#this makes me feel things... what if we were both cane users and made HEARTS with our mobility aids....

[gaystims]

Lovecore canes by neowalksticks

[technowoah]

if you're taking asks for the prompts, can you do 11 and 17 from the angst list with george but have a fluffy ending? she/her pronouns pls

I Can Make It Right

SHSJS I HAVE SO MUCH ANGST IN MY INBOX YALL!

Thanks for the request babe! The way it came out was gender neutral i dont think I user she/her, but it still works trust me!

George x reader imagine (established)

11) "It's not important apparently"

17) "You already made me feel like shit so might as well finish me off"

⚠︎ angst with happy ending, unresolved issue but they're gonna fix it dont worry 😌, angry George, swearing

*** = flashback

Masterlist

You had stood infront of your bathroom mirror finishing up your makeup for the night. Your hair was already done and you had a nice outfit on, not to fancy and not too comfortable. While listening to a playlist George had made for you, you had put down the brushes you were using. It didnt really matter if you cleaned up your makeup that was littered all over the sink right now, but right now you were feeling good.

Today was your and George's 3rd year anniversary and you couldn't be happier about it. Today you two were going to dinner and doing something else which was supposed to be a surprise for you. It was a night on the town.

George and you met 4 years ago actually. You two started out as acquaintances, the slowly grew into friends and then one day he asked you to join him to dinner. At first you were oblivious to his actions, thinking he was just being a good friend, but turns out the more dates you two went on the more you caught on. He officially asked you to be his girlfriend 3 years ago today.

His friends keep on pressuring George to propose already, they think it's been long enough. The only thing close to marriage is a promise ring. He put the ring on your finger as a promise that one day he would marry you, everytime you doubt that he will propose you turn your attention to the cute ring on your finger.

You had turned off the bedroom lights and sat on your bed finally relaxing after struggling to find a decent enough outfit for tonight. George said that he was going to pick you up around 6:00 and now it is 5:47 so you had some time to spare.

You had found yourself scrolling through tiktok because you had nothing else better to do at this moment. It was a guilty pleasure of yours even though you and george both joked around about hating tiktok.

Time began to tick away so you had checked the clock on your phone which said 5:57 pm. You had grabbed shoes that you set up against your bed, slipped them on and grabbed all of your belongings for the night. You stationed yourself in the living room waiting till George came to the door.

Nervousness always came up before a date, it was the anticipation actually. You were excited and nervous about the date as you always were, but today for you was special. It was three years worth of beautiful love. You remembered the time he first said I love you too, it was just like it was yesterday.

***

"Hey y/n." George looked towards you. You both were sitting on a plaid, plush blanket with a brown woven basket ontop in between you two. It was just like the movies and that why you cringed because of how cheesy it was when George led you to it.

It was sweet, it was extremely sweet and you loved these dates that George always brung you too. You always felt special when you are sitting next to him.

You responded to George. "Yeah Gogy?" You laughed at the use of his nickname.

"Im trying to be serious right now and you call me Gogy." George smiled and shook his head. "Anyways, you know I love you, right?"

"Of course I do-"

"No I love you. I mean. I'm in love with you." George reached to rest his hand ontop of yours and repeated himself. "I'm in live with you y/n."

You wasted no time answering. "Im in love with you too."

***

6:03

George didnt show up yet, but there was no sweat. He was only 3 minutes late, maybe he ran into traffick. Your stomach was rumbling, but you didnt want to eat yet since you two we're planning to go to dinner. Patience is key, and it wasnt like he wasn't late before.

6:10

You started to get worried, it's been 10 minutes and still no sign of your boyfriend. You had gotton up several times to check outside of your door only to be met with no one. Your mind was jumping to conclusions about if he forgot your anniversary, but you shut those thoughts out for the time being.

6:19

Okay this is getting out of hand. You brung out our phone and began to text George, you couldn't believe that you had waited this long before texting the man.

Where are you? Ive been waiting for 29 minutes?!

[Sent: 6:20pm]

George what are you doing?

[Sent: 6:20pm]

You awaited his text message with your phone faced up on the coffee table infront of you. You didn't want to believe that George woukd forget, or overslept, but that was becoming truth the more minutes passed by with no call or text.

6:30

Calling him was useless, because he didn't answer. He didn't hang up on you he just wasn't picking up the phone, like he turned it off. You started to get worried if something happened to him, if he was in a situation where he couldn't call or text you. You wondered if he was safe at home and not out in the middle of the street.

In a flash all your worries subsided when your phone lit up with a notification.

ThisIsNotGeorgeNotFound is live:

Im Playing golf with my friends

That son of a bitch. Pissed off was an understatement, you were fuming. How could he end up streaming at home when you had constantly reminded him about this day, he knew damn well about this day too. How could he?

You ended up grabbing a jacket and your purse and ended up driving to George's place. It seemed like he was mocking you in a way, he knew you had notifications on for Twitch. You loved to support him and his career, but this was making a fool out of yourself.

Your hand tightly gripped the steering wheel as you tried not to run every red light you cane across. You finally came across George's home, you found a place to park and quickly got out of your car and sped walked your way to George's residence. Finally making up to George's door you knocked harshly on the door probably making more noise than what you intended too. You continuously banged on his door until you got fed up.

Remembering that George had given you a key to his house you dig through your purse to get your set of keys out anr unlock his door. You stomped inside his house and closed the door behind you.

"GEORGE! GEORGE!" You yelled through the house. You were being reckless and annoying, but you didnt care at this point you were fuming and needed to tell George how you feel.

You had made your way to George's recording room where he was talking to his friends on discord. George looked towards you in shock clearly not hearing the sounds you were making throughout his house.

"Y/N?!" George yelled and muted his microphone.

"What the hell are you doing?" You exclaimed back.

"Im streaming thats what Im doing!" George sassed back at you, not paying attention to his screen and the chat.

"Dont get smart with me. End the stream."

"What?! No!"

"You heard me, we need to talk." You crossed your arms across your chest. Your heart was beating too fast for your liking and you tried to calm yourself down, but George's comments were getting to you.

George was about to unmute himself and get back to the game. "No we dont-"

"GEORGE END THE FUCKING STREAM! This is embarrassing! Talk to me cause you have some explaining to do." You snapped at him.

A silence tell upon you two and he glared at you before turning to his stream and closing it out.

"Okay guys! Go watch the other boys streams I need to go now! Bye!" George quickly ended and turned off everything.

He turned around to you still sitting in his chair. "What? What do you want?"

"Do you know what today is?" You asked.

"April 30th." George answered bluntly.

"Thats all you have to say?" You asked in shock. "It's our anniversary dickhead!"

"I fucking know that." George said.

"You do? So why did you start streaming and we had dinner plans?!"

"I told you we were streaming! You weren't listening to me!" George stood up from his chair when he said that.

"When the fuck did you tell me this?!"

"A couple days ago! You didn't listen!"

"But you knew that was our anniversary! And we made dinnerr plans-"

George yelled over you. "A month ago! We made those plans a month ago so excuse me for forgetting!"

"So all these other years you remembered our anniversary and went out of your fucking way to cancel other plans around that date, but today you didnt because why?!" Tears were threatening to fall down you cheeks, but you wouldnt let him see you like that.

"Because I planned this already with the boys! And AGAIN you werent listening to me when I said that-"

"There were several other times that you could've told me too! But you didn't!" You sniffed trying to keep the frustrated tears inside.

"I already planned this and I cant go back on my promise-"

"But you can with me?!" You yelled and George stopped talking. He's just studying your face at this point and you hated this silence.

"Its not important apparently." You said while walking out of the recording room.

"You're being a bitch." He mumbled.

"Excuse me?! That is so disrespectful!" You spun around yelled at him.

"You already made me feel like shit so might as well finish me off." George said in a annoying tone.

"Yeah you should feel like shit! I feel like shit too so-!" You threw your hands up in exasperation and stormed out the room. You had made it to the door before George called out to you again.

"Y/n! Y/n! Please!"

"No! Just..." You paused before opening the door and ushering your way out. "Call me when you get your shit together.

You were currently curled up on your couch eating leftovers that you had in the refrigerator. That had satisfied your hunger for the night because the dinner was canceled that night. Your anger and sadness had subsided and you were only left with an unusual feeling in your heart. Your relationship felt incomplete, this fight felt incomplete. You didnt break up with him, but you were waiting for closure.

The TV was the only light in the room. It illuminated what it wanted to, you didnt care if it was too dark. Usually you would be cuddled up with George at this ungoldy hour, but you weren't and that made you tear up.

Your sadness was still there, your anger towards George turned into pity. You were sad about the actions he took, but somewhere in your heart you could forgive him. You could forgive and move on if he would come to you.

Speaking of, you had a knock on your door. You didn't have the strength to get up, but you did. Shuffling your way to the door you sluggishly opened it to find George standing there with his hands in his hoodie. The person you wanted to see, but at the same time you wanted to slam that door in his face.

"Hey." George spoke and you gave him a small smile, nothing more.

You turned around to find your seat back on the couch where you were comfortable, but also giving him a silent invitation to come inside. You had sat down on the couch not paying attention to George, but you knew he closed the door, took off his shoes by yours, and put his keys on the table by the door like he always did. It was like a routine to him.

George ended up awkwardly standing beside the couch as you ignored him.

"You know, if you didnt open the door I would've used my keys like you did." George tried to spark up a conversation, but you only hummed in response. You were scared that if you spoke, you would cry.

George ended up making his way to the couch sitting beside you and pulling you into his embrace. Your head was on his chest and you began to sob. You missed this it's only been a few hours, but you had felt that in those few hours you had lost everything. You continued to sob into his hoodie as he rubbed your back and shushed you, whispering sweet nothings into the air only for you to hear.

"Im here, and Im sorry. Im so fucking sorry that I did this to you and I only hope that you can forgive me." George said, his voice cracking a little when he said that. You kept crying.

That's what you wanted to hear all along, that's what you needed. You could forgive him in due time, you always will because you love him, you will always love him. You both can always make it right.

[janekfan]

Chronic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802141

Thank you @taylortut for helping me!!!

Jon looked at the clock.

537.

The glowing numbers burned themselves into his retinas. How had it been less than an hour since last he’d checked? No use for it. Better to get himself up and ready for work. But he’d closed his eyes against the headache blaring like a klaxon and he’d have to open them again at some point.

Taking advantage of his lonely flat, Jon allowed himself to indulge the noise pushing its way through grit teeth as he maneuvered his sore legs from under the quilt. He sat a moment, pressing the bare soles of his feet on the cold floor and levering his heavy body upright with a shaking arm.

Exhausted.

And it’s only--a quick glance.

544.

The hell was wrong with him?

Since just before accepting the position as Head Archivist, and rightly pissing off both Sasha and Tim on her behalf, Jon felt like he’d been constantly coming down with something. Dizzy and nauseous and unable to eat, he was chronically exhausted and while he’d never slept well at the best of times, it was evading him more than ever.

And there were his mornings. Struggling to motivate himself out of bed, brushing his teeth with his eyes closed and leaning against the wall. Deciding he could forgo a shower just once more and choosing instead to make breakfast. Forcing himself to eat a piece of dry toast with his heart hammering away in his throat and half laying on the table, panting through his tea. Mentally, Jon prepared himself for the walk to the train, automatically going for his cane because lord knew he needed the support.

He’d get to the Institute hours early.

At least that made him look good?

Taking advantage of being a cane user, Jon opted for a reserved seat, the guilt at truly needing one eating away at his insides. But there were black spots at the corners of his vision and he had to sit down before he fell down and the guilt is a far sight better than causing a scene. The trip was too short. His chest ached from the constant pounding and he pressed the hand not holding his cane for dear life against his breastbone. It didn’t help but the pressure and touch grounded him enough to stand up. To head to the cross street. To wait for the lights to change. To stagger down the stairs and into his office, to drop into his desk chair and focus on every breath of air moving into his body and back out of it.

Jon put his head down. There was no one here. Wouldn’t be for a couple hours yet and he was exhausted, shaking from it. Nauseated. There wasn’t a fever. He’d gone as far as to purchase a thermometer to be certain when the strange symptoms refused to abate no matter how often he let himself rest, no matter the meals he tried his damndest to eat, the water he drank down. He was trying. Jon couldn’t remember ever taking such good care of himself and of course it refused to pay off. In Uni, he’d driven himself into the ground with little consequence. He’d maintained those habits until a few months ago and now--

Muffled voices drifted through his door, the rise and fall of easy conversation. The kind he’d once been allowed to partake in. Laughter filled the air and while Jon wished to join them he knew he wasn’t welcome.

Why had he done it?

Why hadn’t he refused Elias?

Because you’re selfish. You’ve always been selfish. Needy. Greedy, grasping, always striving to know answers and never satisfied with what you're given. You take what you don’t deserve.

Reluctantly, Jon stood, slowly, because doing anything quickly these days has him ducking his head between his legs or waking up on the floor without any recollection of how he came to be there. He could at least collect their research in person, greet them. Try to be the boss they deserved.

Sasha was the boss they deserved.

“Ah, g’good morning.”

“Jon!” Martin, smiling shyly. “You’re here so early!” He began to stammer and Jon’s legs began to ache. This wasn’t a good day. They seldom were anymore. “I m��mean, of course y’you are, you work very hard!” Martin was saved by Tim swinging an arm around his shoulders.

“You’ve broken ‘im, boss.” A flush rose in Jon’s cheeks. He could feel it. “No worries, Marto. He’s always been an early riser.” While it was said in jest, the tone settled heavy in Jon’s chest, directly beside the pain blossoming like a thorny rose. Luckily, he was rescued by Rosie, standing halfway down the stairs and informing him that Elias requested him in his office. Jon didn’t relish the climb, no matter how grateful he was to escape out from underneath Sash’s heavy gaze. She had every right and he would bear his punishment in silence until she chose, if she ever did, to forgive him.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Jon limped out of Elias’ office without any recollection of what they’d spoken about or if he’d even spoken at all. Thumping pain and panic and he knew he was rude to ignore Rosie at her desk but he wasn’t in any shape to hold a conversation, fairly certain that he wasn’t able to currently speak, far too focused on trying to hide how ill he was. But every sound was magnified tenfold in his ears and he could barely remember where the door to the archives was with the way his head reeled and spun. Jon wanted to sink to the ground once he had the door between himself and the lobby but he’d never make it to his feet again after that. Push through, he told himself. Get to your desk. He allowed himself a moment, two, just to put his head to rights, to try and breathe through the battering of his pulse.

And oh god he wasn’t going to make it and he wondered if somehow Elias knew. It was as though he’d kept him standing there talking about nothing until Jon hit his limit, knowing he wouldn’t have the strength to get back to his office.

But he had to try and he’d almost gotten down the ridiculously narrow stairwell before he forgot nearly entirely why he was there in the first place. Was he going up? Down? Meeting with someone? Just arriving? He could barely breathe and the panic welling in his throat was choking and the black was crawling over his eyes and the dizziness only increased and he needed...needed…

For a moment, Jon didn’t recognize where he was, the migraine, the fuzziness, conspiring against memory and reason. But he knew this color, the hideous lick of paint some contractor had splashed over the walls a lifetime ago.

Breakroom?

Wha--

“Jon!” He winced, his own name like broken glass shredding every sense to ribbons. “Christ, are you alright?” Martin, the sounds he made were shrill, grating, and if he’d been able to tell him to be silent, he would have. “We heard the noise--you’d, you fainted! On the stairs! Luckily it was only the last few.” Jon blinked, dull and dumb, forcing himself up, up, up, and through heavy mist and fog in his search for words. Weary to the marrow of his aching bones, Jon slumped on the cushions and tried to think of a way to stop Martin’s incessant chattering. Tim and Sasha, alerted most likely by all the commotion, stood over him and he craned his neck up to look at them. Tim especially looked furious.

“You could have been seriously hurt!”

“S’sorry…” And he was, between his rabbiting heartbeat, throbbing migraine, and difficulty drawing breath into his exhausted lungs, he wanted to cry with how sorry he was.

“This is ridiculous. You need to take better care of yourself.” Jon wasn’t sure why the sting from Tim’s accusation cut so deep and he hung his head, biting trembling lips to prevent the tears threatening to spring free.

It wasn’t fair.

By all accounts he was taking care of himself. More than ever!

“Did you even eat today? Drink anything?” He nodded, miserable, unwell, and equipped with no better answers than the truth.

“Tim. He’s just come to.” The understanding was the final straw, and Jon’s sight blurred with salt damp. “I’ll make sure he eats something before going back to work.”

“Alright, Martin. If he gives you any trouble, call.” At Jon, he pointed. “And you, no trouble.” And he nodded miserably.

“Okay, they’ve gone.” The familiar sounds of the kettle heating filled the room, the clink of a pair of ceramic mugs, the rustling of the tea bags, Martin’s distracted murmuring, all combined to calm him. “How long have you been feeling this way?” Jon looked up, surprised, and shrugged one shoulder, accepting the small plate of biscuits and nibbling slowly and when he finished those, Martin offered up the tea. Sitting with him in companionable quiet, he sipped on his own cup. Nothing more was exchanged and when Jon finished he thanked Martin for the company and locked himself away.

Jon was at wit’s end. Nothing he tried seemed to improve anything and the few times he did speak with a doctor, he was sent away with the same, useless advice, or worse, told he was imagining things, making it up, having panic attacks even though he was familiar with those and this was not that.

Work was a nightmare made even more miserable with the overwhelming amount of paperwork, statements, boxes, misfiled folders and envelopes and items and Jon missed the easy camaraderie and understanding he’d had with Sasha and Tim. Maybe he should resign, try and salvage what little of the relationship they still had, or, or invite them out for dinner, his treat, but Elias would never let him quit and the very idea of entertaining exhausted him. A cuppa appeared at his elbow filled with something new, something floral and slightly sweet, accompanied, as always, by a few biscuits.

“That’s a lot of work, Jon.” He sipped, grateful, lifting an eyebrow in response.

“I knew it would be when I accepted this position.” Undeterred, Martin stumbled forward.

“Y’yeah, I mean, you would have. Of course. I just--” A breath. “I’ve finished with my other assignments, ready for round, uh. Well, another round!”

“Ah. Alright, I’ll bring something over when I pick up your translations.” Martin took back the cup, nodding enthusiastically, and Jon appreciated that it was business as usual, selecting a few he’d been putting off and making his way toward his assistants ignoring inquiring looks in favor of taking the chair Martin offered up to go over his expectations. Short, succinct. A few notes on one translation, advice to remember for next time, and Jon felt reasonably confident Martin could handle himself. It wasn’t until he’d gotten back to his office that Jon realized that was the first time he’d been offered a chair. It was becoming apparent that Martin was good at noticing the little things about them. A blush heated his cheeks and he tried to rub it away, feeling ridiculous that such a small act of kindness made him feel so seen.

Jon pushed forward, ignoring the warnings his body was trying to give him in favor of plowing through his work like he’d always done, and by the time he made it home, was on the verge of collapse. Hot tears of frustration stung at the corners of his eyes, spilling over when Jon allowed himself to feel it. More than anything, he was used to having control over himself, working when he wanted, burying himself in the research, devouring knowledge. Now he was at the whim of his physical form. Paying more attention to it than ever before and never knowing if he was going to wake up and have a good day or a bad day and it was maddening. Managing whatever it was without knowing what it was, was impossible with no rhyme or reason he could discern.

So in the absence of both, Jon kept shoving his way through how difficult it was because if he could just be normal through pretending everything was normal, then it would be.

Jon knew Tim was cross with him and managed to avoid him for most of the day, taking breaks here and there like he’d promised Martin he would do. But his luck, while it had been holding steady, had just run out and he found himself cornered in the breakroom.

“What do you think you’re on about?” Frustration had long since turned to outrage, boiling over.

“Tim, I. I’m not sure what you mean--”

“Damn it, Jon! You’ve already taken on a job you aren’t fit for! You can’t keep heaping your work onto Martin and then swanning off!”

“That’s.” He balled his hands into fists, nails biting crescent moons into his palms. How could he explain when even the doctors thought he was making it all up? Heat rushed through him, top to toe, flushing his face and he wavered, legs threatening to buckle, vision threatening to go dark. He was going to pass out a second time today if he didn’t sit down. But that would mean walking away from Tim, and he didn’t think the man would let him. At least not until he was done telling him off. Better to be silent. Try not to pay attention to how erratic the persistent beating caged behind fragile ribs had become.

“Why didn’t you say no?” Because he wanted to be useful. Because Elias made him feel like he was capable even if he wasn’t. “Why didn’t you just let Sasha have this?” Because he was an awful, selfish person. “God, Jon. Why did you drag us all down here with you?”

Because he was lonely.

Because they’d been friends. Once.

Rather than remind Tim that he was free to go at any time, that he and Sash hadn’t been forced or coerced into accepting positions here in the archives, Jon pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Well?!” Sharp, strident, Tim’s shout echoed around in the space between his own hurting, agonal breaths in his ears.

“I. I, I need to si’down…” wanted to lay down. Wanted to sleep, trembling with exhaustion, about to go down.

“What?” Lashes fluttering as he gripped the thread of consciousness with both hands, he barely registered Tim’s hands around his shoulders, guiding him into a chair and pushing his head down between his knees. “Jon?”

“M’okay…”

“You are clearly not.” A wide palm settled on his back, keeping him folded over. It was helping.

“S’mm...been. S’fine.” The floor came back into focus, all the little cracks and imperfections and Jon counted the streaks in the pattern in an attempt to ground himself but kept losing track of the number. Neither moved until Jon attempted to sit up, slowly, accepting Tim’s help.

“Jon?” He looked spooked, pale. “Please, what’s going on?” His hand settled in the crux of shoulder and neck, thumb ghosting along his clammy skin, and Jon allowed himself to find a morsel of comfort in the familiar gesture, the threat of tears closer than ever. So he reached for him.

“I don’t know.” And Tim pulled away as if burned, the frustration and anger rising in his face again, and Jon was bereft. “T’truly! I--”

“Why won’t you be honest with me? Don’t you trust me?” Standing, he took a step backwards, away from him, the hurt in him a palpable thing. “We’re supposed to be friends!”

Yes. They were friends. It was most likely why for the first time in a long while, the pain in his chest wasn’t a physical ache.

“Tim, I.” Fingers folded to fists to rest on his knees. But he was already gone.

“Jon!” Tentative, Martin lifted his chin. “Oh, oh.” Having been crying, Jon figured his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy and he didn’t bother attempting to hide the evidence. “Alright.” Martin went about making tea, chamomile, herbal and calming, placing it before him on the table with a chocolate digestive. “Drink this down and then go home. It’s half six.”

“Mm.”

“Sleep will help.”

“Mm.”

“I could speak to them for you. If--”

“No!” All but shouted. “No. That won’t be necessary, Martin.” Carefully he stood, paused. “Thank you.” And left.

Jon called off.

Called off again.

Again.

Apologized to Elias in a curt email requesting leave and was granted it.

He ignored his phone. His texts. The knock at the door and Martin’s voice behind it. He slept when he was tired and he was tired often and it was easier besides, to finally listen to the screaming of his body. It was after hours on his fifth day gone when Tim let himself in with the spare key to Jon’s flat.

“Hey.” Sheepish, he held up his hands in surrender, a bag of takeaway from Jon’s favorite place dangling from one. “Martin said you wouldn’t let him in.” Dressed in the most comfortable clothes he had, which were also the shabbiest, Jon glared at him from where he laid on the couch. “I was an arse.” Slowly, he sat up, making Tim wait on purpose, a powerful frown still aimed in his direction.

“You were.” He was aware he looked a mess, greasy hair pulled back in a sloppy bun, but he felt a sight better for the rest he’d gotten.

“Would you accept an apology?” Folding his arms, Jon leaned back into the cushions and fixed his stare at whatever rubbish was on the telly.

“Might do.” Silently, Tim scurried into the tiny kitchen and Jon listened to the familiar sounds of him rooting around for cutlery. It smelled delicious and comforting, a reminder of nights spent together laughing at nothing on this same couch and despite himself, Jon began to relax.

“I’m sorry.”

“Alright.” Tim’s face split in a wide, relieved grin, and he flopped down next to him, planting a loud kiss to his temple before urging him to eat. “Martin sent you here.”

“An angry Marto is not to be trifled with.” Through a mouthful of noodles, Tim chuffed in laughter. “Wouldn’t tell me anything, other than to stop being a prick.”

“He did not.”

“He did not. But it was more than implied!” He put his bowl on the low table in front of them, sitting forward with his hands dangling between his knees. “And he was right. I didn’t give you a fair shake and accused you of awful things. And I know you’re doing your best at this job.”

“Gertrude isn’t making it easy.”

“Neither is your health, I take it.” Jon set his own meal aside, curling into the padded arm.

“No. It isn’t.”

“And you don’t know what’s causing it?”

“I know some things that help. M’Martin has been invaluable.”

“Has he, now?”

“Leave off!”

“Okay, okay.” But he continued giggling as Jon felt his face go hot, muttering.

“He really has.” This time Tim pulled him gently into an embrace.

“Then Sash and I will just have to catch up.”

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 87

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

"You transformed the needle, then." Oscar paced around towards me and examined my work. "I thought you had some of my magic working for you. It's good to have proof."

He picked up the metallic feather and examined the blade the hairs formed closely. It had a hole on its spine where the head of the needle had been and the spine was sharp at the other end like the point of the needle had been. Even I knew that it was sloppy work. But it was something.

"What is magic?" I asked. "Is it all lightning and wind like the maidens? Or is it transfiguring stuff and moving energies around? I don't understand," I said.

"Yes well, perhaps invariably it varies person to person. Even the maiden's powers. After all, no two seasons are exactly alike. I suspect your ability to fly comes from your magic rather than your semblance."

"My ability to fly?" I breathed. "I guess. I mean it started out being something I could only do when my semblance was active. It also used to be just a glide rather than real flight, too."

I could now really fly. I could gain and lose height at will once I got up to speed. Taking off like a jet in many regards. And the power made me fast, too. Not as fast as Ruby while she was mid petal burst but still quite fast.

"Practice makes perfect, Mr. Strife. It seems separate from your semblance in many other ways, no? It's something you have access to all the time rather than just when your semblance is active." Ozpin informed me of his thoughts on the subject. "Your strength too, and maybe your speed might be manifestations of magic rather than just your aura. You've grown very powerful in a short period of time through this sort of practice," Ozpin lectured. "I would be surprised if your magic continues to be like mine. Look at this feather, you didn't manage to transform the material. Your transfiguration seems weak. Your powers are different. Unique to you."

"So my magic is going to be different from yours, for sure. It's got a different basis. It comes out differently because of that. Limit Breaker just helps my progress along the way because that's how Limit Breaker works. It makes me better. Including my magic. I even sometimes wonder if Limit Breaker makes me smarter too, while it's active."

"Indeed, your magic seems combat oriented. Mine has other subtle applications, like allowing me to move the maiden powers around. Like transfiguration and sometimes like flight as well."

"Anything I can do you can do better?" I asked.

"Perhaps not. Flight only manifests in some of my reincarnations. Each one of my bodies is different much like the maidens. Very rarely do I gain extreme speed or super strength like you possess. Indeed that is the same for the maidens," he went on. "The powers of the maidens usually coordinate with the powers of the elements. As you probably well noted. And sometimes they gain the power of flight as well."

"Cinder can fly," I agreed. "But each one is different. Some of them gain super strength or other powers," I said, understanding.

"At times. Magic is incredibly singular and unique to the user. It is not unlike a semblance in that regard. Perhaps invariably. I suspect some of your magical powers are hiding under your semblance. Limit Breaker seems far too powerful to be merely a semblance at times. If it is, it's an exceptionally powerful one."

"But will I be able to summon fire and lightning without dust? Will I be able to cast destructive spells?"

"I don't know. Will you?" Ozpin asked back. He seemed to be genuinely asking what I thought.

I shook my head minutely after a pause. "Probably not. At least I don't feel that way about it. Maybe destructive spells like my Limit Break attacks, like blade-beam. But probably not casting spells like Cinder was able to without dust. But that hardly matters, I've got dust for that kind of thing when I need it. It's… always been relatively easy for me. Using dust in its raw form, that is, anyways."

"Yes." Ozpin tapped his cane against the ground twice. "While magic is mostly a matter of one's own opinion you have shown little promise in this regard. Much like your transfiguration seems weak. That's no true fault of your own, however," Ozpin clarified for me. "Practice makes perfect but we all have particular talents. It would be wise for you to play into your strengths while bewaring your weaknesses. Follow your semblance, do you really have aura or just magic? If so, what feels truly different from aura and what does not? Does flight? Does your immense strength? Does your speed?"

"They could all blend together, too. I might not even have aura in a traditional sense at all. Maybe my powers mimic it," I realized.

"There is also mind magic. Something you will have no choice but to excel at if you wish to resist Salem's influence over your thoughts. Focus on clearing your mind and maintaining your walls against her. Practice shall make you strong."

"I need to learn more," I murmured from where I sat while Ozpin paced around me. "About dust and about myself."

"A wise conclusion," Ozpin encouraged. "Do go on."

"I need to learn how to eat dust. And my blade-beam. That could be magic. Or it could be aura. It's hard to tell, it could even be both. It always came out differently than Qrow's but is that because we have different aura or because I have magic? It's hard to tell. Maybe even impossible to tell. But that could be the point."

"Now I see you understand."

"And that could be why my sessions with Weiss and Ruby are helping me. Focusing on clearing my thoughts helped me with my transfiguration. They all play into each other."

"Precisely. Now do you have any other questions for me?"

"Yes. It's about my sisters. If they have magic too, aren't we outnumbered?"

"Quality of quantity, Mr Strife," Ozpin murmured. "And we shall have the maidens eventually. Or at least we plan to. Plus there are dear Ms. Rose's eyes. All is not lost. Did they fight you with magic?"

"They fought with things like my semblance so that's a hard maybe."

"Then we shall be wary of them. Is that all?"

I nodded.

"Practice, then. Strengthen your mind, I have confidence in you, Mr. Strife."

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Dust eating hurt.

It was a physical process which changed your soul into being more in tune with a particular element or even elements, plural. It brings something out from inside your deepest reaches from this external event. Dust eating reached everywhere inside you and changed that.

It wasn't comfortable.

That was why Hazel's pain numbing semblance worked well with it. Not that being numb to pain was a particularly good thing all the time. Pain was important to give the human mind context. It let you know how much danger you were in. I didn't underestimate it's value. Pain wasn't a weakness and I wasn't about to start criticizing the nervous system in all of its complexity.  

And eating dust was dangerous. It could kill you. It could stop your heart. There was a lot of energy that flowed into you when you ate dust. A lot. That's another reason that it hurt. All that power coursing through you. It could burn you up as well as it was changing you.

You see, when you eat dust the answer to question 'what am I' became at least in part that element. 'Who am I?' Eat a little fire dust and the answer becomes partly fire.

I charged my semblance to full in the training room and stretched myself out a bit. I needed to be relaxed before I tried this. I'd read a little about how to manage eating dust on my scroll but nothing could really prepare you for the real thing. And the thing was that the real thing could kill you. Some people only ever tried it once for one reason or another.

I pulled a fire crystal from my pocket and let the blue flames of my semblance lick at my body. Then I took the crystal and shoved it into my skin above the collar.

It slid into my body without resistance. It sort of plopped into me. Then I changed and the energy coursed through my body. The blue flames of my body turned violet, then red. The exact hue of that exact crystal. It didn't help that no two dust crystals were exactly alike. That made this process a little different for each and every crystal.

My aura changed color and texture. The answer to the question changed and I became fire. Me. Not my body or my mind but who I was even beyond that. My soul became fire. I felt hot, really really hot.

It hurt enough that my body bent. I fell to my knees with a gasp. Fire coursed through my veins. My blood felt molten. My heart beat and my head threatened to burn up. Of course that was metaphorically true. But it was also literally threatening to burn me up.

I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. In through the nose and out through the mouth. My vision came back from swimming steadily and though it still hurt I was able to function.

I let the power flow down into my arms and cast it forward with a Limit Break blade-beam through my sword. I used my sword as my magic wand for this little spell and sent it out. The beam wasn't blue this time. It was a crimson colored wreath of flames that coursed forward. It dashed forward and then where it met a target, just a practice dummy, it exploded.

The force of it sucked the air from my lungs. And though I was made of fire I could feel the heat of it. It wasn't uncomfortable like it might otherwise have been because I was made of the fire still. My aura, where it might have usually been golden was still crimson with the power of the dust crystal. I hadn't used all of the energy of the crystal yet.

That was the other thing about eating dust. It lasted as long as it lasted. And it didn't come with a timer either, maybe I'd get a feel for that eventually but for now I had no idea how long it would last. You were committed to the change until it was over. Until it released you. I swung my sword and it was wreathed with flames as I swung it.

I mimed fighting and shadow boxed against no target.

I let out two wide horizontal slashes with my sword covered with flames. I cast a hand forward and a fireball followed and splashed against one of the walls. I could feel the flames inside of me. And it wasn't killing me yet so I took that as a good sign. Even though it did hurt. It burned at my insides.

I charged my semblance to full, standing still in the training room until it was activated and flared with crimson light instead of the deep blue. Flames still licked at me but rather than just being light like normal instead it was hot. I was actually on fire. I could just scarcely feel it though. It just felt warm where real flames roared. I was at the center of an inferno. I was a walking, talking, explosion.  

I stepped closer to a dummy and my presence with the flames was enough to start dealing damage to it. I'd be a menace to fight while this was active. I'd be burning up my enemy by just being close. This was how my aura reacted to being partly fire. It was as unique to me as my semblance was.

I wanted to try it with lightning next. And then I'd probably leave it at that. I didn't need to know how my aura reacted to being partly ice or gravity. I didn't need to take the risk. Why bother? When I had fire and lightning and it wasn't like wind would suddenly give me the ability to fly. So why take any more risk than I needed to? I didn't have all the time in the world to train. I needed to pick one or two and get good at those. Or at least good enough to use in a real fight.

I just didn't have the time to practice every single one. Every single combination that was. And with every chance I took came the opportunity for me to kill myself with it. If I mixed fire and lightning, for example, what would happen to me? It could just kill me. And over training. Of all the things in my life to fucking kill me, I refused for it to be over training.

Some things I didn't really need the answer to. Yeah I might try it once at some point in safety but I'd never practice it enough that I'd feel good doing it in a real fight. Not like I would with fire and lightning if I practiced them enough.

I leapt forward and flew. I glid up to a training robot and Cross-Slashed it. My sword melted through the machine as much as I tore into it. My presence began to dissolve it as I hovered before it and sliced.

Plus there was only so much pay off I'd get from adding a little more dust to my body. My return on investment would diminish, and quickly, with more crystals. It was probably logarithmic.

Mixing and matching would be fine if my body could take it but that was a big if. So why bother? Just practicing with a couple and getting good with those would serve me better than having a dozen options I was worse at and that might kill me in a real fight. That was the thing about this. It could kill me. Just as much as it could kill my enemies it could get me too. So it was better to practice one kick a hundred times rather than a hundred kicks once.

At least I thought so. I felt the fire wear off and my aura returned to its normal golden hue. It wasn't perfect and there were still traces of the flames inside of me.

I waited until I was confident most of the fire was gone. All bust a few specks. The last bits of it dissolving into me and burning away. Then I took the next crystal into my body. An electric crystal of deep yellow. My body flared from it and I could taste ozone as I slid the crystal into my body.

My aura turned yellow from it's golden color. I could feel the wattage over my tongue and behind my eyes. I swept a normal blade-beam forward and it was a crackling vertical wave of lightning that came out of the tip of my blade.

Then I charged my semblance to full. A lightning storm surrounded me. I flew forward and the motion felt like a jolt. I flew up to a training machine and lighting just poured from my body and wreathed the machine. Tendrils of electricity followed my blade as I cut into it. Tongues of lightning carved trenches in the metal of the robot.

Then I swept my Limit Break blade-beam through and at a training Atlas robot. It became trapped in a miniature lightning storm that harassed it and destroyed it.

I was starting to feel exhauston now from three different Limit Breaks but I felt strength enough for one more. I charged it to full one last time and tried a lightning coursed Octa slash on one of the training robots. I destroyed it completely and slumped to the side. My aura was still coursing with lightning. I waited for the tingling to die down and for my aura to return to normal and I panted hard.

The Limit Breaks took energy from me. They weren't free. Then there was a bit of exertion from the dust itself. To keep myself together and not fall apart due to the energy coursing through me wasn't easy. I figured with more practice I'd be able to manage it in a real fight, though.

For now I wasn't at that point. And the power could still kill me. Pain was there to alert you that something was wrong . And the pain I felt when I absorbed dust like this wasn't a miscommunication per se. It could get me.

I leaned against a wall and breathed hard. Still, I thought I'd be able to make one of those two work in a real fight.

I slumped down with my sword leaning against the wall over my head in the broadsword form. I was tired. My body couldn't keep training, even if I wanted to. It had been a while since I'd felt like that. Not since I'd gotten the new sword.

I examined the weapon. Particularly where Pyrrha's weapons and armor had been forged into it.

Pyrrha…

Would we be together now if she hadn't died? I did miss her but I wouldn't want to trade away what I had now. I was a different person than I would have been if she hadn't died. The question wasn't fair. For either of us.

I ran a hand through my hair. I was pretty content with my current setup. I didn't need to ruin it by looking for reasons to do so.

I sighed. I felt a little lighter.

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-WG

[bisexualsforprompto]

How to Heal a Missing Heart Chapter Two

A/N Geez I’m sorry, this is long overdue, I’m gonna try to be more consistent with updates

Beginning One Next

Clark wasn’t sure what to think.

On the one hand this little French girl had just asked for his help and explained her situation, making his Superman urges burn. On the other hand the ridiculous story he was just told (a butterfly terrorist, really?!) was making his Clark Kent skeptical journalist who always checked his source’s urges burn. As he was being tugged back in forth internally trying to find the side he should listen to,

“I can see that you are struggling to make a decision,” The girl said in a way that made him feel guilty, “I’m guessing the problem is that you don’t believe me.” Clark nodded slightly. “Spots on.”

Clark didn’t normally have to shield his eyes from anything having extraordinary powers and all, but a blinding light overtook the little girl when she spoke those words and he turned his face away immediately.

When he realized the light was gone he turned back and saw the same young girl standing before him only this time in a spotted red and black costume with what looked like...a yo-yo?! beside her.

“My name is Ladybug, hero of Paris. Are you more inclined to believe me now?”

“How...what was that?” Clark asked.

“The magic of the miraculous, the same thing Hawkmoth uses to terrorize my city.”

“How can I help?”

~~•~~•~~•~~

“I don’t have a lot of information. A while ago I got a lead that Hawkmoth could be one of the Agrestes, but because of my...foolishness I ruled them out. Logically, it makes more sense if Hawkmoth was Gabriel Agreste, but he could also be Adrien Agreste the-“

“The model?” Superman questioned as he flew across the sky, keeping up with Ladybug’s yo-yoing.

“Yes.” She responded curtly.

Superman realized there must’ve been some unresolved feelings there, but he chose not to pry.

“So…What’s our next move, why do you need me?” Clark asked instead.

“I need you because we’re going to the Agreste manor, if my hunch is correct then I’m going to need backup. And my partner can’t be trusted right now.” She muttered the last part lowly to herself.

Superman sighed, the poor girl had obviously been through a lot, he could see the bags under her eyes and the exasperation she had in her inflection whenever she spoke about other people.

Clark understood, it was the voice of someone who had been abandoned and couldn’t trust anyone. He had seen it all too many times, and he knew that when they were done defeating the villain- Hawkmoth- he’d need to find a place for her...otherwise she could be the next villain Clark had to fight.

Superman huffed to himself, no child should’ve been entrusted with such a duty, and from what she had told him her old mentor was gone- he had lost all his memories- and she was the sole protector of extremely powerful jewels.

A teenager had this burden on her.

Clark knew he would have to take the stress off of her, she was used to being a leader, but what she really needed was to be somewhere with people who she could trust, and she wouldn’t have to feel so responsible all the time.

He knew the perfect place too…

~~•~~•~~•~~

“Aha!” Ladybug exclaimed with a grin, the first time Clark had seen a smile come from her. “Could you use your X-ray vision on this?” She asked, pointing to a metal circle shaped like a butterfly.

Superman squinted, he saw an empty space, nothing suspicious. He wondered why she was so intent on him looking...until he saw butterflies.

White butterflies flapping around frantically, everywhere. There was something else too…

A butterfly garden, but in the center-

“No!” Superman exclaimed, stepping back.

“What is it?!” Ladybug asked eagerly.

“There's a woman in there...I don’t think she’s dead, but she’s not exactly alive either.”

Ladybug’s eyes lit up. “It can’t be…”

“What?” Superman questioned.

“Can you look again, will you describe to me what she looks like.”

Clark nodded and squinted again, “She’s pale and blonde. She’s in all black and...her ring finger has a mark from where a ring used to be.”

“Emile Agreste…” Marinette murmured.

“Who?”

“You’ve heard of the Agreste brand, right?”

“Yes, Gabriel Agreste the head designer and Adrien their model, both who you think could be Hawkmoth.” Superman affirmed.

“It all makes sense…” Ladybug said to herself, then addressed Superman again, “Sorry! Um, Emilie Agreste is the wife of Gabriel, she disappeared and Gabriel fell off the map. He became paranoid and wouldn’t leave his home. He must be trying to bring her back…”

“What? How could he do that?”

“When the miraculous of the black cat and the ladybug, mine, are merged the can grant the user one wish. But it always comes at a price, and it’s the cost is always more extreme than the wish. If Gabriel Agreste wished for Emilie to be fully healed people all over the world would fall into comas.” Ladybug said, Superman could feel the stress radiating off of her.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, “How can we stop him?”

Ladybug sighed. She squinted at the metal circle that could help her access Hawkmoth’s lair. “I have an idea, but we need to be quick. Can you use your heat vision to make an entrance for us.”

Superman nodded and Ladybug watched as the red lasers coming from his eyes swiftly burned a large hole into the entrance of Hawkmoth’s lair. Superman stepped forward and went to go into the butterfly garden, “Wait.” Marinette said. “Gabriel is rich, he’s not going to leave his lair unprotected. Lucky charm!”

A spotted gun flew into Marinette’s arms.

“That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?” Superman shuffled nervously, hoping she wasn’t going to kill.

Marinette smirked. She tilted her head and came closer to the entrance that Superman had carved out. She angled the gun slightly and shot at what Superman realized was a security camera. Only, it wasn’t a bullet that came out, Ladybug had summoned up a paintball gun. He heard four more shots and noticed all the visible security cameras were covered in red paint.

“Clever.” Superman said stepping into Hawkmoth’s lair.

Ladybug used her yo-yo to drop in front of the coffin like structure that Emilie Agreste was laying in. “We don’t have much time. Hawkmoth will be down here any minute and we need the upper hand. Superman I need you to stand next to Emilie’s coffin, prepare to destroy it if need be.”

“But-“

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.”

Superman knew it would be futile to argue with the teenager, she clearly knew what she was doing and he was just going to have to trust her.

Suddenly, Superman saw someone being lifted up by a platform into the lair.

Hawkmoth was scared, both heroes could tell, but more so he was angry.

“What is the meaning of this?!” He shouted, preparing his cane.

“Gabriel Agreste.” Hawkmoth stepped backwards inadvertently at the use of his real name. Ladybug kept going with a stoic expression, “You have terrorized the people of Paris for too long. If you go peacefully with me and turn yourself and your co-conspirators in, I can guarantee no harm will come to your wife.”

“Is that a threat Ladybug?” Hawkmoth spat.

“That depends.” Ladybug said with fury in her voice, “Are you going to come with me and give up your Mayura, who I’m assuming must be Nathalie Sancouer, am I right?”

“You can’t do this to me.” Hawkmoth hissed, “I have worked too long and too hard to bring her back! I’m not going to let you ruin everything!”

“Mr. Agreste!” Ladybug boomed, “If you try anything I can guarantee the police will surround this place. I’ve already dialed them, they’ll be here any second.”

“Fine Ladybug.” Hawkmoth seethed, “You win.”

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[floweryfreelance]

𝕴𝖓𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖆 𝕽𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖚𝖘

CHAPTER FOUR

Table of Contents

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |

This work of fiction is an original collaborative work between tumblr users @theearltrancy and @floweryfreelance. Its original format was in that of a roleplay, and has been edited to be a more cohesive story. This work was created on 11.10.20 and completed on 11.30.20.

Please consider following each author for more fictional works.

-

Ciel made his way up the grand staircase in the center of the foyer, admiring paintings on the walls as he made his way down the hallway towards his own bedroom. As he walked, growing closer and closer to Alois’ old spare room, he heard voices. Ah, he must have been right. That cocky demon butler of his must be getting a stern talking to. He smirked.

Feeling too mature to stand with his ear against the door, Ciel simply slowed his walking pace, tuning his ear just in case he was able to pick up anything being said inside the room. And what he heard, well, it certainly didn’t sound pleasant.

Inside the room was Alois’ voice quickly reaching a louder and louder pitch. He once saved his anger for Hannah, but the roles had reversed now, the man’s now deeper voice rattling things in the room. He could feel himself getting too heated, but the demon couldn’t feel pain; he was keenly aware. 

“No, I don’t care, you absolute wretch!” He screamed, taking his own shoe from earlier and tossing it at the butler’s head. He dodged, the object smacking the wall behind him. “I will do things in my own time, do you understand? I will not be a pawn for your f*cking problems anymore! Not tonight, not ever!” 

Claude’s response was low and threatening, almost as if he were still disciplining a child. In fact, he seemed to think that’s exactly all he was doing. The dismissive attitude only angered him more. “Your Highness… If you do not have the drive to take that man from that wretched butler, you will only be stuck with me longer. It is beneficial for us both that you complete your contract, and that means you must take the boy.”

“For you! Always for you! I signed that contract thinking I would get something out of it! Maybe a companion, for god’s sake!” Alois screeched, knowing now he could be heard from outside of the room. “But all you’ve done is lie to and cheat me! I wanted you to take me!” 

“You know I cannot do that until you find a way to take him. Even if you isolate him, I can leave. I can make it a pleasurable experience for you.” 

“But that’s not what you really want, is it?” The man retorted, cooling into sass. “Get the hell out of here. And take your god damn attitude too. That’s an ORDER.” 

The door opened moments later, revealing an emotionless Claude if not slightly annoyed, and a simply vicious Alois with his arms crossed on his chest. The demon nodded at Ciel as if nothing had happened, but a peek in the room would show that was not the case. The blonde had been throwing all his things around, tearing his clothes from the closet onto the floor now, a flurry of a man. Though grown now, it was at times as if all he had grown was taller.

Ciel couldn’t mask his searing glare at the butler as he walked past, perhaps partially compensating for just how shaken he felt after hearing their words, particularly Claude’s. He really would give anything to just see him dead, wouldn’t he? As is the nature of such a contract.

Seeing Alois in this fragile state, knowing he hadn’t been noticed quite yet, he quietly stepped into the room, looking at the clothes on the floor. “..You’ve made a mess.” He noted, bending down to pick up a deep purple coat that had been crumpled on the floor. “Did you notice?” He inquired, looking up at the distressed blond man before him. “These clothes, they’re yours from all those years ago. I left them.” He inspected the sleeves. “I’m frankly surprised there aren’t more moth holes.”

In his experience, Ciel knew the best way to approach Alois during these fits of rage was calmly. In fact, his presence typically helped to calm him down regardless.It pained him to see him like this. In the past, he found his tantrums childish and annoying, but since growing to understand him, they just hurt to see. However, he always kept a slight distance until he could tell if he was still in the heat of the moment. And so, Ciel stood still, gently holding the small boy’s coat in his hand while looking at his love.

He took a step closer, standing so that his leg was just brushing Alois’ arm as he sat on the ground. He crouched beside him, still holding the purple coat. His mind wandered, trying to find the right words to say.

“..I.. lied earlier.” Ciel admitted, rubbing the coat fabric between his thumb and forefinger. “I didn’t leave this room untouched. I had it cleaned everyday.” It was embarrassing to admit, he felt, but he wanted to ground Alois. He wanted to remind him he was wanted and loved and desired. He could withstand feeling embarrassed for a minute or two. “The maid dusted everyday, changed the sheets once a week. And by the looks of it, kept your old clothes ironed. How she did all that everyday, I don’t know.”

He stood once again, looking around the room he hadn’t stepped foot into in eight long years. It truly looked as though it was in present use, not a speck of dust or a single stain anywhere to be found. Impressive, he thought to himself. “I remember sneaking in here.” Ciel couldn’t help but smile softly. “On the nights when you were too stubborn to come to my room, and waited here until I grew impatient enough to sneak into yours.” 

The thought brought a small smile to the man’s face, though he betrayed none of that information to the other. He did lift his head, though, taking a look around at the hell he had created. Though his anger had once again caused destruction, he couldn’t help but notice the man was correct - the room was dusted, polished, and comfortable. His old clothing was flawlessly ironed, and he remembered that before he’d been triggered, it was in fact all folded and hung just the way it was when he was a teen. He let some of the tension in his body go, taking one hand from his head to rest his arm on his knee. 

“We took turns.” He recalled, still breathing heavily but coming back to the room slowly, “I liked to play. You made it easy.” He looked his lover in the eyes. “We were so small.” The man sighed, looking away to the clothes on the floor surrounding him, noting he had also made a small dent in the wall behind them with his heel. 

Note to self. Aim better next time.

“We did play.” Ciel agreed, standing and walking to the wardrobe, hanging the purple coat back in the closet. The remaining clothes could be taken care of in the morning, as they were the least of his concerns. The white night clothes set out on the bed caught his eye, though upon closer inspection, he noticed there were two pairs. He smirked, that idiot, he thought, knowing Sebastian must have thought it would be amusing to prepare for what they all knew would happen.

Turning back to Alois, he held out his hand and leaned his cane against the wardrobe. “Here now, stand up. We don’t have our butlers to dress us,” he said sarcastically. “But we can’t sleep in our dinner attire.”

Smiling gently to himself now, Alois took another deep breath and stood up, dusting himself off. He bit his lip, planning his next move, for they were finally truly alone. The man took a good few solid steps towards the other until they were impossibly close. The sudden movement pressed his lover against the closed door of the closet, placing an arm on the other side so that the man couldn’t escape him. 

“I suppose we can’t.” He acknowledged, placing his free hand under the other’s chin. This being the first time since they were young teenagers, he added, “Hm, seems I’m still taller than you.” 

If there were any way he knew how to transition out of an intense emotion, it was straight through another one - lust. Even as an adult, he only had three modes - indifferent, violent, and reveling in sin. 

“So. Dress me.” He ordered.

The cool of the wood door against his back counteracted the heat filling his body. Eight years had passed since he was spoken to like this, touched like this. The Earl honestly thought he would never experience anything like it again, so long as he lived.

His heart pounded in the chamber of his chest, and he wondered if the other man could feel it too. His jaw shifted as he swallowed hard, feeling the warm fingers of his lover caressing his chin. Ciel melted for him, just like he always did. “Don’t order me around..” he protested, the tone of his voice eager and excited but attempting to hide behind a disguise of stubbornness.

Without taking his eyes off of him, Ciel cautiously reached up to Alois’ chest, grasping the buttons of his overcoat and beginning to undo them. His hands visibly shook and he cursed himself for it, it was as if it were the first time all over again. 

“And if I do?” He purred, holding control over himself while he leaned in to press a small kiss on Ciel’s earlobe. His whole body pulled closer, closing even more distance between the two. Leaving just enough space for the buttons to come undone, he leaned back once they were loose, shrugging the coat off to the floor along with his other things. The size difference was notable when the two coats were side by side, Alois now pushing 6′ tall himself. 

In response, he reached back out to his lover’s chest, pulling button after button open. The pale skin underneath caught the moonlight like a modern day Adonis. Just as Aphrodite had done long ago, he would sacrifice his sanity to spend only several nights a year with him if it came to it. Now there was definition to his chest - not quite muscle, but the man wasn’t soft either. Alois smiled mischievously, ducking in for a deep kiss on the lips with no hesitation. 

While the other was nervous and shaky, the taller man was confident and needy. He’d bided his time pretending that positions like this were with his fantasy to begin with. Now that it really was the one he imagined most nights, he’d waste no time. He’d push the subject and get his way - for once, just for once.

“Y..You..” A sad attempt at a protest. He was helpless at this point, as he always was when they played this game. Shuddered breaths escaped Ciel’s lips, his throat and hands and legs beginning to throb with the violent beating of his heart. Hardly even noticing his own buttons being undone, he couldn’t help but stare at the unfamiliar physique of his partner, still just as pale and soft and smelling of lavender, but larger. Of course, he was used to that aspect, as Alois had always had the advantage when it came to physical size. Another reminder they were men now.

A cool breeze crossed his chest as button after button was opened, and he trailed his fingertips down his lover’s abdomen, touching him as if he was still unsure if he was really there. His fingers kept moving until they reached a new texture, his eyes following. A scar. The scar. His thumb gently ran across it, memories of that awful night haunting his memory again.

A distraction. He wanted a distraction. This moment was too sweet to be ruined by those nightmares. Ciel’s hand darted back up Alois’ body, wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him back in for a deeply passionate kiss, the feeling of his lips on his own bringing him back to the present moment.

Noticing his pause, Alois was pulled out of the moment for a split-second, eyes following the other’s to the raggedly-healed wound on his abdomen. Once upon a time, it nearly killed him. It took months to seal up to the point he would no longer vomit blood. Yet, it served as a reminder to tie the two together. The man had made peace with it, never answering Jean honestly when he asked about it. A fight with a carriage, maybe he’d fallen, sometimes he changed his lie to keep it fresh in his mind. Little did he know about the beautifully composed violent blue boy in London. 

Though the thought didn’t last long until he was to be wrapped in another kiss. The two lost themselves in the texture of the other’s lips, the newfound fullness and softness. For a moment, the blonde forgot that for the other, it had been years since he felt this much passion, for he knew his lover would only accept a partner that could destroy him and build him back up in one night; a challenging love. The night allowed for this kind of depraved waltz. 

Shrugging off his own shirt, he pulled off the necktie he’d chosen for that day, pulling it behind Ciel’s neck and quickly grabbing it tight - cutting off breath for a split-second. The gasp for air would last long enough to make the other slightly dizzy, almost a drunk sort of feeling. While Ciel had been saving himself for marriage, Alois had been learning new tricks in Paris.

His breath caught in his throat as his neck was pulled forward slightly, his eyes widening at the unfamiliar and sudden sensation. He liked it. His hands grabbed tightly at his lover’s shoulders, his body’s initial reaction being to fight for air, until he relaxed and leaned into the lightheaded feeling. As the tightness of the tie around his neck loosened he gasped for breath, heat pooling in his lower stomach.

Ciel’s hand ran up the back of Alois’ neck, lightly entangling itself in the silky blond hair and tugging, all needy and wanting. It was during moments like these that Ciel was thankful there wasn’t a mirror nearby, as he’d never be able to forgive himself for how he looked now- desperate and weak, two traits he prided himself on seldom exhibiting. Meanwhile, his free hand worked its way down to the other’s trousers, his subconscious growing impatient.

A devilish smile crossed the man’s face, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he felt his lover’s hand stray from his chest. In reaction, the blonde grabbed the other by the hips, fingers hooking through the belt loops. Using this guide, he swung Ciel to the other side and walked him back to the bed in the center of the room. 

The soft silk accepted the two into its folds as Alois pressed him down into it, following on top in a straddle. Oh, how long it had been since he had looked down at the real version of this scene rather than the discount. It even made the space worth it somehow, made the taste sweeter. Reaching down to finish undoing all the remaining buttons on his lover’s chest, he took a second to trace the new body. He was certainly well-built, and knowing how many sweets the other indulged in, it made him wonder exactly where it came from. Of course, this matched his fantasy even more so and lit a fire within him.

“I’ve missed the real thing..” He whispered, leaning down to place a lengthy kiss on the other’s exposed collarbone. “You’re worth it.”

Ciel’s hands instinctively fell against the pillows on either side of his head as he laid back, his body remembering how many times he had been pinned down in this position to be toyed with by his lover. His chest rose and fell as he took shallow, nervous breaths, his spine arching ever so slightly as he felt the other’s lips against his collarbone.

This was bliss, it had to be. For eight years he spent every night alone, many of those nights sleepless as Alois’ face appeared behind his eyelids. And yet, here he was. Here they were, tangled in each other’s arms and peppering each other with kisses and nips, their bodies illuminated by a sliver of moonlight shining through the curtains. If he had ever wanted a painting of anything, it would be this.

A hand came up to cradle Alois’ head as he kissed his chest, his other hand sliding up his lover’s thigh eagerly and brushing his fingertips just underneath the hem of his trousers. Lifting Alois’ head so his eyes met his own, he tugged lightly on the fabric of his pants. “Off.”

“Hm,” Alois snickered quietly, smiling against the other’s skin. He’d forgotten all about the past few weeks, even the dent he’d just made in the wall. The man leaned back to stand and undid his belt, allowing the layer to fall to the floor. All that remained now was a pair of not-so-modest undergarments and his socks, illuminated by the moonlight. 

“Since you want to be so demanding,” He purred, leaning back in to speak right against the other’s neck. “You too, coward.” 

The two were as close to heaven as they could ever get. Living in sin left one with only so many options - sink to the bottom, or find a way out. Being that they’d already sold their souls, this love was to be their only glimpse of it. That it was; both were old enough to savor it as such, hardened by the world outside this room. Yet, they were still young enough to allow some recklessness into their doomed sorts of lives. Knowing this fact, Alois rolled off his lover, now sitting on the edge of the bed and gesturing. Up.

He would never admit it aloud, or maybe even to himself, but Alois was more than likely the only person who could order him around, and have it arouse him. His eyes watched intently as his partner continued to undress, noting the way his fingers methodically moved, the way his stomach and chest expanded with every breath; it was exhilarating.

Hearing the command, Ciel moved in carefully calculated movements, as if he could be pounced on at any moment. He stood up, dropping his unbuttoned shirt to the floor before moving onto his own trousers. Button by button, the fabric loosened before pooling around his ankles. He stepped out of them, his hands on Alois’ shoulders for balance. And there he stood, nearly naked and completely vulnerable for the first time in nearly a decade.

The bluenette moved as if leaning in for another kiss but hesitated, leaning away again. He reached behind his own head, grabbing the string of his eye patch between his thumb and forefingers, pulling until it loosened and fell to the floor. There, he thought, off.

Surprised by the sight of both eyes, the man’s eyes locked with the other’s. A soft sound of “oh, love…” escaped his lips, his hand moving up the side of Ciel’s skull to gently hold him there. He took a moment to gaze into both eyes, having all but forgotten he’d only ever seen the one. Even as teens, Ciel was always cautious about how much of himself he revealed even when completely alone. Though he knew the contract resided there, it never really dawned on him that he had never seen it. Recognizing how raw this moment was, the man leaned back until he was flat against the bed, other hand coming up to trace along his partner’s chest. 

It was only moments before he pulled him back in for a deep kiss, filled now with all the longing and pining of eight full years. For a moment, it crossed his mind that this man deserved better from him- he always had. He deserved all his raw moments, anger and joy, sickness and health, fear and confidence. Alois wished he could find a way to give that all to him. If only there were a way, Alois would risk it all. Maybe someday they could play dead and run away, have Sebastian kill Claude, write Lizzie a nice letter - something about market study in the States. 

At least they could sail away in these sheets for the night, he thought. Before he realized it, his hands had travelled to his lover’s waist, pulling them so close together that it would require something earth-shattering to pull them away. His mind was scattered, but his body fell into old patterns, finding it completely impossible not to touch the other. Suddenly, every moment he spent with his ex-lover felt like a paperback book that ended on a cliffhanger- so close to satisfying, but nothing compared to a happy ending.

Vulnerability was surprisingly becoming on Ciel; as someone who prided himself on being completely untouchable both emotionally and physically, he appeared most beautiful in this state, especially in the eyes of his lover. He rubbed his eye slightly, trying to regain the balanced sight of two eyes he had been lacking for a whole day. He wanted to see Alois clearly.

Pulled back in for a deep kiss, Ciel climbed forward, straddling the blond man underneath him with his arms wrapped underneath his neck, pulling them impossibly close. He hummed as their hips ground against one another, as he brought one hand around to lightly trace his thumb across Alois’ bottom lip.

“Let me see yours..” He whispered, his digit pulling down lightly on his lip and brushing against his bottom teeth. The other Earl’s contract seal was not new to him- he had seen it before a number of times, but he had nearly forgotten what it looked like now, the image just a fuzzy memory buried in his mind. This thing, this stupidly complicated thing, was one of the few things that they felt tied them together.

Smiling with his teeth, a rare sight in and of itself, the man was glad he could share this with someone. Jean knew nothing of his contract, making efforts to hide his contract from the lover of his. It was a deep secret once he left the city, one he planned to take to his grave after Claude gutted him for his soul. It was a secret he shared with the man in front of him and in a way, the shared tragedy made him feel like he could be all of himself without effort. 

He allowed his tongue to stick out of his mouth, the inactive pattern still visible despite its faded nature. It spoke to the strength of the bond he held with his demon, or lack thereof. Though it looked like a burn mark when it wasn’t on display, it was still visible. Alois searched his lover’s eyes for approval, insecurity bleeding through his expression.

Sensing his partner’s vulnerability his lips curled into some mixture of a smile and a smirk, enjoying the look on his face though trying to remain comforting. “Beautiful..” he whispered, fingers grasping Alois’ jaw to pull him into another kiss. This kiss was backed with more fire, all teeth and tongue as they savored the taste and texture of one another.

The fire in his belly growing hotter, he found himself subconsciously rocking his hips against the other’s, searching desperately for some sort of friction to release the knot he felt forming deep inside him. His neediness was showing as he pulled down on his partner’s undergarments, annoyed by the thin pieces of fabric still keeping them even remotely decent. “These too..” he whined, clearing his throat as he felt embarrassment wash over him at the sound of his own voice. “Off..”

A light laugh left his lips, finding the desperation completely hilarious. Alois pushed his lover off eagerly, shifting his legs to get the undergarment off and allowing it to fall to the floor. He swiftly pulled the other man back in for a deep kiss, rolling the two over so that he could position himself on top and straddle the other. Now completely nude, the moonlight caught his skin in his moment of pause. 

“You’re so demanding…” He purred, leaning back in and winding a hand behind the other’s head. He locked his fingers in the denim hair, briefly eliciting a light amount of pain. “Though, you’ve been saving yourself.” He added, raising an eyebrow to challenge him. He’d missed just how needy his lover got with him, circumstance leading them to secrecy, and him being the only man unafraid to break that barrier - the only man who held this secret with him.

A soft whine left his lips as his head was pulled back, his Adam’s apple protruding from his throat as his neck arched. His face contorted slightly as he gazed up at the controlling man, brows furrowed and eyes slightly widened as his face flushed a deep rosy red.

He would be lying to himself if he tried to claim he wasn’t at least a bit nervous, as excited as he was. It had been nearly a decade since he had been in this position, this situation, and it had his nerves running rampant. Considering he still wasn’t married, he really hadn’t been physically intimate with another person since he was a young teen, when they experimented with each other’s bodies and memorized every curve and mark.

Ciel swallowed hard, the action difficult with the angle of his neck. “Eight years.. yes..” he breathed, his hands gently running up Alois’ thighs, dangerously close to his core but refusing to touch it. As desperate as he appeared, he liked to play games with him, too.

“Mm…” He trailed, tensing at the touch and biting his lip to stay calm as possible. “All for me, then..” He hummed. He was getting closer to losing his mind in the intimacy, whole body heating up. While he hadn’t had a lack of intimacy by any means, none of it was anything honest. He’d used his ex-lover as a means to an end, a way to spend those eight years not so alone. None of it was true pleasure. 

But this, this most certainly was just that. It was as if he hadn’t been touched in years either, never as nervous with another as he was with Ciel. The man knew every curve and spot by muscle memory, but his passion clouded his mind, rendered just as useless.

Removing his hand from the back of Ciel’s head, he grabbed the hand that was wandering near his thighs. Alois guided it, allowing it to rest directly beside his member, leaving the choice still ever open. Besides, his own hands had become shaky, his eyes having trouble staying open. “Please…” He whispered, opening his eyes for a second to reveal a pleading expression.

Ciel’s lips parted and hung open, his eyes never leaving Alois’ as he carefully wrapped his palm around the other’s member, grasping it gently. He watched his face for a change in expression, enjoying teasing his lover even as he laid underneath him, powerless.

Truth be told, Ciel would stay in this moment for all eternity if he could. Just the two of them; bodies bare and vulnerable, entangled in each other’s arms and legs twisted around one another, just like this forever.

Despite his current position, he couldn’t help but feel a rush of confidence as he touched the other man, his hand slowly beginning to move back and forth, his movements triggered by muscle memory. He grinned, looking up at Alois through half lidded eyes. “I so love that face you make..” He commented, his free hand running up and down Alois’ chest and stomach. “The same face, only older..” His hand squeezed slightly around the other’s member, hoping to provoke a more entertaining reaction from his partner.

Upon the contact, the blonde man gasped loudly, clapping a hand over his mouth in embarassment. Although they were entirely alone, it had been a long time since he’d felt a genuine surge of passion and the sudden vocalization shocked even himself. Confident, my love. 

“Ah-” he attempted, his breath catching, God, it was so hard to speak when handling actual pleasure. His entire body was so hot. “I’ll need to relearn you…” He trailed, eyes closing again, “all over again…” He admitted, his memory of Paris disappearing as the evening turned to deep blue night. 

Like the other, he wished for the time to just freeze here. They were so safe under the cover of night, and they didn’t have to lie to the world here. The blonde could be open with the other man underneath him, mouths and sins combining.

Ciel’s face subconsciously mimicked the other’s, his mouth slightly agape as he felt his lover harden under his touch. He continued stroking softly, tracing his thumb ever so gently around the tip.

“Then start studying..” he whispered, his voice breathy and longing. The knot in his stomach grew tighter and hotter, the friction between the two of them arousing himself as well. “You have a lot of catching up to do.” His cockiness was showing, made even more obvious by the smirk spreading across his lips like melted butter. Ciel spoke teasingly as if he himself didn’t have to relearn his lover’s body.

But his teasing didn’t stop there. He swiftly removed his hand from Alois’ member, placing both of his hands by either side of his head against the mattress. Alois got a taste, now it was his turn. And he would lay here until he got it. Clearly it hadn’t taken long for the two of them to fall back into the passionate and competitive, also quite stubborn, nature of their games.

“Fuck you…” He breathed, sending his lover a dagger of a glare. The man crawled off the bed at this moment, sliding down to the ground on his knees. He didn’t wait for the other man to reposition, but instead chose to grab both legs and tug him closer to the edge of the bed. 

The blonde licked his lips, a glimpse of his contract seal showing as he did so, leaning in now to place his lover’s member in his own mouth. Things like this held double-meaning for him, only ever soiling his seal for the other man. He and Jean’s love life was still a mystery to both; Alois lived in a daze then, and feeling alive at all came at a price. One thing could be said about it, however - Alois never allowed anyone else to touch his tongue in such a way. 

He worked the other to a fever pitch, he himself getting lost as well. Lesson one, he thought, one of many from here on out. The idea that the other was still engaged made him smile, knowing that he was able to prove his own worth on his knees.

A surprised gasp left him as he was pulled, moving to sit up on his elbows to watch Alois sink down to the ground before him. A pretty sight, he thought, though the devilish smirk on his face was quickly wiped away as soon as he felt his mouth on him. His right hand immediately went to the blond’s hair, gripping tightly as his left hand twisted itself in the sheets. His head, suddenly heavy, fell back against the mattress, a whimpering moan pouring from his lips.

Before his eyes, the other man could see his stomach muscles twitching and his chest heaving with heavy breaths as his mind frantically tried to make sense of this long forgotten feeling. Fingers and toes curled, back arched, eyes shut tightly as he felt his member engulfed in wet warmth.

His goal pleasure, the blonde bobbed his head dutifully, lost in the motion. He could feel his lover grow harder and hotter on the walls of his cheeks, a forgotten feeling and one long-missed. Ciel’s moans were a welcome melody to his ears, hands grabbing the other’s legs tightly; he had to be careful not to leave any bruises though he would delve great pleasure from doing so. 

He wished nothing more than to provide pleasure, despite only ever being good at receiving it. It was bliss to see the other’s edges soften right in front of his eyes, his breath quickening and his reaction exactly what he wanted out of the other. The taste of skin and the heat of the room were but a backdrop to their worlds entwining for a night - hopefully, there would be many more.

The two continued without words, only the sounds of whines and moans singing in their ears. Opening his eyes after holding them so tightly shut, Ciel felt as though he were seeing stars. He felt as though he could cry. Eight years of loneliness, eight years of being completely touch starved and wishing everyday so ashamedly that it was Alois’ cheek he were kissing instead of Lizzie’s.

His legs suddenly curled up around Alois’ head, unknowingly squeezing him between them as he felt hot pleasure pooling deep within him. It couldn’t end now, he had to last longer than this. He wished he could last hours doing this, all night if he were able. Gripping the blond’s hair tighter than he meant to, he pulled, lifting Alois’ head from his groin before he fell over the edge.

And what a sight he was. Pink and flushed and sweating and completely out of breath, barely able to hold himself up balancing on one elbow dug into the mattress. Ciel stared into nothing, eyes half lidded and pupils larger than moons, a bit embarrassed at how quickly Alois had gotten a rise out of him, but also trying to come down off of his overwhelming high.

The high was like a drug, a quick and fast hit now and then to stay satisfied. Alois felt like an addict, seeking his next hit from every hallway and dark room until he could come home and get high on his own supply. To compare it, Jean had been like a weak supply, a watered-down opiate that kept him alive but did naught much else. Ciel was the cleanest form of it, one hit could make him lose his mind. 

The contact turned his entire face bright pink and his whole body hot as the fire they stood in front of earlier. He was briefly thankful that his butler had worn him down already, stripped him emotionally so he could feel his lover piece him back together, breath by breath; pure opium poppies to soothe him. The blonde felt dizzy and lightheaded as his hair was grasped, crawling back on top of his love. What a sight that man beneath him was. 

Ciel had grown into a remarkable man, chiseled chest as if by the gods themselves. He took a pause to look him over, messy and unseamed. This was a sight he could behold for hours upon hours, the moonlight through the slightly drawn curtain dancing on them both. Leaning down on his own elbow, he placed a soft kiss on his lover’s cheek, a sweet gesture unusual for the Earl. 

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbled, brushing hair from the other man’s face with his free hand. “All I ever wanted.. right here.”

It was painfully poetic, how the two Earl’s saw each other in exactly the same way, particularly in this very moment. Flushed pink, out of breath and sweat beading up on their foreheads; surely the most beautiful sight they had seen in a long time.

Catching his breath, Ciel looked Alois in the eyes upon hearing his words, his heart clenching. Beautiful, the voice repeated in his mind. It was in moments like these that Ciel struggled to find words, too caught up in the act to think properly, as if he never learned to speak in the first place. He did what he could only think of doing then, and wrapped his arms tightly around Alois and pulled him in close, capturing his lips yet again in a deep kiss. His legs lifted, locking ankles around Alois’ hips, and he trailed one hand back down to his lover’s member, wasting no time in stroking him eagerly. Ciel wanted to capture every one of his moans and breathless gasps.

He needed him. He wanted him. He wanted just as much for it to happen as he wanted the scene to last for hours. “Please..” he whined in the kiss, nearly desperate enough to begin begging. “Alois, please..”

Allowing a heavy breath to pass his lips upon the touch of the other, he closed his eyes in desire. His hot breath released onto his lover’s face, relaxing into a soft smile. Alois opened his eyes to fix his gaze on his face, taking in every sweet second they had right now. 

“Take me however you wish.” He stated, weak and low. “You’re the one who’s been waiting without a placeholder. So… show me what you fantasized about.” His statement dripped with desire and longing, his thoughts still partially distant but his body and world contained in this room. He wondered exactly what the other wanted to see from him, nothing but a circus clown when it came to the other man. Alois knew in that moment, he’d do absolutely anything if it made the love of his life feel some kind of freedom from all the responsibility they both held, knowing none of those fantasies were for the consumption of his betrothed.

With his hand still working diligently, stroking his lover ever so intently, his face froze as he stared up at the other, looking so deeply into his sea blue eyes he thought he might be falling in.

What had he fantasized about? Eight years had passed and Ciel spent every one of those days trying desperately to forget Alois; his scent, his body, the feeling of his skin against his own. When they were young, they spent nights like these experimenting, learning about each other’s bodies and their own; what felt good and what felt right. In fact, thinking about it now, they had probably used almost every surface in this room for sinning. Ciel’s face turned an even darker red at the thought, those memories resurfacing.

But ultimately, he knew what he wanted. “This..” he breathed, bringing both of his hands up to Alois’ cheeks to hold him and stroke his thumbs across his skin. “Like this.. I want to see your face..” Saying it this way made it sound romantic, and while of course it was, a part of Ciel also wanted so desperately to watch the other’s face contort with pleasure as they neared the end of this. That was admittedly his favorite part. “Take me this way..”

He nodded softly, breath catching in his throat at every stroke. Fuck, jean wishes he could. Alois had only ever loved one other like this- his butler never returning the favor, every other man in his bed only ever filling the space. He had nearly forgotten what love really felt like; the passion of such a love never quite matching up. 

He rolled himself over, taking his lover with him since they were locked in such a manner. The man splayed himself out beneath him, giving himself up to the moment. “All of me is yours,” he purred, leaving himself on display for the other alone. His pale skin was hot as a stovetop, arching towards the other in desire. 

It has always belonged to the other man, he thought. No matter what he tried to do to move on, none of it had worked. He knew now that this was due to the fact that having sold their souls, their bodies were forever bound by the lack. They were a match made directly in hell itself, the fires of which came through their bodies when they were alone.

A moment passed as Ciel regained his balance from being flipped over, now hovering over the other young man with his hands against the mattress on either side of his head. He forgot how this felt, being in control. A rush of confidence sparked through him, sitting up straight to look down at Alois, a calm but devious look in his eyes.

Ciel slowly ran his fingertips under Alois’ jaw, placing his first two fingers against his lips. “Open.“ He commanded, slipping his two fingers into the other’s mouth and against his tongue, coating them in slick saliva. “I forgot how lovely you look like this..” He teased, grinning as he pressed his fingers down against the pad of Alois’ tongue, admiring the seal that was barely visible.

Alois heeded the command, parting his lips eagerly. The seal of his contract appeared as if a latent burn mark, branded but inactive as ever as he waited for his lover to defile it. The act was one of disrespect, wanting his mouth to be used to the fullest extent to coat the mark. The man smiled slightly, wanting nothing more than to be used. 

While he always stayed on top in the past, he felt comfortable letting himself loose only with his love. It had been years since they’d been together, years more since he’d been used last like this. While some memories still burned of the old man and his torture, Ciel would be the only one who could take those memories and light them ablaze. Nights such as these served as his only form of therapy, twisting his old memories into new ones and taking their place.

While distracting Alois with his fingers in his mouth, Ciel thought deeply about how he should go about being in this new position of control. He hadn’t done it like this before, and was wracking his brain for memories of things Alois had done to him. This was the perfect opportunity to give his lover a taste of his own medicine.

And suddenly, he had a wonderful idea. He stifled a small laugh, sneering as he removed his now soaked fingers from Alois’ mouth. In what looked like one swift movement from Alois’ love drunk point of view, Ciel scooched down the bed, lifting each of Alois’ legs over his shoulders and pulling him close by his thighs. “Relax for me, love,” he cooed, pressing an eager digit to his lover’s entrance. Remembering the initial discomfort he usually felt during this, he made sure to stimulate him in other ways, squeezing the other’s thigh with his free hand and licking gently at his member. He kept his gaze locked firmly on Alois’ face, studying him for any hint of pain or pleasure as he slowly massaged his finger inside of him, deeper and deeper until he reached his second knuckle.

With a sharp gasp, the man pressed into it, growing dizzy. While painful, no one else ever took so much care with his body. It hurt, but in the best kind of way; pain morphed into pleasure, heat growing in his abdomen. Letting out a soft moan, Alois closed his eyes tightly, breathing through any of the remaining pain. 

The man wanted to lose complete control underneath the other, relaxing as his fingers tied knots of the silken sheets and sweat beading on his chest. Drunk on love was a look that suited him flawlessly, arching his back into it and giving himself up to the mercy of the moment. He grew harder, heartbeats siphoning blood to the region and heard through the silence now only they punctured. 

“F…. fucking hell…”

Watching him carefully through his eyelashes, Ciel left wet kisses along his inner thighs, stopping to bite lightly at the skin. Hearing the other’s comment he couldn’t help but grin, sensing another opportunity for cockiness. “Don’t be so sensitive with me now..” he teased, remembering every time their positions had been switched, with Alois purring in his ear about how sensitive and tightly wound he could be.

Careful not to move too quickly, Ciel massaged in a second finger, this one sliding in a bit easier than the first, He curled them together, gently beginning to move them in and out of the other’s entrance. His free hand ran up, up his thigh and up the side of his torso, eventually finding his hand and interlocking their fingers tightly. “I’m never this quiet,” he smirked, pushing his fingers in just a bit deeper. “Let me hear you..”

Neither am I, he thought, not when I’m faking. That was just it, wasn’t it though. This time, Alois was actually embarrassed by how desperate he’d gotten for this brat. While familiar with the feeling, he wasn’t used to his heartbeat quickening this much, the heat in his stomach growing so much. Everything without him had just been a release, and only satisfied when he could block out Jean’s body. Thank god their faces were similar, but their personalities held different appeal. The man inside him now, for example, was one he loved. 

With another thrust, he was driven close to the edge. A louder moan escaped him, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. Sticky-sweet bliss coursed through his whole body, feeling as though he had been dipped into syrup with how lost in paradise he was becoming. His fingers tightened into the sheets, pulling them off the other side of the bed as he allowed another moan to escape.

“You make such pretty noises..” He hummed, sucking a dark bruise into the inside of Alois’ thigh. He continued twisting and thrusting his fingers into him, curling them and trying to ensure he was relaxed. It wouldn’t be pleasing for either of them if it wasn’t.

Planting a quick kiss on his thigh, Ciel gently removed his fingers, sitting himself up and pulling Alois’ legs around his hips, securing them there. His chest rose and fell as he took deep breaths, trying to push aside the nervousness he felt in this moment. A final look at the blond’s face caused him to relax completely, feeling the heat between their bodies grow hotter. He swallowed hard, leaning in to kiss his lover passionately.

Pulling away so they were just centimeters apart, Ciel gazed into the eyes of Alois, exhausted and aroused. “Stop me if it hurts..” He whispered softly, remembering how Alois always said something along those lines to him when the positions were switched.

Ciel gently stroked himself a few times, stifling soft moans before pressing the tip of his member to Alois’ entrance, moving as slowly as he could as he began to push inside. A low groan melted from his lips, feeling the tight heat surround his member. It was almost enough to send him over the edge just like this, but he was determined to hold on. Steadier now, he placed his palms over Alois’ locking their fingers together on either side of his head against the mattress.

Wincing slightly, he exhaled sharply as he felt the other enter. It did hurt, of course, but he could relax into it in a way he hadn’t been able to with his replacement. It had been years however, since he’d done anything like this, and he was tighter than he used to be. Held down by his palms, he struggled to clear the brain fog that made him feel drunk. 

Eyes watering at the remnants of pain, he let himself ease into the pleasure. The heat in his abdomen grew, placing him right on the edge of the cliff. The man moaned repeatedly at every thrust, leaving his mouth open so as not to worry about it as much as he was prior. The room grew louder and hotter and he felt himself edging so close to release, fingers holding tightly through the other’s. 

After only minutes, Alois felt the pressure burst, arching back into the bed in ever-fleeting bliss. The moment made him feel lightheaded, all the blood rushing to the area and leaving him a succulent mess. Embarrassed, he released his fingers to wind tightly together behind his lover’s back. “Fuck you…” He sighed, an echoing release rocking his body again.

Upon feeling his body relax, Ciel picked up his pace a bit, thrusting rhythmically into his lover. Soft gasps and low groans tumbled from his lips, his brows furrowing as sweat beaded along his rosy forehead.

Only minutes later did the rhythm he found begin to fumble, his thrusts becoming less precise and more desperate. He leaned over Alois’ body, gripping the sheets above his head as the other wrapped tightly around his back. The knot in his lower abdomen pulled, tighter and tighter until the rope snapped, forcing his blissful release inside of Alois. He shuddered, his hips still slowly rocking as he rode out his high, looking down at the mess Alois had left all over his lower stomach.

Ciel barely had any energy left, his muscles quivering slightly as he rested on top of the other man, yet to pull out. He chuckled softly at Alois’ feisty words, peppering the side of his face and neck with soft kisses. “You loved it..” Ciel hummed into his ear.

After taking a few deep breaths, Ciel moved to pull out, both of them flinching a bit as he did so, followed by a relaxed sigh. He knew they had cleaning up to do, but he decided it could wait a few more minutes. The power high he had felt was dying down now as he curled up against Alois’ side, resting his head on his lover’s chest and listening to his heart. It felt as though a part of him had been fulfilled, like an incomplete puzzle finally placing the last puzzle piece after years of being incomplete. Alois Trancy was his missing puzzle piece.

“Mm…” Alois hummed ,closing his eyes and holding his lover close. “Irrelevant.” He teased, looking over. He poked one finger into Ciel’s red hot cheek, causing the other man’s face to shrink for a moment. The expression made him chuckle lightly, all tension gone between the two. It was a childish gesture, calling back to the years they spent apart and tying the time together. It was as if they’d never been apart to being with, the shedded years as irrelevant as the comment.

The taller man turned his head, nuzzling into Ciel’s neck. “I just want you to know,” he began softly, “you have no one to compete with.” 

He wondered just how much his past affair bugged the other man, though he hoped not at all. Jean had looked nearly the same, spoke the same, and shared most mannerisms. Yet, he held the knowledge to be true that the comparison was never truly there. Nights were desperate in a different way, as if he had to prove himself time and time again. Both men had grown up beside Alois, but Alois had never grown out of London, rather leaving a piece of himself here that he was able to gain back in these sickly sweet nothings.

Ciel closed his eyes, nuzzling deeper into the embrace and wrapping his arms around Alois. He wrapped a strand of blond hair around his finger, twisting it gently.

The sudden confession took him by surprise, his eyes opening although he didn’t move. He was surprisingly not angry or hurt in the slightest. The two of them were not only living under different circumstances, one of them actively engaged and the other free to do as he pleased, but they also handled their pain quite differently. Ciel tended to shrink away from the world and wallow in silence, muting any emotion he felt until it passed. Alois would act out in a number of ways, grabbing onto anything he could to chase a new feeling that would distract him from the pain.

“I know..” he whispered, lifting his head to look at Alois, still playing with his hair. “I do, I know..”

The two Earls shared that moment, looking into each other’s eyes and reaching a silent understanding that they would be okay, that the past didn’t matter and whatever happened in the last eight years wasn’t something they could change. They laid there awhile longer, snuggling close and sharing the occasional kiss, before eventually rising from the bed to clean one another. Ciel felt both pride and pity at the sight of Alois struggling to sit up, hiding a snicker as he helped clean him up.

Their bodies cooled down, no longer out of breath and coated in a layer of sweat. They pulled the silky covers over themselves, resting their heads comfortably in the folds of the pillows, still clinging to one another as if they feared the other would disappear before morning.

Tied together, all worries dissipated in the fog of the London night. They were finally alone, even if it were for only a night or two here and there. As grown men, they knew they were both on borrowed time even more so than as teens. Any moment outside this manor or this room could endanger either one, and yet they were perfectly calm. Falling asleep now, the blonde was sure to hide in his lover’s chest, letting darkness cover him completely. Pain from long ago didn’t touch him here, sewing up the lost edges of their love story.

[sohin-ace]

Ceasar - Different Joestar

This is cross-posted from Wattpad and available on AO3. This is an old work, the writing has improved ever since.

Enjoy~

Life sure was hustly as a Joestar.

You were Joseph's sister. You both were raised by your grandmother Erina Pendleton Joestar. Joseph and you got along very well, even with your differing personalities.

You both loved to joke around and play, but you were much calmer, more careful, and thoughtful than the guy. On the other hand, he was more spontaneous, cunning and bolder than you.

You two were hamon users and this ability brought trouble to you as you got implied with the vampire Straizo and the Pillar man Santana. Things were about to go even further down, but you didn't know that.

You siblings were sent to Italy to meet the Zeppeli descendant, Ceasar.

At first Joseph wanted you to stay back in the U.S as he obviously didn't want to put you in even more danger, but eventually Speedwagon convinced him to let you accompagny them. After all, you could fend for yourself and Joseph definitely needed some of his sister's brain as his own often betrayed him.

You were currently walking the sunny streets of Italy, arms linked with the good old Speedwagon.

Speedwagon was a nice gentleman who treated you and Joseph like his own children. Even if Joseph could be blunt and rowdy sometimes, you showed love to the man for both you and your brother. And Speedwagon noticed that. You felt nothing but sheer gratitude and respect towards the old man.

You helped him walk to the plaza and decided to bring him to a bench to rest.

"Please sit down Mr. Speedwagon. I'll search for Ceasar, just tell me what he looks like."

"You are too nice, Y/N, I wish Joseph was a bit more like you." He sat down and you took his cane and put it aside. "But it's okay, your brother should be here any moment now."

Unbeknownst to you, said blonde man was looking at you both from the fountain that happened to be just next to the bench where you two were. He watched you as you cared for the old gentleman that he instantly recognized.

He couldn't help but think how beautiful you were, shaken by how exotic your hair and eyes looked, how smooth your features were, and how graceful your curves appeared.

His expression softened when he saw you take a water bottle out of your purse, opened it and gave it to Speedwagon. How considerate, it was indeed a warm day and the Italian sun was strong in the afternoon.

At the moment, Ceasar couldn't look at any other woman than you. It was like you put him under a spell, this never happened to him before. Something about you charmed him. It was not just your looks, it was something else. He was intrigued and had to figure it out.

You completely made him forget about that one woman he was currently courting.

"Ceasar? What's the matter?" the girl asked, almost hurt that his attention was stolen from her.

The blond nicely told her a cliché romantic line to make her go back to her love-struck state and she completely fell for it as she squealed, hearts in her eyes.

Not shaking you from his thoughts, he decided that he would check up on you, but when he glanced your way, you were already gone. Leaving Speedwagon who was soon talking to a tall brown haired male.

Said male then went up to sit at the fountain, and Ceasar resumed on his flirting session, guessing that man was the so called 'Joestar' Speedwagon told him about.

In circumstances, Joseph and Ceasar met, and were not very happy about one another. Turns out they fought while you were at the opposite side of the plaza, looking for the Italian man.

That night, your brother ranted about his encounter and you listened to him, amused. You couldn't help but be eager to meet that Zeppeli guy and see him for yourself.

The next day, you came to the same plaza, next to the fountain again, hoping to meet with Ceasar. Even if you didn't see him there today, you knew you'd have to meet him eventually since your were bound to train with him and Joseph and come out with a Hamon technique.

You paced close to the fountain, your fingers fumbling with your bottom lip, a habit you had when deep in thought. The green eyed Italian was sat at the fountain again that day and saw you pacing.

He recognized you as the gorgeous girl who cared for Speedwagon and his heart beat quickened. Finally he saw you again, and so soon, too!

On the other hand, you were thinking on how you would recognize the man or make him recognize you, as you still didn't know what he looked like.

"Should I make a Hamon move and see who reacts? No... Any normal person would react to Hamon...But it wouldn't hurt to try..." You muttered to yourself.

"Oh signorina!" You turned to the direction of the voice and approached it's blonde good-looking owner.

"You called me, sir?" you asked politely.

Your voice was just how he expected. Sweet and pleasant. He crushed on you harder by the second.

"Excuse my manners, bella, but you are so beautiful, I had to propose to take a picture of you in front of the fountain. Your shining eyes would put the reflecting water and sun to shame." Your face lit up for a moment, but not for the reasons Ceasar hoped.

"Oh, a picture in front of the fountain! Wonderful idea, I have to take one with my brother and my tutor!" you exclaimed, completely ignoring his compliments.

The blonde's face morphed into a surprised expression. No reaction? Oh you must be one of those dense women, how cute.

He then seized your hand in his huge one and kissed the back of it. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Ceasar Zeppeli. It's a pleasure to meet you, miss...?"

"Ceasar? Oh it's you! I was just looking for you!You can call me Y/N." You smiled brightly at him, taking a hold of his hand with you free one.

He flinched and blushed at the contact. Your hands were so soft and delicate. The way you held him like he was glass, your angelic eye smile, your sweet perfume dancing around him, everything about you sent him reeling.

Just who were you? To make THE ladykiller Ceasar Zeppeli, feel this way?

"Y-you uh... You were looking for me? Have we met?" he stuttered, which was very out of character for him, but he was just so overwhelmed and flustered.

You released the man and sat down next to him before answering. "We haven't. It's about developping my Hamon technique, We- Mr. Speedwagon and I thought you could help."

He looked at you in curiosity, but thought that it made sense that you were so close to Speedwagon if you were a Hamon user. He smiled handsomely at you, regaining his composure.

"You would like me to tutor you? How can I refuse giving special lessons to a beautiful dove like you?" You giggled slightly at his words. He was indeed a flirt, as Joseph had told you.

"Oh, would you give special lessons to beautiful doves like Jojo too?" he clicked his tongue and glared away and you laughed at his reaction.

"Ppfft, you know that man? Isn't he just the worst? No way am I helping him. I am never associating with a Joestar ever!" You flinched. You opened your mouth to speak but he continued.

"From what I can see, the Joestar bloodline is filled with weaklings and cowards. I can't believe Speedwagon is making me do this." He spoke of your family with such hatred you didn't even know where to start.

You decided to not say anything for now, as it would just be weird to tell him you were a part of that family as well.

"I... I see..." You looked away, feeling extremely awkward. Not bearing the tense atmosphere, you decided it was probably time for you to leave.

"Well then... I think I'll go now. Thank you, Ceasar." You stood up but he quickly grabbed your hand, stopping you.

"Wait bella! Already? Did I perhaps scare you?" He asked with concern.

"O-oh no, it's okay, I just... I'll leave you be..."

"I'm sorry, I got carried away. This man just frustates me so much." He paused and grabbed both your hands in his, rubbing them soothingly.

"Ah..." You yet again, glanced awkwardly around, not daring meeting his gaze, which he mistook as shyness and found your mimicks adorable.

"How ungentlemanly of me, to speak so recklessly on our first meeting." you told him that it was fine and he released you. His face suddenly lit up.

"Hey! Let's plan some time to meet again? I'll make it up to you." You looked down at him, tilting your head cutely and smirking to yourself.

You shook your head. "That won't be necessary, Ceasar. We'll definitely meet again soon. Believe me." you tapped on his shoulder, sending a tingly Hamon shockwave down his spine, and swiftly turned around and left.

He swore he could feel his heart melt like warm chocolate in his chest. His breathing was shallow and his face warmed up.

How could you have so much effect on him? How could you act so cute while being so sexy and charming?

That day when he came back, he was met with the obnoxious face of his partner, Joseph.

"Yo! You should see your face. What's wrong playboy? Broke up?"

"Shut up Joestar." He plopped down on the couch next to the brunet. "I met this super hot girl I've had my eyes on, and turns out she's a Hamon user that'll train with us."

Joseph's eyes widened and he leaned forward slightly in curiosity. A girl, that uses hamon, that will be training with them?

"Huh... Do you have her name by any chance?" Joseph asked, a bit unsure.

There was only two possibilites and one of them was already making his blood boil. Either she was a stranger and it was a big coincidence. Or...

"Pfft!" Ceasar scoffed. "Give up if you think you have a chance with her. She's mine." The blonde smirked cockily. "But if you really want to know, her name is Y/N."

Oh shit.

Joseph almost couldn't believe his ears.

"What ??!!" He tensed up, veins appearing on his arms and forehead, he was already fuming.

"Yeah I know, exotic name, fitting for such a fine lady. You should see her, she just knows how to make a man weak-"

"THAT'S MY FUCKING SISTER YOU ASSHOLE!!!" Joseph yanked Ceasar by the collar, violently standing him up. The blonde's expression fell apart.

"She's your... What ???" He grabbed onto Joseph's arm, sweating bullets.

You were Joseph Joestar's sister? That was a piece of detail that you didn't share. How come you never told him your last name? And after he trashed on your family to your face.

He fucked up, and he knew it.

"Uh... I can explain..."

"CEASAR YOU'RE A FUCKING DEAD MAN!!!" Joseph brought his fist up, ready to beat the shit out of his partner.

"What's going on here?" Speedwagon came in just in time before Ceasar's murder could happen, you following close behind him.

The old man was planning to finally introduce you officially to the Italian man, but that was already a failure. The two quarelling men looked at you both and their eyes widened. You instantly ran to your brother to stop him.

"Wait Jojo! What's happening? Are you okay?" Joseph clicked his tongue and harshly threw Ceasar on the couch. He then protectively wrapped his arm around you.

"Don't you fucking dare touch my sister if you care for your nutsacks." He spat, then looked at you. "Y/N, if he does anything to you, tell me got it ?? Don't let him do anything to you!"

"Jojo that's enough! Y/N, do something about your brother, Please!" Speedwagon was overwhelmed by the situation. He should have expected something like this would happen.

You dragged your brother out of the room as he was still trashing under his breath. You discreetly glanced behind you, mouthing an 'I'm sorry!' to Ceasar and winked at him sweetly.

He chuckled a little bit as he watched you go. He felt stupid, but couldn't help falling in love with you.

He changed his mind, you really were a different Joestar.

I pictured old speedwagon like I picture my own grandfather. I wish he lived to me being grown, I would have taken extra care of him, just like Y/N. I'll never forget his blue eyes and I miss him everyday.

[forever-more-never-again]

Scales and Scars (Part Four)

Aizawa-Yamada [Y/n] - Given quirks through experimentation, thus their quirks are ‘Artificial’ and not considered ‘true’ quirks

First Quirk: Shadow Manipulation

Uses: Shadow manipulation allows the user to travel almost like teleportation from shadow to shadow by ‘sensing’ the shadows around the user. User is able to control the shadows and form objects. User can change the density of shadows. user also has excellent night vision.

Drawbacks: User experiences flashes of coldness from the presence of shadows, and if holds onto a shadow for too long will begin to develop frost bite.

a/n: That’s one of your quirks explained but there’s more to come! 

Word Count: 1849

Pairings: Eraserhead(AIzawa) X PresentMic(Hizashi), Reader X Class1A (Will have multiple endings for pairings)

Warnings: violence against robots

Prologue / Part One / Part Two / Part Three

Masterlist

When you stumbled from a shadow cast by a nearby dead robot, you quickly scanned the area.

“Come on…come on…” you muttered anxiously as your eyes tried to find the person that was in danger.

“Help!”

The hoarse cry caught your attention and you immediately began sprinting towards the sound.

Skidding around a corner, way to close to where the Zero Pointer was steadily toppling buildings for your taste, you found him.

A Teen looked to be stuck under a pile of rubble where a building once stood and his quirk seemed to be out of control.

“Dark Shadow! Control yourself!” The black headed avian boy shouted at the strange bird like shadow that was coming from his chest, before buckling over in pain.

You ran towards them, silently swearing at the other students who were running away and not helping the injured boy.

Upon reaching where the boy was stuck, you smiled calmly at him, despite your heart racing as you heard the machinery of the Zero Pointer growing louder and louder.

“Hi, my Name’s [Y/n]. I’m going to help you get out of here, okay?”

You thought the teenager would be glad if someone stopped to help, but instead he just squinted at you in pain and growled out, “Get out of here! I can’t control Dark Shadow!”

Sparing a glance at the bird shadow thing, you saw in wonder that it seemed to have grown larger, it’s piercing yellow eyes gleaming with promises of darkness and pain.

“I’m not scared.” And you weren’t.

The kid seemed to pause as he took in your confidence and then with a grimace, he whispered, “Tokoyami.”

Smiling again, though more strained as you caught the gleam of metal glinting off sun as the Zero Pointer was barely a mile away now.

“Okay Tokoyami. I’m going to need you to trust me. I can’t dig you out fast enough, so I’m going to have to use my quirk. I’m guessing since you called your quirk Dark Shadow, that they are something to do with shadows and that’s why they are getting out of control, right?”

The Avain head teen nodded. 

You looked down to where his legs were pinned and took a deep breath, “Okay. I’m going to get us out of here, whatever happens, don’t let go.”

And before he could ask you what you meant, as the building next to you began falling as the Zero Pointer plowed through it, you grabbed his hand and pulled you both into a shadow and out of danger.

In the split second of traveling from shadows, you could feel the immense power from the dark teen’s quirk as it reigned without any restraints.

The scream of pain from Tokoyami pierced your heart but you made sure to keep ahold of him.

And then you were near the entrance gate and you yanked the kid out of the shadow, his quirk hissing from the bright sunlight and getting absorbed back into the kid’s chest.

You gently helped the kid down to the ground, his legs were pretty bad.

“That was quite the Quirk, [Y/n].” Tokoyami managed to get out between pants.

You managed a short laugh, “Yeah. Yours is pretty powerful too, Tokoyami.”

Before you could say anything else, a familiar voice called out, “Yamada! You can’t just run off like that on me!”

And then Shinso was there, looking more harried than when you left him, a short elderly women following behind him holding a cane shaped like a syringe.

“Yamada?” You heard Tokoyami’s whisper but ignored it in favor of greeting Recovery Girl.

“Hi Obaasan.”

The elderly woman who you regarded as your grandmother after spending countless nights being looked after her as a young kid right after being rescued and adopted, gave you a suffering smile.

“Always getting into trouble Young Yamada. Just like your Pa.”

Shinso gave you a strange look, “Obaasan?”

You grinned sheepishly, not saying anything, and just rubbed the back of your neck as Recovery Girl walked past you and gave a wet kiss to the Avian kid’s legs.

Shinso came up and offered a hand to the kid, who took it and climbed back to his feet.

Turning to you, his eyes shone with confusion, “Is Yamada your given name?”

Shinso’s eyes widened slightly and watched silently as you coughed in sudden embarrassment.

“Uh..yeah…[Y/n] is my first name.”

Shinso choked on a laugh, “He’s been calling you by your first name without realizing it?”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks and you began waving your hands in front of you erratically, as if you could wave off the embarrassment, “No! Wait! It wasn’t like that!”

Tokoyami watched with amused eyes and muttered, just loud enough for you to hear, “What a mad banquet of Darkness.”

At that Shinso completely lost it and began laughing so hard he almost fell over.

Once you managed to calm him down, all three of you realized the test was now over. Walking out of the Battle center, you felt the adrenaline wear off and the bruises and exhaustion settle in.

“Hey guys...let’s exchange numbers so we can let each other know when our letters come in.”

Both boys agreed and soon you were waving goodbye to your two new friends with a smile as you headed to the house, as agreed with your dad’s beforehand, that they would be at the school for a while after the tests ended.

Once home, you wanted to just collapse onto your bed, but knew you needed to take a shower.

Inu greeted you with a loud meows and began his many attempts at trying to trip you by winding around your legs as you got out of the shower and into your room.

“Inu!” You chuckled, reaching down, you hefted the giant black fluff ball in your arms and settled him on your bed as you crawled on it as well and opened your phone.

Future Hero Chat!

17:00 - ForeverTired: Are you guys as sore as I am? I swear I’m in pain in places that pain should never be.

17:05 - Birb: The complexities of the human body never ceases to amaze me as the vessels they are for our meager minds.

17: 08 - ForeverTired: Alright there Socrates. Yamada, you there?

17:10 - YaMad?: Yeah. You guys can call me [Y/n]...I don’t mind and would actually prefer it. Plus Tokoyami already has :)

17:12 - Birb: I should let the void eat me

17:15 - YaMad?: NO! Bad ‘Yami! 

17:19 - ForeverTired: Yami? You are a strange person [Y/n]. You call out Mr. Roboto, you talk to the kid with a villain's quirk, you help me get points, you call Recover Girl your Grandmother and you like being called by your first name.

17:22 - YaMad?: Yeah..haha...I guess I’m just ...Quirky..

17:25 - Birb: That hurt me to read...please never pun again.

17:27 - YaMad?: Aw...you guys know you tolerate me :)

17:30 - ForeverTired: I should have left you in that auditorium when I had the chance…

17:31 - YaMad?: But Ya didn’t!

17:35 - YaMad?: But seriously, if you guys don’t want me to call you Yami or Toshi I won’t…

17:37 - ForeverTired: When did I say I Cared?

17:38 - Birb: Your jokes and sweet manner are the light in the worlds’ darkness.

17:45 - Birb: Plus Fumi thinks you’re cute!

17:47 - ForeverTired: Uhhh…

17:48 - YaMad?: …

17:51 - Birb: I apologize, Dark Shadow took ahold of my phone.

17:53 - YaMad?: Oh! Isn’t Dark Shadow your quirk!? That bird shadow that you were having trouble during the exam?

17:55 - Birb: Yes. Dark Shadow is a living entity within me, and grows stronger and more hostile if exposed to darkness.

17:57 - ForeverTired: That explains so much about you…

18:00 - YaMad?: Toshi! Don’t be rude!

18:02 - Birb: I take it as a compliment [Y/n]. Do not worry.

18:05 - YaMad?: Oh! That reminds me that I never really explained my quirk! I have shadow manipulation! I can control the density of shadows, form them into weapons or anything else really, and I can travel by them, as well as an increase in Night Vision as a perk!

18:10 - Birb: That is a powerful quirk.

18:11 - ForeverTired: …

18:13 - YaMad?: Come on Toshi…

18:16 - ForeverTired: Brainwashing.

18:20 - Birb: Your quirk is quite amazing Shinso. I would assume it would be great for Heroics.

18:26 - ForeverTired: uhh…

18:29 - YaMad?: See! That wasn’t so bad! :) 

18:31 - YaMad?: Oh! My dads are home! I’ll talk to you guys later!

With a smile on your face, you exited the app and stretched your arms as you stood up, scooping up Inu who only meowed in slight irritation at being woken from his spot, you walked into the main room where you could hear your dads.

“This year’s candidates are so good! They make me want to scream!”

“‘Zashi… I will knock you out if you do.”

“Aww! Come on Shou! Don’t be like that! And [Y/n] was ama-”

Your eyebrows pinched together at your Pa’s abrupt cutoff, but rounding the corner told you the reason why.

Sighing, you scratched Inu behind the ears as you caught your dads attentions, “Dad...let Pa out of your gear before he suffocates.”

Hizashi was turning an alarming shade of red.

Grumbling something about ‘idiot loud blonde husbands’, Aizawa retracted his scarf.

Hizashi sucked in a large gasp of air and then dramatically ran to you, leaning on you like he was going to faint, “Can you believe your father!? He just tried to kill me!”

You smirked as you shook off your pa and walked to stand by your Dad, handing him the cat which he immediately put around his neck.

“I would too if you were just about to talk about the entrance exam that just happened and your kid just finished...who is not supposed to know the results until next week.” You quirked a brow.

Hizashi whined, “Traitors. My family is full of traitors.”

You giggled, “Alright Pa. What’s for dinner?”

As your parents began changing and preparing dinner, you took out your phone and sent a quick message to your two new friends…

18:56 - YaMad?: You guys want to meet up tomorrow?

Walking into the kitchen, you watched your dads bicker about what to cook before you interrupted with a cough.

With their attention on you, you suddenly felt nervous and glanced to the side so that you weren’t looking right at them, “Is it okay if I go hang out with friends tomorrow?”

Silence.

Your nerves built up.

And then… “SHOUTA! OUR KID MADE FRIENDS!” A blur of yellow and suddenly you were swept up and smothered in a hug as your eardrums were ringing from your Pa’s Quirk Outburst.

Despite the deathgrip Hizashi had on you, you managed to catch a glimpse of Shouta’s soft smile from where he stood.

FOREVER Taglist:

@sxph-t @mialeelavellan @rainydaysrnevergrey  @platonic-plots @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi @ayyidkeither @queenbbarnes @mythixmagic @chas-z @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger @princess-evans-addict @rororo06 @timelordhunterandmysterysolver

Scales and Scars (BNHA) Taglist:

@multi-fandom-trash-uwu @darkfaethedestroyer @foxinaforestofstars @axolotl-of-evil

[one-without-fear]

You're my favorite human being on the planet. No amount of words will ever express my gratitude and adoration for you, my four letter word. You kiss me like it's your last chance to kiss me, every time. You look at me like no one ever has, and you protect my heart like no one ever could or wanted to. I've dated nothing but users, and women who just never took the time to see me and love me how you do. You complete me in the craziest ways. Every thing I lack, you're there to pick up the slack, which makes us the ultimate team. I knew you were it when I saw you sitting on the floor in a thrift store smelling the books. I knew you were it when you came over to see me and brought me Cane's. I knew you were it when you cried watching me get my finger sawed. Baby, you are the reason fate made me stick around. Some higher power just knew, that you needed me as much as I need you. We have this beautiful, corny ass relationship that I truly believe no one else would understand. I know this isn't at all what we had planned for this random love encounter. We both just expected sushi, and a simple date. Not sitting at the table for 5 hours talking and then driving to my place and talking again for 5 more hours. And two weeks later we're carpooling, getting tangled in the sheets, and planning years of date nights. We haven't been a part for more than a day since and that's pure insanity. Usually by day 3, I'm already sick of this. But not you. I have withdrawals when I don't hear your laugh. When I don't feel your lips pressed against mine. I can't imagine sleeping beside anyone else, or going on random Sonic runs. I guess what I'm trying to say is, D.A.M. I love you. To infinity and beyond. Tale as old as time. Way past the moon and stars. To the 1,000,000,000th power. We have forever babe. Forever and ever. Always.

[rosegardentwilight]

Spiraling Down Chapter 1

A.n.- I can't say how excited I am to write this story. It literally hit me out of nowhere and within two hours this chapter was written. I have a feeling I will love Le Paon in the series ( which we will get her in season two) For those of you who haven't researched her all we know is she will be an ally to Hawk Moth and compared to her HM will look like a nice villain. I wouldn't necessary suggest reading this if you haven't gotten caught up with season two, as I'll probably include some spoilers some places. I have no idea what Le Paon will be like in the series or what her powers will be ( I'm assuming my version of her will be darker than what the show's creators are going for considering it's intended audience) so I'm basing her character off guesses off theories I have read. The only thing about her that's cannon that I'll be using is her Kwami's name, ally to HM, and she's a darker villain ( all of which have been confirmed).

Prologue:

"You may have defeated me this time Ladybug and Chat Noir," his gloved hands gripped tightly in a clenched fist. The butterflies swirling above him in the air feeding off the energy in the room, "But the day will come where I will rise up and it will be you that is in for a surprise when I capture your Miraculouses. I will destroy you." It wasn't fair, he had gotten so close to winning and the second that Ladybug used her Lucky Charm he could feel everything starting to slip away with no ability to stop it. The power that he held over his victims seemed to be deteriorating with every use. But this wouldn't deter him from his mission, he would have Chat's ring and Ladybug's earrings and hold ultimate power within his grasp. It was the only way that he would see his love again.

"You could try boring them to death with your plans, maybe they would surrender just to stop you from talking." The words made the villain freeze on the spot, he didn't recognize the voice and yet someone had made it past his security into his haven. He turned to see a woman clothed in a royal blue dress draped across the one chair that occupied the room. The slit in the fabric inched higher with the position she was sitting in, but she didn't seem to mind. There was a dark blue color that seemed to cover the mysterious purple eyes that now glared at him. On top of her head rested a hat, dark blue and pink in color paired with a small veil masking part of her face. Although impressed of the design itself, Gabriel had more pressing matters.

"How did you get in here?" If it was one thing that he prided himself on was the length of security built into this place, he was sure that no one was sitting in the chair when he entered the room. That meant that she had to slip in when he was distracted with his fight with the heroes.

"Or maybe they would just use the time it took for you to explain everything to defeat you." She pondered out loud pressing her finger to the purple hue of her cheek ignoring his question. His rage grew, it wasn't enough that some woman was able to sneak into his lair, but to disrespect him was another matter; he didn't even accept that from his family, let alone a stranger.

"I won't ask again, how did you get in here?" Each word was pointed like it was daggers rolling off his tongue. Instead she just flipped through the book resting on her lap reading its contents. She was ignoring his questions on purpose trying to get under his skin, and it was working.

"You don't know who you are dealing with," He growled letting his rage stew. Didn't she know that he could call forth a person with an akuma to destroy her, or if it came to it he would be able to defeat her in a fight.

"I know exactly who you are." She answered not once looking up from the book, he caught sight of the superheroes printed on the page. That was the breaking point, she had been in his safe in his home. This was now personal. If she had laid one finger on Adrien's head, he swore she would die the most painful death that was possible.

"I've had enough of this, Code red." The walls suddenly burst open with various weapons pointing directly at her, but she didn't even flinch. He gritted his teeth, how someone from the outside was able to find his lair was beyond his comprehension, but after he took care of the pest, it would not be a mistake that would be repeated. The raven-haired woman got up from the chair that she was lounging in and began to walk towards him despite the fire power that could instantly kill her.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't end you right now." The low growl escaped his lips hands fully clenched, either she hadn't realized that her life laid in his hands or she dared to deny the fact; either way she leaned in her mouth hovering right outside his ear.

"Because I can give you what you desire." The words caused his body to freeze, a chill shot down his spine.

"How could you possibly know what I desired?" He scoffed. It was a game between the two, the one who held up their appearance would be the winner, a silent battle for dominance. The urge to shoot her dead decreased as his curiosity grew with every word that left her lips.

"To bring back your wife," a dark chuckle escaped her throat "it's such a noble pursuit, but you have no idea what those two miraculous are truly capable of." She returned to the bookshelves that lined the wall running her fingers against the spines nonchalantly.

"Who are you?" He demanded slamming his cane on the floor gaining her attention. The Cheshire grin grew as the purple eyes looked up innocently, he was rattled which only meant she gained the upper hand.

"You can call me Le Paon, but the question you should really be asking; what can I do for you?" A deafening silence rang through the room, so she took the opportunity to continue. "Are you tired of losing, doing the same thing every time only to be defeated?"

"What do you have in mind?" She shook her head clicking her tongue.

"Put away your toys," the emphasis on the last word didn't go unnoticed making him grit his teeth. "And we can sit down and have a talk." She draped herself once more in the chair that was at her disposal.

When the security system clicked back into place, her smirk spread. He towered over her figure, but it didn't daunt her, she seemed unfazed or even unimpressed by the man that stood before her.

"I've been watching you for a long time." A single feather was released from her fan that was resting on the table next to her, her fingers began running around the edge. "After a couple years of your constant failure I decided to offer my services." How could he not have felt a presence of another miraculous user, especially if she was keeping an eye on him.

"What's in it for you? No one does anything for free." The women kicked her legs off the arms of the chair and stood, her eyes never wavering from his.

"Don't worry that pretty little head of yours, I do have a tiny request, when the time comes I'll collect." She didn't say another word on the matter of how he would be indebted, causing hesitation. What did he even know about her, besides that she could sneak her way into his highly fortified fortress?

"What makes you so confident that you will defeat Ladybug in battle?" He crossed his arms defensively against his chest; anyone could talk visions of grandeur, but to accomplish such a task she needed to have a plan and so far, she hadn't suggested of having anything of the sort.

"That's your problem Hawk Moth," disappointment dripping from her voice as her fingers barely touched the tip of her plumage in her hand causing it to blacken. "You are thinking too…short term," her smile crept up further. "To crush the pesky bug, you must attack her heart, mind and her very soul. She will succumb to the darkness, just you wait." What she was offering seemed too good to be true, turning the light dark, surely not with the presence of a guardian and her partner in her life.

"What about Chat Noir? How do you propose we deal with him?" In all the battles that were fought, Chat had grown to be just as much of a problem as Ladybug with the way they communicated and worked together. Besides to grant him the wish he would need both miraculous.

"By the time the silly kitten realizes what's happening it will be too late. Once we take out Ladybug he will crumble to his own darkness."

"And how do you propose that this is accomplished?" She hadn't given him any detail to her plan, but the idea that he could take down the thorns that had been in his sides for the longest time was tempting. If he was unaware that Le Paon resided in Paris, it was safe to guess that the superhero duo was in the dark same as him.

"Just...leave that to me, by the time I'm done with her, Ladybug will be begging to give her miraculous to us."

"How do I know that you won't take the two miraculous, only to grant the wish for yourself?" He wasn't going to sweep the topic under the rug, it wasn't the first time that his victims thought they could take the ultimate power from him.

"You don't, but you can't win without me," the air around them was chilled by the tone of her voice, "I guess we'll just have to trust each other, now won't we?" She held out a hand her eyes glowing from the fire that raged inside her. "Do we have a deal?"

"On one condition, at no point harm will come to my son, I don't want him involved in this." Maybe it was the guilt that lived in the shadows within him, but he still loved the boy to some fatherly extent.

"Agreed."

The second he reached out and the two hands connected a colored energy burst from both their miraculous wrapping around their arms before joining right above the handshake. Hawk Moth's mouth fell slightly, he had never experienced or read anything about this kind of thing happening before.

"What's happening?" The purple and blue light disappeared as quickly as it came, and he started wondering if he had just imagined it all.

"Our agreement is now bonded, now if we both keep up our end of the arrangement then everything will be fine. I trust you, think of it as a safe guard." She brushed her hand over the peacock broach resting at her neck. Gabriel was almost worried to ask what would happen if it was broken, but instead he kept his mouth shut.

"What now?"

"Just go and release one of your precious butterflies, I'll take care of the rest." It seemed easy enough, he could already feel the dark energy of someone's anger rising through him. When the akuma had fluttered away through the window he turned back to where Le Paon was standing, she was gone. In return a single feather was left on the chair. He ignored the lurch of uneasiness in his stomach as he detransformed; why did it feel like he just made a deal with the Devil himself?

A.n.- So it begins. This story will probably be darker, but we'll see how it goes. So my updates will probably be once every week ( or two weeks at the latest) simply because I'm trying to write original story to be published and well that comes first. But I will do my best to update on time. Favorite or reblog if you can’t wait for more

-RGT-

[rpchive]

Ninety Second Encounter-- Infinity City

Oz is probably gonna be up there for Worst Dad of the Year awards after this

Upon entering the IT, the group finds that the entire interior has gone dark. The console room still seems to be the same size, but the floor has changed from a mirror to a carpet.

Collin: Well this is... weird.

He creates a small ball of light that floats up a foot or so above his head while Fawkes deploys his flashlights once again. "Hell of a time for the IT to renovate, huh?" alienrabitt: ...Hey, if that's the only weird thing going on, I don't mind it. Daedalus: Somehow I doubt that. Where were you keeping the Wizard of Oz again, night light? Firefly: He was in my room, but now I have no idea where he is...

Rio: Do you think he wound up on the island?

alienrabitt: No way; he'd need to either be alive, or have a body. He wasn't even bound to an object, so he didn't get the boot like we did... Collin: Sounds like we need to check Firefly's room, then. Azreldeh: Shouldn't you be looking for the marble Demo's been complaining about? Collin: Er, maybe so, yeah. Sorry, got stuck on one track there... Karumet: Just be careful; I know he can't do anything when it's so far away from Demo; but knowing the luck you all share, anything's still on the table... Collin: Fingers crossed, I guess. Let's get to Demo's room then. Jay and Zenith head off for Demo's room. Collin, Fawkes, and Daedalus follow after them.

Zenith: How big is the marble we're looking for anyway? The size of a golf ball?

alienrabitt: More like a lime, I guess. Close, but too small. Daedalus: What color is it? Or does it change like a mood ring or some crap like that? alienrabitt: Not so much a mood ring; it's like every other saa-based kleivenn's...whatevers. Changes based on whoever touched it last; though I wasn't really paying attention when I gave it back to her...she acted like it changed for her in her own hands too, though? I didn't think that was possible, but Demo's not exactly normal...

cannocly, they’re referred to as oracles, because of a line in a FOB song

“I'm the oracle in my chest”

Daedalus: I kinda picked up on that when she dragged me out of your boyfriend. alienrabitt: Honestly, I still have no idea how she managed to do that one... Jay opens the door of Demo's room to find little more than a solid wall with a piece of paper attached.

Zenith: Wh-where'd her room go? What's that note?

alienrabitt: ...It says "I already got what I wanted..." Collin: Oh this is bad. The group returns to the console room to find Demo standing on Silky's back, holding the Candy Cane's sharpened end towards the back of her neck as she waits for the group to return. XL and Nydins are standing nearby, equally tense and nervous, while Firefly and Azreldeh seem to be debating the safest way to get Demo away from her.

Demo?: There you are! I was getting tired of waiting for the two of you. Thought you were gonna stand me up or something.

alienrabitt: L-look, don't do anything you're gonna regret... Demo?: Regret? Do I seriously strike you as the kind of person to have regrets? Seriously, it's like you don't even know me or something.

Stepping down, Demo quickly kicks Silky across the floor, knocking Firefly over. Quickly closing the distance between them, Demo rips Jay's heart out and shatters it in front of him as she pulls out her marble. "...Not like that matters; after this, you won't know anything at all."

As the marble absorbs the shards of Jay's heart, Zenith frantically attempts to stop Demo, and Nydins calls out to try and stop them, however her warning remains disregarded as Demo places the marble against Zenith's chest.

"...And if you're anything like him, you probably took that terrible trait of his, didn't you? Not like you could ever stop taking people in anyway. It's the one thing the two of you truly have in common." As Demo takes Zenith as well, the entirety of the IT vanishes around the group; sending all of them hurdling off in various directions as the very fabric of reality itself seems to tear like a film that's off track, leaving their surroundings an ever shifting plane of brilliant reds, greens, and blues. One by one, everyone's view of each other is cut off by pillars of what appear to be a mixture of memories and separate timelines; each one focused on the person trapped inside.

After several moments of falling in uninterrupted solitude, Daedalus finds himself placed alone in a city that is constantly changing it's layout and appearance. From across the "city," Daedalus can hear Demo call out to him:

"Don't bother looking for the others; there's only the three of us left now. Well, four if you include Collin, but if you take too long to find me, he won't be a problem. See, I kind of figured that he'd be about the only person who could reach through to Jay, and I really can't have that, but leaving him somewhere to find me seemed...well, not a good idea. So I'm just straight up going to rip him to pieces. His soul, I mean. It's totally getting shredded. 'Course, I couldn't risk any of those magic users sitting up here to do that kind of thing either; so I'm making Nydins do it. Don't worry, she has no idea what's going on; pretty sure she can't see or hear any of this, actually. Anyway, if you take too long, you're stuck out there, sooo...get walking, pal."

Daedalus: ... Wow. Literally everything fell apart in less than fifteen seconds. That's gotta be some kind of record for you guys. Alright, fuck it, looks like I'm saving that worthless idiot's soul a second time. Time to really give this bad boy a run for its money.

He adjusts the gauntlet on his arm to make sure that it's firmly attached and then points it out in front of him. He activates a sprayer from the underside of the glove which shoots out an orange gel on the ground in front of him. Stepping onto the material, he begins sprinting forward at a drastically increased speed as he continues to spray in front of him, heading off toward the direction of Demo's voice. Switching over to a blue gel, he splatters a decently sized puddle at the end of his trail and launches off of it like a spring pad, hurtling through the air.

Before he hits the ground, he shoots another blotch of blue gel onto the pavement and bounces off of that as well. He repeats the process to make his way around the shifting city, occasionally rolling to a stop on a splatter of the gel which absorbs the impact of his landing so that he can orient himself and continue onward.

can’t believe Daedalus is gonna LARP Splatoon to save everybody’s lives

In the center of the shifting expanse is a building that continues to shift in size and layout, however the upper half remains the same, an amalgamate of neon lights; colorful windows; and walls that are placed nonsensically, barely qualifying as proper rooms. Daedalus glances around at the structure for a minute before finally picking out a spot on the upper half to try and shoot a portal onto. He successfully places a portal on a solid portion of the brilliant building. Daedalus: Nice, half-expected that not to stick, but I'll take it.

He shoots the other portal on a nearby wall and steps through, carefully making his way onto the top of the bizarre structure. Once he has his footing, he starts cautiously making his way around as he looks for a way inside. There seems to be a door on the roof, however it's sunken into the roof rather than protruding, leading into the building more like a cellar door. Daedalus: God, what the hell is with this place anyway? I know we're from the seventies but honestly...

He pulls the door open and heads down inside. "... If I didn't know any better, I'd think M. C. Escher bodyjacked Demo rather than the world's shittiest pseudo-scientist." The interior of the building isn't much better, stairs going both up and down despite being on the uppermost floor; some of them actively moving as wholes or shifting  like escalators. The building seems to get more stable the closer he gets to Demo's location, however, making it easy to tell where she is. Using a combination of portals and gels, Daedalus gradually works his way toward the more stable parts of the building. He raises his voice slightly as he continues talking to himself, seeing if he can get any sort of response from Demo. "At least Aperture's layout was vaguely practical! I mean really, stair elevators? Stairevators? That doesn't even make sense!"

I...guess it makes sense that Daedalus wouldn’t have seen an escalator, but it’s still kinda funny that he doesn’t know what they are

Demo?: "The stairs are moving? I haven't even left this room, honestly; I'm kind of enjoying the view. Well, that and trying to get Zenith to stop talking so much. It won't stop complaining about Jay; ugh; seriously; the guy's dead for sure; I mean, you'd think it'd pick up on that after his body disappeared when I literally broke his heart, but noooooo..." He pauses on the next staircase and looks blankly in the direction of Demo's voice for a second. "... Buddy, you'd better hope you're wrong about that." Demo?: "It was kind of a rush if we're being totally honest; I was a little nervous or something at first, but the sheer concept of finally being whole made it more satisfying. I mean, really, this is all I've ever wanted. Nothing can hurt him; or take him away; he's not bound to anybody anymore; there's no other people in his life that are better than me; I'm just...the only thing that's important. The only thing that he has. Literally keeping him alive...as a part of me. It's the safest he's ever been; and it just feels right."

you know that, since he’s still soulbound to Collin, if you kill him, you kill yourself too, right?

After another moment, Daedalus continues moving deeper into the building with a fortified sense of determination. "Right, well, you can keep being a clingy psychopath for now, but I think it's only fair to warn you that you are seriously screwed the moment I put Collin's soul back in his body." Demo?: "If there's even enough of him left to punish me." Daedalus: You seriously underestimate how damnably resilient he is. Trust me, I know that better than any of you fuckers. Demo?: "Seriously? With a shredded soul? Would he even care? Didn't seem like he was too worried last time he lost it." Daedalus: God, you're insufferable like this, you know that? Daedalus finally comes across the room Demo is in; perfectly stable, and similar in appearance to the room Zenith was made in. Behind her is Nydins, Collin's unconscious body floating a few feet away from her in a large, blue bubble with the grief symbol on it; though the eye is open for once. Nydins makes no attempt to look away from what she is doing. Demo, however, stops watching them to face Daedalus.

Demo?: You got here faster than expected...! I'm impressed. Daedalus rolls his neck and his shoulders for a second before pointing his gauntlet at Demo. "Yeah, well, I learned how to get around pretty well from my twin back in the day. So, are we doing this the easy way or the hard way? I might not have any magical nonsense to drag Oz out of you, but I know someone in here that sure as hell does." Demo?: ...Why are you even bothering to help him? To help any of them? What exactly do you have to prove; that you're redeemable? That you're finally a good guy; that you can finally think and act on your own? What good does it do you to save these people; they can't even punish you if they can't save themselves. Daedalus: I'm not doing this to "prove" anything. I'm not trying to avoid punishment, or get a pat on the back, or whatever other dumb excuses you can come up with. I'm here because of two simple things. The first is that you collapsed the only place I had to stay into some nonexistent space and dumped my ass in some crack-fueled nightmare of an Escher wannabe, so no shit I'm gonna want to find a way out.

The second is that after Demo brought me back here, things felt... different. They felt... real. It was like everything I knew up until then was some sort of manic hallucination. Before, I could only feel jealousy, anger, hatred toward everyone and everything. All that mattered was sabotaging Collin's life and everything that he stood for. Now I look back on all of it and I feel... guilt. Like a lead weight in my chest pulling me down into something I still can't quite understand.

I might not be pushover goodie two-shoes that my twin is, but I'm not letting myself become some mindless rage monster again either. I'm not living a life that I'll despise ever again, and I'll carve a bloody fucking path through anyone that tries to get in the way of that. So, one more time then. Let Collin go, undo whatever the fuck you've done to everyone, and give us back the IT, or things are about to get really. Fucking. Ugly. Demo?: I really don't understand you. I'm not sure why, I just...can't place it in the slightest. You've got nothing holding you back; no obligations; don't you get it? This isn't just the ship; this...this is everything; every reality they see is one I can tear into; one I can pull from, or go to; I can do anything; make anything; I've got eternity in front of me, and the fabric of reality is playdough in my palms!! And all you want is... to go back to how things ought to be? Don't do this to yourself; don't go back to that subpar lifestyle of living in this...nobody's shadow! You can be a god; why settle for less just because it's "the right thing to do?" Daedalus: I'm not settling for anything. I don't want to be a god. I just want to be me. Letting out a sigh, Demo shakes her head. "I can't make you something you aren't. I mean, I very much can, but I was really hoping you'd just be on board with this whole thing out the gate. Suit yourself, pal; just remember-"

A long, sharp, steel rod protrudes from the floor abruptly, impaling Daedalus through the chest.

"-Time means nothing here, and your lives? They're just my playthings. And we're gonna be playing this game for a long, /long/ time, until I get the answer I want."

Demo continually reverses and redoes this for quite some time, not really relenting as much as taking her time to undo it occasionally.

thanks pal

you’re about to experience the wrath of a god

(those are two separate links btw)

As Demo continues to torment Daedalus, Firefly comes crashing through one of the windows, causing her to stop. It is impossible to read Firefly's expression as she rushes Demo, pulling everyone Oz pulled in apart from each other.

Firefly: ...You shouldn't have underestimated me!

With the trio now separated, the chaos that had consumed the various dimensions stops all at once, and reality returns to the way that it was. Zenith pushes themself upright, but can barely support themself. Leaning against the wall of the console room, they look at the shards of Jay's heart, floating several feet away, gray and cold. Demo lies on the floor between them, incapable of moving beyond shifting her view up. Firefly keeps her grip on Oz's raw soul, breathing heavily as she tries to hold back tears.

Firefly: ...He's not gonna wake up like that...! And Jay...he might not even come back! You...I tried so hard to find a way to stop you, or to help you, but...there's no good in you, is there? I was stupid to give you a window like this...I shouldn't have even kept you here...

Oz: But you did. You left me here, and kept the Zenith. You made too many mistakes, you made this happen.

Zenith: ...Sh-she didn't do anything; nobody did anything; nobody but you...you're the only one who wanted to hurt everybody...you're the one who did this... Daedalus staggers to his feet, still clutching his chest with his unarmored hand. He groans as he looks at the others for a moment before focusing back on Oz.    "... P-.... Permission to wipe this asshole off the map?" Azreldeh: Go for it. If you don't, I'll drag him to hell myself. Daedalus: Wonderful.

His eyes suddenly burst into brilliant white flames as he takes one step forward and holds out the gauntlet toward Oz. A shockwave starts forming in the palm as flames burst to life along his arm and coalesce around the charge. A blazing ring of fire suddenly appears on the ceiling directly above Oz and several spears of searing hot fire spike down and pierce through Oz one after the other, knocking Firefly clear. As one last spear plunges through him, Daedalus screams in fury and unleashes a massive blast of flame from the gauntlet. The blast seems to wrap around Oz's form like a snare and twists around him, engulfing him in an overwhelming surge.

The flames dissipate in a sudden gust of air a moment later, leaving absolutely nothing in its wake, not even a char on the carpet.

Daedalus: That's for treating me like a fucking shishkebab, asshole.

As he finishes his sentence, he drops to his knees and then flops gracelessly to the floor, still conscious but groaning in pain. Zenith: Wh-what the...?! You can do stuff like that!?

Clair: L-let's talk about that later...as...terrifying and awesome as it was; d-...Oz...still left a lot in his wake for us to deal with...

Rio: Are...are you gonna be okay after doing something like that? Daedalus: I.... think.... not sure... what I just did... Karumet: ...More questions for later, I guess...

Azreldeh: Nydins; you're the one who messed Collin up like this; you've gotta be the one that can pull him back together.

Nydins: M-me?! I can't! Not like this--!

Azreldeh: Your powers are grief-based, right? They work off the pain and suffering of others? Everyone around you's going through a lot of that, but if that's still not enough...use me. Look back to everyone I wound up sending off; everyone I saved; and you'll find more than you need, I'm sure.

Nydins: B-but won't that hurt you? T-to...to see all that again?

Azreldeh: Collin's basically comatose and Jay might be dead; do you seriously think I care about hurting? C'mon, let's hold hands and do whatever you did with Collin, but...good this tine. Okay?

Still reluctant, Nydins steps over to Azreldeh and takes her hand like she asked. Azreldeh tells her it's not bad, just a little cold, then abruptly goes rigid, even her tail standing on end as she seems to stare straight through the wall and off into space. As this happens, the eye that normally physically appears on Nydins appears in the fire between her horns instead, and a multitude of small, blue, magical circles appear on the floor around Collin, each erupting into a beam of light that forms a pyramid over his body. Extending her free arm, palm forward, Nydins aims at Collin, and yet another beam of light seemingly pierces through the entire IT, connecting all the glowing circles into a symbol before the entire setup vanishes along with the eye in the flames. Exhausted, Nydins releases Azreldeh and staggers aside, and Azreldeh collapses onto her hands and knees, breathing heavily as she curls her tail around herself uncomfortably. Collin suddenly gasps for air before breaking out into a coughing fit. He rolls over onto his side and puts his free hand on the floor in front of him. Simultaneously, the large, dull crystal lying on the floor off to the side of the console room suddenly bursts back to life and is consumed by a ball of light. The shape then stretches out to form a humanoid shape before dissipating, leaving Sanglied behind who then just as quickly falls to one knee, shaking slightly as they hug their arms around themself.

Collin seems to come to his senses first while he slowly starts to push himself up off the floor. His movements are unsteady, but his sheer determination drives him to keep moving.

Collin: J-Jay... Where... is he? I... have to... Zenith: ...Oz made Demo break his heart. I...I don't know if you can fix it...

Karumet: ...If he were dead, he wouldn't have left anything behind. As it stands, he just looks...empty.

Demo: ...I couldn't...hurt him...I didn't...want to do...that....I wanted to...keep him...safe...not...this. Not...this... Daedalus: What the hell are you going on about? Zenith: ...Oz just...did what he did to everybody; he took what Demo wanted and...made it all wrong. She wanted to keep Jay around; so Oz tried to make him a part of us. She wanted Collin out of the picture, so he was gonna kill Collin. She wanted to be alone, so he sent everyone spiraling off into space. She wanted you to help...and he wanted the worst of that. Daedalus: ... I know I just cremated him somehow, but I kinda wish I could do it again. Collin finally pushes himself onto his feet, slowly approaching the floating shards of Jay's heart. His expression is locked in a mask of stunned bewilderment as he tries to push the shards together with his hands. "N-No.... I... H-How do... How am I supposed to fix this?"

Karumet: ...I'm...not sure. It looks like he's just totally empty; no wish; no magic. And there's no way we'd have enough magic to fix him in the state everyone's in right now. The best you could do is try to make the wish that made him again, and hope he regains color. After that, the shards will be able to pull together again, and once you have magic, we can bring him back in full. That's about the only guess I have...it's still better than just...assuming he's gone for good. Collin: I... Alright, I'll...

Still trying to pull the shards together himself, he takes a shaky breath in as he closes his eyes as tight as he can. "... Please... come back... You can't just... It can't end like this..." /Though the shards make no effort to conjoin, there is a moment where they flash a bright green; a bright red; and a deeper shade of green before settling on their proper shade of blue. Collin slowly opens his eyes and seems to relax just slightly when he notices the color change. "Well... It's a start..." Zenith: H-he'll get better eventually...! Hopefully...

Demo: ...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...J-Jay... She begins to choke up as she buries her face in the carpet. Daedalus: This is just one white-hot shitstorm of a day, isn't it... Azreldeh: Dude; you just burned a kid's dad do death in front of them...

Zenith: He...definitely deserved it... Daedalus: Maybe I should feel bad, but I don't. Clair: ...I don't blame you. It...was really a long time coming...at least nobody can let the Operation know where we are now...

Azreldeh: ...You're not handling this well. You're also terrible at hiding how you feel.

Clair: ...There's nothing /to/ feel. I can't feel sorry; or mad; or even guilty. Nothing he caused was because of me; nothing I could've done would've stopped him...I've got nothing to hide, and nothing left to lose. Daedalus: I'll admit, this part's going better than I expected. Azreldeh: Really? Because it looks like big guy's boyfriend just turned into a bunch of glowing rocks; but I'm glad you're having a good time.

Zenith: At least nobody...actually died? Daedalus: I was talking more about- Ugh, nevermind...

Collin: I... guess I'll try to take these back to the room. I'm not sure what else to do with them right now. Silky: I'll just take Demo to XL's room for now too...if anyone's actually hurt, they should go there also; otherwise, we probably just need to lie down for a while or something...

XL: Anything but...whatever the hell all that was. I don't care what you do. If you're hurt; come to me; if not...please, don't.

With that, the pair leaves, taking Demo with them. Sanglied finally steps back onto their feet, but their gaze seems somewhat distracted and distant. "I'm sorry, we... we need some time alone."

They hurry off down the hall to their room.

Daedalus: Well, I'm just gonna... lay here for a bit. Can't really move still, so unless someone wants to drag me along, I'll be here if you need me.

Collin wordlessly scoops the shards of Jay's heart into his hands and gently carries them back to his room. Zenith: Would you, uhh...rather be in your room? Daedalus: Buddy, after taking about umpteen metal rods in the chest, I'm just taking life as it comes.

I think about this line more than I should tbh, lol

Zenith glances at Clair, unsure of what to do in the situation. Sighing, Clair shakes her head and takes a seat on the floor beside Zenith.

Clair: ...How are you handling this?

Zenith: Jay being...broke; or...dad?

Clair: ...Both, I guess.

Zenith: ...I'm not. I just don't wanna cry in front of everybody. They're gonna think I'm a baby or something. Daedalus: I think half of the IT is in tears right about now, so now's the time honestly. I promise not to be snarky about it. Zenith: ...Why didn't you tell me?

Clair: ...Tell you what?

Zenith: ...You...you knew about Alzedeth, but...you still tried to protect them. Why?

Clair: ...Look, I told you I don't hold that against you...I know he can't go back to that, but...it was all I had left of--

Zenith: I never went anywhere; I just...I don't know. I guess I got so caught up in everything, it was hard for me to say who I was.

Clair quietly stares at the floor for a moment before looking over to Zenith. "...If you're lying just to make me feel better, it's not."

Zenith: I'm not lying! When I was...stuck with those guys, I saw a lot of stuff that wasn't mine. I knew how Demo felt about what was happening; I knew Oz was the one doing it; and...somewhere in it all, I think Jay did too. But Oz just...took all this out on me when he made me like this; he knew who I was supposed to be...and so I found out.

Clair: Y-you...you were there for everything he did?

Zenith: ...Yeah. I watched everything. He was there every time he made me take somebody else. He justified it as a funeral since he kept making everyone's friends and stuff forget them.

Clair: This...this is too much. I don't even know where to start, I-...

Zenith: ...Look, you don't...owe me any sorrys or anything. I know you tried to stop him. I know you care.

Unsure of what to say, Clair is the one to burst into tears as she wraps Zenith in a hug; though they seem more confused by the gesture than anything. Daedalus suddenly seems slightly uncomfortable with his current situation and tries moving again, but he barely gets his limbs to budge. He lets a minute or so pass as he tries to will himself to become invisible. Failing that, he finally musters up his courage and uneasily breaks the silence. "Well, uh... At least something good came out of all of this, huh?" Azreldeh: ...I don't think she's gonna stop crying any time soon. You wanna go somewhere else? Daedalus: I don't really want to interrupt your reunion, but uh... I'm feeling a little out of place suddenly, so it might be for the best. For what it's worth though, I'm... well, I'm not sorry for torching the monster, but I do feel a little bad for doing it in front of you guys. Zenith: It's...he deserved it. I guess we were both kind of hoping he'd maybe...get better or something; but instead he just kind of...didn't. This is on us as much as it is Firefly... Daedalus: Oh please, don't give me that crap. There was only one person at fault here, and they're a fine vapor at this point. Zenith: ...Y-yeah...I guess so. Um, Clair; I kinda wanna check on everybody else, could you...let go?

Embarrassed, but still crying, Clair backs off. "S-sorry! I just...I really missed you."

Zenith: Hey, don't worry, alright? I'm not gonna leave you alone. Getting up off the floor, Zenith heads for Collin and Jay's room first.

“hey do you wanna be somewhere else?” *leaves him on the floor*

good job Zenith

The room is almost eerily quiet as Zenith approaches the door. He can practically feel the despair emanating from inside. Zenith debates knocking for a moment before indecisively pulling the door open slightly and sheepishly calling into the room instead: "...You don't have to sit all by yourself..." Collin: ... I know. Still uncomfortable, Zenith steps into the room anyway. "...I know it's not okay, but...he will be. And until he is, you...shouldn't stay like this. You're only gonna feel worse." Jay's shards are floating gently above his side of the bed while Collin sits with his legs pulled up against his chest next to them. He looks at Zenith as he comes in. “I... I just don't want to leave them alone. If this situation gets any worse, he'll..." Zenith: ...Yeah, I know. I don't think it will, though. I...don't really have what it takes to help him entirely after what Oz did, but I could probably pull him together enough to get him out here again? He'd probably still be broken up, but he'd be here... Collin: I don't want to rush this if it's going to hurt him. Zenith: Does it hurt? I thought he'd just forget stuff... Collin: I... Look, it... I just don't want to see him look at me like a stranger. Zenith: ...Then I'll wait here too. You don't deserve to be alone, not after all that... Collin: You don't need to do that. I'll have to leave eventually, I just... don't know what to do with myself right now. Zenith: ...What's there to do? The IT never even stopped moving; Oz is gone; Demo can't even move... Collin: You mean Daedalus? Zenith: No, I mean Demo. When we all showed up, she was lying on the floor the whole time. Silky had to take her to XL's room because she can't move. She could barely even look at you when you started trying to help Jay. Collin: Oh. God, I guess I was so out of it I didn't even notice... Zenith: Do you wanna go check on her? I can watch the shards... Collin: You... don't need to do that. You're right, he'll be fine here. Zenith: I just wanna help you out. Collin: I get that, but just... don't weigh yourself down for my sake. I'm sure there's something else you'd rather do than babysit my boyfriend's... pieces... Zenith:  already had one big conversation with Clair; the only other thing on my list was see if your god friends were okay too. They looked really shaken up when they left... Collin: Yeah, things got pretty bad for both of us there... Anyway, I should go check on Demo like you said. Zenith: Okay; I'll go try to find the gods then. Unless you want the company. Collin: .... Tell you what, I'll go with you to see Sanglied. It feels more personal than just this weird telepathy thing. Zenith: Sounds good to me!

With that, they leave the room again. They head for the gods' room and Collin pauses for a moment as they reach the door. After that, he nods and gently opens the door to their room. Stepping inside, they find themselves inside a room like a small palace. The floors are made of a gleaming marble tile, and the walls are stylized like those of a cathedral. A lifelike mural of a starry night sky is painted in a circular indent in the ceiling. Various bedroom furnishings are set up along the walls, and a large fountain filled with glistening water stands at its center.

Sanglied is sitting on the edge of the fountain with a fairly large goblet in their hand. They finish off its contents and then dunk it back into the fountain to refill it. They look over to the pair and raise their goblet to them in a mute greeting before taking another drink. A little awestruck by the room's contents, Zenith slowly enters before remembering what they've come for. "...Um, y-...are you guys okay? I don't know what exactly happened to you; I'm pretty sure Collin was unconscious from the start of that mess, but Oz didn't target you guys at all..." Sanglied: Didn't have to. I don't know what was happening to Collin's soul, but almost killing him like that almost killed us. Well, "killed".  Our connection to the physical realm was falling apart, and this body of ours was giving out. Everyone started panicking because we knew Collin was in danger but we couldn't do anything about it, and about that time we lost consciousness. After we came to, the The pain and confusion had sent Ezorius into one of her... episodes, so I had to calm her down from that. We were all trying to get up to speed with what had happened, and so I just... got us back here so we could regroup, I guess. Zenith: ...I'm really sorry we couldn't stop him. I can't even begin to imagine what all of you went through while we were stuck together. I mean, I know what he wanted to do; but he didn't; I don't even think he could...well, he could've, but when all of us were holding him back, things...didn't totally work out for him either. Sanglied looks at him from over the rim of their goblet. "... You wanna try being a little less vague?" Zenith: He really was trying to send everybody else everywhere else, but since we didn't want him to do that, everybody just kinda kept falling, surrounded by the infinite possibilities of places they could be... Sanglied: That... doesn't sound much better. Zenith: Hey, if he'd actually sent everybody away, nobody would've been able to stop him! I...still have no idea how Firefly escaped all that; but maybe she'll explain that later. Regardless, I think we were both messing up each other's stuff. You're lucky you couldn't see his poor excuse for a "city." Sanglied: We'll take your word for it. Regardless, Ezzy's okay, and everyone else has calmed down. Mostly. I guess we'd already gotten spoiled by being back here; almost being forced back into the Inbetween was not a fun thing to feel again. Zenith: I understand. The entire experience was uncomfortable for everybody involved; I don't think anybody walked away from this totally unscathed. Azreldeh's trying to be tough by not admitting it, but even she got scared of all that. Collin: Oh shit, is she okay? I'm still a little fuzzy on what was happening in the console room... Zenith: She's fine; she wouldn't be sitting in my shadow watching you right now if she wasn't. Collin: Oh, she's-? Alright, that's good. Zenith quickly apologizes to his shadow before looking back to Collin.

"Seriously though, what about you? I know you're worried about Jay, but, I mean...Oz tried to kill you too." Collin: I... I don't know. Everything had happened so fast. One second I was watching Demo shatter Jay's heart right in front of me, and the next... I think I was drifting in and out of consciousness or something, because everything until I woke back up in the console room is just a mess of voices and colors and pain. It doesn't make any sense. Zenith: ...I had no idea you were even remotely awake during that whole mess. Oz kind of tried to make an entire building out of one of the rooms he used for his weird funeral things; and that's where Daedalus found us. He was making Nydins rip you apart, but I don't know how much she knows either. She looked like she wanted to stay away from things, but Azreldeh told her she was the only one who had a shot at helping you, so she did.

Azreldeh: ...For what it's worth; she really tried to get you back together. I've never had that many flashbacks that realistically so close together in my whole life...but I still don't regret all that stuff. And hey, it helped you get back on your own...foot, I guess; so that's, like, a double plus, right? Like, 200% great. Collin: Well, I appreciate it. I just hope whatever Nydins had to do to you wasn't that bad. Azreldeh: I'm basically from hell; nothing she could've done would've been too much for me to take. Collin: Well, I can't argue with that. So, just to make sure Sanglied, everyone's still okay?

Sanglied: Yeah, we're alright now. I'm probably going to take the fiercest nap in a century after this though. Azreldeh: Just don't oversleep. Sanglied: Does sleeping til the turn of the next year count? Zenith: Uh...yes? Sanglied: Dammit. I'll have to set an alarm...

Collin: Well, I still need to go check up on Demo, so we'll just uh, leave you to it then. Zenith: Just don't sleep through that too! Sanglied: Eh, someone else will get tired of hearing it if I don't.

Collin and Zenith leave the pantheon to their nap and head back down the hall toward XL's room. Collin: So Demo wasn't looking too good after all of that either, huh? Zenith: She couldn't move at all, but she didn't look physically hurt or anything? I guess it just really wore her out or something; which doesn't really surprise me; I'm, uh...a lot to handle. Collin: I suppose so. How are you feeling after all of that, anyway? Zenith: I uhh...watched my dad die...again, I guess? But I'm more guilty that I wound up hurting everybody somehow...I mean, I know it wasn't me doing all that stuff, but I still feel bad that I got used against you guys... Collin: Heh, you can join the club there, honestly. It's happened to a fair chunk of us. The "getting used" thing, not the... dad thing. I am sorry you had to be there for that, even if he was a complete psychopath. Zenith: ...I know he deserved it. Clair and I both quietly hoped he'd...maybe not be like that somehow, but he clearly only ever had one thing in mind at any point in time, and nothing anyone did or said could change that. I kinda didn't want to be wrong, but we both always knew it'd come down to something like that... Collin: There's only so many chances you can give someone, y'know? It's no one's fault but his. Zenith: ...Yeah. I know... Collin: .... I do get how you feel though. I actually had to stop what....used to be my mom myself. I still feel awful about that sometimes, but I know that if I let her continue on, more people would just get hurt. It was the right thing to do, even if it didn't feel right.

the arc of OZ is pretty much just “DECIMATE YOUR PARENTS”

Zenith: ...I...kinda knew about that. I don't know everything Jay did, but I got enough context to understand who was who and why they were where they were. It just wasn't really the kind of thing I figured I should be talking about, so I never brought it up or anything. That must've been a terrible choice to make, though; but at least you got to make it. And you're right; you did do the right thing. Collin: I don't really mind questions if they're brought up at the right time, I guess. It's funny, I don't actually get too many questions about Aperture at all, even from the people who've known me the longest. Anyway, let's see how Demo's holding up. Staying at the back of her room, XL and Silky quietly discuss something with each other while Demo continues to lie on XL's metal bed. Demo makes no effort to look at the door once she hears people enter, though she does quietly acknowledge it. "...Why are you here?" Collin: Well... Jay's gonna be out for a while, and I've already talked with Zenith. You're the only person I haven't really checked in with that got the worst of... all that. Demo: Me? I almost killed you. I almost killed Daedalus too. I thought I'd killed Jay for real until I saw you try to fix him; do you know how that felt? ...No, I don't even need to ask, of course you do; you know everything about Jay; I'm sure he's already waiting for you like some stupid puppy back in your stupid room...don't try to pity me.  I don't deserve it. Collin: Jay's still in fucking pieces back in my room, asshole. I didn't come here to pity you, I came here to see how you were doing because I still care about you, even if you are an absolute ass sometimes. Demo: ...But why? Why do you care about me?  I  know I tried to do the right thing once I came back, but...everything that happened back there still happened because I wanted it to a degree. It wasn't exactly what I wanted; that much is true, but...I still wanted to get rid of everybody. I still wanted to get him alone, even after all this time...I'm barely better than I used to be. Collin: At least you tried to change. That's the difference between you and Oz. He would've kept ruining lives until the end of time if he had it his way, but even if you did have a hand in all of this, you're still not that computer-generated thing that I first met all that time ago. And beside all of that, you've shown that you can care about people other than Jay, and that alone proves that you've already changed from before. Demo: ...I just wish I could've stopped him before he did all that. If you two had actually died, I don't know what I would've done...literally; I don't think there'd be anybody left to help anyone...but somehow, despite almost losing you both, things worked out, and I got stopped before Oz could force me to do something really stupid...I never wanted you dead. Not even before. I just wanted Jay to listen to me...I know, I figured that maybe that kid he's stuck with might've been my other half, but it's not; it can't be. It has to be Jay. Just Jay. But I don't want to be whole at his expense. I don't want to be whole at all if it takes something away from him. Oz didn't get that; or maybe he just didn't care.

now, there is gonna be something substantial to Demo realizing “hey, Jay’s actually my other half” beyond competition, but that’s gonna be some serious slow burn

Collin: Probably the latter, if I'm being honest. He wasn't exactly a font of sympathy. Er, no offense, Zenith. Demo: ...Regardless, I'm just...sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't hold him back; sorry I couldn't stop him; sorry he tried to read me and twisted it into something that worked out for him instead...Firefly wants to blame herself, but this is the third time I couldn't tell somebody no enough and everybody around me got hurt because of it. Collin: If you really want to make it up to everyone, then don't let something like this happen again. And while you're at it, maaaybe try not to mess with Jay anymore? I'm not sure how much more of all this "breaking down and being absorbed by other things" nonsense he can take. Demo: Trust me, if I'd had a choice, I wouldn't have touched him. Collin: Fair enough. I can leave you alone now so you can rest, if you want. Demo: ...Fine by me. Just let me know when Jay's...Jay again. I'm sure he has a lot to say. Collin: I will, I just don't know when that'll be. Demo: Your guess is as good as mine, pal. I have no idea how much that stuff burned him out. I never even tried to take any part of him in; I tried as best as I could to keep us all distinct; but that was about all I could do. Collin: Well, hopefully that was enough. I guess I'll go back and make sure the shards are safe for now. Might take a nap while I'm at it, honestly. I still don't really remember what happened, but I feel like my tank's running at half-past empty at this point. Demo: Probably for the best. Sleep well or whatever. Collin and Zenith take their leave again and head off their separate ways.

the next log is gonna be p much just...solid aftermath from all this, tbh. substantial enough to not be considered filler, but it doesn’t have any Action or anything afaik

[myaekingheart]

66. Something Intriguing Thus Takes Root

               Dusk overtook the sky as Rei ventured home. It felt nice to finally be returning to her own apartment for once, even if the empty apartment across the hall still haunted her. But she didn’t want to think about that right now. She locked Kaminoki and glanced at the sunset, a somber smile touching her lips. It would be another lonely night.

               Kakashi had been so busy lately, and she could tell he was feeling torn. I’m fine, don’t worry about me, she tried to reassure him, but it wasn’t much help. He still felt unresolved on the whole matter. The village needed him, but so did Rei. He hated to see her suffer through her grief alone.

               A dog barked in the distance and Rei pressed her hand to the pouch at her hip. When Kakashi returned from his mission, he insisted she keep the summoning scroll he gave her just in case. He didn’t expect to catch a break any time soon, and he felt safer knowing Pakkun was at her beck and call should she need him. It was the least he could do.

               She wondered where her boyfriend might be now, what he was doing, if he was thinking about her. Her arms ached to feel his touch, her mouth watering for the taste of him. She looked to the stars flickering overheard and whispered, “Please come home, soon.”

               “You’re missing someone” a voice then called; it was a definite statement rather than a question. Rei whipped around, the voice unfamiliar, but found no immediate source. Her hand snapped to the holster on her thigh, fully prepared for a fight. “Stay your weapons, woman. I’m not going to hurt you” he then said, and out of the shadows stepped an old man with a bandage across his eye. He held his arm in some sort of sling and supported his weight upon a cane.

               “Can I help you?” Rei asked, surveying the area. There was no one else in sight, and for a moment it terrified her. ANBU or not, being approached by strange men at nightfall was never welcome. Her mind flashed with a million different ways in which he could abuse her if he tried.

               “You are Rei Natsuki” he said, “granddaughter of Teiko, and a member of the ANBU black ops.” Again, he said this more as a statement rather than a question. “I have heard a great deal about you.”

               Oh, fuck, here we go, she thought to herself. “Listen, if you’re here to berate me for being psycho, I’m afraid I’m out of office and won’t be back until never o’clock” she snapped. She turned to walk away from him, desperate to get out of this encounter as quickly as possible, but then said something that froze her in her tracks.

               “Quite the opposite, actually. I think you’re rather talented, and I want to recruit you” he said. Rei slowly turned back around to face him, cocking a brow in suspicion. “In case you haven’t remembered, I am Danzo Shimura and I am in charge of Root, a subsidiary of the ANBU” he explained. “Lord Third implemented a new training program before we could meet, otherwise I would have approached you sooner. I’ve been keeping a close eye on you, and I believe you are not reaching your full potential under the fifth hokage’s jurisdiction. I would like you to join Root, and work under my command. I think you are much better suited for my line of work.”

               Rei’s heart pounded in her chest. She had, of course, been familiar with Root and heard Danzo’s name tossed around before, but this was an entirely new level. “What makes you so sure I’m a good fit for this?” she asked. She tried to restrain herself from showing her interest.

               A strange smile touched Danzo’s lips as he explained, “The purpose of Root is the total, unhindered protection of Konoha. We work from the shadows in order to keep the ultimate peace and eliminate threats before they become problems. I know of your affinity with the chameleon jutsu—you seem to be rather gifted with invisible work, which is a main tenet of Root. I also know you are much stronger than many give you credit for. I’m well aware you took down a byakugan user when you were only fourteen. Quite impressive, indeed.”

               Rei’s face turned red—she was unaware others had known about that. It wasn’t something she necessarily flaunted. If anything, she actually wished it had never happened. “Well…” she started, then asked, “I thought Root mainly recruited members from a young age. Like a lifelong program. I’m twenty-four, it would too late for me.”

               “Not necessarily” Danzo replied. “I have made exceptions for special cases.” The way he said that made Rei’s skin crawl, and she recoiled a few paces. Danzo followed, closing the distance. “I suggest you think long and hard about what I am offering. I will not do this again. You are wasting your time working under the fifth hokage. You belong in Root—unrestricted. Someplace where you can reach your full potential.

               My full potential. Had she really been limiting herself all these years? She wasn’t entirely sure. “What about my friends and family?” she then asked. As far as she knew, members of Root sacrificed everything.

               “Well, sometimes difficult decisions must be made” Danzo replied. “But would you really be happy staying stagnant the rest of your life? How much are you willing to pay for power?” A shiver ran down Rei’s spine. She chewed her bottom lip and considered his offer. She couldn’t care less for power, personally, and was unsure of whether or not she could stand to sacrifice everything. Grandma Teiko’s words echoed in her ears. You have come too far and worked far too hard to give up everything now. But what if giving up everything meant advancing in her career? Feeling the recognition she had for so long yearned for? “I know what Lady Tsunade has done for you” Danzo then said, “Deferring you from your duties for the sake of grieving. She is not doing this for your wellbeing, like she might have you believe. She is simply afraid of the immense amount of power you now wield. If you were under my command, I would implore you to use that power to its full advantage. You are much stronger than anyone else is allowing you to be. Don’t waste your time on people who are only trying to hold you back, Rei Natsuki.” Danzo shuffled forward and placed a hand on Rei’s shoulder, sending a chill throughout her entire body. Yet in that moment, something inside of her shifted. Danzo’s words began swirling through her brain, adjusting her perception of her entire life. She walked the rest of the way home in a strange, misty haze.

               Rei had already made up her mind by the time Kakashi returned. She cooked a simple dinner for the both of them, but all the whie seemed distant and distracted. If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume she was hiding something from him. As they finished their food, he finally asked, “Is everything okay?”

               “Yeah…everything’s fine” she said, though she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. She took his empty bowl with hers and approached the kitchen sink.

               “You seem quiet” he said. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

               “I’m just tired” she replied. “But, uh…there was one thing that happened.” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to do this. She really shouldn’t say anything. Ideally, she would just fade into oblivion without having to explain anything to anyone. She fully expected to be questioned the moment she revealed her choice.

               Kakashi cocked a brow and shifted to get a better look at her, asking “Oh? What happened? Was it something bad?” He quickly scanned her body, searching for any injuries he may have missed. He couldn’t catch anything. He prayed she hadn’t been hurt in other ways.

               “No” Rei shook her head. She lingered at the kitchen counter, feeling his eyes burning into her back. She didn’t have the strength to meet them. “Actually, it’s really good. Sort of like a promotion type thing.”

               A promotion? Kakashi furrowed his brows in thought. There wasn’t any rank higher than ANBU except for hokage, which he knew she had not reached. Tsunade hadn’t even been in office for a year. And even if that was the case, putting someone of her current mental state in a position of authority was perhaps the stupidest decision. He awaited further explanation, a mild panic growing inside of him.

               “I was approached with an offer a few days ago” Rei explained, “and I think it sounds really good. A Danzo Shimura flagged me down on my way home, said he wanted me to join his faction of the black ops and…and I think I’m going to do it.”

               Almost involuntarily, Kakashi leapt to his feet and shouted, “No!” Rei froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She gripped the edge of the kitchen sink in an effort to quell her anxiety. The abrupt tension was almost palpable. Sighing, Kakashi rubbed his forehead and added hesitantly, “I mean…have you really thought through all of this?”

               “Are you insinuating that I’m being hasty?” she asked, voice sharper than she expected it to be.

               “I’m not trying to insinuate anything” Kakashi replied, “I just don’t think this is a good idea at all.”

               “Well, I do” Rei replied. She turned on the faucet and began rinsing out their bowls. The minute she shut the tap off, she could feel Kakashi looming behind her, his hot breath on the back of her neck.

               “How much do you really know about Danzo and Root?” he asked. “I think if you were aware of the truth, you would have a much different answer.”

               “I know enough” she said. “I know that Lady Tsunade is holding me back from achieving my true potential, and that I’m capable of more than people give me credit for. Root can give me what the ANBU can’t. I belong there.”

               “No, you belong here. With me” Kakashi said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. Rei wiggled in his grasp. “Root isn’t even supposed to exist anymore. If you go through with this, you’ll risk being branded a felon. Root does dirty work. It’s not a respectable place for a kunoichi.”

               “What do you know?” Rei fired back, pushing herself out of his grasp. “This is exactly the kind of shit Danzo was talking about! With everyone limiting me, trying to hold me back! Why can’t you just be happy for me? Why can’t you accept that I’m finally heading in the right direction? This is a good thing, Kakashi! Or are you just scared I might actually become better than you and you want to hold me down?”

               “Rei!” Kakashi snapped, voice stern. There was fury in his eyes. “I’d want nothing more than for you to surpass me, but you have serious delusions about what you’re getting yourself into. Danzo sweet-talked you into believing this was the right path, but it’s not.  Root will strip you down to nothing and force you to kill people who don’t deserve to die. People who have done absolutely nothing wrong. You’ll be forced to sacrifice everything. It’s suicide.”

               The word rang in Rei’s ears like a funeral dirge. Suicide. Suicide. Suicide. She clapped her hands over her ears and groaned, shaking her head. “I don’t want to hear anything else you have to say, Kakashi” she snapped.

               “Why?” he asked. “Because you can’t handle the truth?”

               “No, because I’m tired of you spitting lies!” she shouted back. “There was a time when you were actually supportive of me. I thought you loved me. If you did, you wouldn’t be acting like such an ass right now!”

               “I’m saying these things because I love you” he insisted. “Are you really willing to sell your soul for criminal activity? You’ll never be able to see me or your parents or your grandmother ever again. Our entire future will be thrown out the window. Is that what you really want?”

               “What would you rather I do, then? Kill myself? Because this is the much better option” Rei replied. “At least this way, I can do something worthwhile with my time. And I don’t have to interact with anyone or burden them ever again.”

               This was far too much. Kakashi was beginning to really lose his cool. “I can’t stand here and watch you do this to yourself” he said. “I won’t let you go through with this.”

               “Oh yeah?” she asked. “As if you dictate my every move? You know, I think you seriously underestimate my determination, Kakashi. You put me down when we were kids, told me I could never make it as a ninja, but I did it, didn’t I? This is just the next step. If you’re not going to support me, then that’s fine, but just know I can do this with or without you.”

               What was it going to take to convince her that this was a bad idea? He glanced to the sake on top of her fridge and wondered if she had been drinking before he arrived. No one should ever make big life decisions under the influence. As he gazed back at her, crazed and manic, his heartbeat increased with every passing second. He couldn’t stand to lose her, especially not like this. Their entire future was at stake here. He thought of the ring tucked away in his dresser. He cursed himself for not having it on him now. If he did, he would get down on one knee this instant and ask her to marry him, ask her to spend the rest of her life with him, to put away these stupid ideas and choose him instead. He didn’t want to face another day without her by his side and he refused to watch her waste away in a prison like Root. His hands twitched at his sides, desperate for something, anything, but it became clear to him there was only one thing he could manage in that moment. He surged forward, ripping his mask off, and pressed his lips to hers hard.

               Rei resisted at first, then fell into the kiss slowly but surely. When he finally pulled away, she looked at him dizzy and dreamy, a sadness in her eyes. He pressed his forehead to hers and cupped her cheek. “Don’t do this” he whispered. “Don’t leave. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

               She fought back the tears that were starting to surface, tightening her grip on his forearm. “I can’t…I don’t want to…I mean…there’s nothing else I can do.”

               “You act like this is the only way out” he whispered. “But it’s not…I promise, it’s not. Just please…stay with me. Don’t forget how long you’ve wanted this. Don’t forget all those years you pushed and fought…you just wanted to prove yourself, and now you have. I was stupid to have kept my distance all those years. Now that I have you, I can’t afford to lose you. Not now…not ever.”

               “Please, Kakashi…” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Please, I just…please don’t put me in a cage.”

               Sighing, Kakashi closed his eyes and ran his fingers through her hair, holding her close. “I’m not” he replied, “But I refuse to watch you put yourself in danger like this. Danzo is lying, he’s just trying to get a rise out of you. He wants you to think this is a good idea for his own sake. He’s just going to use you. He’s going to snuff out that will of fire in you…” Here, he pressed a hand to her chest, her heart beating fast beneath his palm. “Don’t let anyone take that fire away.”

               By now, Rei couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. She broke down, falling into his arms, her face buried in his chest. “Why does this have to be so hard…?” she asked through her sobs. “Why can’t I think straight anymore? It’s all messed up…everything is so messed up…”

               “I know…I know” Kakashi whispered, pulling her into him. He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head, inching closer to the bed so they could sit down. “Just please…trust me when I tell you this is not the right choice. Danzo approached me once, too, and tried to convince me to join Root. I saw through his lies and ended up stopping him from killing the third hokage. He’s dangerous, Rei, and I don’t want you anywhere near him. If he ever tries to approach you again…I’ll kill him myself if I have to.”

               Rei buried herself in Kakashi’s embrace, her head beginning to pound. This was too much. Everything was in a haze. Why couldn’t she think clearly? She heard Kakashi’s words, but she couldn’t comprehend them. She felt weak and small and infantile. She was dependent and worthless. She cried herself to sleep in his arms and that night, she did not dream.

[mileheitcity-blog]

Field Trips in Amsterdam

The first week in Amsterdam was filled with field trips around the city.  We made our first stop on June 25 to a Food Forest on the other side of town.  I found the very concept of a Food Forest intriguing.  P Patches and other urban gardens are quite common around many major American cities. Many years ago, during my days with the Boys and Girls Club back in Denver, we did numerous summer activities at one of the local organic gardens in town.  It was quite valuable for the kids, all of whom lived in the heart of one of Denver’s Food Deserts.  The only grocery store in the neighborhood was the Dollar Tree, which had no fresh produce or really any other truly nutritious foods, so these urban gardens were somewhat of a lifeline for these kids.  This Food Forest, though, was an entirely different animal.  Built into an old schoolhouse, the Forest makes use of plants that grow naturally in the Netherlands, instead of intentionally planted like at garden. It’s naturally, and strictly maintained.  A greenhouse takes care of plants that need more heat or sunlight.  All of the pathways at the Forest are natural as well, adding to the natural feel of the entire idea. Everyone who comes to the Food Forest puts in some work as well, which reminded me of Israel’s kibbutzim, or commune farms.  Everyone partakes in the labor there, and all wealth generated at a kibbutz is shared.  After we all spent time learning and working, we got to share some of the mint tea and lemon couscous made with ingredients freshly picked by classmates, a nice cap to an extremely hot and sticky day by Dutch standards.  It was, in a sense, like organized foraging.  This particular concept could work in some American cities to alleviate stresses caused in food deserts, but does require some natural foliage to exist.  Cities like Seattle, Portland, or Minneapolis might be able to make use of mild summers, while cities like Atlanta or Charlotte could make use of a lengthy growing season and abundant flowering plants.  Cities like Phoenix, Denver, or Salt Lake City might struggle without a natural tree canopy, but could still perhaps find other ways to grow food-producing plants that naturally thrive in a more arid environment. While they are not producing for commercial purposes, a concept such as this could do wonders where fresh food is otherwise scarce.

On June 26, we visited the Tropenmuseum, or the Museum of the Tropics.  In the museum’s great hall a curator explained that museum was once a celebration of Dutch colonial riches from Indonesia and Suriname, formerly the Dutch East Indies and Dutch Guyana respectively, but now the museum makes great effort to acknowledge the true colonial legacy of brutality and slavery. The bottom floor of the museum is a temporary exhibition dedicated to the diversity of all peoples entitled “What Makes Us Special”. The exhibit does a great job of displaying differing religions, music, styles of clothing, and the ripple effects of cultural appropriation. The second floor is the beating heart of the museum: permanent exhibitions on Indonesia and Suriname. The exhibit is, compared to other exhibits in the United States, unflinching and uncompromising.  Slavery and exploitation are openly discussed, and the people affected are deeply humanized. For example: they are referred to as “slaves”, but as “enslaved people”, as their condition of servitude does not define them or strip them of their humanity, but instead was forced upon them by others.  The writers and curators do not shy away from clearly stating how an item was received and go to great lengths to acknowledge the people these items came from. I knew very little about the country of Suriname before going to this museum, so that whole section was also quite educational for me.  The Surinamese people went through great struggle to gain and maintain both their freedom from slavery and their independence, and the exhibit does a wonderful job of showing their struggle. The Indonesian exhibit is equally as impressive and respectful towards the Indonesian people.  Their treasures are tactfully displayed with honesty and acknowledgment. The differences in the Asian and American colonial legacies are also highlighted.  This exhibit alone makes the museum worth the entry fee.  I cannot picture a similar museum in the United States, or any other colonial power, being so frank and honest about its own role. It was really quite refreshing. Upstairs from the Surinamese and Indonesian exhibits were two more temporary exhibitions: a highlight of the hajj (the Muslim pilgrimage to Mecca as required by their religion) and of modern Japan.  I found the exhibit on the hajj very powerful and inspiring.  While I’m not Muslim myself, the relationship of pilgrimage, of place, and of spirituality crosses numerous religious boundaries.  For me, I felt the same about my trip to the Western Wall in Jerusalem back in high school.  For others, it might be the Church of the Holy Sepulchre or Varanasi.  The exhibit truly humanizes those who much of the Western World has decided to dehumanize and set aside as an enemy. I learned more about the hajj than I ever knew before, and am definitely inspired to learn more about this tradition.  The exhibit on Modern Japan was fun, but more of an emotional fulfillment than truly educational.  I got to geek out on some of my favorite franchises and movies: Sonic the Hedgehog, Akira, Street Fighter, and many others.  Overall, the museum was a really neat experience: honest, frank, self-aware.  It’s an experience I hope to have in the United States one day.

Our next stop after the Tropenmuseum was the OBA, or the Amsterdam Central Library.  The first thing I noticed when I walked in was how clean, well-used, and integrated into the city the library is.  When we got inside, we were shown some of the details of the place and how the Dutch have made their library so warm and inviting for everyone. The children’s section is set apart from the rest of the library on a sunken floor, allowing extra space for young ones to make a little bit of noise and ruckus.  The kids even have age-appropriate interior decorations, including a large doll house filled with knitted mice, and their own maker space where an art teacher might help them release a little creative energy. Upstairs is even better for the adults: a café on the second floor and a cafeteria with a view on the seventh floor humanizes the patrons somewhat and encourages users to stick around in the library a little while longer, the shelves are easy to navigate and well organized with good signage, books and media are separated onto different floors to avoid confusion, and they have a dedicated spaces for job training for anyone who needs it, Dutch language immersion for ex-pats and refugees, a wide array of periodicals, comfortable seating to both lounge and study, and of course, fast and reliable free WiFi delivered on a one-month free pass for guests. For locals, the WiFi is included with their membership fees.  Unlike libraries in the United States the OBA does charge a yearly membership fee for their services.  At first, as a class we were somewhat taken aback. But seeing the OBA in action it started to make sense. Because each patron has a financial stake, they seem to take better care of the space they occupy. The membership fees also allow them a much larger budget than most American libraries, and they can truly cater to those who pay.  The fees are not cheap at 40 Euro per year, but are still low enough to be affordable for most Amsterdammers.  The membership fee also allows them the flexibility not to charge late fees, which is essentially unheard of in the United States.  In the States, it’s assumed that you won’t bring your materials back on time without the threat of some kind of financial penalty. But at the OBA, the patrons are already buying in, literally, so they feel a stronger responsibility to return their materials on time and in good working order.  They don’t seem to have too much trouble with people keeping materials.  Overall, the effects of true user buy-in are easy to spot in such a place.  The very idea of listening to people who use the library and innovating it in such a way in the States seems far-fetched, but here in Amsterdam they’re miles ahead.  

The next day, on June 27, we visited the Van Gogh Museum.  While I found the exhibition halls themselves somewhat crowded and a little bit underwhelming, their adaptations to accommodate blind and disabled visitors are truly revolutionary. The museum curators do a great job of highlighting the textural elements of Vincent Van Gogh’s work to build tactile three-dimensional models that provide a multi-sensory experience.  A scale model of Van Gogh’s “Bedroom” even comes complete with all of Van Gogh’s favorite accessories like tobacco and absinthe.  The model is identical to his painting, right down to the decorations on the “wall” and the placement of Van Gogh’s clothing.  Blind folks and people with other forms of sensory problems can often find a museum a deeply unwelcome space.  Traditional art museums, in particular, are often the least accessible: everything is completely consumed visually.  Touching the works is usually not only frowned upon but in many cases outright prohibited. Viewers are expected to be quiet and move through galleries with extreme care.  Interactive exhibits are almost completely non-existent.  Access to the space itself is often limited to abled people, or least people who walk without the assistance of a White Cane or a wheelchair.  But this is completely the opposite: they’re bringing an immersive art museum to people who otherwise wouldn’t find the space accessible. Even as a sighted person (with my contacts in of course), I found the entire experience illuminating. If I were indeed blind, I would be ecstatic that there were an art museum I could attend and feel welcome, feel that I could actually interact with the paintings as everyone else can.  They also had a completed tactile experience of Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers” that allowed the user to smell the eponymous flowers Van Gogh so eloquently paints. I do wonder how this might work in North America, as our painters generally use different techniques than Van Gogh, but immersion still might be possible: audio clips and narrations of Roy Liechtenstein’s pop art works for example, or tactile scale models of “American Gothic”. All told, while I found the rest of the museum itself less impressive than the Tropenmuseum, the tactile experience of Van Gogh’s paintings might have been my favorite field trip element so far. 

Our final stop for the week was a walking tour of the Amsterdam Street Art Museum.  This museum makes very inventive use of existing structures and spaces to enhance the displayed artwork. Much to our chagrin as librarians, archivists, and preservationists, we were all stunned that each piece of artwork was going to disappear within five years of its installation. The artists commissioned for this museum put together some truly unique and beautiful work, and they have to do it quite quickly and efficiently.  Their studio is literally the street. The museum coordinators do a great job of integrating their vision directly into the community much of the art serves, as well as digitizing the collection for posterity.  I was definitely struck by the fleeting, mobile, and almost overlooked style of this museum.  If we were not on a tour of each work, I would have merely assumed it was just a popular place for some amazingly detailed graffiti and a few large murals on brick.  The art itself is very well-integrated into the neighborhood: it looks like it belongs there.  Commissioned artists do a really great job of utilizing existing surfaces and locations as part of their art installation: towering brick walls, small concrete cornerstones, unused doorways, utility boxes, even a bike storage bin.  This is easily a concept that could do well in the United States where street art is quite common and local communities are often looking to find ways to prevent people from tagging blank spaces and turning them into eyesores.  I also found the idea of a tour itself to be rather immersive: in order to see the art you had to physically interact with the neighborhood as an organism, you had to walk through the well-worn paths and interact with the people who lived there.  It wasn’t just modern spray paint art in a giant hall, it was literally art on the street.  The museum was not perfect: perhaps a guide map or some signs pointing you in the right direction if you wanted to take a self-guided tour, but overall it was a really cool experience.  The artwork was fantastic.  Also I think our friendly host may have admitted to knowing who Banksy is, or at least he insinuated it when he dropped the name in reference to one of the more prominent artists along our walk.  But that’s a story for another time...

Our first week was a whirlwind of field trips, museums, art, food, and culture.  This is a vibrant city with a lot to offer, and the heritage sector in the States could learn more than a thing or two from the way the Dutch have innovated. Food Forests could feed communities without access to grocery stores or fresh produce.  The public library can do its part to generate more buy-in from users and create a more welcoming and inviting experience for everyone. History museums can finally start reckoning with and addressing the darker side of colonialism and capitalism. Art museums can adapt their space and their works to become a part of a neighborhood and accessible to all.  Truly revolutionary and innovative. 

Next week: eh, who knows, probably more field trips maybe? Maybe some of the smaller differences between the Netherlands and the States? Or day-to-day life in the Netherlands? Maybe a museum tour of the ones I visited on my own? Like I said, who knows, next week’s topic TBA

[appletable80-blog]

Actually, Candy Corn Is Great

Much like the word “moist” and the music of Nickelback, candy corn is a thing that’s cool to hate. In an article titled “Candy Corn Is Garbage,” Deadspin points to “hobos, serial murderers, and Satan” as the only people who like candy corn; The Takeout, also driven to invoke the devil to describe candy in a candy corn debate, calls it “Satan’s earwax”; Buzzfeed, combining two pariahs in one pithy line, lists “the leftover crumbs stuck in Guy Fieri’s goatee” among things that taste better than candy corn.

But here’s the thing: They’re all wrong. The candy corn hate is a baseless charade that denigrates one of America’s oldest sweets. Most of today’s popular candies came about within the past 100 years, born of candy makers at big corporations looking for a new way to make a buck: Snickers emerged in the 1930s from the massive Mars company; M&M’s came around in the 1940s and were essentially just a copy of some other treat described as “chocolate pellets;” Twix was imported from the Brits in 1979.

Candy corn, on the other hand, has been around since the 19th century, its roots firmly planted in American soil. According to oral history, George Renninger first invented candy corn in the 1880s while working at the Philadelphia-based Wunderle Candy Company, where it went by the names “Butter Cream” and “Chicken Corn.” By the turn of the century, the Goelitz Confectionery Company (now known as the Jelly Belly Candy Company) had begun producing the confections on a larger scale, marketing it as “Chicken Feed” in rooster-adorned packaging.

The corn-kernel shape and poultry-centric positioning was no accident. At the time, farmers made up about half of the American labor force, and companies marketed agriculture-themed products all year long. In fact, lots of candy makers were busy creating similar treats in the shapes of other agrarian tokens, like chestnuts, turnips, and clover leaves, according to The Atlantic. What set candy corn apart was its revolutionary tri-color design: those white, yellow, and orange stripes. Done manually, by men pouring heavy buckets of steaming sugary liquid, the labor-intensive coloring process resulted in a visual excitement no other confection could match.

It took a while for Chicken Feed, which was marketed year-round (“The candy all children love to nibble on all year long”!) to become associated with Halloween. But when wartime sugar rations lifted in the 1940s and trick-or-treating began to take off, candy corn’s harvest colors and low cost made it the obvious choice to offer at the door. Goelitz took advantage of this shift, dramatically increasing its October advertising and gradually making candy corn a treat that Americans thought of at Halloween, and only Halloween.

Today, the two major candy corn manufacturers — Jelly Belly and Brach’s Candy — use largely the same recipe Wunderle did back in the day (sugar and corn syrup, fondant, confectioner’s wax, and various other additions, like vanilla flavor or marshmallow creme). The main difference is that the laborious hand-pouring process has been taken over by machines, which means that they can produce a lot of candy corn: According to the National Confectioners’ Association, American companies produce 35 million pounds, or 9 billion kernels, annually.

Vivien Killilea/WireImage

But this prodigious production isn’t met with an equal amount of enthusiasm. A 2013 survey from the NCA showed that only 12 percent of Americans think of candy corn as their favorite treat (and they included “gum and mints” as an option, so the competition wasn’t exactly stiff). Each year, the argument against candy corn seems to spawn a new internet meme, taking on the current reigning one, which extols “serving it directly in the trash, since that’s where it’ll end up anyway.”

With all the candy corn produced, and the apparent universal disdain for it, something doesn’t add up. One of two things is true: either people are lying about their candy corn opinions, or tons of candy corn gets thrown out each year.

Both options are tragic. The first means that people are hiding their love of candy corn out of societally imposed shame, like when I pretended I thought I Feel Pretty was stupid even though I cried through the whole last third (she found beauty within herself!). The second means that pounds of delicious treats are winding up in the garbage. Fortunately, both can be fixed with one simple solution: a nationwide embrace of the true deliciousness of candy corn.

The notion that candy corn tastes bad is a lie. It’s just not true. Though the primary ingredient is sugar, candy corn’s flavor transcends cloying sweetness, becoming something richer and more nuanced: There’s a nuttiness reminiscent of marzipan, hints of warm vanilla, a buttery flavor belied by the fact that candy corn is, as bags proudly proclaim, a fat-free candy.

Then there’s the texture, something a lot of people cite as their grievance with candy corn. During candy corn production, the sugar crystallizes, giving the kernels a short texture: that means they’re not too chewy, and just a bit crumbly, while holding their shape enough to give a good tooth-sink. This short texture resembles ear wax, or a candle (two common comparisons), only insofar as it has a slightly waxy exterior, created by the confectioner’s wax that gives candy corn its cheerful sheen. But regardless, critics should beware the logical extension of dismissing a food because its texture resembles something else: Do we hate mochi because it has the texture of a rubber ball? Do we revile yogurt because it’s the texture of body lotion? Do we recoil at flourless chocolate cake because it shares a texture with human waste? Leave your texture arguments at the door, please. They’re invalid.

Candy corn also has an evocative aspect, like Proust’s madeleine. It’s one of the few foods truly associated with only one time of year (sure, candy canes are just for Christmas, but they taste like any old mint you grabbed from the hostess stand at a restaurant). Because of this, a bite of candy corn conjures this specific seasonal moment: the anticipatory energy of October, the cozy turning inward of mid-fall. A bite of a Butterfinger makes you remember only that you need to buy more floss.

But I’m not here to denigrate other candies. Other candies are great! Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups are the greatest candy ever made, Snickers truly do satisfy, and even tooth-destroying Butterfingers hold a unique place in my heart. My love for candy corn doesn’t make me an antagonist to America’s most popular treats — and the assumption that it would is at the root of America’s abandonment of candy corn, and, dare I say, many other problems we face today: We seem to have forgotten that we can like one thing without hating another.

Candy corn doesn’t need to be your favorite candy, or even in the top three. But, for your own taste buds, for America’s candy history, to rebut societally imposed candy opinions and reject today’s polarization and vitriol, you should enjoy at least a few kernels. Candy corn tastes great. If you think otherwise, your opinion is wrong.

Kate Willsky is a Brooklyn-based writer and candy corn enthusiast whose writing has appeared in Vice, Food52, and Liquor.com, among other publications. Editor: Erin DeJesus

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Source: https://www.eater.com/2018/10/24/18015026/halloween-what-is-candy-corn-pumpkin

[youngerdrgrey]

Queen Sugar 2x03: what do I care for mo(u)rning

recap and response to Queen Sugar 2x03 (written by Anthony Sparks; directed by Aurora Guerrero)

tl;dr Charley and Ralph Angel’s storylines continue to intertwine since they, you know, want the same damn thing through different means, but now they’ve got a parallel in Nova’s latest arc-tivism. Micah still won’t talk to anybody. HollyViolet’s getting to a better place. Empathy keeps families (and the farm) together.

Each time I go to type the title of the episode, I put that u in there. Can’t shake it. Though, this episode is less about mourning specifically and more about the possibility of second chances and the parallels within the lives (and storytelling) for our dear Bordelons. Oh, and lots and lots of mirror reflections. *cue theme*

r.i.p. to the old theme animation, but I really do like the new one. anyways, spoilers below

we open on Hollywood and Violet, just recuperating on strawberries in the sheets of some hotel bed. Now that Hollywood’s back, they’re making up for lost time (as is the narrative, by giving plenty of time to these two throughout their weekend of endless love). Hollywood says, in that first scene of the two of them, “One day away from you is one day too long.”

A sentence he eventually stands by when he opts to leave the rig and head back to St. Jo with her full time. #HollyViolet forever

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back in the 9th, Micah slept over at Nova’s after the community event. He actually gets a bowl of food in front of him, but he backs off from the food the second Nova tries to talk to him.

Nova tells him, “Remaining silent when one must speak, it’s the slow death of freedom. I want you to be free.”

but Micah’s not about to open up right now with anyone, so he goes to change. With Micah out of the way, Charley comes over, and we get the introduction of the main arcs for the three Bordelon siblings.

Nova has a symposium to go to, and she waves her hands free of Charley and Ralph Angel the second she hands over her phone to her sister and literally sits down while they’re talking.

Charley and Ralph Angel are gonna duke it out over Blue’s corner, the beans, the whole we need to focus on our cane since all the farmers are grinding with us, and Ralph Angel literally scoffing back the word “us” since the mill is nothing but Charley’s.

but hey, we’ll start this episode in different spaces and end with them (at least temporarily) in the same one. more on that later.

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first, a quick shoutout to Charley and Micah’s car scene. Beautifully done and perfectly accurate, the shots and the dialogue had me flopping between which character I supported/responded to more. From the teen avoidance of questions to Charley seeking out the info she needs to Micah not trying to be the one who has to say anything about this divorce or what he wants or whatever.

Micah’s actively avoiding conversation and eye contact. But he has these great moments of feigned nonchalance that are framed perfectly with the camera and these little mirror reflection shots.

Look at that. Most of our looks at Micah in this scene are through this smaller reflection to help physicalize how he shrinks himself. He’s trapped in this image he’s portraying. So he’s saying, “He’s good,” in this frame, and he’s asking her, “So you’re divorced now?” and the framing legitimately physicalizes how he makes himself smaller around her right now. 

alternately, we have this one shot of Charley where we just see part of her head through the rearview mirror, which reads to me like a sign of how cerebral she’s trying to be. she’s not trying to lead with her emotions because she knows that’s not what’s going to get anything out of Micah. she’s asking questions, trying to pinpoint whether or not her son actually wants to be with Davis. and it’s not until much later in the episode that she sort of gets out of her head and lets her heart and empathy lead her.

we have the same earrings by the way. or similar. It made me happy.

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Ernest’s handwritten letter rears back its head! Both in Ralph Angel questioning about it with his parole officer (who really plants that seed about the fight for the land). And in Charley’s sentence, later to Ralph Angel, her phrasing of “Daddy left you part of the land.”

+

Charley’s still fighting with Davis in the in betweens. Davis, who answers the door in just a towel and then puts on a jacket but not pants. Davis, who equated Ernest getting to be there for Charley from NOLA with what he wants to do with Micah. Davis, who once again was rightfully told off by Charley.

I’ll have to come back and add in the gif of Charley saying that Davis doesn’t even deserve to be in the same sentence as Ernest Bordelon.

but anyways, her and Davis don’t agree about him needing custody to spend time with his son, but just because they don’t agree, doesn’t mean that she can stop it from happening or should try to force it her way. (!!!! lesson! of! the! episode!) so Charley eventually lets Micah physically stay with Davis and ascend out of a bit of that purgatory the divorce has the family in. But she also tells Davis that she’ll destroy him if he hurts their son again, so baby steps on the Charley Bordelon road to acceptance.

(I also loved getting to hear more about Davis’s backstory through this scene)

+

okay, the parallels in Charley and Ralph Angel and Nova and DuBois in this episode. (quick shoutout to Nova in this episode, just in general, because these looks that she serves at this symposium make me happy)

in short, Nova meets this dude -- Robert DuBois -- at the symposium. He’s this educated, black brother who, in his own words, wants to stop buildings from catching on fire. That’s how he equates his work, whereas Nova is the one saving babies from burning buildings. He’s macro, and apparently we’re not supposed to call Nova micro, but she’s on the day to day instead. They want the same thing. They both want black people and communities of color to be free of the systems of interlocking oppression that The Man represents.

Meanwhile, Charley and Ralph Angel both want to be able to make moves on their own and fulfill the great legacy and dreams of their dear sweet father Ernest. But Ralph Angel wants to do it by being a smart farmer who makes soy beans on an extra part of the land. And Charley wants to do that by taking the power out from under the Landrys and being the first black woman to own and operate a sugar mill.

But both sets of people are on the same journey towards understanding, so first step is the initial conflict.

Nova and DuBois duke it out in a televised panel.

Charley and Ralph Angel argue on the phone, then again in the High Yellow, and even still once the farmers are caught stealing Remy’s cane in the middle of the night.

Then there’s the solo moment to help bring understanding.

Nova and DuBois start off chatting in that coffee shop. He talks macro and finally coming up with a comeback. (I’m actively hoping he turns out to be a good dude for her.)

Charley and Ralph Angel, heated and yelling in the dining area. (I’m yelling at my friends to give Charley a chance to listen, even if she might not.)

And that whole exchange is brilliant, so I’ve got to have it in here.

Charley: Don’t tell me you’re falling for this. I know a sob story when I hear one.

Ralph Angel: And I know what it feels like. To have to look in your kid’s face and say you can’t do right by him. To need help, and can’t even think of where to get it from. It’ll make a man do bad things, Charley, believe that.

Charley: Somebody just came into your land, to your home, in the middle of the night, while your son was sleeping to steal from you and you’re gonna let him, just walk away?

Ralph Angel: I just think sometimes people deserve a second chance.

She tries appealing to the parental part of him, and he takes that in and returns with the outwardly human part of him. The non-Slytherin part of him that says give people a chance to be better rather than acting like they’ll be their worst. Little Slytherin Charley has to grapple with that while Ralph Angel gets to be the one to walk away for once.

But that leads into the good moment of empathy, on both sides.

DuBois reveals that he helped in NOLA after Katrina. He and Nova find that common ground over that experience and over how the national coverage never really did any of that justice. And that moment leads to them swinging hands as they walk down the path together.

Charley wakes up to hear Blue and Ralph Angel playing. Sees the love and the hope and the light that she doesn’t currently have with Micah. Sees the potential future and the strength in her brother who’s been given a second chance at life and at fatherhood. She gets it then -- they’re on the same side and need to fucking act like it for their family.

Then Charley and Rah roll up on the Landrys, as you do. Tell them to stop fucking with the wrong family.

Nova extends an invite for DuBois to visit her in NOLA. And we get to see Charley and Rah come together after Rah takes another step and checks in on Micah. A tender thank you from Charley and a hug between the two of them that’s just so necessary, which leads into this shot.

(as captured by tumblr user, @salandered)

Gosh, this shot. This reminder where we pull out of this intimate moment between Charley and Ralph Angel to see Micah still on the outside of all that warmth (literally bathed in blue, cold colors) and a story all of his own. A nice way to accent the fact that the narrative wants to bring Micah to the foreground and explore his stories outside of just those that were once the core of the narrative (ie. Charley and Ralph Angel).

anyways, I really enjoyed this episode and I’m belatedly wondering where it is that Charley went after dropping Micah off.

[crookedmoonlight123]

The Rain Woman

As promised here is Chapter 5! Chapter 6 will be up in about a week!

The Rain Woman - Chapter 5 - As A Rain Drop Cascades

A/N: Thankyou to everyone who reviewed followed and favourited the last chapter! Its so hard to keep the story going at a steady pace! I really want to rush it as I just find the ideas I have for it so exciting! Anyway, enjoy!

Juvia sat across from her mother awestruck, her pale pink lips slightly parted as hers eyes stared into her mothers.  “He’s…He’s dead… But why?” She gripped the edge of the table feeling the cool wood press into her now sweaty palms.  “And he isn’t, wasn’t Juvias father?” No matter how many times the bluenette said both those sentences, even out loud, it didn’t make them feel them any more real.

Her mother glanced sideways, eyes cast down low.  “After you left, I fell apart, you were my baby girl.” She brought her glistening blue eyes back to Juvias steady ones.  “I was supposed to protect you from all the evils of the world. And in that I failed.”  She reached across the table to cup Juvias hand in her own.  “When you left I struggled to function properly.  I would find myself aimlessly walking around the house looking for you, or watching other kids play in the fields surrounding the house and I’d be crying.  Your step-father I guess he was.  He didn’t like my weak display of emotion.  But when he realised there was nothing he could do to snap me out of my depression, he took his own life.  He hung himself.  It was strange.  It was like we were two strangers living under one roof.  He did realise what a monster he had become though.  When he stumbled upon our old happy photos.  I think that was the turning point for him.  Realising what he had become.”  Juvias mother stared at her daughter waiting for a response.

“Juvia does have vague memories of him being happy… but he was such a angry character Juvia wondered if maybe she had dreamt it.  He always hated Juvia so much and Juvia never understood why, what Juvia did wrong.” Juvia sighed, her eyes feeling hot, she had to remember her mother had been through hell and back aswell.

“He was so charming when we fell in love and when I had you he was overjoyed he had a baby girl.  Until he realised you weren’t his.  It was my fault he hated you Juvia.  But your real father was such a whirlwind romance.” She gave Juvias hand a squeeze.

“How did you meet Juvias real father?” Juvia words were so calmly spoken.  In fact she felt oddly calm like she hadn’t really processed everything yet.

“Well I was on a short vacation on my own, it was sort of a work thing.  I was studying the rare flowers that had been blooming in the warm south climate of Fiore.  The flowers responded so beautifully to my magic blooming bigger and more colourful, but they lacked something.  Then out of the corner of my eye there was a very handsome young man, with the most gorgeous blue hair, darker than an eggshell blue but not quite a sky blue, despite the heat he was wearing a very well fitted pale grey almost white suit, he was fresh shaven and the way he looked at the flowers showed a gentleness I’d never seen before, he treated them so delicately for a man of such a muscular frame, it was like he too could feel the flowers energies.  I couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, so I slowly approached him, tilting my sunhat and nervously fiddling with the hem of my white summer dress which was patterned with navy blue flowers.  As he turned to look at me I thought I recognised his face somewhere, and of course I asked him what he was doing here.  Turns out he too had been asked to examine the plants, he didn’t have any plant magic but  he enjoyed studying them, he was in fact a water mage.  The most powerful water user known, having come from a long line of water mages.  I remembered seeing him featured in a flower magazine for being able to help flowers grow in the most desolate and harshest environments.  We got talking and it was obvious there was some kind of spark between us, or maybe it was just the heat, but before long we had combined our magic and the whole botanical garden was blooming like never before, even the foliage and grass was greener and richer, the bark on the trees was healthy, the flowers were large, colourful, giving off more scent and the water droplets around us were shimmering like a thousand tiny crystals as they caught the sunlight, it was magical to say the least.” Juvias mother eyes were sparkling.  “Of course being caught in the moment meant one thing led to another and you were conceived.   I was torn. I loved your real father but I also loved the man back home.  I had to stay for work for a few months and that’s what I did, getting to know your father along the way and growing slightly suspicious of him too, it wasn’t long before I realised I was pregnant with you when I went to nurse complaining about being sick for over a month, another month passed and it was getting harder to conceal my small bump, I still kept you as my secret and each day I could feel you growing stronger.  One day I peeked into one of your fathers board meetings, he was drowning an older man in his own water magic, I knew there was something off about him despite his loving charms so I fled back home as fast as I could, to the arms of a man I knew, raising you as our own.  He was however always suspicious of your blue hair.  At an unusually early age you were using water magic to change the temperature of the bath, the rain, making columns of water at local ponds scaring all the villagers, your powers were incredible.  Again this caused suspicion, I was a ’plant magic user’ and he had no magic of his own, I tried to brush it off by saying that we have watermages in my family, which was true but he didn’t believe me.  Then he happened to stumble across a photo of me and your father  in my bedside drawer, he saw the same blue hair and the water magic, your father was showing off in the photo, he confronted me and I couldn’t deny it, I told him that it didn’t matter, that he had raised you as his own.  He wouldn’t listen all he could see was red.  All he could see in you was me cheating on him.  That was when it all really started.  The anger and violence.  I tried to get you out the house as much as possible with nursery and other kids groups, but your magic power was stronger than you could handle.  You’d flood bathrooms when you cried, if you got angry you whip up a small tsunami out of a pond.  You couldn’t be near large volumes of water.  The first time you saw him hit me you cried and screamed and the heavens opened.  It didn’t stop raining until the day you rain away.  He said you were cursed.”  

Juvia sat trying to take all the information in.  She was the child of a love affair, and what seemed to be a cruel but charming man.  Another water user.  They were few and far between.  “So where is Juvias real father?” Juvias voice was barely a whisper.

“He doesn’t know you exist.  As far as I know.  Especially with your new name.” Her mother responded just as quietly.  Juvias mind whirred around and around.  Could Juvia have had a better life with a different father?  A water user like her?  One who would’ve understood her powers?  Glancing up at the small antique clock to her left Juvia noted that hours had passed.  It was gone midday.  “What made you return Juvia?” Her mothers voice was full of curiosity.  “And with no more rain, who found your sunshine?” Another question flew into the muddled of words and tangle of emotions in Juvias brain as her brain focused on one word.  

“Gray-sama…” Juvias heart pounded as a wave of nausea washed through her like a flood.  “He took away Juvias rain.”  Juvia glanced out the window into the beaming sunshine causing her to squint.  “Juvia needs some air.” Juvia spoke hurried and she stumbled out the kitchen, down the hallway into the fresh air allowing the coolness of it to calm her thoughts and cool her hot prickly skin.  Before she knew it her feet were pounding their way down the drive on their own, her boots clicking on the tarmac, the smell of asphalt and the surrounding rose bushes filling her nose, she was panicking, all her senses were heightened.  The watermage fumbled for the lacrima crystal in her pocket, finally retrieving it as she tried to get through to the Master.  The little crystal was fuzzing and misty as it tried to connect, Juvia had now wandered into the main street, listening to the sounds of the townspeople laughing and talking, they were probably people she’d met when she was still young, when she had been labelled dangerous.  Finally the smoke cleared in the ball and the Masters face appeared.

“Ah Juvia! I was wondering when I would hear from you.” Juvia heard some commotion behind him.

“Yes Master.  Expect Juvias return no later than this evening.  Juvia has dealt with her family business.” The Master mumbled something as Juvia severed the connection.  As far as she was concerned, she had no need to make contact with her father, he didn’t know she existed after all.  She’d say farewell to her mother and head back to the guild.  This town still left a bad taste in her mouth.

“You came.” A sly voice rang out loudly making Juvia jump, dropping the lacrima crystal out her sweaty palms, Juvia watching as it smashed to the floor in front of her.  Juvia spun around ferociously, unleashing a water cane at the suspicious character behind her hitting her mark.

“STAY AWAY FROM JUVIA!” She shouted at the cloaked man, the same one from before.  “Juvia now knows who her father is.  Juvias mother is fine and now Juvia will return back to the guild.” Juvia spoke her words with desperation readying another attack.

“You need to come with me Juvia Lockser.” He spoke very calmly for some who was just knocked off his feet by a water cane.  “I am under orders to not hurt you.  So I advise you come with me.” He took a defensive stance his face still hidden under his hood.

“Juvia will not.” Juvias eyes turned into slits. “Water lock!” The cloaked figure was engulfed in a dome of cold water.  Only seconds passed before her water lock was broken by an air attack cutting through it like a hot knife through butter.

“You really think they’d send an unequipped mage?” He chuckled.  “If that’s how you want to deal with the situation.  Then on your head be it.” He smirked at her as he pressed something in his pocket.  The adrenaline was still pumping through Juvias body as he disappeared into thin air.  Juvia was reeling even more than before as her blue locks flew about in the wind that had just picked up.  What did he mean ‘then on your head be it’ Juvia wondered as she decided to pursue her previous walk around town to try and calm down.  The village was of a simple lay out, all the shops; the butchers, grocers, bakery, clothes and even a magic shop were all on the main street with a few houses dotted here and there.  The street was made of old uneven cobble stones, making it hard to walk, thank mavis she didn’t wear high heels. As she turned down a few dead end streets she noticed that each house had a small garden out front and a slightly bigger one out back.  Each house was surrounded by a small stone wall adding to the villages overall charm.  Down one dead was a school or nursery, kids were playing in the playground out front, a still pond was set off to one side surrounded by a tall fence with a padlocked gate so no children could accidentally venture in and drown themselves, not even a ripple danced on the surface.  Looking closer at the pond a memory stirred in the back of her mind.  The one that her mother had mentioned about her losing control and creating a mini tsunami.  She couldn’t believe she had done that.  At such a young age.  Juvia had been scared of her magic for such a long time.  She had involuntarily caused suffering by not being able to control it.  Even now she wasn’t sure on its true extent.

As Juvia rejoined the main street, she began to make her way back to her house, as she rounded a corner and the driveway came into view a large explosion snapped Juvias attention upwards, her heartbeat erratic.  It had come from her house.  Pounding the asphalt she tore up the driveway faster than she would have ever imagined possible.  As she neared she saw the front door had been blown off its hinges.  Mother! Please be okay. Juvia thought desperately as she stormed into the house which was in complete disarray.  The soft pink sofas had been flipped upside down and the little coffee table smashed.  Juvia hurried upstairs which appeared to be untouched.  The kitchen. Juvia cursed herself for not checking it earlier.  Sprinting back down the stairs and down the hallway into the kitchen she noticed that half of it where the back door had been was now blown up, her cheeks flushed red in anger as she surveyed the room pots and pans were strewn around the room, the kitchen table split down the middle and what appeared to be blood smeared the floor.  Running into the back garden Juvia froze, her hands covering her mouth at the sight.  She always remembered the care and attention her mother had given her garden, it wasn’t just neat, it was always so colourful and peaceful, it didn’t matter how bad a day you were having her garden always put a smile on your face.  But now, the gardens flowers beds had been torn up, her mothers precious flowers trashed and thrown across the lawn which had huge lumps missing out of it. The potted plants had been smashed to.  Juvia hoped her mother hadn’t had to see her poor garden like this.

“You should’ve come with us when you were asked nicely little water witch.” Someone sneered behind her, Juvias muscles coiled up ready to spring.  A largely built man stood before her, his hair a fiery red, so were his eyes.

“What have you done with Juvias mother!” Juvia shouted at him, her eyes a hard blue, teeth gritted, fists balled at her sides.  “Water lock!” She tried to engulf him in her water lock.  If he wasn’t a wind user then he couldn’t escape.  If he was she would have to switch to plan B.

“Storm mail!” The enemy engulfed himself in wind sending him spinning into the sky.  “Storm shred!” He roared, sending sharp arrows of wind flying into Juvia who screamed in pain as they tore through her clothes and slashed at her skin.

“Waterbody!” She managed to shift to avoid the full force of the attack.  “Reverse water nebula!” She fired two columns of spinning water into the wind user, the columns were spinning the opposite way to the wind slowing him down as she cranked up the power.

“Impossible!” He shouted as she negated his wind defence.

“Water slicer!” Juvia threw razor sharp blades of water at her opponent, relaxing slightly as they hit.

“Rock avalanche.” A cool voice behind her spoke as a shadow engulfed Juvia blocking out the sun.  Juvia looked up a few seconds to late as massive boulders came hurtling towards knocking her unconscious.

A/N: Well I’m ended chapter 5 here! I hope you enjoyed it! I promise you all some Gruvia soon!! Definitely Grays POV for some of next chapter!

Read and review!

CrookedMoonlight.

Unfortunately the italics dont cross over from works word processor, i used to be able to bypass MS Word so i could copy and paste from that as the italics stayed.... apologies for that!

Please leave a review -> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12261807/5/The-Rain-Woman