her head, politely prompting him to continue. When he didn’t, she huffed.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hood,” she said rubbing her forehead, “but I really don’t know what you’re trying to ask me here. I’m not a mind reader.”

He stayed quiet for a few more beats. His consideration shifted from her to the picture on his phone. “For now, I guess my biggest questions are why and how.”

Eden sat up a little. “Why?” she repeated, not sure she understood.

“Yeah. According to my source,” he said slowly, “you two,” he nodded toward her and Aaron in the picture, “figured out the scout was there for Veronica before she’d even entered the building and that he’d mixed the two of you up.”

“Right,” she agreed cautiously. “And?”

“And?” He gestured in front of him as though he’d clearly laid everything out on the table itself. “Didn’t it occur to you that if he saw the real Veronica, the scout would’ve pieced it all together and left you alone?”

Had that occurred to her? She couldn’t remember. Probably not.

But even if it had, Eden wouldn’t have wanted him to leave her alone if it meant throwing Veronica under the bus like that. Eden at least knew how she was supposed to act in that kind of situation, which was more than Veronica could probably say. And besides, no matter what might’ve happened, she would’ve been fine in the end. Veronica didn’t have that guarantee. Nobody did. Except Eden.

“It was better for him to bother me than her,” she said firmly. “At the very least it threw them off her scent for a bit. Hopefully, she can get some sort of security team or something before they get too wise.”

“They?”

“Whoever wanted those pictures in the first place,” she explained. “I seriously doubt that scout was taking them for his own sake, or he would’ve left the moment “Veronica” started noticing him.” She tilted her head at Red Hood and gave him a wicked smile. “Or did your source not mention that part of my theory?”

“He did,” he said simply. “All the more reason to want to stick your head in the sand, though, don’t you think? It’s what anyone else would’ve done.”

She frowned, finally realizing what he was saying. “You Gothamites are so weird. I’d have thought a vigilante would at least understand..."

“Uh, rude?”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be, but… It’s just I think I figured out what you’re really asking me, and Aaron and Veronica asked me the same thing earlier, too, and it’s just…" She shook her head, finding it hard to wrap her brain around. "Y’all…” She huffed. “Y’all’re just so weird to me.”

Red Hood didn’t say anything.

“Sorry,” she said again, more genuinely. “But you’re asking me why I helped her, right? Even if it wasn’t… oh, how did Veronica say it?” She turned her head, trying to remember. “Wasn’t my problem, I think? Something like that…” She refocused on him. “Anyway, my answer to you is the same as it was for them: because it was the right thing to do.”

Red Hood made a short, unamused noise. “The right thing was pretending to be that girl? Putting yourself in danger?"

“The right thing was helping her,” she corrected. “And that scout had already taken my picture anyway, so…” She swiped between the pictures. “At least I stopped him from taking the real Veronica’s picture, too.”

“But now he’s got your picture.” He sat back and crossed his arms. “Which means his employer’s going to have your picture. If they don’t already.”

“Which they probably do, since he was using a cell phone," she pointed out.

He threw his hands in the air. “Exactly! And he could be some sick, psycho fuck!"

"Well—"

"This is Gotham, Ede," he went on, imploring her to listen. "Even if they know you're not Veronica, they'll know you tried to fuck with their plans for her, whatever they are. People get themselves killed for way less here. You know that, right?”

“No, I... I guess I hadn’t really…” 

So that was why a lot of Gothamites didn’t go out of their way to help others! Of course! There was no guarantee offering their hand to one person wouldn't put a huge target on their back with another. And nobody in their right mind would want to risk gaining the attention of one of Gotham’s scarier characters. It all made perfect sense now. Gothamites kept their heads down and only focused on their own problems because they had to. If they didn't, they could very well be signing their life away. And when people asked her why she was helping others, they weren't really asking her that; they were asking her why she was so willing to put her own life in danger for someone else.

But Eden wasn't like them. No matter what happened or what anyone did to her, she would be fine. She was always fine. It didn’t mean she had to throw on a cape and go looking for trouble every day like Frank had wanted her to, but it also meant she didn’t have the same excuse as everyone else. If she could step in and help somebody, she should. She was one of the few in this town who probably could. And, most importantly, she wanted to.

“I still would’ve helped her,” she decided. “Even if someone scary thinks I’m her for a little while, or gets mad at me, at least Veronica is safe for now.”

Red Hood stared at her, unmoving. It wasn’t clear what he was thinking or feeling, but Eden could imagine he might not like what he was hearing. After all, as far as he knew, Eden was just a totally normal, would-die-and-stay-dead civilian.

“I mean, if they have any brain cells at all, they should realize pretty quickly “Veronica” doesn’t look like she should, right?” she said trying to reassure him. “And even if they don’t, all they have to do is follow me home once and they’ll realize they’ve got the wrong girl.” She pointed out the window. “Even a total rock-for-brains moron would start scratching their head if Veronica Bradford came to a neighborhood like this.”

He followed her finger, seeming to consider her words. “Maybe,” he acknowledged. “But they’d probably just say fuck it and stick around anyway. Especially if it was some goon following orders.”

Eden bobbed her head from side to side, agreeing with the possibility. “They’d still figure it out eventually, though. Veronica’s a socialite. And I’m definitely not. Eventually, she’d post a Snapstagram story or go somewhere fancy while I’m hanging about here and things wouldn’t add up. And if they were still convinced I’m Veronica after something like that, then I don’t think they’re smart enough to be considered much of a threat to anybody but themselves.”

“Everybody is a threat in this city,” he warned her. “And the last thing you want is some twisted mother fucker knowing where you live. Especially if they think you messed with them.”

“I’d rather someone like that know where I live and make my life difficult than let someone else get hurt or killed because I didn’t help them,” she said stubbornly.

Red Hood let out a gruff, half-groaning sound as he sat back to stare up at the ceiling. "Of course you would," he grumbled. He stayed like that for a minute, perhaps trying to gauge how serious she was. He sighed, apparently finding his answer. "I don't get you. You freak out when a stranger shows up to warn you inside, but the idea of some asshole coming here and actually trying to fuck with you? That doesn't scare you?"

"In my defense, this is the ninth floor and it was my private fire escape. I had every right to freak out when some big stranger with guns and a mean-faced helmet suddenly showed up out of nowhere."

He huffed.

"And I'm not completely helpless, Mr. Hood," she told him. "I have a little fighting know-how under my belt."

"Uh-huh, yeah, sure. And how's your neck, again?"

"My...?" She blinked at him, then remembered the healed cut and frowned. "Hey, I'll have you know I was doing very well for myself until I got stabbed!" she said pointing at him.

He looked up again, this time as if asking a higher power for help. “So if someone broke in here with a gun or another knife, you think you'd be able to fight them off?"

“I'd be fine."

"So you do think you could."

"Not really, no."

He stared at her. “Y'know... a little lie might be nice right about now.”

"I could 100% fight them off no problem, Mr. Hood."

He groaned, covering his eyes. "God, you are an awful liar."

Eden tried very hard to suppress her giggles. “If it makes you feel any better," she offered, "I wasn’t planning on it. Pretending to be Veronica, I mean."

Red Hood sighed, but he lowered his hand and gave her his attention anyway.

"Veronica’s not very… Well, let’s say she’s not the most observant person around. And I know my foresight’s not exactly great in the heat of the moment, and I might end up paying for it eventually, but… I couldn’t just... not do something when that scout noticed her, you know? She needed someone to help her and she didn't even know it. So I just… did.”

Red Hood let out a sharp laugh, which sounded sharper with the distortion. He looked away, subtly shaking his head. “So you just did,” he muttered to himself. He turned to her again. “Didn’t you agree not to do anything stupid before I came by again, Cookie Girl?” he teased.

Eden smiled apologetically, then turned coy. “I did try, Mr. Hood,” she said sweetly. “And I promise that that was the stupidest of the stupid things I did. Which I’m willing to bet is still a million times better than the craziest thing you’ve done since the last time I saw you.”

He put a hand on his chest. “Who me? Do something crazy? Never.”

“Uh-huh. You sure about that? Because I’m pretty sure I heard someone say something about a red vigilante being involved with that big explosion Friday night.”

“Nope. Wasn’t me. Must’ve been Red Robin. I’m completely innocent.”

Eden nodded along, not admitting she only knew of the other vigilante because she’d thought Red Robin was just another of Red Hood’s names until somebody corrected her.

“Oh, completely innocent, I’m sure,” she goaded. “And what was it that you were doing oh-so-innocently while the bridge was blowing sky high, Mr. Hood?”

“Hey, the bridge is still standing, isn’t it? He made sure there wouldn’t be any structural damage. Just a little mess of things. He knows what he’s doing with shit like that.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah. I sure hope he does. Especially if he also has a helmet full of explosives.”

“Not to worry, Ede," he assured her. "I’m the crazy Red.”

“Oh. Good. I feel so much better now. Thanks."

He laughed.

“Wait.” She pointed at him. “Do you both go by Red?”

“We do," he nodded, "but Double R’s usually Red if we’re using shorthand,” he said crossing his arms. “They call me Hood to keep it simple.”

“Oh, well, that’s not confusing at all. Though I suppose y’all can’t exactly call him Robin. That’d be even more confusing.”

Red Hood scoffed. “Demon Spawn would have an absolute fit if we did that.” He looked to the side. “Then again…” He rubbed his chin, seeming to consider it.

“Um,” Eden lifted a tentative finger to catch his attention. “I’m sorry, but this is Gotham City, so I’m gonna need you to clarify: do you mean, like… a real demon spawn or…?”

“I mean I think he is,” Red Hood joked, “but, no, not really. That’s just what I call Robin ‘cause he’s a little shit.”

She perked up. “You mean Robin like… Batman's Robin?” He nodded and Eden scoffed with certainty. “Well, he can’t be that bad, then.”

Red Hood let out a short, sharp laugh. Something about it a bit painful. “Are you an expert on Robins now, Ede?”

“Well… no,” she mumbled, a little embarrassed. “But if he’s a Robin then… I dunno. He can’t be all that bad.”

“Have you ever met the brat?”

Eden shook her head slowly, fighting the urge to scowl.

No, she hadn’t met the boy Red Hood was talking about… But she’d met one of his predecessors. And that Robin? He’d saved her life. Not just from a fight or another encore. She could handle those things on her own. Poorly, sure. But she could.

No, what he’d saved her from was a life full of fights and encores. And pain. Endless, endless cycles of pain.

Without him, who knows where she’d be today. Who she’d be. Certainly not the person she was. Not the civilian trying to make the best of an awful situation by following her theatrical dreams. If he hadn’t knocked some sense into her, she would probably be what Frank wanted her to be. A… A hero. A constantly struggling, hurting, dying, pitiful attempt of a superhero.

Robin saved her from that. From a life of wishing every day, every death, would be her last.

As far as she was concerned, she owed that boy every good goddamn thing in her life. So to hear Red Hood call her hero a brat or a demon spawn, even if it was a completely different boy, even if Red Hood obviously knew him a thousand times better than Eden knew the one she’d met… Well, it upset her. In her heart, “Robin” was still the boy from her childhood.

Though, even she could admit it was hard to remember him clearly after so many years. She could remember the way he’d spoken to her and how it had impacted her, but not most of what he’d actually said. She could remember him joking and laughing with her, but not the way it sounded. She could remember the way he’d smiled and offered his hand before lifting her up into the air, but the scene was fuzzy.

“Sorry,” Red Hood grumbled, rubbing the jawline of his helmet. “I guess you’re more of a Gothamite than we thought.”

“Huh?” She squinted at him, confused. “No, I’m not. What do you mean?”

“Well...” He leaned back, spreading out slightly. “People these days tend to be pretty protective of their Robins. Even when this one first started out and was swinging his sword everywhere—”

“This one’s got a sword?” she blurted out, shocked. 

“Yeah, a katana. He hacked up a couple of goons pretty good with it, too. Which I thought was great,” he said gesturing to himself, “but B didn’t.”

“B? As in… Batman?” she whispered.

He snorted at her. “He’s not the boogeyman, Ede. He’s not gonna jump out of your closet if you say his name too loud." Despite saying this, he was clearly doing a quick survey of her apartment.

“Wow. I feel so reassured,” she droned. “Anyway, no, I should be the one apologizing. You clearly know this Robin well, so if you think he’s a—” her mouth twitched slightly “—a brat then... you… probably have your reasons for it. I suppose. And I should... respect that,” she half-snarled.

Red Hood clapped slowly. “Wow. What a beautiful performance, Edie. How’s it feel to be such a great actor?”

“Oh—” she reached over the table and shoved him “—shut it, you!”

He just laughed her off.

“You better start being nice to me, Hood," she said standing and moving toward the fridge.

“Or what?” he asked confidently.

She grinned at him. “Or you’re not getting any Mad Mountain Fudge,” she teased right back.

---

Feedback always loved and appreciated! 🥰💕🥰

Next chapter

[foursideharmony]

The Cat, the Prince, and the Doorway to Imagination (Chapter 3)

Summary: Roman meets the White Witch.

Pairings: Platonic/familial LAMP/CALM, Platonic/familial DLAMPR

Content Warnings: Mentions of fairly graphic violence

Word Count: 2811

Read on AO3: here

The snow came down thick and fast, covering Roman's tracks in a matter of minutes. The temperature was dropping fast now that the sun was down, and he had left his fur coat behind at the Beavers' in his haste to get away (to get this over with), but the cold wasn't bothering him too badly at least—his boots were good, and he had two layers on underneath his regally tailored jacket. (Just because the story was forcing him into Edmund's role didn't mean he had to suffer like Edmund; he liked to think he was made of sterner stuff than a bratty schoolboy who sold his soul for pistachio candy.) Even so it was rough going, especially at first, with the snow flurry blocking nearly all the remaining light. Roman wasn't certain at all that he was maintaining his heading, but there was nothing to do except press on and hope that if nothing else, the story would lead him to his destination, since it was hell-bent on making him go there in the first place.

By and by, the storm began to break up. The snowfall dwindled to a stop and the moon coasted in and out of fragmented clouds, close to full and startlingly bright when it was out, lighting up the snowscape like...like really good stage lighting. Even intermittently, it was enough for Roman to pick out those two northerly hills and keep heading toward them, though he frequently had to detour around gullies and large clumps of trees. Sooner than he expected, the prince found himself staring up at the castle of the White Witch.

It was bigger than he had anticipated. He had designed it, of course, based on the brief description and single illustration in the book, but at Roman's level of experience, “designing” things in the Imagination often involved sending out a few vague parameters and letting the environment hammer down the details. The castle was a mass of thin towers and jagged battlements, more like an accretion than a construction, and under the moonlight it was impossible to tell whether it was made of stone or ice or both or maybe even some weird blend of the two.

Roman swallowed, preparing himself to go in. To go in, and pretend to expect the Witch to make good on her bad-faith promises...

Wait a minute.

Wait a minute.

What promises?

Roman had never met the White Witch.

He had started the story several chapters in, after those events would have happened. Which meant that technically...they hadn't happened. He'd never eaten her stupid fake food; he was here because the story needed him to be, not because he was compelled by her sinister enchantment. There was literally no reason for him to go into the castle wheedling and begging. But that left him somewhat at loose ends regarding his approach.

All at once, Roman came to a decision. “If this story wants me to be the villain,” he said aloud, because some things ought to be said aloud, “then I'll show it the kind of villain I can be!”

He stood up straighter, checked to make sure his sword was accessible, and marched toward the frigid castle.

He wondered if the others had noticed his absence yet, but decided it didn't really matter. Not with what he was about to do.

(Like a creek in a flash flood, the story leapt from its channel, lashing across the landscape of imagination until it found the new course.)

Getting inside was no problem as the portcullis hung open, the dozens of icicles festooning the iron making it resemble nothing so much as a yawning maw filled with needle-sharp fangs. It was colder within the walls than without, and Roman ducked into his collar as he crossed the courtyard, noting with grim curiosity the “lifelike” stone statues that dotted it every which way—the fate of any Narnian who openly defied the Witch. Directly across from the outer gate was the inner one, and across the threshold lay a massive timber wolf, easily mistaken for a statue itself if one didn’t happen to notice its slow breathing and the wisps of fog at its muzzle. Roman walked up within a few yards of it, and drew his sword.

As he had planned, the metallic rasp roused the wolf, which leapt to its feet with flicker-quick reflexes and made as if to charge Roman, snarling, only to pull up when it saw the steel blade in his hands.

“You make very bold to come here armed, stranger,” said the wolf.

“I am well practiced at boldness,” Roman said. “Am I to understand that I have the dubious pleasure of addressing Maugrim, captain of Her Majesty’s secret police?”

“You understand well enough,” Maugrim replied with a mirthless chuckle. “Unless you wish to curse that name with your dying breath, you will give your name, and your purpose in coming to my queen’s castle at this late hour.”

“You may tell your queen,” Roman said, raising his sword in a defensive stance, “that Prince Roman is here to propose an alliance with her. Any more than that is for her ears, not yours.”

“Do not try my patience, prince or no,” Maugrim said, beginning to pace back and forth as though looking for an opening. “I alone decide who may see the Queen.”

He made a lunge, half in earnest and half testing, and skidded to a halt when Roman whipped his sword around and pointed the tip at the wolf’s throat. “Do not try me…captain,” he said. “Just you go and fetch your mistress, there’s a good boy.”

Maugrim growled deeply, and Roman knew he had made an enemy. But he turned away and said “Follow me,” with a curt snap of his teeth. Roman did, at a safe distance, as the wolf led him through a short ice-walled corridor. They stopped at an archway. “Wait here,” said Maugrim, “and put away your sword. Move from this spot before I get back and I’ll hunt you down and tear your throat out.” As he passed through the archway—Roman could just glimpse a large space beyond it, though the light was too poor for him to make out any details—the prince couldn’t help but be impressed by how menacing Maugrim was. Had he done that, or was it all down to Lewis's writing? The Narnia series could be dark but they were still kids' books, but this baddie wouldn't be out of place in a PG-13 Hollywood blockbuster.

There was muffled conversation from the chamber beyond, and then Maugrim returned. “I can't imagine why, but Her Majesty deigns to receive you. You will not speak until she bids you, and you will address her with the utmost courtesy. You will bow as you enter her presence. Offend my queen, and I will take great pleasure in devouring you down to your bones.”

A dozen retorts jostled for dominance on Roman's tongue, but he bit them all back. He stepped through the archway, bending into a stiff, proper bow with one hand pressed to his chest and the other held at his side. He kept his eyes on the icy floor, and so it was mostly shadow and sound that told him Maugrim was circling him. For the first time since entering the castle, Roman felt truly vulnerable.

“Here he is, my queen. Prince Roman...as he calls himself,” said the wolf. “Your Highness, you stand in the presence of Her Imperial Majesty, Queen Jadis of Narnia.”

“Your skepticism is misplaced, Maugrim,” said a voice like wind chimes carved from the heart of a glacier. “Whatever else he is, he is certainly a prince. You may rise, Prince Roman.”

Roman unbent, taking in his new surroundings. The room was more of a cavern hollowed out of the ice, lit by some bluish luminescence whose source he could not find, its walls covered with swirling, lumpy forms where water had melted and flowed and re-frozen repeatedly over time. At the far side was a high dais upon which sat a magnificent throne, made, like the room, entirely out of ice, though it seemed more deliberately sculpted. Roman lifted his eyes to the throne's occupant, and for the first time saw the White Witch.

She was gorgeous.

Not suddenly-questioning-his-sexuality gorgeous (not least because there was nothing remotely sexual about her; she was chilliness personified), but...she looked like Snow White might look if she grew up and inherited her stepmother's personality. Flawless features, porcelain complexion, lustrous black hair falling in slight waves around her shoulders, crimson lips. Her crown, surprisingly enough, was made of gold and fairly simple in style, just harsh elongated points rising from the rim. Her scepter was gold also and very slender; Roman remembered that it was actually her magic wand. Her royal regalia and her lips made the only spots of warm color in that frigid hall, and Roman realized to his chagrin that her presentation mirrored his own colors: his white suit with its gold braid and bold red sash.

In any case, though she was a tyrant and a usurper, she was every inch a queen. Roman bowed again, in a more sweeping fashion.

“Our captain tells us,” said the Witch, “that you have come here seeking an alliance with us. The only question is what you think you could possibly have to offer. If you have been in Narnia for any length of time, you will have seen that our conquest is quite complete. Why should we accede to your proposal?”

Roman chose his words carefully. “Mighty though Your Majesty undoubtedly is, you cannot be everywhere at once. I am in possession of...information, concerning the plans and movements of Your Majesty's enemies.”

The Witch made a scoffing noise, not quite a laugh. “My enemies,” she said pointedly, “are arranged in the courtyard. You passed them on your way in.”

“With all due respect, Majesty, those are only the enemies you know about. Your subjects have learned to be secretive about their rebellion...and there are quite recent developments which could change everything.”

“What developments?” snapped the Witch. Behind Roman, Maugrim picked up his pacing back and forth.

For the first time, Roman actually met her gaze. “I am one of four.” The White Witch's free hand, the one not holding her wand, tightened almost imperceptibly on the arm of her throne. Roman forged ahead. “Significant events have been set in motion, Your Majesty. Without intercession, they may mean your doom. I can help you achieve that intercession. In fact, with the two of us, working together, even Aslan himself cannot—”

“How DARE you speak that name in my presence!” the Witch said, suddenly mere inches from Roman. Without at any point seeming to move quickly, she had descended the dais and crossed the space between them in an instant. Through his terror—she loomed over him by nearly a foot, and Maugrim was right behind him, there was no escape—Roman felt a little thrill of triumph, because he hadn't expected this. His creations could surprise him, and not just in little ways like the details of their appearance!

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” he gasped out. “I did not know the mere sound of that name would upset you so. But was it not worth it, for the knowledge that you might yet be rid of him forever? With my help, it can be so. My power combined with yours...”

“Impossible,” Jadis spat. “Do you not know what he is, that one?”

“I know what is said about him,” Roman replied evenly. “But perhaps it is not entirely true?”

A long moment passed. The White Witch took a step back, her lips parting in a slight inhalation. “So,” she said. “That is how it is. And you choose to ally with me? Should I feel flattered?”

“You flatter me,” Roman said, making another gallant bow.

“Very well then, let us be of an accord. If what you say is true, then we likely have no time to lose.”

“Indeed,” said Roman. “He may land on Narnia's shore within hours. Tell me, Your Majesty—which feature in this room is your least favorite?”

The Witch glanced around, then gestured languidly at a glob of ice not significantly different from any other. “The asymmetry of that one has always vexed me somewhat.”

Roman strode over to it, drawing his sword, and with a swift motion, sliced off the offending lump. It bounced on the floor with a dull clunk, and he applied his sword to it again, several more times, until he had produced something like a multifaceted gem the size of a large marble. The sheer cold of it bit into his fingertips as he picked it up, and it didn't sparkle properly like a cut gem should. The facets, though mirror-smooth, were as dull as iron.

That would change.

“Have your servants make ready Your Majesty's sleigh,” said Roman, pocketing the ice jewel. “I shall explain everything on the way.”

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

Somewhat earlier...

“I just don't get it,” Virgil said for the fifth or sixth time, pacing yet another circuit of the Beavers' small one-room lodge.

“So you have said several times before,” said Logan, still sitting awkwardly at the beaver-sized dining table, pinching the bridge of his nose, “and I have explained the situation as I see it each time. I will do so again if you wish, but I question the purpose if my answers are not helping you to understand.”

“Humor me, okay?” said Virgil. “Your droning voice helps me relax for some reason.”

“Very well. While I am not especially familiar with the plot of C.S. Lewis's book, I do seem to recall that one of the four children temporarily departs from the group and falls under the sway of the villainous witch, to be redeemed later. As Roman is the only one of us who does remember the story in detail, it fell to him to play out that role. The rest of us can take our cues from helpful characters such as the Beavers—” Here Logan nodded to their hosts. “—and play out our roles to the necessary degree of accuracy that way. In short, I believe this is all simply part of Roman's plan, and we should not be unduly alarmed.”

“I don't know,” said Patton, wringing a napkin in his hands. “It's so unlike Roman to play anything other than the virtuous hero. And that's what he said he was going to do. I can't help but think something is, well, wrong.”

“Right or wrong,” Mr. Beaver cut in, “we'd best be well away from here before too long.” Mrs. Beaver was already bustling about, packing some supplies for a journey. “We've been compromised. We'll go by back ways and hidden paths, and get to the Stone Table right under the Witch's nose. But we've got to be quick—her enforcers can make the run from her castle in half an hour.”

“That fast?” Virgil said, the Tempest Tongue instantly taking over his voice. He stopped pacing and started helping Mrs. Beaver shove items into her rucksacks. “Let's go let's go let's go!”

“Easy, dear, not so rough!” she said helplessly.

“Virgil,” said Logan, “there is little or nothing to be gained by suffering a panic attack. Let me remind you that we already determined, based on the flow of conversation, that Roman was here as of fifty-one minutes ago. Even assuming he left immediately afterward, and positing that informing the Witch of our whereabouts was instantaneous, that would leave a mere twenty-one minutes for him to travel to her castle, in order for her enforcers' arrival to be imminent. Given that they themselves take approximately thirty minutes to make the same journey, and this is implied to be a relatively short amount of time—”

“English, Teach,” Virgil said, although his voice was back to normal.

“Roman almost certainly has not been gone long enough for any representatives of the White Witch to get here for at least another—excuse me for the imprecision—several minutes. If we make sensible haste, then we can set out with plenty of time to get a lead on them.”

“We'll need our coats,” Patton murmured, getting up to fetch them from the hooks beside the door. “Oh...Roman left his. The poor guy must be freezing his behind off out there!”

“Serve him right if he is,” Virgil opined.

“We should bring it,” Patton continued. “For when we meet up with him again.”

“No, leave it here. It'll be dead weight,” said Mr. Beaver.

And on that ominous note, the little party trooped out into the frozen night.

[addictofsupernatural]

Spidey Senses (pt. 2)

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: You have a talk with Happy and Tony, and Tony tries to fill in the blanks of your life.

Warning: Angsty memories

Word Count: 2879

Chapter 1 • Chapter 3

"Holy shit!" You said, surprising Tony over the language. "You're the Spiderman?"

"You're the Spidergirl?!"

You turned to Tony, who was watching this from outside the car. "You! Why didn't you give me a heads up?"

He only shrugged. "You didn't ask."

"You could've put two and two together!" He only smirked and closed the door. You turned to Peter. "Stark museum?"

"Yeah. You too?"

"Yeah." You buried your head in your hands. This was a lot to processs...holy crap, this just made him more amazing. Peter really does deserve the world.

"You okay?"

You brought up your head and nodded, gently smiling. "We have a lot to talk about."

Tony got in the front seat next to Happy, who was waiting in the car as well. Tony put up the divider so you two wouldn't hear the conversation. "I like her. She's got spunk, but is also a lot more mature than she acts."

Happy glanced at the drawing. "What's that?"

"A drawing from my number one fan." He put it on the dashboard and leaned back in his seat. "She's got a crush on him."

"The kid? Why?" Happy furrowed his eyebrows.

"Beats me, but he doesn't feel the same way. How does that makes sense? It's like when Cap turns down a woman for the hundredth time. Not this is the same situation, but still. Why is the history of blind men repeating itself?" He rested his fist over his mouth. "I'm trying to wrap my head around it."

Happy thought about it. "Let me see a picture of them." He showed him the picture of you two together. "Oh wow. She's adorable. What's wrong with him?"

"Who knows." He paused. "Pull over. I'm gonna find out." Happy pulled over and Tony opened your door. "Your sitting in the front for now. I wanna have a heart to heart with the kid."

You got up and looked at Tony in the eye. "Please don't embarrass me." He saluted as you sat in the front seat. "Hi. You must be Happy."

You smiled and stuck out your hand. He hesitated for a second before shaking it. It wasn't really a professional firm shake, but he appritiated your attempts to be polite. "You're y/n."

He started driving again, and you nodded. "Yup. Did Mr. Stark tell you anything about me?"

"W–uh, not really, no." You gave him a look and huffed, giving him an expectant look and unconsciously pouty face. "Okay, he told me you have a crush on the Peter kid."

"Ugh, of course he did. Is he always really nosy? I've literally never met someone as curious as him."

Happy chuckled. "Oh yeah. Why, how bad was it?"

"He intarrogates me about the pictures I have on my walls, goes through my kitchen drawers, looks at my bills, then walks into my room to make fun of me for my drawings."

You both laughed. "So you drew that picture?"

You looked at the drawing on the dash board. "Yeah. I guess you can say I'm kind of Mr. Stark's number one fan."

Happy let out a chuckle. "You don't act like it."

"That's because I can realize that he's a regular person with his own emotional issues going on, and that he's a good guy because he chose to be for the sake of others. Not for the fame, like the guy from Hammer tech. Ugh, their products suck. But yeah, he seems like a pretty good dude, even if he suffers from RPR."

"What's RPR?"

"Rich People Rudeness." You both laughed, and Happy thought for a moment.

"Wait, what do you mean when he looked through your bills?"

"Oh, I assumed that Mr. Stark told you." He shook his head. "I've been emancipated for about 8 months now."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to–"

"It's fine." You said lightheartedly. "It's not like it's common where you work or probably live." There was an awkward silence where you knew Happy regretted prying, so you picked up the conversation. "So, I saw that you're trained in boxing."

He smiled while keeping his eyes on the road. "Yeah. Do you know how to fight?"

"Um, I guess I did learn to fight as a kid, but it's considered dirty fighting."

"Hey, don't worry about it. Tony's always using dirty boxing when we go for a round."

You smiled and looked out the window. "Course he does. I wish I knew boxing."

"Well, maybe if there's time with all of this over, I could teach you."

"Aww, you'd do that for me?" You gave him a wide grin, and poked him. "Am I growing on you already?"

"You're not too bad, calm down."

Meanwhile, in the back of the car, Peter was nervous about the idea of Tony wanting a 'heart to heart'. "So," Tony said. "I want to get to know you. Tell me about this girl you like."

"Really?"

Tony took out the container that he put under the seat when he went to get you clothes. He opened it and took out a cookie, taking a bite. "Yeah, talk to me."

"Uh, are those y/n's cookies?"

"Yeah, how can you tell?"

"Those look like the double chocolate cookies that she makes." He unconsciously licked his lips; those were his favorite of yours.

"Do me a favor and don't tell her. I'll buy her some new cookies and give back the container. These are just really addicting."

"Yeah, they really are." Peter laughed out. "Well, the girl like's name is Liz."

"Is that short for anything?"

"No, it's just Liz. Anyways, she's really smart. Like, learning is actually important to her and she tries really hard in everything. My friends and I joined Mathletes for her."

"Your friends being..."

"Y/n and our friend Ned. She's really nice to everyone too. Like, no matter what. Not a lot of people in Queens are like that." Peter smiled and blushed.

"Yeah? You guys talk a lot?"

"Well, no. I get really nervous and choked up. I do get some words out, but I need to work on my confidence around her."

Tony shifted in his place to face more to Peter. "Let me ask you something, and think about it. What does she do when you choke up?"

Peter didn't see how this was an important question. "She usually just stares at me, confused. Her friends would drag her away or this guy named Flash will make fun of me and my friends and I walk away. That's usually how the conversation ends."

Tony had all the information he needed. If Peter was always stumbling over his words and this Liz girl didn't do anything about it, then she wasn't really confused. She was playing dumb, either to not embarrass him or because she wasn't interested. What he did know was that he could use this to his advantage. "Now I want you to compare that to the other women in your life."

"Oh, I don't really have other women in my life. I'm not that kind of person." Peter chuckled at Tony.

"I can see. Who are the women in your life then?"

He shrugged. "Just Aunt May and y/n really."

Tony repressed his smile. This was right where he wanted Peter. For being such a genius with science and technology, Peter was an idiot with people's feelings. "Okay then, let's think of a scenario with y/n."

"Why are–"

"Don't question me when I'm asking you something." He said sternly.

"Sorry." Peter mumbled.

"I want you to think of a scenario where you're trying to talk to y/n, but you can't. You're choked up and it's bothering you that you can't speak clearly to tell her something really important to you. What would she do?"

"Well, she'd probably tell me to stop talking, and have me take a deep breath. I could see her grabbing my hand and telling me that whatever it is I want to say is just as important to her if it is to me, and that I should know that I could always tell her anything. She'd probably make me go for a walk and swing our hands to sooth me while we wouldn't say anything. Then when I'm calm enough I'd tell her."

Tony learned two things from this. One, Peter was an oblivious dumbass who still had this likability to him somehow. And two, you had some game. Your flirting was strong even in a damn fake scenario, and you sounded smooth as hell. Tony needed to think about this. He needed to figure out what to say in order to nudge Peter onto you without saying Just kiss her, trust me.

"Y'know, one thing that I like about me and Pepper's relationship is that we can talk about anything for hours. She makes me comfortable and talking to her feels natural and at home. Make sure you feel your best around the girl you like."

Peter thought about this, and Tony dusted the cookie crumbs off his hands. "Okay that's enough advice I'm able to give." He said.

He knocked on the divider, which Happy put down. You did a double take, quickly turning around to look at the container in Tony's lap. "Are those my cookies?!"

He looked like he was trying to think of an excuse, but couldn't find one. "Yes."

You huffed and shook your head, looking back at Happy. "See what I mean?"

He sighed. "Oh Tony."

"Anyways, switch with the kid. I want to talk to you."

You got out of the car and made your way to Peter's door, where he just got out. "How'd it go?" You asked.

"Uh, he told me some stuff that was pretty interesting. But it was good advice. He obviously likes you more than me."

"I don't think it's possible for anyone to like someone else over you." You both smiled as you entwined your fingers together. "I bet he already loves you as much as I do."

He twirled you around, making you giggle. "Thanks y/n. I love it that I have a friend as amazing as you."

"Course." Happy and Tony both looked at each other to acknowledge the depressing friendzone blow you just took. As you slid inside the car you took the container from Tony, handing it to Happy. "Here you go. You two can have the rest."

Happy joyfully took the tupperware. "Happy, put the divider back up." Tony said. Once it was up, he turned to you and overly smiled. "He's cute, isn't he?"

"You don't have to make fun of me." You pouted.

He laughed. "I can see that he's a good kid, and socially awkward. You two were really friendly with each other."

"Not really. We grew up with each other, so it's just natural."

"I want to know what made you like him the way you do." He leaned his head on the seat as he gently smiled.

You looked down and shrugged, smiling. "He just has this light about him. No matter how sad life can get for me, he always makes me smile. He was there for me at my lowest. He knew about my mom, everyone in school did, but he was the only one who wanted to talk to me. Everybody else saw me as dangerous. Ned was reluctant, since he's always been overly cautious, but he warmed up to me. He was even there when I went to court to get myself emancipated."

"Tell me a story of him and you. When was a time where the two of you used your brains together?"

Your smile grew. "There was this time when Peter and I built a TV for me. I found as much as I could from scavenging around the home we lived in, and he had his parents buy the rest. It was our project together. It was an excuse to get away from my mom, and I was so proud of myself when we finished and it actually turned on. It made me love projects from then on. Projects are a reason to be around Peter, and a distraction from everything else."

Tony loved this. This was better than any Hallmark movie. Better than any romance story he's seen. "When did you first get a crush on the kid?"

Your smile left you. "That's kind of a long story." You looked down again, this time in shame. "My uh, my mom had a lot of friends over all the time. They did a lot of stuff, and put a lot of stuff in themselves. I didn't know what it was back then, but I knew it wasn't good. I stepped on a needle that was left on the floor, and whatever they had just took was in me too. I had a seizure, and whoever was still in their right mind called an ambulance. I was in there for three days, still trying to gain back all the feelings in my body. Peter visited me everyday, and fed me when my hand was too shaky for me to eat by myself."

He saw your watery eyes, and felt guilty for bringing it up. "Kid, I'm sorry for asking."

You shook your head and wiped your eyes. "It's fine. Peter told his parents that my mom was really sick, so let me stay there for a few days. We were only six, so we slept in the same bed. I think that's when I first got my crush on him. When he hugged me after getting woken up by my nightmares."

He smiled at you, but was filled to the brim with sadness. He didn't know what to do, what to say. He just wanted you to feel better. Damn, why did that amazing idiot like someone else? Without thinking, Tony pulled you in for a hug. You hesitated, but hugged him back. You didn't remember the last time you were hugged like this, but it felt really good.

At the same time, Peter was failing miserably at talking to Happy. He tried to ask him about his name, but got nowhere. They both opted for silently eating your cookies together. He did see one of your drawings on the dashboard, and picked it up to examine it. He put it back down, smiling and looking out the window. He was proud of you for giving it to Tony.

The car then stopped. You and Tony didn't say anything when pulling back, but you gave him a smile that he easily returned. As everybody got out of the car, Tony had Happy take out your luggages with new clothes and toiletries. He was going to have Happy bring them up, but you both protested and got it yourselves.

He explained the mission situation, and weak points in some of the people's fighting abilities. He then told you two to find your hotel rooms while he talked to Happy. He had a lot to gossip with Happy about you. He usually wouldn't be doing this with anybody, but he trusted to task Happy with looking after you in the future.

You both went in the hotel and gave your names to the front desk lady. Miraculously, she gave you two room keys without question. You excitedly went up to the 5th floor, and went to your connected rooms. You both went to Peter's side first, then yours.

"Yup, your side is a lot better." Peter said as he put his small luggage bag down at a corner of your room.

"What're you doing?" You asked.

"Don't you get nightmares when your in a new area alone? I'm gonna sleep with you."

You lightly smiled at the innocent but so meaningful statement. He really did care. "You remembered. Okay, let's get ready for bed then."

You both brushed your teeth together, and you changed in the bathroom while he took the bedroom. You were pretty nervous to leave the bathroom, with these small pj shorts on. The only times you've shown your legs are in PE, and even those shorts were pretty long. When you did step out of the bathroom, you saw that Peter was shirtless and had a frown. "Mr. Stark didn't pack any pajama shirts for me."

You shrugged, trying to not melt on the spot at the fact that his powers gave him super hot abs. "Maybe he figured you sleep shirtless."

"I guess." You both went under the sheets, and he cutely turned to face you with an adorable smile. "What did you and Mr. Stark talk about?"

"He wanted to know about my past."

"Oh." His smile was wiped clean off, and a worried expression replaced it. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I really am." You then wrapped your arms around his waist and snuggled into his chest. "It just made me remember how lucky I am to have such an amazing person like you in my life."

He smiled and hugged you back. "I'm lucky too."

You then quickly dozed off in his arms, and he'd be damned if he accidentally woke your nice slumber, so he didn't move you. He thought about Tony's word of advice. He needed to learn how to talk to Liz like a regular person, and become closer. He can always speak to you normally. Maybe you could help him with that. That must've been what Tony meant. Yeah.

---

Author Note: Someone asked to be tagged but then deleted the comment, so to whoever that was, sorry I didn't tag you.

---

Tag List:

@flawlessapollo6 @them-cute-boys @lunawndrlnd @the-greatt-perhaps

[namjoonspiration]

ON [2]

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You wake up in a new place surrounded by Mages; however, you feel the weight of Jungkook’s absence. In the meantime, you meet some new friends.

Warnings/tags: heartbreak, mentions of violence

Author’s note: Here is Part 2! I know it’s kinda short and I apologize for that, but Chapter 3 is pretty lengthy and I’ll be posting that in a couple days to make up for it :) Enjoy!

Masterlist

Part 2

Year 3049 – 388 years after the Fall of the World

A pungent, salty smell brings you to your senses. Your hands fall flush against rough cotton as you bolt up from your laying position. The hand that was holding the white rock jerks away. You survey the room frantically. A purple-haired young man is holding the salts. And that golden-eyed Mage who you saw at the Citadel was sitting across the room.

The Citadel!

Jungkook! Your screams of desperation ring inside your head.

You look that Mage dead in the eyes and feel your rage drag you to your feet to launch yourself at him. “You! You fucking prick! You left him behind!” You pound against his chest repeatedly and get a few hard slaps against his face.

“Get her to calm down!” He snaps at Purple Hair. You don’t even spare him a glance. You keep getting as many hits as you can on this stupid man.

“You left my Jungkook behind!” Soft, oiled hands wrap around the back of your neck. “You—you could have saved him…” Your muscles become like jelly, losing all their strength.  You feel your magic go to sleep. Purple Hair is quick to grab you under your arms and set you back to sitting on the bed. You look at his hands, and the bottle on the table. What is that stuff?

“No, we couldn’t. Trust me, if I had the chance, I would have done it. We went into that raid with the aim of getting every single one of you out. If I had gone back for him, our bodies, along with his and the other Mage kids, would be rotting inside that Citadel at this very moment.” The Mage explained.

“He’s probably already dead.” You protest, your anger melting into sorrow.

“They won’t kill him. They’ll hurt him, but they won’t kill him.”

“Why?” You ask in utter disbelief. “And why are we still here and not out there trying to rescue him?”

“Because your boyfriend had proven with his fight at the end, he’s worth more to them alive then rotting in the ground. Besides that Citadel is now locked tighter than a snake around its prey. There’s no telling when that place will let people in again. I doubt they’ll let their own people out to go on the trade roads again for months.”

“Trade roads?”

“Between the civilizations that are left.” His words surprise you. There are more people out there? The Governing Circle always said growing up that the Citadel was the last surviving place for humans left on Earth.

For humans. But Mages…

“That’s how we knew you guys were in there. I was on those roads when a trader from the Citadel was selling oranges, and for top dollar too. I knew it had to be magic that made those. Oranges haven’t grown in any land since the Old World, and I didn’t think the Mages that were making these were doing so voluntarily. The Citadel has a reputation in the outside world for cruelty and oppression of Mages that enter its walls.”

The story was slowly knitting itself together inside your head. You can’t believe it. Your magic gave them a smoke signal—a cry for help. You were the reason that so many Mages were freed from the Citadel. But it didn’t lift your spirits.

The most important person in your life was still in there.

Wait. “What about my mother? My family? The village?” You rush out. “In the Southeast corner, we all lived in a village with our family and neighbors. Did they get out too?” Your heart beats faster in anticipation.

The Mage raises his eyebrows, “Village?” He thinks about it for several long moments, and then he stiffens, jaw clenching. Finally, at last, he says, “No.”

Your spirit drops even further. “So, they’re still in there too?”

“No. There are no Mages left in the Citadel besides your boyfriend. They were all killed when they took you and all the other children several years ago.”

“What?” Tears prickle at your eyes. “How—how do you know that?”

“We heard about it on the roads, and we investigated it. I even saw their bodies being carted out of the Citadel myself before they buried them in a mass grave about a week’s travel away from the city.” The weight of the loss sits heavy on your chest, making it hard to breath. “The Governing Circle only saw your village as a population problem, and when they had finally picked out what they wanted, they destroyed it. They never planned to free you from your prison or for you to ever see your families again. You would have served, worked, bared children, and died within those walls, with your children and your children’s children to live the same fate.”

“Sir,” Purple Hair speaks out of the blue. “She’s not well, and I don’t think this conversation at the moment is going to help her recover.” His voice is so gentle compared to the gruff of the giant man sitting across from you.

He huffs, “Fine. Please send word when she’s recovered then.” And he leaves without another word.

Purple Hair fiddles with bottles and jars, the clinking and clanking poking at the silence in the room. Then he’s laying a tray of food next to you and gestures towards it. “Please eat as much as you want. I can get more if you don’t feel it’s enough.” You don’t say anything. “My name is Namjoon. I’m the doctor here. I’m human, but I’m not here to hurt you obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t be a doctor,” he laughs nervously. You don’t say anything still. He clears his throat awkwardly. “Sorry. My comedic skills aren’t that great, but I’m a good listener when you want to talk. I’m not just a doctor that takes care of physical wounds. Everyone has emotional wounds, and right now I know you have many. We don’t have to deal with them all today, or even tomorrow, but I’m here to help you heal.” Namjoon pats your shoulder tenderly before getting up to give you some space.

You don’t move for hours, even for days for that matter. You nibble twice at the fresh food and water Namjoon gives you three times a day, but then you stare at nothing. Not thinking, not feeling, not sure what to do. Nothing happens inside Namjoon’s clinic the whole time you’re there for that first week until he gets two new patients.

They walk in. A boy and a blindfolded girl. The boy was much older than the girl, and she couldn’t have been any older than three. He appeared to be about your age with a tall, skinny but somewhat muscled build like how Jungkook was.

Is.

“Please come in. Make yourselves comfortable,” Namjoon gestures to the empty bed across from yours. They tentatively sit down. You’re sitting down yourself, nibbling on a piece of bread. They face you, the boy looking you directly in the eyes, like he’s waiting for you to do something. “Ah, I guess some introductions will help with the… tense atmosphere in this room. This is y/n. Y/n, this is Taehyung and his little sister.”

It really didn’t help with the tension at all.

“Okay, never mind,” Namjoon mutters. “I’ll just take her to the other room to treat her injuries and check for any broken bones and infections,” he lays a gentle hand on the little girl’s wrist to lead her. Taehyung is quick to grab Namjoon’s arm that’s holding his sister, warning flaring bright in his black eyes. “It’s alright. I’m not taking her from you. I’m going to help her,” Namjoon speaks with an open and honest tone. Trust.

Taehyung considers his words for a few long moments before letting go. The little girl hops down, and Namjoon places a hand on her back to guide her. Just before they are out of the room, Taehyung warns, “Don’t take her blindfold off. It must never come off.” His tone sent chills down her spine. Namjoon nodded wordlessly.Once they were gone, you and Taehyung returned to your staring contest. It was hard to get a complete read on him, but you could tell he’s been through hell.

“What’s with the blindfold?” You ask after several minutes of silence.

“None of your business.”

“Why does she need it?” You cast another line.

He doesn’t bite. Instead, he fires back with another question, “Where are you from?”

“The Citadel.” There was no point in being mysterious.

“Shit. No wonder you look like hell.”

“I could say the same thing about you. You want to tell me what that black scar on your shoulder is about?” You eye the part of his skin where his oversized long sleeve has fallen to exposure the portion where his neck meets his shoulder. He quickly tugs his shirt back into place, scowling at you. “Are you a Mage?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yes.”

“How did you get here?”

“I was rescued with several other Mages I grew up with. I’ve been here about a week. Although, one of us got left behind,” you mutter bitterly.

Taehyung doesn’t bother to prod further in your last comment. “My sister and I, we’re from a Mage colony from the West.”

The West. You knew what that mean.

That’s where the darkness travel from, swallowing civilizations whole, scorching the lands and poisoning the waters.

Taehyung and his sister must have escaped from it. And from the looks of it, it didn’t seem that they did so with much ease and that they were the only ones who made it out alive.

“Must have been pretty bad out there,” you say.

He nods slowly. “Yeah, it was. I can imagine the Citadel isn’t a picnic either.”

You shake your head. Silence befalls both of your again, but the tension in the room is definitely gone at this point. Now it’s just you and Taehyung, sitting in Namjoon’s clinic with bleeding internal wounds.

He was just like you in a way. Hurt in several ways, seemingly lost, not knowing how he ended up here. The first person you’ve seen in days that wasn’t so interested in how you were faring and when you might recover so they could interrogate about your life in the Citadel.

You hold your uneaten bread out to Taehyung in a gesture of respect and understanding. He searches your face and seems to know what you’re offering him beyond just a chunk of bread. Thankfully, he accepts the bread from you and begins to eat.

…

It takes another week for you to walk out of Namjoon’s clinic, feeling less numb than you had when you first arrived at the Mages’ camp. There were so many other Mages here. You almost couldn’t believe that so many have survived after hundreds of years when you thought at one point your village was the last one left. It was overwhelming at first trying to settle in. You struggled with sharing a hut with other girls your age, who were happy and moving about their normal days. You just didn’t fit in. You returned to Namjoon’s clinic in the middle of the night the first day out, and he offered the spare room in his clinic to stay in if it meant you’d get some sleep. You were truly grateful for his kindness. It also allowed him to keep an eye on you and to monitor your progress.

After your first meeting with Taehyung, Namjoon noticed an improvement in your interactions with your surrounding environment, so he thought it would be a good idea to have you two have some level of interaction every day.

At first, you and Taehyung were somewhat reluctant to listen to him, but after you both realized this would be a chance for you to share with each other about the hell you’ve both been through and to commiserate with each other.

So, you did for hours every day. You would tell Taehyung about life in the Citadel, and he would tell you about what it’s like running from a faceless darkness, that never gets tired, for his whole life he’s lived in the West. Before he and his sister got here, they’d been traveling for months non-stop. Their camp got too close to the darkness one night, and they were attacked by whatever unspeakable horrors were inside it. Their parents sacrificed themselves to save Taehyung and his sister and died a grisly death. However, in their process of escape, Taehyung was attacked by the darkness. It had entered his body, leaving him in constant pain. But he couldn’t stop running and fighting to get away because he had his sister to protect. Thankfully, they stumbled across some Mages from this settlement.

Namjoon didn’t even though what to do about the darkness in Taehyung, which had manifested itself in the form of a living scar on his shoulder. Namjoon didn’t want to try to cut it out from him for fears that he might upset the living darkness and put Taehyung in more pain. It hadn’t mattered to Taehyung anyway. He could barely feel its presence there anymore.

One evening, he finally tells you about his sister.

“She’s a Seer.” Your mother had mentioned them in the bedtime stories she told you. You thought Seers only existed in Mage Folklore. It made sense why Taehyung insisted the blindfold be kept on. Seers constantly see visions of the past, present and future, so to see all that along with the world in front of her, she wouldn’t be able function properly. The overload of information could even kill her, and she might lose her Sight. “Besides, if she keeps that blindfold on, she doesn’t have to see how far this world’s fallen into shit. I can keep her from witnessing firsthand the pain and hell of this world if that blindfold stays on. I won’t ever let her take it off until we’re in a better, happier place.”

You didn’t have your first interaction with his sister until she was almost six years old. You had traveled with her and Taehyung out to a nearby wooded area—a very rare sight—to collect herbs Namjoon needed to make medicines. You’d been examining a cluster of leaves and flowers near a pond when you see them.

Lilies.

Jungkook’s face fills your thoughts. All his sweet words and caring heart. The love you gave each other the few months you had together after you first kissed.

It broke your heart to think about it. Three years… It has been nearly three years since you’ve arrived at the Mages camp. You’d asked that silver-haired warrior every time you saw him when the Citadel would open and when you can rescue Jungkook. His answer: I don’t know. Maybe soon.

As if she heard your distressed thoughts, Tae’s sister placed her small hand on yours. “Let go of your heartache, y/n. He’s where he needs to be right now.” Her voice sounded nothing like a six-year-old’s. She sounded ancient, like she’s been alive for thousands of years. You knew she was telling you the truth, and you can’t lie, it was hard to swallow. But you wouldn’t just sit idly by, waiting for that warrior oaf to bring you news of the Citadel.

No.

Instead, you took action. You learned from the experienced Mages in the camp how to do offensive and defensive magic. No longer would you just know how to make plants grow. Now you would learn how to fight back.

You convinced the merchants to let you join them on their travels through the trade roads after persuading Namjoon for some medicines to trade for promise of bringing back rare items he needed. It took more time than you would have liked, but one day you finally heard news on the Citadel.

They’ve strengthened their numbers again since the attack, and apparently, they’re bragging about some secret weapon they have. You know what I say? What a load of bullshit. I’ve heard from some traders who have direct contact with the Governing Circle that their weapon is nothing more than a Mage boy with some spitfire in his soul. Weapon? Pish. What can a single Mage do against other angry Mages, much less against the darkness that continues to blacken the soil.

Jungkook. He was still alive. That brought you hope that there might still be one day you’d see him again.

But that’s not all I’ve heard. There’s a war on the horizon, and whoever is left on this Godforsaken Earth needs to be prepared.

[duhragonball]

Luffa Story Arc Breakdown

“Ah shit, he’s talking about his OC again!   I told you not to wear that shirt!”

“Hey, sun’s out, guns out, my dude.”

I should have #159 up shortly, and this weekend I gotta get 160 figured out.   July is my next writing month, and I’ll be trying to add 30000 more words to this damn story.   But I still have to figure out what to do with the loose bits that I haven’t posted from the previous writing months.   It’s the same rigamorale I dealt with in 2019 and 2020, but on a much smaller scale.    So I gotta nip that in the bud before it gets worse.

Every year, I think I’m going to do proper chapter summaries on AO3, and I never go through with it because it’s just a big hassle.   By “hassle”, I mean I have to re-read the entire fic and catch all the spelling errors and plot holes that I missed the last time around.  

Honestly, reading my own work is kind of fun sometimes, provided enough time has passed that I can get some distance from it.   Someone will like an old post of mine, and I’ll check it out to remember what it was, and Tumblr Mobile will recommend other posts of mine, including my own fic, and I’ll check it out and go “Hey, this guy’s pretty good.”  

I need to tell myself that more often, because these recent chapters I’ve been posting just feel like noise.   I’ll read ‘em and they look right and I see nothing else that needs to be changed, but I just can’t stand looking at them, and I know that’s just Editing Fatigue because I had a blast writing all this Frieza stuff.   Back in January, I found a YouTube video that was just a supercut of the Frieza fight before Goku showed up, and I’d put that on and work out how to cram a time traveler into it.   Then I found another supercut of Frieza vs. Base Goku and did the same thing in April.      That may be what makes it so boring for me to read.   It’s not just that I wrote it, but I adapted scenes from another work that I already saw, and recently.   Hell, a few weeks ago I re- watched the Frieza Saga again, because I was hunting for Track M814 uses.   So it feels dull even though I know it’s hot stuff, so maybe I should re-read my older material for an ego boost. 

But I’m not gonna do that right now, because I’ve got a lot to do today.   Instead I’ll be trying to sort the chapters into “arcs”.   I’m hoping this will get me a step closer to whatever it is that I need to do.

Luffa #1-10: The origin story, to keep it simple.  I did a prologue in #1 to introduce the character, and I think I gave her a gold breastplate, like a Roman Soldier would wear, because I had this goofy idea about constantly switching her outfits that didn’t last.   Then we flash back to Luffa’s time on Dorlu Prime, her failed defense of that world from an invasion force, and her unlikely escape from captivity.   Also, the title character turns into the titular Super Saiyan, thereby fufilling the titular legend.

Luffa #11-16: Bigreen Arc.  Luffa can’t control her new form, so she ends up on a planet that specializes in medical science to figure out what’s wrong with her.   This one is designed to explain some of the disconnects in Saiyan lore.   Luffa’s not the first Super Saiyan, but she’s not even sort of familiar with the transformation, even though she’s heard tales of all the old heroes.   So this arc tries to fill in that gap. 

Luffa #17-23: Overnight Sensation.   Luffa has to figure out what to do with herself now that she has this Super Saiyan power.   She tries to go back to mercenary work, only to find it as boring as it is profitable.  So she starts asking herself what she really wants (revenge), and how she plans to get it (founding an interstellar Federation).

Luffa #24-28: Luffa’s increasing popularity frightens her old enemies and attracts the attention of new ones.   As Kandai flees in search of refuge from Luffa’s wrath, an old acquaintance shows up to reconnect with Luffa in an unexpected way.

Luffa #29-37: None So Blind.   As Kandai becomes entangled in the political upheaval on Planet Goldwall, Luffa is drawn away from her new Federation project by seductive new power, one that promises an escape from her old problems, but at the price of her very identity.   Meanwhile, the Federation is invaded by a powerful enemy from across the stars.   Can Luffa return in time to deal with this new threat.   Will she even want to? 

Luffa #38-49: Liberation of Extraliga.    Luffa launches a counterstrike on the occupied world of Extraliga, then takes the fight to the invaders.   Her offensive leads her to Kandai, but she also has to contend with the Shockmaster.   Can she defeat them both, or will she have to choose?  

Luffa #50-60: Training Arc.   Well, not just training, but I wanted a lull between the first Shockmaster arc and the second, and this is it.    I did a lot of fun stuff here.   Luffa drinks a whole bottle of waffle batter, Zatte gets into a Stand Battle, the characters from an old Dungeons and Dragons ad make a cameo appearance, the Shockmaster gets an origin story, and oh, Luffa might have gotten a little married somewhere in this mess. 

Luffa #61-69: Second Extraliga War.   The Shockmaster invades the Federation again, begging the question of why he should want it so badly.    This time, he conducts his business in person, but Luffa is read for him.   Or is she?

Luffa #70-76: The Luffa Way Arc.     Long story short, I needed an arc to explain why Luffa never taught any other Saiyans how to transform the way she can.   For one thing, most Saiyans are too afraid or resentful of her to want to learn.   In this story, Luffa meets a small band of Saiyans who accept her teachings, but it still doesn’t work out.  

Luffa #77-96: Pozet Arc.  The King of Planet Saiya finally reaches out to Luffa for reconciliation, and Zatte convinces her to accept the invitation.   But it turns out the King wants more than just friendship.   Rehval has a problem, one that concerns the entire Saiyan population, and he is convinced that only Luffa can help him solve it.  

Luffa #97-100: I’ll be real with you chief, this is just a collection of one-offs I wrote before moving on to the next arc.   First, Rehval’s wayward daughter, Princess Seltiss, has her own plans for the future of the Saiyan people, and she and her boyfriend take the first step in making them a reality.    Next, Zatte dictates a letter to her marriage counselor.   Then Luffa tries to figure out whatevr happened to Drang Dedruhn.    Finally, on the world of Archeo, Phyper Notro plots to deconstruct the legend of Luffa, only to discover the truth is much more dangerous than the rumors.  

Luffa #101-108: Trismegistus Arc.  While Luffa persecutes the Saiyans for any leads to track down King Rehval, a group of Saiyans searches for a mysterious alchemist rumored to possess a secret potion that will give them incredible power.   

Luffa #109-117: Jindan War, Part 1.   The Jindan Cult launches an attack on the Federation, and Luffa cannot take the fight to the enemy, since she doesn’t know where their secret base is.   Unable to defend multiple Federation planets at the same time, Luffa reluctantly accepts an alliance with Princess Seltiss, leader of the Saiyan Free Company.   Seltiss fears that the mysterious Trismegistus may unravel her father’s work to unite the Saiyan species, but her only hope of defeating the cult is to win Luffa’s trust.

Luffa #118-130: Jindan War Part 2.   The war continues, with neither side able to gain a clear advantage.  Luffa and her allies manage to repel the invaders, but are worn down in the process.   The Federation grows weary of Luffa’s inability to end the conflict, and the only one who seems pleased is Trismegistus, despite the high casualties and lack of tactical gains.   Eventually, his followers begin to question his motives, but do they have the courage to take action when they discover the answers?

Luffa #131-141: Jindan War Part 3.   Luffa learns the location of Trismegistus’ headquarters, and assembles a fleet powerful enough to crush him in a single attack.    Can Trismegistus survive her offensive?   And can the universe survive the outcome of this battle?

Luffa #142-146: Xenoversal.   In the distant future, a wish is made for a powerful warrior to defend time itself.    And so, Luffa is recruited to join the Time Patrol, led by the Supreme Kai of Time, and the mysterious swordsman Trunks.  But where is she exactly, and when?  Can she ever return home?  Is there even a home to return to?

Luffa #147-156: Ginyu Force Arc.   Luffa now knows how far in the future she’s traveled, and her Time Patrol work seems to be the only thing left that can give her life any purpose.  But can she even accomplish the dangerous missions that lie ahead?   Trunks has his doubts...

Luffa #157-161: Frieza Arc.   Uh, yeah, she fights Frieza in this one.    It probably speaks for itself.   I’m trying to remember a particular moment that happens in the Frieza conflict that would be of great importance to Luffa, but I’m drawing a blank.   Sorry.

[inkribbon796]

The Lost Ones Ch. 1

Chapter 1: Illegal Clones and Legal Crimes

Summary:  Anti liked joking around, he likes pulling pranks and bothering Dark now that he’s permanently moved into Egoton. But one day he decides to take the joke too far, and it gets about five times more unfunny. But when it’s all said and done, Dark had to admit . . . he is charming.

A/N: someone requested this little joke about Dark being short and so I threw it in here.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

~::~ Twenty Years Ago ~::~

It began as things tended to begin with Anti: jokes.

“Hey, Dark,” Anti had burst into Dark’s main office to bother him, again.

“Leave,” Dark told him, not looking up.

“What’dya get when yah combine you an’ Wilford?” Anti sounded like he was trying to keep himself from cackling madly.

“I don’t care,” Dark told him.

“A hot mess,” Anti joked. Usually when Dark didn’t respond he used about anything to try and get his attention.

“If you need a body disposed of, I’m not helping,” Dark warned.

“Yer just no fun,” Anti sulked.

“I’m busy,” Dark reminded. “It’s bad enough I have to put up with Wilford’s antics, I refuse to humor you as well.”

Anti then attempted to stab Dark and the ensuing fight got rid of some of Anti’s pent up energy. It also got the glitch thinking: what would Dark or Wil’s kid be like?

He imagined Dark’s kid would probably be a lot like Dark was, about ZERO fun, and in about six years when he saw Kay and Illinois for the first time he would learn he was right.

But Wil’s kid: that had to be an interesting kid. Wil was mad fun, a complete and utter lunatic, there was no way he couldn’t pass that down to a kid. And fortunately for Anti, Wil was a prolific nymphomaniac. He had to have some kid, somewhere. There was no way the Wilford that Anti knew hadn’t had sloshed, unprotected sex at least once in his life. Everyone in the crime world knew that while Dark and Wil were Ego’s big couple, Wil slept around.

After a month, Anti gave up looking for the brat, either Dark had tried to clean up Wil’s extra-relationship affairs before they could bear fruit, or the kid had been hidden from Dark.

Another couple of weeks passed and his brain came up with a stupid idea: why not clone the assholes? Cut out the middleman. It was probably their only way someone was even going to get an ankle biter out of Dark in the first place.

But, as it turned out, cloning someone was way harder than Anti thought it would be. He needed people to do the cloning, a safe place for them to work. And after Google joined Dark, Anti had to avoid his prying eye because that walking laptop told Dark everything.

The eggheads he’d threatened found had been excited about the process, but hesitantly optimistic about their chances. But either way they’d need a test and Anti shrugged his shoulders and knew he couldn’t get any of the conventional ways to make a kid from Dark at least without getting his head blown off for even suggesting it.

They needed a test and Wil was the easy option.

“So wait?” Wil was already wasted, the slur in his speech even more pronounced after enough margaritas and martinis to kill a normal man, the two were sitting in a private room at some bar, Anti figured the mad man probably wouldn’t remember this come morning. “You need m’ what?”

“Yer aura,” Anti was admittedly a bit buzzed himself, electricity literally arching off of him in some spots. “I mean the docs will prolly use whate’er but I just wanna see what yer aura does if we pick it apart.”

Will just shrugged, and either he didn’t care or was too drunk to care, but he set his arm on the table and whipped out the stiletto knife he usually hid in the garter on his right thigh and ran it down his arm until he randomly stopped. Wil picked something up and a whirling mass of pink and yellow came off.

The mad man held it out. “Here yah go.”

Anti hesitantly grabbed it, it felt like the consistency of cotton candy, but had almost a soapy, saccharine, bubble gum. And to Anti something about it felt twisted and fake.

But by this point Anti knew Wilford was incapable of keeping secrets when he was this sloshed. Wil had already slipped some pretty spicy secrets about what he and Dark did in the bedroom that had Anti demanding that he wanted literal brain bleach to get out of his mind.

So Anti took it and let Wil try his hand at drunken flirting, leaving to go back to his lab coats to see what they could do with it.

And to everyone’s surprise, the aura was reacting to stuff, almost like it was a living organism or a parasite that lived within Wil’s soul and it was very choosy about what it let them stick onto it. Despite the fact that it just sat there and did nothing.

It looked a bit like a slug after it had stopped moving, a pink and yellow swirling slug.

At this point Anti had honestly forgotten about cloning Dark, the glitch demon wanted to see their auras fighting. He wanted to watch Wil and Dark’s auras tear each other apart.

So it was time to get Dark’s aura, but Anti couldn’t just ask the Entity for it, no! He knew that there was no force on earth or Hell that would get Dark to willingly give Anti his aura for his death matches. So he’d have to take a chunk off by force.

It took a week of stalking Dark before he finally got his chance, and Anti was just about ready to fight Dark himself but as luck and fate would have it, Dark decided to got out hunting.

The Entity was stalking a couple gangsters when Anti decided to make his move. They were a local group Anti liked to pick on from time to time, so they were a tiny bit smarter than some of the other groups that had tried and died taking Dark on as if he was Deceit.

When Dark folded himself out of one of the alley shadows, one of the gangsters froze, watching Dark snap his own neck like the drama queen he was.

“Huh,” the braver of the three gangsters realized. “Yer shorter than me.”

Anti almost blew his cover trying to stifle his own laughter. Dark looked insulted and infuriated. “Excuse you‽”

“Sorry,” the guy was over six feet tall, but not more than half a foot taller than Dark or Anti. “I just figured “the Demon of Egoton” would be more demon-like, an’ bigger.”

Dark seemed to get angrier, and Anti was trying to stop himself from laughing so much that he almost missed his chance.

The Entity’s aura shot out and grabbed onto the gangster, one of his friends tried to shoot Dark but it was stopped by another part of Dark’s aura. It began to ruthlessly tear into the gangster and his friends. “I’m not too short to kill you!”

Anti lunged for Dark, managing to get his claws into Dark’s aura. The demon screamed out, in screeching pain. “I’ll be takin’ some ‘a that.”

“ANTI! I will tear you apart so thoroughly that no force in Hell can piece you back together again!” Dark was furious, the gangster that were lucky enough not to get struck by Dark’s rampaging aura were forgotten.

Anti raced off, running into the Void and trying to keep the writhing mass that was Dark’s aura away from the other demon. It was consciously trying to get back to Dark, or to kill Anti, the glitch demon wasn’t sure which and he didn’t particularly care at the moment. He was just trying to get away from Dark to keep him from taking his aura back.

Eventually Anti did get away, it was more luck that anything else. But when the coast was clear Anti returned to the scientists, covered in his own blackish, glitching, ichor blood and holding out the angry, hissing fragment of Dark’s aura.

“Is that thing hissing?” The lead scientist asked, her curly light brown hair barely tied out of the way. Anti had completely forgotten all their names at this point. He was pretty sure it was Beautiful or Bunny or some weird French name he couldn’t pronounce.

“Yeah,” Anti smiled, “let’s throw this bastard in with Wil’s and see if they kill each other.”

“Is that still alive after you disconnected that from him?” She was staring at it like it was a scientific marvel.

“Well yeah,” Anti gestured as he spoke, “Wilf’s just got a weird aura. Most ‘a our auras are like this caustic fooker’s.”

Quickly the scientist grabbed a container, the same type they put Wil’s in and Anti poked at Dark’s aura with his own, trying to get it especially angry.

“Okay, Bunny let’s get this show on the road,” Anti dusted off his hands.

“It’s Beauregard,” she corrected sharply, fixing her glasses as she held onto the container with one hand.

“Ahh, whatever,” Anti dismissed, smiling. “I wanna see that prick’s aura get shredded.”

Beauregard stopped as they entered another room, Anti moving through the wall. “Hold up, if we put them together are they going to just rip each other apart?”

Anti shrugged, “I mean, Dark’s an angry fooker an’ Wil’s aura is infectious, they gotta do somethin’ cool to each other.”

Beauregard and Anti’s conversation came to a halt when they heard some yelling in the next room. She ran ahead, yelling, “What is going on in here?”

“I don’t know,” one of the technicians looked panicked. He and another technician were trying to keep Wil’s aura in the container it was in, the aura was bubbling and foaming, making a weird noise, Dark’s one aura was letting out that high pitched echo that Dark was infamous for. It cause more than one person to look around wildly for the demon to suddenly appear. It almost seemed like the fragment of Dark’s aura was shaking. The entire container Dark’s aura was in almost fell out of Beauregard’s arms. The result was the two auras seeming to square up against each other as if they were going to fight.

Anti was almost cackling, rubbing his hands together, “Come on Bubbles, fook ‘im up. I got a fiver on yeh.”

Wilford’s aura lunged again and suddenly it was inside the same container as Dark’s. The ringing became more intense.

Beauregard jumped, letting out this surprised scream. Then the ringing stopped  when Wilford’s aura just parked itself next to Dark’s and they both calmed down. No one in the room moved, not wanting to set off either of their test subjects. Beauregard watched in awe as Dark’s aura changed from an inky grey to a mix of blue and red, the colors changing between the two but never mixing. It was more blue than red at the moment.

“Oh yeh sappy bastards,” Anti cursed, stomping over. “Come on, I wanted a cage match!”

“I thought we were cloning demons?” Beauregard asked him, most of her attention was on the little aura samples.

“Ehh, I’m already bored, tell me when they actually start doin’ somethin’ interesti’,” Anti dismissed, and then he left.

But when he was fully gone he stuck his head back in, “An’ by that I mean they set themselves on fire or start shootin’ acid.”

“Right, right, of course,” Beauregard agreed, holding up the container and smiling. Even if they failed, she was going to learn some amazing things about auras.

While Beauregard was planning, Anti had already gone back to Brighton to start terrorizing people again.

He was almost immediately found by Dark who demanded the shredded off piece of his aura back, he could grow it back on his own, of course, but didn’t like the idea of Anti having it.

So when Anti couldn’t produce the missing piece of Dark’s aura, the fight resulted in Anti being turned into pixels and Dark walking off with a broken arm and five broken ribs — not that Dark told anyone about the broken bones.

It took him a week to reform. By then he’d actually forgotten he’d gotten a team to do the actual cloning.

After months and months and months, they called him to say they’d “finally gotten a live one” and Anti couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch Egoton burn.

After all, what could be more destructive than Wilford’s madness with Dark’s power?