#times like this I’m glad I believe in divine retribution

[smallandangry24]

AI “art” and reposters: *exist*

The blood lust in my veins being held like a quivering chihuahua full of malice, suppressed only by the voice of the Crimson One:

[tobiomlk]

39 for kageyama if you can ....... please :')

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿. kageyama tobio

𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁. #39 “don’t cry.”

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲. hurt / comfort !!! tobio is no good with tears and i love him

Kageyama knows it’s bad when Suga-senpai confronts him about it.

“So,” he ambushes him during lunch time, around the vending machine (Of course he waits around the vending machine, Kageyama’s favoured spot to get his daily dose of milk). “What happened?”

Kageyama frowns. “About what?”

“You know what I mean.” However, Sugawara smiles, in that nurturing way of his that always makes Kageyama feel a little lighter. And a little troubled as well, because he can’t believe how utterly transparent he could be at times.

Kageyama chooses to direct his glowering towards the vending machine, gaze flickering between a carton of milk or yogurt, a predicament he struggled with each day— but which was considerably easier to deal with, next to the one he currently had at hand, that’s it. He growls when he notices the guilt is dawning upon him, again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sugawa asks, gently as ever, and Kageyama wants to say no, because a part of him does not wants to talk about it. But the other part, the vulnerable, insecure one, seems to be taking over him more often than not these days, and so he decides there’s no harm in speaking to a familiar face.

Far too violently, Kageyama presses both buttons simultaneously and lets the vending machine do the decision for him. “We had a fight,” he says, quietly. 

“So I heard,” Sugawara recognizes, but Kageyama isn’t really phased about it. Suga is, like, everyone’s go-to when it came for a comforting presence. He’s reliable, a good listener, and just as great at offering advice. He’s the type of person with lots of strengths that Kageyama himself lacks, and Kageyama can’t help but envy him, just a tiny bit. “It was that bad?” he probes, and Kageyama purses his lips in a flat line.

To put it truthfully, it wasn’t supposed to be that bad. To put it very frankly, it was incredibly and thoroughly moronic of both of you to have gotten so worked up over such a silly argument. Because that’s what it was; a silly argument, a minor discussion that the two of you blowed out of proportion and allowed to scalate the way it did. Stupid, sensitive teenagers.

“Have you tried talking to them?” Sugarawa asks.

“Yes,” Kageyama replies, but he doesn’t seem precisely happy. “but they don’t wanna talk to me.”

“The cold shoulder, huh?” Sugawara sighs, very much like a father would do. “Well, they can be quite petty, too.”

Kageyama nods in silence, lacking for better words. It frustrates him to no end, to be on such terms with you, to have you completely overlooking his existence. It frustrates him. And he doesn’t even gets to apologize or raise the flag of truce because you won’t even look his way. The mere thought is enough to have him slamming his head into the wall and scream at the top of his lungs.

“What are you planning to do, then?” 

Kageyama stops himself from doing so, though. “What can I do? They’re gonna ignore me anyways.”

“But you don’t want to let things go on like this, do you?”

Kageyama’s frowns deepens (if that’s even possible), but before his brain’s broken wires can sort out a way out of this fucking mess, his focus is taken away by a tiny little drop in his right cheek— followed by another one, and other one—

“Well, no one told me that it would be raining today,” Sugawara says as he looks up, gray clouds gathering above them. “C’mon, let’s get going before we get soaked.”

Kageyama agrees, although half-heartedly. For whatever reason, the light drizzle failing upon them seems to be reminding him of something, but he can’t exactly put his finger as to what it is. He always brings his umbrella, he couldn’t possibly have forgotten it—

Oh.

“Oh, fuck it.”

Powerless, you stand at the entrance of the school as you take in how the harmless rain at the beginning of the day had evolved into a massive downpour. Most of the students proceed to head off under the shelter of their respective umbrellas; shelter you can’t afford because, mind you, you rarely cared enough to bring an umbrella of your own. 

Tobio always shared his with me, after all…

No. Don’t think about Tobio. Don’t think about Tobio and his pouty face and how he always puts up a fight before letting you get away with whatever you want, the space under his umbrella included. Don’t you think about it. You’re supposed to be mad at him, and rightfully so. He was mean (and so were you) and said mean things (and so did you) and you weren’t going to let it slide just like that. You had a pride to keep. Yes. You had one. 

(But what about him?) No, this isn’t about him. This isn’t about him. (He’s probably hurt, too) And that’s on him. He started it all (let’s be real, you kinda were at fault as well) and he’s gotta live with it. (But he tried? To apologize? Several times?) NO. You don’t wanna hear it. You’re mad, reasonably mad, and it’s perfectly warranted. You could be mad for the rest of your life, if you wanted to (but you didn’t). End of the discussion.

The rain comes down steadily. It doesn’t seem like it’s going to stop any time soon. Fuck it. You’re not letting the rain keep you stuck with your inner conflict any longer. You bend forward to make sure your shoes are strongly tied and place your backpack over your head, making the perfect shield. You’re Unstoppable now. No rain is getting into your way.

Ready, steady...

“What are you doing, dumbass?”

Go— Ok, no go.

You’re torn between offering him a snarky reply, scowling at him or simply icing him out, but once you lock eyes with Tobio all you want to do is (redacted). Oh, would you look at that, you brain has already repressed that memory!

“None of your concern,” you end up saying, immediately averting his gaze. Tobio can’t even feel glad about you finally breaking your vow of silence towards him.

“Is that so,” he replies, and you hate how defeated he sounds. How can you be mad at him if he doesn’t make it easy for you?

“Are you heading home?” he tries once again, and you’re definitely not endeared by it.

“Well, I was going to before someone stopped me.” 

“It’s raining,” he points out.

“It certainly is,” you agree.

An uncomfortable silence follows. It’s one you aren’t used to at all, especially around Tobio. It felt so wrong.

You’re oh-so interested into the tip of your shoes that it startles you a little when a familiar umbrella suddenly appears in your field of vision. You didn’t even feel Kageyama coming closer, but there he was; standing a few steps away from you, handing his very own blue-ish umbrella. It takes you a second to take in the whole situation.

“Here,” he says, not budging an inch from his position. There are so many things you could question, but you can’t even find your voice to do so. Kageyama scoffs. “Don’t give me that look. You never bring one yourself, do you?”

And then it hits you. Violently, like a sudden epiphany, even when it’s something you’ve known for a long time now.

He cares.

Seeing you aren’t trying to accept the offer, Tobio nudges the umbrella in your direction, vehemently. Nothing. He knits his brows together. He knows you’re stubborn, but so is he, and he isn’t taking a no for answer— Wait.

“... Are you crying?” 

It’s crazy how all it takes for you to crack are three words, because suddenly you’re choking on your own tears, so it’s kinda pointless to try to keep appearances now. And Kageyama dies a little, because oh my god you’re crying.

“Hey… Hey!” he flails, voice admittedly cracking. “Why are you crying? It’s— It’s something I did?”

But since you’re in no condition to speak up, his questions remain unanswered. He has never been at such a loss for words as he stares at you, sobbing and whimpering and scrubbing at your face just to let more tears stream down your cheeks, pretty much like a kid would do, which only makes it all the more heart-wrenching. All the more unbearable to witness.

Kageyama unconsciously searches in his pockets for a handkerchief or a tissue or anything that would make you stop crying, really, only to realize he doesn’t even has one of those to offer up. But there’s something in the way you cry your heart out that shakes him to the very core, that disarms him and calls for desperate measures. So, he does something he usually wouldn’t.

You flinch noticeably when a hand hesitantly brushes against your cheek. The touch is awkward, yet undeniably gentle, and you momentarily stop your crying to blink up at him through the tears. It’s blurry, but you can still make out his deep blue eyes. The way he freezes as soon as he’s caught, like he’s just broken some sort of unspoken rule by initiating physical contact and is waiting for divine retribution or something. His lips pursing in that signature pout of his. You take in every part of him, gratefully.

“You hate me?” You don’t even realize how uncalled for your question sounds until it’s out, but what is done is done, and Kageyama seems so genuinely bewildered— It’s almost laughable.

“How could I possibly hate you?”

And that’s all you need to put aside every bit of your stubborn pride.

“I don’t wanna fight anymore,” you state, finally.

Kageyama needs an actual second to register your words. “Ok,”

“I hate fighting.”

“Me too,” he admits, far too quickly to be insincere, far too unfiltered for your liking.

“I don’t wanna be mad at you,” You’re probably just running your mouth at this point, but you just can’t bring yourself to stop. “and I don’t want you to be mad at me, either.”

“I’m not mad at you.” he says, and it’s as comforting as it is nerve-wrecking. “And you don’t have to be mad, if you don’t want to.”

Sniffle. A tiny, selfish tear attempts to slip away, but Tobio wipes it before she gets too far. “So don’t cry…”

But crying does not obeys anyone’s command, so you keep sniffing and snivelling for a while until you’re finally done with it, and Tobio stays. He’d stay forever, if you’d let him.

Eventually, the rain ceases.

[atlas-tries]

Shatter Me Chapter 2: The Parent Trap (Thomasphere Edition)

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Summary: In which our protagonist finds himself in quite the sticky situation.

Notes: Hey hi hello I hope y’all are ready for this  >:3c And if you think this is something, just wait until you see what I have planned for next week! Buahahaha! That said, I do hope you enjoy! ^^ Thank you to all of you who have been supporting my story!

“Look, Specs, all I’m saying is something is definitely up with him. Cooking us breakfast but not eating with us? Disappearing as soon as we so much as glance in his direction? Has he even let you near him for the past few days without making some excuse as to why he has to go somewhere else?” Roman paced in the living room while Logan reviewed his notes on the couch.

“Roman, it’s been exactly two days, five hours, forty-seven minutes, and twenty seconds since Patton began showing this behavior. It’s not exactly a cause for concern for him to take some time for himself,” Logan replied, not bothering to look up at the Prince.

Roman looked indignant. “Oh okay, Dr. Jerkyll and Mr. Blind, then how do you explain those weird marks all over his body?”

Immediately, Logan perked up, a vague look of concern flashing across his face. “Marks? Elaborate.”

“I saw them on his hands yesterday. These little … jagged lines. And this morning, his onesie hood slipped off for a moment and I saw them on his neck, too,” Roman replied.

Logan tapped his chin and looked down. “It’s interesting you brought that up. Several days ago, I also noticed something on his neck, but at the time, he said it was chocolate. Could that have been a falsehood meant to cover up some sort of injury?”

“I don’t know, but it’s our only lead for now. Why wouldn’t he tell us if something was wrong?”

“Perhaps it would be best to seek that answer from Patton.”

“Yes! The best way to face any problem is to face it head on! Temporary truce?”

Logan nodded. “Temporary truce.”

The two immediately began planning the ways they might go about it, from simply asking Patton point-blank about what was going on to an elaborate Roadrunner scene that ended with him admitting his troubles in a gazebo in Prague. In the end, the two compromised on a plan that was guaranteed to work; Roman had come up with the falsehoods while Logan constructed the tools of their treachery. There was no way animal crackers and a giant Chinese finger trap would fail them now.

On day six of their truce, Roman and Logan finally put their scheme into motion. It was almost painful for them to hear Patton struggling to free himself. It took him the greater part of ten minutes before he finally settled down in defeat, softly whimpering.

---

At times like this, Patton wondered where he went wrong.

Here he was, groveling on the floor, his wrist trapped in some strange icing machine on the counter. Maybe this was divine retribution for the past few days or for not telling the others what was going on? He knew they were beginning to suspect something. At least, he felt like they were. He had been in full view of the Prince when his favorite onesie’s hood slid down a few mornings ago. He was fully aware of Logan’s eyes lingering on him for longer than normal. The hushed tones they used when they thought he was out of listening range hadn’t escaped his keen ears. Even Anxiety had popped up in his room yesterday wondering where he had been.

“Not that I was worried or anything, but … are you mad at me?” Anxiety asked, fiddling with his hoodie strings like he always did. “It’s just, you haven’t really come by these past few days and—”  

“Of course not, Anxiety! I’ve been uh, cleaning! Yeah, just cleaning my room. Definitely not hiding! I must’ve lost track of time. I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, we can watch one of those,” Patton visibly gulped, “scary movies you like so much. How does that sound?” He tried not to let the dread of a horror flick reach his face.

Anxiety immediately perked up. “Really?” he asked.

Patton nodded, giving as genuine a smile as he could muster. “Really really.”

Thankfully, those awful cracks had now healed enough to where Patton was able to wear his normal clothes again. That turned out to be less of a blessing than he had bargained for; a normal trip to the kitchen quickly turned into something out of one of Anxiety’s favorite horror movies as soon as Patton spotted the traitorous animal crackers.

There was a little note in front of the bowl that looked to be from Logan. Patton, please enjoy this snack. The contraption on the counter will coat them in rainbow-chip frosting. Be sure to get them in deep and keep holding it until the frosting finishes. He looked at the macaroni noodle-shaped contraption on the counter. “Aw, that’s so sweet! I’ll have to remember to thank him for all of this later. But for now, I ani-must bring these back to ani-munch on,” he said to himself with a chuckle. “Not before trying one out, though!” He grabbed a lion shaped animal cracker and shoved it into the thingamajig on the counter, but nothing happened.

“Huh, maybe it’s just slow?” He stood there for a good minute or so waiting on delicious frosting, but he knew he couldn’t keep Anxiety waiting for too long. “Anxiety is waiting for me, so I guess yummy frosting will have to wait for me instead.” Patton tried to pull his hand out, but the contraption latched onto him like a vice. “Uh oh.” He tugged harder. It didn’t let go. He leaned his entire weight against it. Still nothing.

He wasn’t freaking out.

“Logan? Roman? Winnie the Pooh is stuck in the honey tree!” he cried. He waited and listened, but no one came. That meant Roman was probably off gallivanting in the Imagination and Logan had to be nose deep in his afternoon studies. Neither Anxiety nor Deceit were allowed in the light side’s common area.

He definitely wasn’t freaking out.

It felt like hours of pointless struggling passed by before Patton gave up, sinking down onto the kitchen floor and quietly whimpering against the cabinet doors. Which brought him to where he was now. “I didn’t even get any animal crackers …” he whined.

Finally, he heard quiet footsteps coming from the living room. “Roman? Logan?” Patton called out. He turned his head toward the doorway but could only partly see the two sides rushing in. “Oh, thank goodness!”

“Patton? What happened? Are you alright?” Roman asked.

“I’m fine, just in a bit of a sticky situation,” Patton said, getting up off the floor. “I’ve been at this for so long now, I’m surprised I haven’t sprouted gray hairs! There’s just no way to get out of this. But now that you two are here, maybe there’s hope after all!”

Logan approached him from the front. “We will of course get you out, but first, we need you to do something for us,” he said.

“Sure, anything you need, kiddos,” Patton replied.

Logan nodded. “I’m glad to hear you say that because we need to ask you some very important questions.”

Patton could see the concern behind his steely facade. Even Roman looked a little tense.

“Please, Padre.” Roman put a hand on his shoulder.

Patton looked down. “Questions?” He quickly jerked his head back up and pasted on as real a smile as he could. “As long as they aren’t about the secret ingredient for my pasta.”

“We couldn’t help but notice you’ve been a little … out of sorts lately. We just want to know that you’re alright,” Roman said, coming to stand beside Logan.

“Of … course I am. What makes you think something’s wrong?” Patton asked, feeling that familiar nervousness rise whenever someone brought his emotional status up.

Logan said, “For one thing, you’ve been isolating yourself for the past eight days, fifteen hours, seventeen minutes, and two seconds. For another, we have reason to believe that you may have incurred some injury, which led to this isolating behavior.”

Roman rolled his eyes at Logan. “Way to be subtle, you muddy elephant.”

Patton could only stare in abject horror as the two hashed out Roman’s name calling. They really had caught on. They knew.

They knew.

They knew.

“I … can’t …” They looked back at him. He couldn’t find it in him to summon any words. He couldn’t escape their eyes. He couldn’t escape them. The two became rather wobbly-looking in front of him, at least until the tears broke free. He sank back down to the floor, silent as the grave but still awash with fear.

Instantly, both sides were near him, Roman rubbing comforting circles on his back. They hurt where his fingers brushed over the cracks, but Patton did his best not to let it show any more than he already was.

Too bad they were so perceptive. “Are you wearing something else under this shirt? The perfectly personalized armor I gave you for Christmas last year, perhaps?” Roman asked, focusing on one particularly painful fissure.

“Patton, please. We want to help you, but we can only do that if you let us help you,” Logan said, releasing Patton’s wrist from the trap and resting a hand on his thigh.

You’re too naive to even see that you’re so broken. Patton stared at the hand. Maybe focusing on it would make the pain stop spreading again.

He didn’t notice Roman mouthing something to Logan over his shoulder. Not that he needed to know; he felt the cracks had extended beyond his sleeves. It was all over. He couldn’t hide. He couldn’t escape. That left only one option.

Patton’s hand was suddenly on Logan’s, leading it to the hem of his shirt. “P-promise me … nothing will change,” he whispered, letting his hand go limp. Tears fell with little plops onto his khakis.

Logan nodded. He gently lifted Patton’s shirt up, revealing those horrible cracks etched across his skin. A little bit of blue shone through over his heart. Patton closed his eyes in shame.

“What is …” Roman’s voice trailed off. He cleared his throat. “What is all of this?” he slowly said. His fingers so gently outlined the little ridges, as though one false move would make Patton shatter.

“It’s w-what happens when I’m … hurt,” Patton said. He balled his fists in his lap to keep himself from outrightly sobbing.

Logan, who was at first too shocked to say anything or react, suddenly spoke. “Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice full of protective vengeance.

“N-no one,” Patton replied. It wasn’t technically a lie; despite being spurred on by hurtful comments, this was something that moreso inflicted itself on him.

“But you just said this is what happens when you’re hurt. Surely this injury must have a cause. Did you … hurt yourself somehow?” Roman pleaded.

You did this to yourself just to make us coddle you.

Patton quietly cried out as the cracks split up his neck and down his limbs a bit more, and suddenly the world was on its side. He panted hard, trying to get his breathing under control. It’s not so bad. It’s not so bad. It’s not so bad oh gosh it hurts real bad it hurts real bad make it stop makeitstopmakeitstop.

“What’s happening? Why are they spreading?” Roman asked frantically.

With a shaky voice, Patton said, “R-roman … c-come closer.” Roman did as he said. “Closer.” Once again, Roman shifted nearer. “C-closer.” Roman’s face was almost touching Patton’s. “I g-guess you c-could s-say it’s … b-because I’m a little … broken up.” Patton summoned a tiny grin.

Logan groaned. “If he’s with it enough to make horrible puns, he’s probably fine, although I do wish to study this rather, um … concerning phenomenon. Are you able to stand?” he asked.

“Y-yeah, even though I m-might not’ve h-had you floored with m-my jokes, I sh-should be able to get off of this one,” Patton replied. Even Roman was reeling with that one.

“I might scream,” said Logan. He still offered a hand to Patton, as did Roman. With their help, he was once again standing. The world was still a little spinny and he ended up falling just a little bit onto Roman, but the dizziness should go away soon enough. At least the pain felt a little more tolerable now thanks to those jokes. “If you’re quite finished with your nonsensical japes, please come with me.”

“S-sorry, kiddo, I actually h-have something planned for th-this afternoon. Can it wait until, uh,” Patton looked up and counted on his fingers, “eight thirty?”

“… I suppo—”

“Why didn’t you tell us about this sooner?” Roman suddenly asked. “We could’ve helped you figure it out, maybe even addressed it in a video!”

Patton nodded. “I know I should’ve said something, but I didn’t want you guys worrying about it. You have enough on your plates as it stands with everything for videos and Thomas’s life, and I wasn’t going to add one more noodle onto that heaping plate of pasta,” he said.

“Wait, when did we begin speaking about pasta?” asked Logan.

“It’s a figure of speech, Captain Oblivious.” Roman turned back to Patton. “Don’t ever think that we wouldn’t care enough to want to know when something’s wrong. From now on, if something’s hurting you, please let us know.” He pulled Patton into a hug.

“I will,” Patton sighed happily and returned the hug. A bit of doubt still lingered heavily on his chest; he didn’t know if he would ever have it in him to tell them they were part of the problem. Shoving that thought down, he grabbed the bowl of animal crackers and once again made his way to the closet door.

---

“Logan’s log, Mindscape date 0-2-1-5-1-7. Subject matter: Patton’s mysterious injury. Subject was seen today to investigate the cause of an unknown thoracoabdominal injury resembling deep cuts radiating out from just over his heart. Nothing appears broken, skin integrity is good, albeit rigid near the injury sites. Subject’s essence is viewable from the deepest portions of the injury. It appears to be symmetrical between ventral and dorsal surfaces.

“First aid was attempted after the initial exam. All known methods of wound care up to, and including, sutures, staples, bandages, superglue, peppercorns, and army ants were all shown to be ineffective. Much of this is attributed to skin rigidity surrounding the injury site. However, the injury itself appears stable and very little essence has been lost.

“Subject was then queried on the following: date of initial injury, potential cause of initial injury, potential causes of further injury in relevance to earlier growth, pain level, and his observations of the phenomena. Subject stated that he couldn’t remember when the injury first occurred, nor did he remember what caused it. His pain levels fluctuate throughout the day. In regards to personal observation, he stated that the injury had a mind of its own, though how something like that could possibly have a mind is beyond my comprehension at this time. Further testing is needed before an answer can be reached.”

Logan clicked the stop button on the tape recorder and set it down on his desk. He swiveled around in his chair so he was facing the father figure seated squarely on his bed. “This doesn’t make any sense. Patton, are you sure this is all you can remember?” he asked. Patton nodded wordlessly. “Hmm. Well, it’s not much of a start, but I’ll start formulating some hypotheses. For now, I’d like to check up on your healing in one week. I’ll call you if I need more information before then.”

“Alright, just don’t stay up too late now,” Patton said, gently hugging the logical side. Though Logan normally didn’t care much for overt physical affection, he found himself returning the hug. It didn’t last long, but it was just as well that Patton had cut it short and left in a hurry; there were some additional observations Logan needed to record without Patton being around to hear them.

Logan sat down at the desk and picked the tape recorder up again. “Logan’s log, continuation of subject matter: Patton’s mysterious injury. I have suspicions that Patton is not telling me everything he knows about his condition. For now, I believe the most logical course of action is to observe his actions to see if I can uncover any clues and to monitor healing.”

He clicked the stop button. This, truly, was one of the only times where Logan Sanders felt truly perplexed.

---

Patton had just closed the door to his bedroom when he noticed a familiar yellow and gray-clad figure perched on the edge of his bed. “My my, I always knew you were the clever one of the bunch, Patton, but I had no idea you could pull something like that off,” Deceit suddenly said, turning his head toward Patton to reveal a smirk.

Patton tilted his head. “What are you talking about? I … I told them, didn’t I? Wait, what are you doing up here?”

“Oh, I had no idea what I was doing, honestly, and I’ll be sure to take ages telling you what I came here to tell you. But back onto you, my dear Father Figure. I just loved how you really relinquished every last little detail to them, especially the part where you told them it was all their fault that you’re even in this state.”

“But that’s not true!”

Deceit closed the gap between them with slow strides as he spoke. “Then why keep the real cause from them? Why keep handing me this beautiful undoing?”

Patton steadily backed up until his back was against the door, doing everything in his power to shrink away from Deceit’s piercing gaze. “Because,” Patton looked genuinely lost for a moment before finding his footing again, “it’s like I said before, I’m not adding another noodle to their pasta salad!”

Deceit gave him a briefly quizzical look before evening his expression out again. “I know exactly what that means.”

“I don’t want anyone to have to walk on eggshells around me. It hurts, sure, but they never mean to hurt me.”

“I’ve never heard that one before, certainly not in our last little discussion.” Deceit rolled his eyes and gave a flip of his hand. “How much longer do you intend to pander to me? At first, it was rather fun but now it’s just getting tiring. I’m definitely not getting worried at all.”

Patton eased enough to crack a small smile. “You don’t have to worry about this anymore, Dee. I think that now that they know this much, maybe things will get better and I won’t even have to bring it up,” he said, not knowing when he had begun holding Deceit’s hands.

Deceit sighed, looking down at where the two were connected and back up into Patton’s warm brown eyes. “I hope for your sake that’s true.”

He sunk out without another word, leaving Patton with an uncertain feeling in his heart.

Taglist: @celeste-tyrrell @taxicabinmemphis

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Hi! I love your blog and your writing! That last Juno and Ben fic you wrote was so beautiful and heartbreaking, and 'I will love you if I never see you again' was INCREDIBLE, I've read it like three times! I was wondering if I could request some Ben/Mick fluff or angst? Thanks and I hope you take care!

Thank you so, so much for your lovely words about my work, I’m so glad you like it! 

And I am very sorry that this is how I’m repaying you...

---

“I think I’m going to move out.”

Mick was half asleep already, he wasn’t sure what he’d heard for a moment. He wasn’t even sure Ben had spoken, his voice was so soft and small, like he was half a world away rather than lying in his arms, their noses practically touching on the pillow.

“Huh?” he mumbled in response, forcing one eye to open even with how leaden his eyelids felt. Mick had always been a heavy sleeper.

But the sight of Benzaiten Steel was worth it. He looked so different when he was tired, without the make-up and the smiles he put on for the rest of the world. Mick always felt like he was seeing a version of Ben that no one else got to see, making him feel like the luckiest guy on Mars. So much about Ben made him feel like that. Right now he was staring at him with wide eyes, still slightly glazed, it couldn’t have been more than five minutes since he finished. His face was soft, unmanaged, vulnerable. He looked like how Mick remembered from their first night together, the night they hadn’t even needed to have sex because just being in the same bed, nothing between them, had been more than enough. He looked sixteen again.

“I think I’m going to move out,” Ben repeated, voice still small like he was worried someone would hear, “Out of mom’s house.”

Mick stopped, both eyes snapping open now. He sat up, wanting to focus, wanting to force his mind that wandered so easily to stay still and really listen because he could see now how important this evening had suddenly become. And he’d thought tonight would have been the same as any other Saturday; movies on his dad’s ratty old sofa, ones they didn’t really listen to because they were so wrapped up in each other. Sex that was amazing, sleeping in each others arms that was somehow even better and Ben waking him up as he tried to leave quietly for his early class the next morning. Mick liked predictability, he liked knowing what was coming. And he hadn’t known this was coming, not at all.

“Oh…” Mick mumbled, wishing he had something better to say, as Ben followed him in sitting up, “You...you sure?”

Ben sighed, not in frustration at Mick, he was pretty much the only person on Mars who had never and would never do that. He just sighed like he was deeply exhausted, leaning back against the headboard, curls falling in his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling.

“I just...I don’t think I’m doing any good, Mick,” he mumbled, “I thought she needed me around but...lately, more and more, it feels like me being there is making her worse?”

Mick chewed on his lip unhappily. He didn’t like to comment on Ben’s ma. He didn’t know a lot about her, honestly, for someone who’d known the Steel twins as long as he could remember. There had been the odd conversation, sure, where she’d handed them juice when they were little kids and asked about school in the way adults did, like they all read from the same script. But that was all he knew, even after nearly five years dating Ben and more than a decade of friendship with them both.

And most of that was their doing, Jay and Ben had always kept her at arm’s length from their friends. Mick more saw the periphery, he saw the impressions that were left. He saw how Jay’s jaw would tighten when the subject of parents came up in school, like when they’d read a story about a happy family or the teacher would mention taking something home to mom and dad. He saw how Ben would get uncomfortable when Mick was at his house, not like he didn’t want him there but like he was expecting something bad to happen at any moment, something where he’d need to throw himself in front of Mick to protect him. He’d seen the signs on both of them, the signs of missed meals and sleepless nights. He’d had them both turn up on his doorstep on a school night before, asking meekly, shamefaced, if they could sleep on his floor. He knew Sasha had, too.

And he’d heard the arguments since Jay had split and joined the academy. He’d seen Ben coming back from dinners with his brother, red eyed and tense. He heard his boyfriend angrily slam his comms down on a conversation halfway through.

Mick knew enough. Enough to make his stomach churn when he would drop Ben off at home and watch him walk through the door, feeling like somehow he had failed him.

But Ben had stayed, even after Jay left before the candles were even blown out on his eighteenth birthday cake. And Mick trusted Ben’s reasons for doing that, for them still not having moved in together, for there having been no word of moving beyond what they had right now, still a high school relationship with more frequent sleepovers. He trusted his boyfriend’s big heart.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared for it, each and every day.

“How do you mean worse?” he asked, striving for delicacy even when he knew it was so far from his strong suit.

Ben hadn’t looked at him since he’d spoken but now Mick got the sense he was deliberately doing it, “I mean...she...it’s complicated but...the pills…”

Mick reached over and took his hand, where it was lying limply on the bed. After a moment, those fingers responded, holding Mick’s tightly in return.

“She keeps thinking I’m Juno,” he admitted, voice shrunk right down, “She’s seeing things, she’s losing things when they’re right in front of her. It feels like the medication isn’t doing it’s job any more. And sometimes...she says things. To me. When she thinks I’m Juno.”

Mick felt his shoulders square, “What kind of things? Ben?”

“Nothing she means,” he said quickly, shaking his head, “It’s her...troubles talking. But I don’t think I’m helping any more. I...I think she needs to move somewhere. A facility. Where they can keep her safe when I can’t.”

Ben actually flinched, like he was expecting some divine retribution, like he was waiting for the universe to rail against him for even daring to say that about his own mother.

But there were only the two of them, lying side by side in the darkness. And honestly, Mick was doing everything he could to keep the relief out of his voice.

“Ben, you’ve done everything you can for her, more than you ever had to,” he spoke haltingly, trying so hard to find the right words to match what was going on inside him, “And deep down, she knows that. If this is what's right for her, then it’s what’s right. And...it’s not your fault.”

Ben looked up at him and Mick realised in that moment that his boyfriend had been holding back tears for a while now. He folded him into his arms and let him sob against his chest, stroking his tight curls and rocking him, just like he’d always wanted someone to do for him when he cracked like this. When he was little, anyway. Now he had Benzaiten.

Mick always hated this, he hated that there were hurts inside the man he loved that he couldn’t fix. But Ben had taught him that he could at least be there.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, when he felt Ben’s tears start to slow, “It’s alright, sunshine. It’s okay.”

“Thanks,” Ben gasped, moving to rub his eyes but Mick got there first, gently dabbing at them with the edge of his shirt, “It’s just hard. I love her and...and she’s going to hate me…”

“She’s your ma, Ben. She loves you,” Mick tried to reassure him though, truthfully, he had no idea, “Sometimes you have to make decisions that are hard but...they’re what’s best in the end.”

“I know...I just feel so selfish.”

“Selfish is the last thing you are, Benzaiten Steel,” Mick’s voice firmed now he knew he was saying something absolutely true and he held onto his boyfriend tightly, “Believe me, I’m an idiot, but even I know that.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Ben shouldered him lightly, barely even moving his boyfriend who was much bigger than him, “Don’t say that.”

“Well don’t say you’re selfish,” Mick returned, chuckling, bringing them back to lying down, back to being nose to nose, “You just...you love so much, Ben. Everything you do is motivated by that. And it’s so nice.”

Ben sighed gently and kissed him lightly on the lips, “See? How can you say you’re an idiot when you say such lovely things?”

Mick laughed, kissing him back just because he could and because it felt so good, before murmuring, “So...if you’re moving out...do you need a place to stay? Cos I know a not-idiot who has room in his bed…”

Ben’s eyes shone and hope dawned in them, “Really? You’d be okay with that?”

“Sure!” Mick grinned, “Or, hell, we don’t even have to live here. I’ll sell my bike and we can move somewhere new, get out of Oldtown, off of Mars itself if you want. Somewhere fun and exciting and you can dance and I can write and we’ll have a million pets and a million kids and we’ll get married and love each other for the rest of our lives…”

Ben was giggling and squirming before he’d even finished, blushing beautifully and burying his face against Mick’s neck, “You’d need to sell more than your bike...but that sounds nice.”

“Sure does,” Mick held him close, able to breathe again now the smile was back on Ben’s face.

“It’ll take a bit of time I guess, finding her a place, somewhere nice where they’ll take good care of her and help her feel safe…” Ben murmured, “Somewhere away from all the noise and stress...but then I can sell the house to pay for it, Juno will help...and then…”

“And then?” Mick murmured, kissing the top of his head.

He felt him smile against his skin, a smile of pure hope.

“Then I can get on with loving you for the rest of my life.”

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 13: The Party

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

It's been one whole year since Lily was Turned and she refuses to let it be a bummer. Time to party!

[READ IT ON AO3]

Nadya’s glad she never has to explain to anyone what the Shadow Den looked like before Jax joined the Council and made the Clanless, well, not-so-Clanless. It’s just such a different place. Sometimes that dark and dim tiny-flame-in-the-endless-night hopeful sanctuary for anyone seeking it seems like a distant dream rather than a memory.

Even if she tried, too, Nadya’s not quite so sure they would believe her.

That being said — Maricruz has really outdone herself.

Every bodega and small store in the city must be sold out of string lights. Not that Nadya’s complaining; all the bulbs put together like this form a weird kind of heated-lamp effect and being underground in the middle of January had been one of her biggest concerns about tonight.

The unofficial Fountain Square is a dazzling sight with multicolored fairy lights — and whatever stall can have streamers does have streamers stretching the whole length of the party. It’s kind of jarring when she spots the cutoff point. How everything just drops off into a dark abyss. But right now there’s probably no place safer on the entire island.

Adrian tucks his present higher under his arm and takes in the decorations with equal bewilderment. “I wonder where they’re siphoning the electricity from.”

There’s a little frown creasing between his eyebrows as he says it. Nadya knows that look and quickly diverts his attention. She doesn’t know either but she has a feeling the answer isn’t exactly on the right side of the law.

“I can’t believe you guys don’t do this for everyone.” This; a celebration for a successful year as a newbie-vampire. “Imagine what kind of party I could throw for you.”

Why is he looking at her like that? What does a 200 year old vampire have to be afraid of? Her party-planning skills are excellent, thank you very much. Or had he already forgotten the Fourth of July?

“Well, remember Nadya that for many people — especially around here — their Turning wasn’t something to look back on fondly.”

“Lily’s wasn’t.”

He’ll give her that. “Touché.” But his point still stands. “I can’t speak for some of the younger ones, but I definitely don’t remember the date on which I was Turned.”

“Because colonial America used different calendars?”

“Because we were in the middle of a war.” Which is a fair point, so Nadya concedes.

Only they’ve brought up his Turning — so of course Adrian goes uncomfortably quiet beside her. Thoughts lost a long time ago and with company way less cool than those at present. So instead she hooks her arm in his and points forward to where the alley of casual attendees empties out into the heart of the Square.

Hard to believe nearly a year ago they had sat in this very spot, Adrian on the run and Nadya just trying to keep up with everyone. They had sat together on the rim of the old memorial fountain and she just knew the weight of the injustice was something he demanded to carry. “So do something about it,” she had said — an offhanded thing when they were safe and sound.

But he had.

He had wanted to have a brand-new fountain made especially for the Shadow Den. Jax had refused, which was an argument Nadya’s too happy to recall at the moment, but his reasons were sound. Instead they worked together to renovate the one already down here. It wasn’t just a place to remember the lost and mourned; it was as much a part of the community as Jax, or Lily, or even little Lula.

Now, with cracks filled-in and worn edges sanded back to definition, the memorial stone in the heart of the Shadow Den was no longer something to avoid looking at. Now the pictures and names and memories of gone loved ones could be celebrated. As they were meant to.

Adrian takes it in; his passion project, his apology letter to the Clanless community. This can never make up for what we’ve done — but it’s a place to start. He starts blinking rapidly and Nadya squeezes his arm to draw him out of his somber appreciation.

Lily would kill her if she found out someone was crying at her party.

They leave their presents on a small pile by the fountain rim. What did you get someone for surviving death for the first time around — well Lily hadn’t wanted presents so much as the party itself, but if anyone wanted to bring something for the community they were more than welcome to.

As if Nadya could ever attend a party and not bring a gift.

“Nadi’Nadi’Nadi’Nadi’!”

Incoming. She braces herself for literal impact and somehow still manages to stumble as the whirlwind of child vampire comes at her like a tiny freight train. Pulls little Lula back to hold her at arms’ length and grin down at those tiny fangs and sparkling eyes.

“Hey kiddo,” she takes care not to ruffle the young girl’s hair, done up all special for the party with curls that look suspiciously like Maricruz’s, “wow, look at your dress!”

Lula spins in her frilly little frock, on one foot and with arms spread out, while her stuffed elephant is dangerously close to being hurled into oblivion. “D’you like it, do you do you doyou?”

“I feel like I’m looking at a movie star.”

Nadya elbows Adrian for good measure. He startles only a bit this time. “Absolutely,” he agrees, “you look like a little Shirley Temple.”

“Who?” Lula asks with her head cocked, and Nadya quickly slaps her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.

“I’m gonna let you handle that one.”

And if he’s going to try and get out of it the way Lula suddenly latches onto him insisting she knows stops that in its tracks. Nadya just winks and skirts off while she still can.

Because there’s only one place to find Lily Spencer at any party — and that’s exactly where Nadya finds her. Digging around in the wires underneath what looks like a pretty expensive DJ rig with wire strippers between her teeth and tangled electrical tape in her determined grasp.

She crouches down and taps Lily on the forehead. “Anything I can do?”

“I’ll call you if I want it to break.”

Not that they don’t grin at one another — Nadya’s fully aware of her technological ineptitude. Still she makes herself comfortable to watch a master work her art.

“You remember this is your party, right?”

“Uh-huh, your point?”

“Shouldn’t someone else be doing that?”

Stupid questions get stupid answers; in this case a look that’s so withering Nadya will see it every time she so much as trips on a shoelace. So she tries something else; “Where’re Mari and Jax?”

Lily spits out the roll of tape and Nadya grabs it before it can disappear in the crowd of feet. “Jax and Arnold are bringing in the kegs. Someone needed a boss so Mari went off. Hand me that, no, that thing right — no to your left.”

“You just said right!”

“Your other right!”

Lily all but yanks the god-knows-what from her hand and Nadya flicks her roommate’s nose for the trouble. “Don’t hang out under here for too long, okay?”

“Nadya — I can’t just sit by and not have a banger playlist going at a party with my name on it.”

“Really, will the party gods cast you out?” She feigns surprise, and quickly scrambles off of the small temporary stage before divine retribution comes upon her.

“You’d better run, Al Jamil!”

Only… Lily can’t see around the booth, so she doesn’t know just how right she is.

After all, why would anything ever go right for her? Why would she think she could enjoy a nice party and not turn to physically collide into the one person she had hoped she could just… yearn at from a safe and wistful distance?

Kamilah catches her faster than it takes her to realize she’s falling. Hands steady on her upper arms, making sure she’s not about to keel over and end up a pool of blood on the concrete underfoot.

Talk about falling head-over-heels.

“Uh — thanks for that…” says Nadya sheepishly, but Kamilah doesn’t respond. She just stares, eyes practically squinting, before leaning back with a nod.

“What,” Nadya pales, “something on my face?”

The woman shakes her head. “No. I was merely checking to make sure you had your contacts in.”

Oh. “Y-Yeah. Lily likes to — well this dance she invented is just spinning around and with her new speed I really didn’t want them to pistol-whip someone in the face.” Is she rambling?

Wow, she’s rambling. And Kamilah notices it too; likely in the same moment. The smile it gets is small but there. Like a secret between them even in the small crowd.

It makes Nadya feel not-so-bad for having one of her own.

“Thanks for coming,” she switches the subject quickly, “dunno if you know but… it—it means a lot to Lil’.” And to me.

Kamilah’s words are careful and measured. “Well then, you may tell Lily that I am grateful for the invitation. And wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to see her… enjoying herself.”

So this is a thing they’re going to be doing, huh.

Before Nadya can answer there’s a shrill whistle that makes the entire crowd—save herself—flinch. Sensitive vampires and whistles do not go well together.

A gaggle of angry glares all whip over to where Jax is smirking at the entrance to another alley of stalls. He lowers his fingers from his lips and motions at them with a wave. Before Kamilah even gets the chance to consider declining, Nadya nudges her with insistence. “Come on, we’re not gonna be those people.”

“And which people would that be?”

“The ones who get social restraining orders on each other.”

She doesn’t mention it, but Nadya doesn’t miss the little bit of relief that crosses Kamilah’s face under a string of purple lights.

Jax has alcohol (some thankfully not from a keg, though she knows Lily can and will live her fantasy of a keg-stand at some point tonight) which, thank god honestly. It helps that he’s with her too — because someone has to be here to back her up when Nadya will try to convince the world Kamilah takes a bottle of cheap beer from Arnold with a thanks and a long drink.

Adrian joins them shortly after; the huff he gives at Nadya with no real heat behind it. “Nu-uh,” she drinks her cider to avoid laughing too hard, “you dated yourself back there, old man.” Which makes Jax and Kamilah give equally confused looks — so of course the laughter can’t be contained.

Halfway through her bottle there’s blowback on unseen speakers — followed by chill-yet-classy electronica. When Lily’s sliding in with a manic delight that could only mean she’s ready to do something crazy…

Though she wants to wait for her grand ‘stand until Maricruz can admire her for it.

The music acts like a beacon. Summons vampires and humans alike from their scattered conversations and to the Square for dancing. Lily doesn’t give Nadya a choice in joining her — but her two left feet are a compliment to her best friend’s two right ones and they make it work.

Jax, too, gets dragged in with them — who in their right minds could possibly turn down Lula for anything, ever — and its with absolute amusement that Nadya watches the older seamstress Evelyn accost Adrian for something that’s a little too much like a swing for the current beats-per-minute.

And then there was one.

Under the guise of “needing a change in pace ohmygod,” Lily shoves Nadya away and heads back to the stereo stage. Only someone horrendously oblivious would think she wasn’t trying to do the obvious.

It’s Kamilah. Kamilah is horrendously oblivious.

She looks down at Nadya’s offered hand with lips pursed. “This isn’t the sort of music I’m… familiar with dancing to.”

“You think anyone actually does?”

Together they look out to the dance floor. Nadya’s point is proven in every direction, and then some.

“Nadya…”

But it isn’t dancing that has Kamilah hesitating. It makes perfect sense — Nadya was stupid for thinking they even could. “Nope, you’re right, my bad. I’ll —”

The familiarity of her hand is astounding. A drink of cool water on a blistering summer day. Nadya remembers a distant thought — that she had been happy to give up those sunny afternoons without a look back if it meant being with Kamilah.

And now; laughing until she’s pink in the face while showing a two thousand year old vampire how to improvise a groove?

She still would.

An hour and a second bottle later and Nadya’s sure she might die. No really, this is what dying feels like. Tightness in her chest, she can’t breathe, tongue dry and heavy in her mouth and her pulse racing through her body and pounding in her temples.

And just what will she say with her dying breath?

“Groovy moves, Jax!”

Thus Nadya can depart this world peacefully — or at the very least fall back into Adrian in absolute hilarity with the knowledge he won’t let her fall.

Jax glares but doesn’t let it stop him. He keeps on hustling, keeps on murdering Nadya with every jerky thrust of his hips.

Cause of death: aggressive hustle.

Though if she doesn’t get some air she’ll get dizzy at the very least. Adrian helps her back by the impromptu bar where Kamilah leans against a support column.

“I was under the impression we as a society had agreed to leave disco behind.”

Adrian snorts a laugh. “You did, but I’m pretty sure you were the only one.”

“If you ever visited a disco you must have done so behind my back.”

“No, but I can’t begrudge people going out and having a good time.”

“Ah yes, I forgot who I was talking to,” Kamilah rolls her eyes so hard it makes Nadya’s head hurt, “you’ve always been Mister Fun Entertainment.”

“Hey —”

She would be happy to watch the pair of them go at it all night, really. But when Adrian stops mid-sentence its enough to make both Nadya and Kamilah turn to see where Lily is running towards them… and with an all-too-familiar widened panic in her eyes.

Just one thing, can’t they have just one thing?

“What is the matter?” Kamilah sets on her immediately, but Lily ignores her for Nadya.

“You need to come quick.”

“Where’ve you been?” She distantly remembers maybe hearing Lily call out for her girlfriend, who had been mysteriously absent for how excited she was to throw this thing. “Lil’, what’s wrong?”

“Too much talking, not enough walking.”

Lily starts to shove Nadya down the way she’d come. The older vampires follow hot on their heels.

“Lil’ — stop shoving me I’m gonna fall. I’m com—I’m coming, okay? Jeez…” She has to practically force Lily to let her walk on her own two feet. And still with no questions answered.

“They’re just up ahead.”

They. Why does Nadya’s stomach fall out of her butt at that? Probably because the only ‘they’ in her life lately have been crazy killer lovers, maybe, possibly?

“Come on, stop for a second.”

“No, I don’t wanna leave her alone with him for long.”

Well now Nadya’s thoroughly lost. Thankfully when she looks behind to the others she doesn’t seem to be the only one.

Lily takes them all passed the unofficial border of the party; where the lights don’t reach but a few stragglers chat and feed with donor’s permission by candlelight. The farther they go the worse her anxiety; but there’s no stopping now.

They finally round the roasted cashew cart and her brain doesn’t really register the fact that there’s nothing to immediately panic about.

Maricruz looks up at them with her arms crossed over her chest, expression set grim. Behind her Nadya vaguely recognizes the entry to one of the Den’s closed-off feeding areas — because apparently performance anxiety was a thing vampires could have.

“Are you okay baby?” Lily asks, and immediately slots herself against the other woman’s side. Maricruz nods and kisses her temple — but it’s an absent act; a physical reaction. Her mind is definitely elsewhere.

“‘M fine, cariña.”

“But —”

“He’s almost done.”

He pushes aside the curtain before Nadya, Adrian, or Kamilah can even begin to process what’s going on. He has to duck because obviously the Den wasn’t built with people his height in mind.

Cadence thumbs away a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth almost sheepishly. Despite having—apparently—just fed he looks haggard; hair tied back in a messy ponytail but falling around his face almost gaunt in the hollows of his cheeks.

He hauls up the strap of his shoulder bag a bit higher and only then realizes they have company. Even his smile is exhausted.

Nadya knows that if she opens her mouth right now the only thing that will come out is some variation of “what the literal crap” so she does the smart thing… and keeps it shut.

But… is anybody gonna say anything? Anything at all?

“You know this man?” asks Kamilah, clipped and curt behind her. It takes Nadya a second to realize she’s asking Maricruz.

The smuggler kicks at the dirt under her heel. “Kinda.”

Adrian almost sounds relieved. “Cadence — what are you doing in New York?”

When did you get here? Why didn’t you tell Kathy? How the heck is this my life right now? Nadya still doesn’t say a word though which is probably for the best.

Though, thankfully, her stomach totally bottomed out on the run over here. So when the blond vampire looks right at her there’s nowhere lower it could possibly go.

“I’m here because I need the Bloodkeeper’s help.”

Silence.

When someone speaks; Nadya’s as surprised as any of them when she recognizes the voice as her own.

“We should talk about this somewhere else.”

“I agree.”

“C’mon,” Maricruz jerks her head back to the heart of the Shadow Den; the party still swings without them, “we’ll go back to Matsuo’s.”

Not that they have many other options — and even if they did Maricruz is already marching on, Lily’s hand in hers, very much not looking back. They all start to follow — or nearly all.

They’re already around a corner when Nadya notices Kamilah isn’t with them.

She looks back and the look on the vampiress’ face is… scary. Part of that fear is because she recognizes it too-well; because it’s the reason the two of them are the way they are right now.

The rest of it is because it’s so sudden; it takes Nadya by surprise.

“Kamilah?” she calls, and distantly hears the footsteps ahead of her stop, “Are you coming?”

It almost looks like she isn’t.

Then one step forward, and another, like she’s remembering how to walk. Nadya follows slow and purposefully at her side the whole way there.

The first thing Nadya realizes once the door closes behind them — she’s stuck in a tiny apartment full of vampires. And it’s not like control has ever been on her side when it comes to these kinds of things.

Hopefully it won’t take long.

“I take it you haven’t made much progress with the Amulet?” Cadence asks, though judging by the already apologetic way he looks at Nadya he already knows the answer. “I see, I’m sorry to know that.”

“Why are you here?” It’s Kamilah who cuts to the chase; abrupt and almost rude; and she’s not the only one who realizes it.

Adrian throws Kamilah a look but it isn’t returned. She hasn’t looked away from Cadence from the moment he’d left the feeding den.

To his credit, the blond vampire remains calm even under her aggressive scrutiny. Not many can. “I came to try and help if I could. I spent a decade trying to find it; and though it might not have been any use to me personally I thought some of my research —” he pats the bag now resting in his lap, “— might prove useful.”

Which is great if it’s true. But Kamilah’s suspicion might just be rubbing off on her. Something about his attitude isn’t holding up.

“Why doesn’t Kathy know where you are?”

He doesn’t look away fast enough. Nadya doesn’t miss the flash of pain over his features. “This was an impulsive decision. I was going to tell her once I’d settled in… and once you had decided whether or not to accept my help.”

Adrian’s arms cross over his chest. “When did you arrive?”

“Just this afternoon. I spent the daylight hours at the train station and sought you out the moment I could. I have no desire to repeat what happened with Izzy.”

“Good move on your part.”

But Kamilah isn’t having it.

“I thought I was clear when I told you never to return to New York. Should I have followed it with a threat?”

“The threat was well-implied, Miss Sayeed.”

“And yet here you are.”

“I would think the threat the Amulet’s secrets pose were worth the risk.” He raises an eyebrow; meets her toe-to-toe and doesn’t back down. Nadya would be impressed if she didn’t know how badly things like this usually ended. And not against Kamilah’s favor.

“Do not speak to me of risks. I know better than anyone —”

Then Adrian is between them; Nadya didn’t register the distance slowly closing between the confronting vampires until he’s got a hand on each one’s shoulder and, from the looks of it, struggling to hold his fellow Council member back.

“Kamilah,” he tries to chide; actually has to swerve his head to get her to look away from Cadence and at him, “why are you acting like this?”

She doesn’t answer, but Nadya can guess pretty well on her own. Can’t say she hasn’t been feeling a little of that apprehension rolling off of the woman in waves herself, but she’s hoping it’s just Bloodkeeper projecting and not something she really feels.

But Cadence takes her silence as an opportunity to back down; literally. Instead he looks to Nadya.

“Not only that, but I wanted to apologize to you; to all of you.”

“For what?” Which might just be her stupidest question to date.

“For my actions at Persephone, and for not being there to try and give this kind of help before. But when night fell and I was able to get to the others, you’d already left Louisiana.”

She shrugs. “It was important we got back.” She had things to do after all. Vampires to break up with. Relationships to ruin. Depression to cry over.

“Of course, and I understand that. And I won’t do you the disservice of sitting here and saying my actions and intentions are entirely altruistic ones. I want to help you because it’s the right thing to do. But I hope you might return my offer with help of your own. Help only you, Nadya, can provide.”

And there it is. I’m here because I need the Bloodkeeper’s help.

Nadya holds up a hand to her friends before they can say anything in her stead. Whether they were planning to or not — she deserves the chance to speak first. They can’t begrudge her that, can they?

It’s her power. She can do what she wants with it. And frankly, after all the grief it’s caused her, the thought of doing some good with it is nice.

“You want me to try and find your memories.”

“Yes,” and it helps that he seems almost apologetic for asking, “because I hate to admit it — and I think I’ve been avoiding admitting it for some time now — you might be the only avenue I have left. Every single lead has come up dry. It’s been a century now… and I’m tired of getting my hopes up if I’m honest.”

Nadya wrings her hands together in her lap. “I don’t… I mean I want to help, Cadence, please understand that. And if I know that I can then yeah, let’s do it. But this isn’t something I have control of. I don’t even know if it’ll work.”

“It will.”

“I thought you weren’t getting your hopes up?”

“You misunderstand, see I know it will — because it already has.”

The only one who doesn’t look surprised is Maricruz, but she also doesn’t seem to have been paying attention since this began. She looks at Lily and judges the context from there.

Though even among those in the know the reactions are mixed. Adrian looks the good kind of surprised and that’s sensible; he was the first one to try and help after all. But Kamilah couldn’t be more opposite; she melts the emotion away easily but not before Nadya has a chance to see it for what it is — fear.

And Cadence, well, he’s getting kind of excited. “I’ve always known I served on account of the uniform, but I’ve never had a lick of a memory about the war itself. But now I do, Nadya, I do. It was so small, a roaring engine and fellow soldiers and what I think were bombs falling in the trenches. All fragments, really. Beautiful, wonderfully complex and confusing fragments. And it’s all thanks to you.” He leans forward and takes her hands in his. Nadya can’t tell if she’s the one shaking, or he is, or maybe they both are.

“Flechette, remember? You and Izzy.”

And she definitely remembers now. Awakening from unconsciousness, Isadora de la Rosa having been digging around in her head like she was an abandoned bin of winter clothes in the back of a garage. Cadence had been unconscious, and when he’d come to…

He sees the recognition across her face. “I should apologize for that, too. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it, and it was so fleeting… but you know how strange it is, don’t you. To have your entire life, all the things you can point to and know and name, and then suddenly there’s something new. Something you can feel in your bones is the truth.”

When Nadya swallows it feels like there’s glass in her throat. “And… you’re looking around, and you know what’s going to happen next because you—you lived it. But then you didn’t, and you’re still surprised.”

“But like a dream it never lasts long.”

“And you’re left wondering what was real and what was your imagination. Yes.”

If Nadya had known how good it would feel to have someone understand — actually understand; not because the memories were theirs but because they didn’t know what was going on just like she didn’t know what was going on — she would have laid out a red carpet for the guy.

Calling it nice doesn’t even scrape against what it really is, but there’s a relief there too. She holds on to that.

“You’re my last shot, Nadya,” Cadence insists; Nadya believes him utterly, “not only that you’re the only shot that’s yielded results. I think I’d given up a long time ago and not even realized it. Because to have hope for the first time… well, ever?”

She nods. She gets it — and not just because the longer her body heat has the chance to seep into his skin the more that starts to bleed through the cracks. Nadya yanks her hands away but luckily he doesn’t seem too insulted.

Adrian clears his throat and draws their attention. Pulls them out of their little world of someone who gets what it’s like to be someone and yourself and not knowing who either really is.

“Actually, this is a unique opportunity to study an actual measure to your abilities, Nadya.” He makes a point of ignoring the appalled silence radiating off of Kamilah beside him. “That is; if the both of you agree to a documented study.”

“Not a fan of how you’re making me sound like a lab rat.”

“You know what I mean.”

She does. And throwing a look Cadence’s way — he does, too.

“But we can hammer out the finer details tomorrow,” because he hasn’t missed Lily’s bouncing leg or the change of muffled music beyond the door, “because I think the hostess of the party has been away from it for long enough, wouldn’t you say Lily?”

“Lily would say,” Lily says, “Lily would definitely say.”

Cadence initially tries to back out but Lily won’t have it — though she does forget to tell him to duck before pulling him out of the apartment and he ends up stumbling with a red mark on his forehead. Maricruz follows at their heels and Adrian looks ready to join close behind — but he stops when he realizes no one else is coming along.

“Nadya? Kamilah? Are you coming?”

She knows what it looks like when someone is looking through you rather than at you. That’s why it hurts so much seeing it from eyes she’s always thought so beautiful; so boundless.

Nadya doesn’t regret ever falling for Kamilah. But at times like this — when she’s more content to twist herself up in her own concerns and shut everyone; shut Nadya out — she finds herself wondering how exactly she ended up doing so in the first place.

“Yeah, Adrian, I’m coming.”

She follows him out; and this time she doesn’t look back.

[finnofamerica]

Christmas Dinner - George Weasley x Reader

Summary: The reader is from a high-status pureblood family and is especially worried that the families won’t get along because the Weasleys are “blood traitors

Date: 12.15.2019

|| Masterlist || 

You muttered your list to yourself as you frantically flitted about the kitchen. Ham, cranberry jelly, rolls, potatoes, gravy. The words fell quietly from your lips over and over as you triple and quadruple checked each item. You hoped you had enough to feed everyone. 

George wasn’t much better, nervously fixing each place setting hoping to meet your parents’ high standards. 

While you both came from pureblood families, your parents - along with many other “high status” families - looked down upon the Weasleys for being “blood traitors.” You did too, once upon a time. You grew up hearing about how terrible blood traitors were, even though you knew it was wrong. 

Your family was so proud of you when you got sorted into Slytherin, and you were proud to be one, but as you grew and matured, the more you watched the “blood traitor” Weasleys the more you couldn’t stand the way your housemates would talk about them. Fred and George, while troublemakers, were also two of the kindest people you’d ever met in your life. 

You watched them cheer up the brokenhearted and comfort the disavowed. Of course, you had heard about how they practically adopted the orphaned Harry. So when your cousin’s cousin was talking bad about the Weasleys, you stood. You stood proud and tall in your green and black robes, in the middle of the Christmas day feast, instilled with a fury so strong that it burned silently. As you passed by your fellow Slytherins to meet your cousin’s cousin, they could feel the flames coming from deep within you. Your face was neutral and calm, but the fire shone behind your eyes. 

“You seem to think you are better than others, Draco.” You turned to him coldly. “For years I have heard you say nothing but belittlement towards the Weasleys and Harry, and yet you speak so highly of yourself.” 

Other students whispered around you, how dare she speak to him like that? Accompanied by whispers dubbing you The Fury like the ancient Greek myths. 

“Tell me, cousin,” You spat, “When people come to you in need do you help them? Or do you trod over them like your father taught you? You may think power comes from blood, but in reality, it comes from those who place their trust in you. I for, one, would not trust you as far as I can throw you and neither should anyone else. Tell me, how far do you think that will get you?” 

You watched as his face twisted into an angry red frown, opening and closing his mouth while he struggled for something to say but you knew the dying words on his lips ‘My father will hear about this’. You left without another word. Slytherins and Ravenclaws could swear that as you left, your shoes burned scorch marks onto the floor. 

The next day you received two things. One, a letter from your Father, telling you - in his own way - that he was proud that you stood up for what you thought was right despite the fear that the Malfoy family name carried. Two, George. 

George thanked you for standing up for his family and promised to help if you ever needed anything. He never said it out loud, but you were never a target of he or his brothers’ pranks again. 

It was in a whirlwind that George fell for you, and gesture by gesture you fell for him. You remained together through Umbridge’s tyranny and you supported him when he left the school to start his joke shop with Fred. You defied Umbridge up until the very end, calling her out on her misdeeds no matter how many times she scarred you with her pen. 

You clenched your fists, you could see the fading white scars your fists stretching as you did. The sound of the fireplace hissing brought you out of your thoughts. 

“They’re here!” George called to you. You cursed, levitating the hot dishes to the table, setting them on racks to keep them off the wood. 

“Smells amazing,” George kissed your temple. Your worries eased for a minute, George was here. That’s all you needed. Ginny was the first out of the fireplace, greeting you with a hug. Harry wasn’t far behind, a baby in his arms. Fred followed after, then Ron and Hermione. Bill and Fleur next, then Percy with a letter from Charlie apologizing for his inability to attend your dinner. One of the baby Ironbellys was sick and he was doing everything in his power to help. Molly and Arthur were the last of George’s family to arrive. Warm greetings were shared, and they took their seats around the table until only four seats were left. Two for you and George, and two for your parents. 

The fireplace hissed again, out stepped your father, holding the hand of your mother. She stepped out, your three-year-old brother in her arms, resting on top of her swollen belly. 

“Mom,” You grinned. You greeted your father with a hug, taking Ryan into your arms. “Dad, you remember George?” 

“Yes, the Weasley boy.” His voice was deep and cold like ice, but his eyes twinkled with humor. 

“You look lovely, dearest.” Your mother’s hand went to rest on her belly. Her voice reminded you of snowfall. Soft but commands the attention of the room. George tenderly took her arm and guided her to a seat, making sure she was comfortable. Molly was quick to introduce herself, asking when the baby was due. The sight made you smile. 

Your family was like ice and snow, but the Weasleys were fire, like candlelight and fireplaces. Warmth and comfort of the most primal form. You would think they would fight, but no. The fire melted away layers of ice and you saw your mother smiling and laughing with Molly and your father patiently listening to Arthur’s stories with guarded interest. Ryan was in Ginny’s lap, cooing and making faces at Teddy trying to get him to smile. 

Cider was passed around along with dinner plates One by one each dish was emptied and the families relaxed into their full bellies. 

As the night slowed and snow fell, you and George rose to stand at the end of the table. 

“I’m glad to see everyone getting on nicely.” You held George’s hand and leaned into him, “Because soon we will no longer be two families.” 

“I - we - wanted to tell you all in person that I’ve asked Y/n to marry me.” George beamed, “I can’t believe it’s taken me six years to figure out that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.” 

“I think I knew before you did,” Fred quipped, making you shoot him a faux annoyed look. 

“Anyway,” You continued, “We wanted to ask for the blessings of both families.” 

Molly and Arthur were quick to agree, congratulating both of you and saying how it was about time. Similar comments rose from the rest, but they were silenced as your father stood. 

“For years I looked down upon your family,” Your father began, “I was brought up to believe that being kind and friends with muggles and half-bloods was disgraceful and in turn so were blood traitors. I see today that I was wrong. In this family, I see nothing but the best kind of wizard and witch - the kind that takes care of others. If George is truly the one who makes my daughter happy, then I think I speak for both Lauranna and myself when I say, you have my blessing.” 

Cheers of agreement were shared around the room, mixed in with congratulations and promises. Ever so slowly the herd of Weasleys began to filter out, starting With Harry and Ginny because it was far past Teddy’s bedtime. Next was Hermione and Ron, and so on until only your parents and Ryan remained. 

You carefully handed the sleeping three-year-old to your father, as your mother bid George goodnight, welcoming him to the family with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. Your father, on the other hand, wished you goodnight with a kiss on the forehead, shaking George’s hand and then escorting your mother through the fireplace. 

“That went,” You paused, looking for the right word to say. 

“Well.” George finished for you. 

“Yes, it went well.” You smiled. 

“Well, Mrs. Y/l/n-Weasley, would you care to join me in bed?” His hazel eyes glittering with a joking innuendo. 

“We aren’t married yet.” You whispered. 

“I’m practicing.” He pecked your lips, “C’mon, dishes can wait for the morning.” 

“I love you.” 

“Me too.” 

“George!” 

“What?” He laughed, “I love you too.”

*  The Furies (or Erinyes, sing. Erinys) were creatures from Greek mythology who exacted divine retribution from those guilty of wrong-doing. Crimes which were especially likely to incur their wrath were those involving one’s family and anything related to oaths. (Source)

[sassycompanions]

When dreams ooze out of Reality When the moon phase changes I come out of the shadow on the wall, Cheerful and wicked When my eyes light up with green And mirrors exude poison I put ten streets in a row Following you

Your soul is in my hands Freezes like a mouse in cat paws Among the fog you won't recognize me And for years and centuries You'll forget the taste and colors and smells Of everything that is in the interweaving of days

You are sleeping and watching me in your dream I'm just a shadow on the wall for you It's so unwise for you and me To not believe in the power of paths When I was dead you were so glad You thought I won't ever come back But I sneaked out of a crack between the lines I picked this world like a rusty lock I never loved to bewitch, but I couldn’t do otherwise

When a rolled wool will become a stone Then vengeance will thicken in my blood And you’ll get bad news From winds and birds But you are a Master of Water and Grass You won't touch my head And I’ll fly in the plumage of an owl Not seeing any limits

Leaving you to remember How you burned and hung me Child of Anem* was dying laughing And I'll come back to you just to say: "You're so sinful to me So let's redeem at least a little part"

You are sleeping and watching me in your dream I'm just a shadow on the wall for you I hide in the air and moonlight Flying like a thin leaf And I don't feel sorry for you Steel is boiling in my blood Passion and vice are grinning in my soul And pain is dancing like a flock of motley magpies I never loved to resurrect, but I couldn’t do otherwise

When we stay together Not believing in me is your salvation But we'll sing a duet Funeral prayer for you Recognize me by these shining eyes 'Cause you killed me more than once But time will make us meet again In my witchcraft

A carnival of fallen leaves A sword is smiling carelessly Child of Anem forgives no offenses You're in my trap Your retribution is inevitable You know that, so you'll be killed

You are sleeping and watching me in your dream I'm just a shadow on the wall for you It's time to go outside So come out on the threshold Killing me hundreds of times You won't escape your death now 'Cause you're tired of anger and you're cold of fright So I'll give you one last lesson: I never loved killing, but I couldn’t do otherwise

I never loved to bewitch I never loved to resurrect I never loved to kill I never loved But I couldn’t do otherwise  ___________________

*Anem — a character from series of fantasy novels "Reflections of Eterna" by Vera Kamsha, God of Wind, one of four divine brothers who created a world Kertiana

[sparda3g]

Kimetsu no Yaiba Chapter 161 Review

Have you ever feel the rewarding sensation? I’m sure you have, but have you ever feel the pain and agony, hoping that there’s a kind payoff in the end? Well, Disney has done that multiple times, but that’s beside the point. The point is, this chapter nailed the satisfaction that we were hoping for. The thrilling battle isn’t over, but the serving of its reward is piling on nicely.

As badass it was for Inosuke to swear that he will send Doma straight to hell, I wasn’t expecting a reply towards the ideology of heaven and hell. It could have been seen as a filler, but this is quite fitting. Not only because it’s Doma, an Upper Moon 2 Demon, is the one to deny the ideal, but it fits the narrative of these characters. Doma doesn’t believe in it as he sees it as an excuse for divine punishment. I could imagine religious people finding this insulting and aggravating. Religious or not, that’s the point.

Doma is a predator that doesn’t care for morale if there’s really none to begin with. If you live your life without believing in consequences, let alone in the afterlife, what’s there to worry about? You don’t need to follow a religion to see his view is cruel and disturbing. He adds on that humans are pathetic. If everyone stop believing in hell, then no consequences will leave the weak in peril; forcing to stop altogether. That’s rather dark yet thoughtful of him; defined his character perfectly. I really do like Inosuke’s response. “I’ll create it for you,” what a badass reply. One way or another, he wants blood.

The action is great with increasing tension, though not what I expected. Despite Inosuke raging, he’s holding up pretty well. He uses Beast Breathing Tenth Fang: Whirling Fang to fan out the Freezing Clouds; nearly consuming some of its toxic. Kanao jumps in and still has good reflexes for defense. At one point, she almost got slash while trying to pull an attack. Pushed aside, but it could have been a lot worse. As good those parts were, the real thrill begins with a new danger ensue.

I wasn’t expecting Doma to call it end and decide to walk out since his time is over. I was dumbfounded to think he will just walk out and leave them heartbroken; not a sight for retribution. He’s so powerful, he let his Crystalline Divine Child, basically ice clone of himself, to take care of them. That’s not just showing how strong he is, that’s showing how he sees them: weak and waste of time. This demon has no limit on insults. I got a good chuckle with Inosuke laughing at the clone, only it was nearly as strong as the original. Not so funny now. The tension is now on stopping Doma from leaving, and for what it is, it is strikingly intense.

I didn’t know where the direction was heading, so I was completely absorb by it. When you think about it, it has a lot of possibilities if he does escape. Also, this series tends to have an unpredictable path, so I bought into the idea that he may escape, instead of feeling safe and unchallenged. The intensity gradually grows the closer Doma gets to the exit. It’s practically a time limit. Who knew exiting through a door could be this intense?

The action is engaging but gut-wrenching. After all the mockery and insults for Inosuke and Kanao, this is what they get? An unfulfilled vengeance? I already have one series with no redemption, I don’t need another. Well, Doma is nice enough to fill in the observation on why Inosuke haven’t consume to toxic. Part of me wanted to think the mangaka forgot about it; jokingly, of course. Really, it’s due to his sharply sensitive skins, which was a reference earlier when Tanjiro had a flashback. Good to know; now, stay and die.

The tension just gets crazier with every step away, literally. I’m here just pondering on how the hell they can stop him. Just when there’s a little hope on surviving, Doma has the nerve to create another ice doll. This is some kind of video games, where it decide to play incredibly cheap. You know, Sekiro style. In total, he made five ice dolls. That is broken as hell. Things got a lot worse when Inosuke starts taking bad damages. By this point, I was hoping for anyone to appear. It could be a damn crow; just anyone, stop that prick. The door opening panel sure got me on the edge; again, a simple door opening. In my childhood memory, Disney had its moments of rewarding sensation that made me cheery. The next scene remind me of said sensation.

The cliffhanger ends on a very satisfying note. The moment I see Doma melting, I begin to cheer uproariously. My cheer gets louder when Doma realizes the cause of it: Shinobu. That smile is incredibly earned. All of the past panels of hers made me sad; here, it made me glad. It’s worth noting that Kanao was shouting, “This is it!” This means all this time, she was waiting for this to happen. While the priority is to make him stay, the reason to stall time was for this. Holy crap; a plot twist. Could that mean the hand signal from Shinobu was about the poison than a warning? Bring on the next chapter!

This chapter was thrilling and satisfying. It was a heart racing event, but the payoff is so good. The action was gripping, the tension got me hooked, and the evaluation of Doma closing in to escape got me anxious. The paneling was well done to create the intensity. The cliffhanger had me floored with satisfaction, like finally making through the desert storm. Shinobu’s smile got me chills for excitement. I don’t know if this will handicap or end Doma, but he deserved all of it. Karma couldn’t be any kinder.

[unknowncrashingthroughthewindow]

[1] Ok so I've just finished the Ray Route for the first time w/o spoilers successfully! Thanks for answering all my nonsensical asks all throughout these 11 days. I'd thought I'd collect a few of my thoughts and put them here: (1) I have to say Saeran is now my favourite character. He's. Just a cool dude I guess (2) Cleansed Saeran is basically Edge Boi™ who dressed up for a job interview at Hot Topic. He tries to scare people but he fails poor boy (3) Ray is,,, kinda clingy I don't know man he

congratulations on reaching the finish line!! glad to talk to you over those chaotic 11 days! since you sent me these asks in parts, i’ll answer them accordingly under the cut!

1. saeran’s a GREAT dude he’s been through so much but hes so good and so strong and hes VERY GREAT n i have a very high fever so all my brain cells are bringing to the table is inane shouting and “ohoogughhug saeran good”

2. cleansed saeran as a phrase still dealt me 50 poison damage because i cannot Stand people yelling at me Ever because i am just a tiny creacher…..but its good that it didnt affect you too much!!

3. now ray’s character is really a Hit Or Miss and the way you view him is completely valid but its important to understand exactly where he’s coming from, especially in his own route. i think recognising why certain habits of his are unhealthy to himself and those around him, as well as recognising why he has them, is a crucial part of ray’s route (although you probably know that already!) so all im saying is its very good to call him out for his unhealthy habits! but please try to be nice to him ^^;;

4. its probably not that funny but the entire time v’s telling rika how much he still loves her he looks like he’s passing the fattest kidney stone so judging by that im pretty sure they’re gonna burn like saeran’s house :/ 

5. rika is designed to be a very morally ambiguous and morally provocative character, and the way someone perceives her is almost always entirely dependent on their own experiences, which is why i believe that you’re in no way wrong whether you like her or don’t like her

personally i have a lot of Thoughts on rika that i might discuss in detail sometime later, but the general gist of it is Good Intentions, Bad Actions. everything she’s done has been under a twisted conception of love, and the moment she started involving other people she became exempt from being easily excused for her actions, but i think her desire to be a good person means that she has the potential to find a kind of love that’s not destructive to herself or others, and i’d like to hold her responsible for self recovery more than self retribution (of course then my argument brings up the whole “then no criminal would actually be a criminal” issue and yeah this whole debacle is messy and deliberately situational but since i’m not the one in charge of Rika’s Divine Ruling, i dont reckon there’s any point to thinking about it too much…… im just gonna go with my gut sjhgckf)

6. if they kill seven im gonna. well im. im just gonna cry BUT considering they brought ray back from the dead in the most arbitrary way in v’s ae im gonna assume seven’s chances are pretty fucking good (to be a bit more exact, you still get a few of seven’s thoughts on day 10 and one response where youre like “he might be playing around with the kidnapper’s wits!” gets a heart from him so if he’s alive enough to give you kudos for a comment he can’t even see then im gonna hope he’s alive enough to survive the ae)

7. v’s ae took a HECK of a lotta time but im assuming that’s because they had to lay out a HECK of a lotta foundations for this new style of ae, so ray’s shouldn’t take as long! maybe sometime near the middle/end of this year? its good to try be patient but if youre frustrated you cannn engage in the fandom annnndddd…….talk to……meeeee JHVBDGCVKFGJHJ im ALWAYS up for ray route talk >:3

8. (you didnt have point 8 but you do now) i really hope you 1) enjoyed the route!! and 2) get some Good Sleep im sending you sleepy vibbbbeess uwu

[little-witch-babiie]

Dude, some Christians are fucking insane. Obviously not all of them, I know a lot of really good Christian people who are really understanding and accepting, but I legit just read a summary of a Christian podcast and it literally was about “planned parenthood continues its evil agenda & young women are lured to the occult and witchcraft” like????? God I’m so glad I’m not around toxic Christians anymore!!!! I grew up in a Christian household, forced to go to church every Sunday, and these people!!!! Are insane!!! Like they seem all nice but??? I literally never want to go back to that church as a whole what does that say??? Like I had sex with my partner after us being together for over two years, we were both just months shy of being 18 and we were basically engaged and my grandfather was like “what would the people at church think if they knew!!” Like??? “They’d be so disappointed in you... didnt you learn anything in your princess classes??” Which yes we’re a real thing that my grandfather had me attend every Wednesday for like, two months. It had nothing to do with sexuality or virginity. It was about having a healthy mind and body and loving yourself. There was not a single word said about sex in the entire time I was in that “class” and one of my family friends told her church friends that she kissed a boy and they??? Shunned her??? They literally told her she was GOING TO HELL!!!! Like why are they like this? They’re just so toxic??? Anyone who is different from them in any way is supposedly going to hell??? Like um no... honey... boo... you can’t twist your “sacred word” like that bc if you do you’re the one who’s gonna gain divine retribution from the god you believe in because you’re literally doing 80% of the shit he said u aren’t supposed to do because he won’t put up with that shit??? Why are there so many hypocrites following “cristianity” as it is now??? Sorry i just had to rant because it’s just???? It doesn’t make sense to me to not be loving and accepting of everyone who isn’t causing actual harm??? Idk man

[utopianatolia]

Kitaplar...

253) Scott Fitzgerald - The Great Gatsby

It came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild Unknown man

Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope

Each personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures than there was something gorgeous about him some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life if he were related to one of those intricate machines that's registered earthquakes that thousand miles away This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the creative temperament

After my father and a little later I participated in that delayed Toeutonic migration known as the Great War I enjoyed the counter raid so throoughly  that I came back Restless instead of being to warm center of the world the middle west now seem like The ragged edge of the universe so I decided to go east and learn the bones business

She told me it was a girl and so I turned my head away and wept all right I said I'm glad it's a girl and I hope she will be a fool that's the best thing at your job in this world a beautiful little fool

I married him because I thought he was a gentleman she said finally I thought he knew something about breeding but he wasn't fit to lick my shoe you are crazy about him for a while said Catherine

Yet high over the city  our line of yellow Windows must have contributed their share of human secrecy to he casual watcher  in the darkening streets  and I was him too looking up and wondering I was within and without simultaneously  enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life

Somebody told me they thought he killed a man once, the three mr. mumbles that bent  forward and listens eagerly I don't think it's so much that argued Lucille skeptically its more that he was a German spy during the war in

I heard that from a man who knew all about him grew up with him in Germany he assured us positively.oh no said the first girl it couldn't be that because he was in the American Army during the war as our credulity switched back to her she leans forward with enthusiasm you look at him  sometimes when he thinks nobody looking at him I ll bethe killed a man

He smiled understandingly much more than understaningly. it was one of those rare Smiles with a quality of Eternal reassurance in it that you may come across four or five times in life. it's faced or seem to face the whole external world for an instant and then concentrate on you with an Irresistible prejudice in your favor ,t understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself and assured you at your best it had precisely the impression of you that at your best you hoped to convey.Precisely at that point it's vanished and I was looking at an elegant young roughneck a year or two over 30 whose elaborate formality of speech just missed being absurd sometime before he introduced himself I will got a strong impression that he was picking these words with care

So he was aware of the bizarre accusations that flovered conversation in his halls. I will tell you the God's truth is right hand suddenly ordered divine retribution stand byI am the son of some wealthy  people in the middle west all that now I was brought up in America but educated in Oxford. l because all my ancestors have been educated  there for many years its a family tradition.he looks at me sideways and I Knew why Jordan Baker had believed He was lying he hurried the phrase educated at oxford or swallowed it or chokes on it as though it had bothered him before and with this doubt his whole statement felt pieces and I wondered if there wasn't something a little sinister  about him after all

then came the war old sport.it was a great relief and I tried very hard to die but I seemed to bear and Enchanted life I acceptedt the commission as first lieutenant to machine gun detachments so far forward that there was a half-mile gap on either side of us Infantry advance. we stayed there  two days and two nights 130 men with 16 Lewis guns  and when the infantry came up at last they found the Insignia of 3 German divisions among the piles of dead. I was promoted to be a major and every Allied government give me a decoration even Montenegro down on the Adriatic Sea

Yes his eyes went  over it and every arced door  square Tower it took me just three years to earn the money that bought it I thought you inherit your money I did oldl sport he said automatically but I lost most of it in the Big panic the Panic of the war I think he hardly knew what he was saying for when I asked him what is it that's my Affair before he realizes that it wasn't an appropriate reply

one thing is sure issue and nothing is surer the rich get richer and the poor get children in the meantime in between time

his heart beat faster and faster is Daisy's white  face came up to his own.he knew that when he kissed this girl and forever wed his unutterable  Visions to her perishable breath his mind  woud never romp again like the mind of God so he waited listening for a moment longer to the tuningfork work that had been struck upon a star then he kissed her at his lips touch she blossomed for him like a flower at the Incarnation was complete

She has got an Indiscreet voice I remarked. it's full of I hesitated her voice is full of money he said suddenly that was it I would never understood before it does full of money that's all in exhaustible charm that Rose and fell in The jingle of it the cymbals’ song of it high in a white Palace the Golden Girl

Nowadays people Begin by sneering at Family Life and family institutions and next they  will throw everything overboard and have intermarriage between black and white

She never loved you do you hear she only married you because I was poor and she was tired of waiting for me it was a terrible mistake but in her heart she never loved anyone except me

My memory goes back to when first I met him he said young major just out of the army and covered over with medals he got in the war.he was so hard up he had to keep on wearing his uniform because he couldn't buy some regular clothes first time I saw him was when he come into winebrenners poolroom at 43rd Street and ask for a job.He had not eat anything for a couple of days come on and have lunch with me I said.she ate more than $4 worth of food in half an hour did you start him in business?  starting I made him I raised him up out of nothing right out of the gutters i saw  right away he was a fine appearing gentlemanly young man and then he told me he was an Oxford I knew I could using good I got him to join up in the American Legion and used to stand high there. right off he did some work for a client of mine up to Albany . we were so thick  like that in everything he held  up two bolbous s fingers always together

I see now that this has been a story of the West after all Tom Gatsby Daisy and Jordan and I w're all westerners and perhaps we possessed some deficiency in common  which made us subtly adaptable to Eastern life

[titusreno]

Chapter Two

Daylun

 Dear Jenny

I hope you can figure out how to unencrypt this. I’m using a new glitchcode since I think the old one was too easy to crack. I believe in you, though, and if you’re reading this I guess it’s all fine. Still using some code words in this just in case someone intercepts this and is as smart as you.

I know I left you in the lurch last time worrying about me. I’m sorry I made you panic. It turns out that the whipsnitches didn’t get footage of me crossing the fence after all. I don’t know if the circuit for the cameras broke or if it’s just spotty or someone was asleep, but the write-up they served me when I finally got in there was some bogus smalltime stuff about me taking too many pee breaks when I’m on the burner line. They know I’m doing some kind of other thing, but they didn’t have any data on me. They cited my wristcuff data and acted all high and mighty about the fact that they know what I’m doing with the wristcuff on, which means they don’t know I figured out how to take it off and trick the sensors. So, good news. Unless they’re bluffing. But I don’t think flatface bosses know how to bluff, or would bluff, or any of that stuff. They say whatever they think to us because they think we’re like droneboys or animals. You know the tone they have.

They have us where they want us, but in some ways it’s better than it was before the worm because even the higher management knows they also need us. There’s piggos here, but only some. You know how I said it was like half-staff? Now it’s even less. We’re one-third what it used to be when we were letlets. They sent the rest to the facilities to do tests or buried them when they got too sick, and now there’s areas of the burner line that only have one girl to a station. They need every single able worker, even a troublemaking firestarter like me, or they would have bumped me into the burner the first day here after they shipped me back from Auxie. I’ve pulled so much shit they know about and more they don’t, but I’m still walking and breathing and they’re still feeding me pigeon peas. They’re worried that if too many of us die then all the garbage is going to pile up and the maintenance teams on the deep pipelines are going to fall behind. They know that they can’t keep this up forever and they’re going to take us all out before the end, chew us up and spit us out dead into the desert, but they want to keep churning as long as they can. They like their air conditioning.

That said, ask your alien dudes or whatever to protect my ass on the line out here, because if you get bonked it’s still curtains. Hanolt got her leg crushed by a dronetruck yesterday near the firetrench and I haven’t seen her since. That was it for her and she was almost the last one I knew from letlet days. Everyone still here is delinquents like me or oldies who got infected after they were grown or letlets too fucked up or irregular or unlucky to get sent to be tested on. Everyone we knew who stayed behind is dead now. There’s trucks of livestock carcasses coming in every day now that the Montana slaughterhouses finally caught the worm, and we’re having to bury them all in the flatlands. As soon as anyone gets headaches too bad or starts seizing on the workfloor and a droneboy sees? They’re out under the Arizona moon with the rest of the pigskulls. So far my headaches come about once a month, so I’m good in the honeyhive for a little longer, but it’s not gonna be too long even best case. Which is why I’m working on the oatmeal so much.

Oatmeal is maybe possible in the next few months. More on that in another note because I don’t think I trust this encryption software yet. But the fence jump paid off. I talked to some breakfasters. They’re flat but cool. If you want the deets, you and Nooty might even be able to help me.

Lovelove

Daylun

 Dear Jenny

This one is a different code again.

Deets on oatmeal: two flats met me outside the line. They’re doctors. They went back and forth with me a bunch using these little textbots that write on surfaces in ink that biodegrades 30 seconds after it gets printed. They have some money, or some support. I don’t know where from. They’re supposedly escapees from the pits near Tacoma who have been working in the mountains in the north somewhere. They don’t tell me too much yet about them. But they are doctors. They’ve rescued two of the injured piggos. They said they couldn’t save Hanolt but according to them Lup is still alive. They say they’ve been laying tripwires around the fence that might be able to disable the power for the whole facility if they can generate a surge, but they need someone on the inside. I’m that person. I have to get at least a hundred of us on board for them to act. I have a month before they come back. Then we’ll have to act before April. By then it’ll be too hot. So I’m starting to move. They gave me some tools. They also know I have a contact at Auxie, and that made them very interested. I dangled it a little. They don’t know anything else. But I think they want to try and develop a cure to rival Auxie’s pharma stuff. On their end they said there’s rumors that a test study on piggos is coming soon for Auxie and it might be a real med this time. So I guess keep an ear to the ground and if you get any drugs send a couple samples over to me. If I’m still here.

Your sick revolution bb

Daylun

 Dear Jenny

I’m glad you got the encryption stuff figured out.

About what you wrote last time--I gotta say, the alien savior talk is weirding me out a lot. That line from your last letter about the vision where they spoke to you and said all that crazy stuff about the omen birds and the light and the mountain—I mean, it’s just a dream, right? It’s a cool dream, but it’s just your brain doing REM sleep.

You’re like, the smartest person I know, and you’ve never talked like that before, and when I read your letter I got really mad for a while. I’m not mad now, but I need to let you know that the way you sounded just isn’t you. You sound woowoo. Like, crystal palace in the sky, peyote woo woo. Okay maybe I am mad.

Oatmeal isn’t a trick. They’re not a trick. They have shit up their sleeves and I don’t trust them but it’s not a trick and they’re my best shot right now. If anything is tricking you it’s your own brain on too much K-po. It’s just potassium. It just messes with the worm in your gut and makes it do chemicals. That’s all.

“The dust falls from the birds and blacks out the last stars of the evil age?” “The new birth of the planet will come when the heaven opens and the star children emerge from the gulch of death”? Like, T.S Eliot much? Candyland meets some yogi from Neodetroit? Which, meditation is my thing, you know. But social movements for progress based on weird cults always bite the dust. Magic makes it harder to talk to people about the real world and what’s wrong with it. And there’s a lot wrong in the world. Humans enslaved each other and fought wars and broke democracies down into a system where only the businesses and rich people can afford to live. And then, after they did all that, and the soft drink companies were building the roads and the companies owned the internet and all the fish died and the oceans rose and there were genocides and genocides and genocides, humans made us. They made a new kind of subhuman to do work for them who they were allowed to own. They made us from the animals they ate. We’re chattel slaves, baby, and they bred our mothers’ mothers’ to make us workers and medical subjects and inject us until we die. And the worm isn’t divine retribution on them, because it’s got us too and it’s gonna kill us just as hard as it’s gonna kill them. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just one more shitty thing to happen on this planet. It might be the last shitty thing, but that doesn’t mean it’s got all kinds of cosmic significance or is part of a conscious design. And nothing is gonna save us from this thing but us. If we want to win and live, we have to set the fires ourselves.

Which I can do. And I know you can do it too. I believe in it so much my heart hurts when I think it. You and me and Titus are the start, but we’re not the end. We’re all strong enough for this. We have to believe in ourselves and the pigs around us. There’s no other way forward. There’s nobody but us. There’s no alien savior.

I’m getting all manifesto. Sorry.

Look, Jamjam, even when I’m mad you’re the fucking girl of my dreams and I will follow you until the end of time, which I think we both know is coming pretty damn soon unless some action is taken. And we’re on the same page in so many ways. Remember the roses? Remember the punchcard and orange tango? Those are my best memories. They’re what keeps me going here when I hear Hanolt screaming and see her leg flattened into the asphalt or have to lob a truckload of rotten pig carcass into the desert pits.

I want to live with you in a world without fear where we can be healthy and live in a house somewhere and own something of our own and be safe and free. I dream every single morning about you when I’m at the burner station and fall asleep every night singing the song you wrote me. I think about your amazing silky gemstone ambery red cool-ass hair and your arms and your awesome belly and the way your boobs look in the sunlight in December. I want to shower you in big sloppy kisses and protect you and raise genetically impossible mutant babies with you and build a house in the North where it gets cold still and learn to sew and make some clothes and grow our own food. I want us to shoot enemies together and haul shit and break shit and build shit. I am yours, and everything I ever do or make is yours forever. But I’m going to fight you on this one.

I know you say the alien stuff is not magic, but it sounds like magic, and you said yourself it doesn’t make any sense. I know it’s keeping you emotionally grounded and semi-sane, which I guess is the main thing for now. I know Auxie is nuts and a half. And if this is like, helping, then I guess that’s that. But it’s never going to be the center of what my vision is about.

Before you start telling me about all the mysteries I don’t know—look, I know the purple dudes are real. I’ve seen the pics and I know the mummy that came on the ship is real and I’m glad that the Auxie people finally told everyone about it after hiding it all that time. But this stuff about them coming to Earth to save us? And knowing the piggos are oppressed and wanting to extend the light down and blast the world over and make it new, and mend the wormdamage? It makes me feel weird. I don’t think you’re insane, but you’re leaning into this and I think it’s not great.

I know it’s a really visceral, intense idea and I know you’ve been having visions about it. I get why it feels good. And I mean, it would be cool if there were something true in it. I think maybe there is some kind of frequency or something we could hear extraterrestrial civilizations on if we had the technology, and maybe your brain sort of subconsciously knows that and is telling you to find a way to contact them. I think you’re having a real experience and then your brain is interpreting it.

I’m sorry this letter is so aggro. It just kind of happened. It’s because I feel so much. I barely talk to people day to day. We don’t have a lot of time to socialize. So when I’m writing everything I think spills out into the text feed. I hope you think about this, but like, you know I love you no matter what, right? Even if this gets way more intense and you become some supervillain cult leader, I think I’ll still love you. And I trust you won’t be evil, also. You’re inherently good, so vividly and cosmically good that if I believed aliens were contacting the earth it would make sense that you would be the person they’d go for. I trust you. I can’t say that enough. I guess as someone who isn’t there, and also someone who can’t see what you see, I just feel like it’s a false kind of hope. I say that as someone who loves you. I want us to have faith in US. We’re what we’ve got to work with.

I want to work on this with you.

Love

Daylun

 Dear Jenny

I love you too. I love you so much. I miss you so much.

maybe it’s real and I’m dumb. But I get worried when it’s all you talk about in your letters. Like, the scientists that did the tests on that mummy said it’d been floating around for probably seven thousand years in space, rocketing along from wherever all dehydrated with all those dormant wormspores. The planet the dude came from could be anywhere. We don’t even know if the planet exists anymore. It could be like Mars and be all dead. And even if they do exist and they’re not even more messed up than flatface boyos, and they haven’t ruined their oceans with oil and destroyed each other with wars and enslaved people or whatever, they’re a really, really long ways away.

Where I am, stuff is moving. There’s five piggos into oatmeal in my building. We’re moving on this. Let me know if you want to help. There’s some stuff we need, small stuff that would help. It’d be expensive on your end but I think you could swing it with help if you tried. But I won’t drag you into it unless you want to. Let me know.

Love you

Daylun

[fandomsfeelsandfanfics]

Party At the Potters/// James Sirius Potter II x Reader

A/N: Update: I’m actually getting a lot of these done and I’m incredibly surprised. I know I keep talking about it and I’m super sorry but I’m just really excited. This one was originally one of my favs so i hope you guys like it. Enjoy!

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     “Hey (Y/N).” You were on your way back to your dorm when you felt someone put their arm around your shoulder. You didn’t even have to look at him to know it was James. 

    “Hello James.”

    “So Halloween’s this weekend and my family’s having this annual Halloween party and I was wondering if you wanted to come.” You looked up into his expectant hazel eyes. 

    “Thanks for inviting me but I was actually thinking about-”

    “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt but let me rephrase that. I kinda really need you to come because my family kinda thinks we’re dating and I’ll look like a huge idiot if you don’t show.” You stopped walking. His arm fell away quickly and you turned towards them. 

    “Sorry James, I must be missing something. Why exactly does your family think we’re dating?” 

    “Okay okay so I kinda told my parents a long time ago that I had a girlfriend and they believed me of course. They never asked for a name but then randomly one day Lily said it was you because I guess she’s seen us hang out a lot and I didn’t know what to say so I just said it was true.” You stared at him in disbelief. You laughed. 

    “You are a huge idiot.” You continued forward and he followed. 

    “(Y/N), please.” You were all too prepared to tell him to piss off when suddenly an idea struck you. 

    “You know what? Why not? I’ll go.” He pumped his fist in the air in victory. “Under one condition.” 

    “You name it, I’ll do it.” 

    “All you’ve got to do is let me decide our costume.” Easy enough, or so James thought. 

    “Done.”

     James stood in the mirror trying to adjust the costume. Every angle he looked at it got worse. There was another bang on the door. 

   “Hurry up James, we haven't got all night,” Teddy yelled from the hall/ 

   “I’m doin my best alright!” 

    James turned his attention back to the mirror. Teddy knocked once more before opening the door. James stood there unable to hide. Teddy stared at him not knowing what to say. James was wearing a bright red leotard with feathers lining the hips and wings on the back. Teddy didn’t quite know how to react. 

    “Um...okay is this just like....is this how you’d like to dress because if it is then I completely-” 

    “This wasn’t my choice Teddy. (Y/N)’s trying to get back at me for lying about dating her.” Teddy burst out laughing. 

    “That’s a relief. Geez man this has got to be some kind of divine retribution. All those years of checking out chick’s arse’s and now yours is on display, this is perfect.” James flipped him off and stepped out of the room. Just as he entered the hallway he heard a knock at the door. He spotted his mom going to answer it. 

   “I’ve got it.” He walked in front of her and her eyes went wide. 

   “James what are you-” He looked back at her. 

   “It’s revenge mom. Not a choice.” He opened the door. You stood on the other side dressed as Dumbledore, beard and all. Even with the beard hiding your mouth he knew you were smiling. 

    “Yeah, I bet you think that’s hilarious.” 

    “Oh I definitely do.” You stepped past him in the living room. 

   “If you wanted to be a couples costume I could’ve been McGonagall. That would’ve been way funnier.” 

   “For you maybe.” You turned towards Ginny. “Hi Mrs. Potter, I’m-” 

   “(Y/N). Sorry I’m just really excited to meet you. James talks about you so often I just have to see what all of the craze is about.” You looked up at him.

    “Oh okay, that’s a stretch. I don’t even talk about her that often-”

    “Sometimes, I wish I could just tape his bloody mouth, not that i don’t love hearing about you but wow.” 

   “That’s enough!” James grabbed your arm and pulled you into the dinning room. You both sat down next to each other at the empty table. The room was silent for a while until you broke the silence. 

    “You talk about me?” James became even redder than he had been in the living room.

    “No!” Everyone else flooded into the dining room sitting around the table. When everyone finally arrived, James stood up. 

    “As you all know this is my....” He cleared his throat. “Girlfriend. (Y/N).” It didn't sound completely unnatural when he said it which surprised you. “Yeah, so I’m really glad she could come and I just really hope we can all have a nice night and you can all be not embarrassing for just one-” Suddenly, there was a arg at the end of the table. 

    You all turned to see Harry with his head lying on the table. Everyone gasped besides James who sighed. “It seems there’s been a murder,” Ginny announced. You looked around the table and then your eyes feel on James’. He gave you a look that read ‘yes this is really happening’. 

    “Mom, I thought we agreed-” 

    “Sorry honey, murderers don’t care about those types of things and as it seems  there is one among us.” Everyone gazed around the table. James sunk further into his chair. 

    “Just don’t embarrass me for one damn night, that’s all I ask,” James mumbled. 

    “As usual there will be four locations where you can look. The attic, where the victim was last seen. The bedroom where the victim has recently slept along with the attached bathroom. The dining room which is where the body was found and last but not least the kitchen, where witnesses spotted a suspect.” You smiled realizing just what was going on.

    “You are to determine three things. 1. The murder. 2. The motive. 3. The cause of death/weapon. That’s all. You have one hour to investigate. Your hour starts now.”

    James leaned against the wall, watching you look for clues. You crouched down on the ground with your flashlight looking for any type of clue. 

    “I’m sorry about all this. I begged my mom not to do this but she gets really into the whole Halloween thing. I know it’s lame.” You got back up and walked over to him. 

    “Please, this is a thousand times better than anything I’ve ever done for Halloween. It’s so much fun. However, it could possibly be more fun if you actually helped.” He sighed and turned his flashlight on. 

    “This is ridiculous.”

    “Be quiet and keep looking.” You moved on from where you were to one of the corners in the room. It was empty but as you shined your flashlight on it you thought you saw some odd sort of glimmer. You reached into the corner and felt your hands wrap around some soft material. It was an invisibility cloak. 

    “James look.” You held the cloak up to him. 

    “What the hell? That’s mine.” Your hand lowered to your side. 

     “James...was it you?” 

    “No! I barely want to partake in this at all, trust me I’m not that engaged in this thing.” He grabbed it. 

    “Then who took it.” He raised it up to eye level. 

    “Someone who had the key to my trunk.” He threw it back into the corner. “I didn’t think anyone knew where I kept the key.” 

     “This means whoever killed your dad was watching him.” James looked up at you. One clue down. 

     Once the bedroom was finally empty you and James entered. He looked through the bedroom while you headed to the bathroom. You looked in the medicine cabinet and then under the sink. Nothing looked out of place. You looked again and then once more but there was nothing. 

    James stood in the doorway. “I’ve got nothing.” 

    “Me neither.” You stood up in defeat. “Maybe this was just something to throw us off.” James didn’t look satisfied with that. 

    “That doesn’t sound like mom.” You left the bathroom to let James look at it. Maybe he could find something that you couldn’t see. You return to the bedroom. You had never been in there but nothing looked to strange. You peered under the bed. It was completely empty. 

    You got back up and accidentally hit your head on the bedside table. “Shit,” you winced. You rubbed the top of your head, closing your eyes from the pain. You felt a gentle hand on top of yours. 

    “Are you alright?” James’ eyes were full of worry. 

    “Yeah, yeah. I just bumped into this.” You looked over at it. “What’s this anyways?” 

    “Just the nightstand. It’s always locked so-” Your eyes panned down. The very last drawer was open just a smidge. It wouldn’t have even been noticeable if you hadn’t been searching. 

    “What about this one?” You pulled it open and James leaned in. 

    “That’s weird.” The bottom drawer was full of books. High level magic books that you had never seen before. James pulled out one of them. 

    “Oh man! I bet they wouldn’t even allow this stuff in stuff in the forbidden section in the library.” 

    “Focus.” You picked up an all black one that felt like dragon skin. It was clearly a Dark Arts book. You flipped through it. You landed on a section where there were a few pages missing. 

    “Bingo.” 

    “There’s some missing in this one too.” You looked over at him. 

    “I think we’ve found our cause of death.” 

     You picked up the autopsy report. “ ‘Nothing of note physically wrong.’ Just like we thought, that sounds like magic.” The “body” had wasn’t there anymore. All that was left was the cup he was drinking out of and the autopsy report. 

     “So we’ll go with cause of death: dark arts spell .” You nodded. “We’ve still got suspect and motive to figure out.” You sat the report back down. 

    “Yeah, I haven’t gotten around to that yet.” 

    “We’ve still got another room, it’ll be fine.”

    “Mhmm. I think we’ve got a fairly good shot at getting this right.” You looked down at the report one more time. You felt James’ eyes on you and slowly met his gaze. “It’s not polite to stare, Potter.” He laughed quietly. 

    “Sorry, I was just thinking...thanks for coming. I know I shouldn’t have told them we were dating but I’m glad you decided to come.” You stepped towards him and tugged at his feathers. 

    “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

    “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t. Seriously though, I’ve had a great time tonight and I hope you have as well.” You suddenly became very aware of how close you were. You were so close to him that every time one of you took a breath in you almost touched. 

    “I’m having a great time.” And it would only get better. James moved closer and your lips connected. Or at least they almost did. James pulled back as soon as he came into contact with your fake beard. He laughed. 

    “Sorry.” James pulled the beard down to so that it wasn’t covering your lips. 

    “Much better.” The kitchen door flew open and Albus took a step out. You scrambled away from each other. 

    “Uh...” He looked between the two of you. “I’m done in there, it’s all yours.” 

    “Thanks, Al.” James ran his hand through his hair nervously. Albus left the room without another word. As soon as you entered the kitchen James made a b-line for the pantry. 

    “Where are you going?” He scavenged through the pantry. 

    “The book I had with the pages taken out was a potions book so I figured this must have something to do with potions of some sort. Yes! Look at this.” You joined him, trying to see what he was looking for. 

    “Dad was poisoned,” James exclaimed.

    You shook your head. “All of the ingredient that could be used to make a good poison are still here.” He reached forward and picked up and empty jar. 

    “Yeah but all of the bezoar is gone. Whoever did it made sure that there could be no cure antidote. My dad always makes sure to keep a bezoar around, always. This is no coincidence.” James picked you up and spun you around. “We’ve done it.” He sat you back down and gazed into your eyes. 

    You knew he was going to kiss you again or you hoped he would. Suddenly, Ginny’s voice rang throughout the room. “Your hour is up. Go back to your rooms, you have ten minutes to come up with a final result.” 

    You followed James back to his room and paced next to his bed while he closed the door. You took off your hat. “It had to be someone who had access to your trunk. You said it was locked, who knew where the key was besides you?” He sat down on his bed.

    “I didn’t think anyone did. I keep it secret cause I don’t want anyone going through my stuff. Albus is so quiet and observant, he picks up on things so it wouldn’t be hard for him to figure it out. It wouldn’t be that hard for Lily either, she’s so small and sneaky you barely notice she’s there half the time.” You thought about all of that for a moment. It didn’t really get you anywhere. 

    “The book was also kept in a locked space so the same thing applies for finding the key to that. There were dark arts books in there which is pretty straight forward. We still haven’t got motive.” 

    “We’ve barely got anything. All we have is some good guesses.” He was right. This whole thing was much more frustrating than you had originally thought. You had found all of the clues yet each and every one of them led to a dead end. 

    “Let’s just go with Albus. He’s clever and has a better understanding of these types of things so it wouldn’t have been that hard for him to have done it.” 

   “Motive?” 

   “I haven’t got one.” You sat down next to him, putting your head in your hands. 

   “We really did good though.” James placed his hand gently on your knee. There was a long moment where silence filled the room. “Hey, is it weird how incredibly hot I find you even in a beard?” You burst out laughing. 

    “Seriously, I may have some sort of issue.” 

    “You’re ridiculous.” He leaned closer to you casually. 

    “We’ve still got a few minutes in here alone. We could...” He trailed off, letting the sentence hang in the air. He leaned in even more. Just as he was about to close the gap between you, you stood up.

    “Or we could get down to the dining room.” He fake pouted. You held your hand out to him and he took it. You led him out of the room and into the dining room. 

    It seemed like everyone else had the same idea because they were all already there. They all looked confident in themselves. Their gaze drifted around the room from person to person, accusingly. 

    Ginny smiled. “I was just about to call you two down. Now that everyone is here, are you guys ready to get started? I will admit, this one was a bit harder.” 

    “Mom! Can I go first,” Lily asked. Ginny nodded at her. She got to her feet. “Alright so at first I didn’t know at all but now I think I do. It was James. I found his cloak that dad gave him and he’s always trying to sneak books like that out of the forbidden section so it had to have been him.” 

    “How’d he do it?” 

    “Some spell, I dunno.” 

    “Do you know why?” She shook her head. “Alright. Thanks dear. Albus, you next.” Albus stood up. 

    “It was you mom. You’re the one who knows where everything is around here. It’s your house after all. You probably found the key too get into James’ case and already knew where the key to the beside table was. You must’ve cast some kind of very subtle spell but I don’t know which. The motive is something I haven’t figured out.” 

    “Very nice. Teddy?” Teddy cleared his throat. 

    “It was obviously Albus. You’re always sneaking around the house, who knows what kind of keys you’ve found. He did it because he was tired of his father putting James before him, which is evident in him stealing the cloak. I don’t know how he did it though.” Ginny nodded along. Finally, she gazed over at the two of you. 

    “Your turn.” As everyone talked you thought more about what you had found. Your mind was leaning in a slightly different direction. You didn’t know if it was right but maybe....

    You both stood up. You looked at each other nervously. James was the first to speak. “We think it was A-”

    “It was Teddy,” you interrupted. James looked at you in confusion. “It all makes sense now. Okay so we first thought it was Albus because he’s observant and smart he probably could’ve found the keys right? But that’s a lot of effort and a lot of chance luck. Teddy, however wouldn’t have needed a key. He’s 17 he could’ve just cast Alohomora and both would’ve unlocked.” James looked very impressed. 

    “He killed him with a poison which we knew because despite all of the ingredients needed to make one being in tact all of the bezoar had come up missing. So Teddy was clearly trying to make sure that he couldn’t be saved. Now the motive...we don’t know.” 

    “Actually, I think I might,” James chimed in. You looked at him in surprise. “It’s something I’ve been working out in my head. Dad doesn’t keep Dark Arts books in the house, he doesn’t want us anywhere near them, he keeps them all in his office. So those books couldn’t have been his. And why rip pages out of the book of someone your going to murder that has information about why you’re going to do it? They’d notice. There are better ways to go about it unless you don’t have much time and it wasn’t your book anyways. I think Dad took away Teddy’s dark arts books away and he wasn’t too happy about it.” 

    You both sat down. You tried to look like you had expected it to go that well but that wasn’t even close to the truth. You were so excited about how you had worked together and you thought you had cracked the case. You had your eyes fixed on Ginny ready to hear the results. 

    “One of you was right.” She gazed around the table. “And it was...James and (Y/N).” James grabbed you and pulled you into a tight hug. 

    “We did it,” he shouted. You hugged hm back with as much force. 

    “We did.” You closed your eyes savoring the hug. 

BONUS:

   Teddy and you were the last one left downstairs. “Good job, figuring it out. It was super hard.” 

    “Well, I had James with me and he was a huge help.” Teddy smiled at you kindly. 

    “I’m glad you made it. I know James was super excited to have you here tonight. You probably already know but he’s like super into you.” You were a bit surprised by this but didn’t let it show. 

    “I don’t know about that. James is James ya know. I only came cause I didn’t want him to get caught in his stupid lie.” Teddy’s eyebrow went up. 

    “What lie?” 

    “You know, he told all of you guys he was dating me.” Teddy looked confused. “He did tell you guys that right?” 

    “I don’t think I know what you’re talking about but have a great night.” He disappeared up the stairs and James almost immediately took his place. 

    “Here’s your hat, I couldn’t find it for the life of me.” You took it out of his hands. He slipped his hands in his pockets. “So...”

    “You didn’t tell them we were dating.” He looked confused. 

    “What?” 

    “You said you told your family we were dating but that’s not trie at all. You lied. I think you lied just to get me here.” His face got red. 

    “I don’t...I don’t know what you mean.” You pulled your fake beard down and in one quick movement, kissed him. 

    “Just for the record I would’ve came anyways.” He gave you a goofy smile. He leaned in to kiss you again but at the last minute you turned your head so he kissed you on the cheek. "Goodnight James, and thank you for tonight.” 

    “Yeah...um...yeah anytime.” He was clearly flustered. He ran his hand through his hair once again and you could tell he was nervous. You laughed. 

    “Bye James.”

[talkativelock]

1 for Toshinko?

#1 - soulmates au (I hope you don’t mind but I used the same soulmates au that I did for this ficlet because I have Feelings about that AU)

Inko often gets told a lot of terrible things because she didn’t marry her soulmate.

She’s had people tell her that her son’s quirklessness is because he isn’t the child of a pair of soulmates. They tell her that her husbands death was some kind of divine retribution for cheating on his soulmate with her. Inko does her best not to let it get to her.

The thing is, actually finding your soulmate isn’t that likely. You have to see your soulmate’s soul-print in person to recognize it as your own hand-print and touch it yourself to cement the bond. Inko never saw the point in waiting around for something that probably wouldn’t happen. Most people go on long trips across the world looking for their soulmates and some still never find them but Inko has never had that kind of money or time.

Instead Inko met a like-minded person in Hisashi and settled. They loved each other in their own way, nothing like the earth shattering love that soulmates are said to share but it was still love. Hisashi gave her Izuku, the best thing to ever happen to her. When she was pregnant everyone told her that he wouldn’t have a soul-print or a soul but he came into the world with a hand-print spanning his collarbone.

Inko’s soul-print is on the top of her thigh. Whoever her soulmate is they have huge hands with strong fingers. Even though she loved Hisashi she still touches it sometimes to feel her soulmate’s heart beating and heat spread through her veins from his quirk.

It isn’t until she meets Izuku’s teacher, All Might, that she ever really thinks that she’ll meet her soulmate at all. His soul-print is on his bicep and now that he’s retired he doesn’t bother to hide it. It’s very obviously her hand. She can feel it in her bones.

“Um.” Is the only noise she can make. She can’t stop staring at it. They’re supposed to be talking about Izuku but all she wants to do is ask if he will hold her.

Yagi Toshinori follows her eyes to his soul-print and then smiles. “Oh, yes. I’m hoping that now that I’m no longer in danger I can find love in the last part of my life.”

Inko looks down for just a moment, suddenly glad that she’s wearing a skirt. As always, it tastefully comes down to her knees but her soul-print is just above the hem. She slides her skirt up and watches Yagi’s face. He watches her do it with the same kind of expression people watch train crashes with, like he can’t believe this is real life.

When Inko’s soul-print is revealed she can see the exact moment he recognizes it. His eyes go wide, his mouth drops open, and one of his hands makes an aborted movement as if to touch it.

“I think you may belong to me,” Inko says in a soft voice.

Yagi clears his throat and meets her eyes. He looks like he might cry. “I think you may be right.”

I’m perpetually filling prompts from this list~!

This ficlet is now archived on ao3 here.

If you enjoy my work consider donating three dollars to me on Ko Fi.

[ffxiv-ariavitali]

Her Unending Journey - On The Topic of the First: “The Sin Eater Attack”

Turned this into an official series. Text only can be found on AO3 :)

AO3 ver.

===

"—the battle was a ruthless one, in which I bore witness to countless lives come and go. With the young, there came fear; for they did not know if this first battle of theirs will also be their last. With the old, there came desperation, to protect the hopes of their children in this chaotic world seeking endlessly for their demise.

I had found one, a youth, whom I knew was moments from breathing their last. With tears, they reached out to me, searching for warmth in the growing cold encompassing their bodies. As I had done once before to an old friend, I did the same for them—

—and then I spoke to Lyna, who was collapsed upon the wall. Reporting all that I saw, all that I could do. Her grief mirrored my own, reminding me of how I once was many moons ago. A fain attempt to mask the pain, a shaken bid to rationalize the losses. Just as I had once done.

‘I...am fine! Completely...and utterly...fine! Better than fine! Hale and hearty and still alive to mourn those who are not. Who I failed to protect when they needed me the most.’

Her words echoed in the deepest part of my heart and I knew that that which watches within me stirred. The ‘me’ within cried out in chorus to her own, releasing the tears that I could not in front of this woman who feels the burden too keenly, too openly, too harshly.

‘We’ve come so far—so godsdamned far! I could have sworn the end was in sight. And now...Now they will never see it.’ 

And as we sat together, he donned to give us words from on high. The child who held himself as such, so ignorant and cruel.

‘The tragedy that has befallen you is of your own making. Divine retribution for your defiance.’

I remember looking up to sky, the beautiful starlit sky that I have made many promises under. I remember searching around me, at the despondent faces the surviving guard had as they questioned whether the choice they have made was the right one.

I remember.

I remember.

I REMEMBER—”

[Written text in the following section are ineligible, crossed out and rewritten. The corner and edge of the page are crumpled, worn, as if the writer had shed tears on the parchment and smeared the ink.]

“After I had my moment of weakness, I searched for Thancred in Spagyrics, as the captain urged me to. Thancred looked none worse for wear and I had offered to attune to my Soul of a White Mage to weave healing magicks so he would have a proper night’s sleep, but he would not hear of it on the account of Chessamile and the others having done what they could. 

Minfilia was no where in sight, which worried me as the poor girl is still learning much and more about the world. I feared this entire encounter may have been too much, but such is the way of life. Preservation of innocence is an illusion, as I have been made aware of many a time before...

...and so I searched for her. One part reminiscence and one part because I am not one to deny the man, who had watched out for me whenever and wherever my brother could not.

I found her at the Trivium, staring into the water. As suspected, she was blaming herself for Thancred’s injuries; for being too rash, too careless. She was too much as I was before...before...

I told her that she could make up for his injuries by being there for him. Obviously, she was unsure; a girl as young as she should not have to wonder whether her faults would lead to the deaths of her comrades. She should not have to worry about losing one to death on the account of her weakness. But, in the end, she ran off with muddled thoughts.

When I returned and donned the herbs to Chessamile, we resolved to see the Exarch, in which... in which a member of the guard approached us then.

He asked of us to pass a message along to him, you see. The smallest of favors. Along with the dying words of his friend that could not make it.

‘I never knew that our world was this beautiful. I’m so glad that I got to see the night sky...’

But then, he said the most curious thing, one that I do not think I will ever let go. It is in this that I have put pen to paper. So that I will remember.

‘But I believe in the Warrior of Darkness. In the Crystal Exarch. I don’t think what they’ve done is wrong, and I don’t think we’re wrong to fight with them, either. My friend, he smiled in the end. Just as he smiled when he raised his glass to celebrate the return of the night. That’s how I want to remember him. So I... I want to tell the Exarch. Don’t give up. Don’t give in. Please.’

I could not say anything in return, so I was full glad Thancred spoke on our behalf. I steeled my heart as I approached the Dossal Gates, as I stepped up the Tower to meet with the Exarch.

And when I finally found courage to open those doors upon reaching the Ocular, I saw him. I saw him and he saw me...and he was smiling.

...his words at first were as if he was attempting to reassure me. As if he knew this bloody business that constantly drags me within it all too well. To soothe the ache within my heart for what I could not do. And he blamed himself at the end. He blamed himself so I would not inflict the pain on my own shoulders.

I struggled to deliver the words, but deliver them I did. It would seem that even he is not privy to wavering sentiments as he would like us—as he would like me —to believe. He accepted his role easily, that he would not lose himself to grief. Such stalwart conviction, an unconditional passion that he possesses is something to be revered. I certainly do.

So I asked of him, ‘We have some time before the others arrive, if you would like to talk?’ in an attempt to share the burden.

‘...And if I were to confess any doubts I might harbor, no one need ever know? No, I believe you have enough burdens without my adding to them. Nevertheless... Thank you.’

I excused myself prior to meeting with the others. His words were so familiar, with a reminiscent voice that reminded me of someone long ago. I found a lonesome chamber in the Tower where I released my tears and spilled the passions the ‘me’ within my heart has been holding. It whispered words of comfort, but I could not be comforted then.

Instead, I swear an oath.

Dearest mother, dearest father and my cherished friends to whom I have lost along the way. I hope that you will find it within yourselves to forgive this foolish woman. For I have never wished vengeance upon someone so fervently since the day that Haurchefant was taken from me. Pray forgive this weak-willed soul, so overburden by loss and agony, that she may not lose her way as she walks her path.”

[The section has come to an end, but there are small scribbles written in the corner of the page. As you lean in to decipher the words, you find markings written in another voice in response.]

“I won’t let you lose your way. In your darkest day, in the blackest night; think of me and I’ll be there.”

[jabberz]

Remember

Day by day, the sunlight was slain. Bit by bit, he lost his grit. Step by step, he dragged his corpse. Ashes to ashes, he fell down. But it was not the end, for he rose once more, no longer the light of hope burning within, but a fire inside that had no reason. The mad king wore his crown, the mad king adorn his gown, his gauntlets like lightning, his leggings like ice, his veil was shadow, but darker yet thrice. He glowed and basked in warm aturmn's breeze, but around him all turned to dust... the kingdom laid barren, it's people were cursed. If only death would come, but tonight no hearse. One by one, the heroes awakened. Breath by breath they bated their fate. They knew what must come to pass, kill the king, lest suffering everlast. The petals all fell neatly in line, they rose up to challenge the divine. Each approached, a different resource, one by one slain, given due course. Promises of peace, fell on deaf ears. Resplendent majesty could not move the blind. Brute force and might crashed over him like rain, nothing left, but ruddy drops. The heroes ranks dwindled, their sum less than centurion, many lost the will and fled from his blight, nothing could stop this devilish rogue knight. None could overcome this plight. All that fell adorn his walls. Frozen in time, their souls swallowed whole. Yet the king never left his castle, not once. Nor did he even step foot from his throne. Only one thing could move him... A challenge. One day a youth appeared. He had not the wisdom of ancients, nor the eldritch strength of drakes. He had no divine blood nor fate's sire. He had only one thing... a fiery desire.The king rose and a twisted smile on his face. So young, so innocent...a delectable meal had presented itself. He had to have it, and thus he rose once more. Gruesome his visage and dark was the night... but nothing can escape destiny's spite. The lad stood tall and took a deep breath and uttered naught, but 5 words. "I know who you are." The mad king was unmoved, words never swayed him, thus he charged, blade in hand to end the creature's life. The youth stood still til the last moment possible, dancing before the knife's edge by mere millifragments.  The next step was quick and agile, he'd tear at the boy's very neck with bared fangs if he had to, but quick was the pain that blinded royal eyes, something had shone bright and altered his behavior. The boy stood stalwart his face was calm, no fear nor panic, yet something disturbing. What was he? The king did something no one else had ever made him do, he took a step back and retreated a ways, his visage was confused, his body caught in a daze... what had happened?  Games were ended, the king grew grim, he summoned forth the very depths of Hell, his magic rose and contorted the sky, threatening to rip the very heavens asunder, ready to topple this arrogant upstart, the lightning drew quick, black and inky as his heart, his arcane magic, an evil work of art, shot forth with a loud and horrifying crack, all that was near, faded to black. The king gasped for air as he fell to the ground. He heard not a whimper nor did he happen a sound. As he caught his wind his breathing stopped, before his very eyes the youth did stand, the king was shocked and awed, none could comprehend what miracle might have saved this lad. The child's eyes burned ever brighter, if looks could kill, this boy somehow became mightier. He drew down and gently held the king's chin. His next words broke the king to the soul. All he uttered was a quiet, "I win."  Souls that had been trapped and spirits that were claimed, all at once were freed from this horrible bane. Eternity opened and countless set free, a ghostly chill came over the land as a million voices echoed their song and suddenly went silent... all was gone. The mad king awaited death as that was all he could muster would happen at the hands of such an unstoppable force, surely this power was that of revenge, retribution of someone who cared for this land. But all remained quiet and all remained still... in all the intent he felt no ill will. He found himself gazing up once more and uttering, "why?" The boy smiled and leaned down to face the giant beast. "My words could not reach you, but that doesn't mean you didn't hear them. My gaze might not have moved you, but still you saw me, and your power was great, but I didn't care... I was just glad that you... were there.” The king was puzzled, addled beyond compare, just what could he gather from this stranger's stare? Words minced and chopped, meaning scattered... what could it mean? Could it all have even mattered? "Who are you?" The king demanded in a rather sheepish tone. "The one thing your madness could never overcome. Something sent from the heavens, straight from above." The boy drew in and gave pursed the king's lips, a gentle and most innocent kiss. "Something you've forgetten and something that fits you like a glove..." The king couldn't believe it, there was simply no way... He had been spared, by love. The King regained his conscious, he awoke to new thoughts and emotions, years and years flooded by in a moment.

“Come on! Let’s go! Everyone’s been waiting on us!” The kid led him by the arm. He hesitated, but slowly and weakly followed. “But... but what about what I’ve done?... I can’t just go back and face everyone...”

The boy smiled and chuckled a bit. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not like it’s the first time we’ve saved you.” The king looked confused and lost... “Don’t worry, soon I’ll explain everything! But first! Let’s grab something to eat! I’m starved~”

They walked on and on til the nightmare was somewhere in the distance behind them. The king’s coverings melted like sand into wisps on the air. His crown turned to dust and gave way to messy hair. A warm summer’s breeze wafted familiar scents as they padded along.

A trill voice echoed. “Here ya go Jabz, and one for you too!” A slender female figure offered both of them a hamburger. The kid scarfed it down hungrily and belched. The king felt something deep within him yearn to chuckle. His sad face almost smiled. The eager youth took note and beamed in his direction. “Come on, let’s go watch some tv!”

The duo walked inside a small doorway into a larger room. It seemed to be two stories high and fitted with all sorts of random knick-knacks. Another guy seemed to toil endlessly at a computer, not even bothering to look up he simply waved and continued on. The boy tugged the king along til they came upon what seemed to be a couch made from a discarded truck seat.

The youngster plopped down and immediately grabbed a remote. This all seemed... very familiar. He switched on the television and a familiar tune spewed from the speakers. “Ooh~ We’re just in time to catch a new episode! I can’t wait gaha~” The king stayed quiet at first... basking in the warm familiarity of this place. He started to relax and it was slowly coming back to him. He felt a small hand on his shoulder followed by concern. “Are you alright now Jabz? It was a little worse this time around.” The king realized that “Jabz” was referring to him. “Huh? What was worse?,” he questioned. “Your depression. You went to that dark place again. It took me a while to find you and drag you back here.” The king seemed puzzled once more, desperately trying to remember. “Don’t worry, it’ll all come back to you soon, just relax until it does okay? I won’t leave you alone this time.”

It did seem to naturally come back to him...me... huh? What an odd thing to say. Almost as if I... I realize that I’m the one in this story. Is this an out of body experience? Ah... my heads spinning. I stared into the face of my savior. Goofy grin and eyes sincere as the moon at night. I felt safe. I felt comfortable. I felt like I was at home here.

It was still a foggy patchwork as far as memory goes. Who I am, how I got here, where I’m trying to go, but I decided to put my faith in my companion who leaned his head against me as the show proceeded. I took a deep breath and relaxed. I could hear the gentle chuckle and chortle that I had grown accustomed to echoing in my ears and even my heart. My hand reached down to scratch behind my heroes ear. A gentle groan assured me it was well received. Things slowly felt normal and the kingdom faded away like a bad dream.

Give it time... and I’m sure I’ll remember.