#when was the last time i used the term shipping. feels cringe but i must resist such feeble feelings

[gemwolfz]

in honor of kululu vtuber real i have once again drawn keroros vtuber avatar design :) i drew her once and then never again which is a shame because heehee cute froggy alien anime girl

also as a bonus heres this unauthorized fucking thing i doodled last night 👍

[blanknamed]

trial and error [senku x reader]

I wrote this on AO3 a few months ago and just wanted to link it on to my Tumblr. Part 2 is already out right now, but I just did this quickly during one of my lectures lol. Hope you guys like this.

SHIPPING: SENKU X READER

PREMISE: [Name] had always known Senku was a little bit of an oddball but that's what made him so interesting to her as children. Now in the Stone World, he's only even more interesting what with his claims about shooting up to a million years worth of technology back, but some things never change with him; specifically on the concept of love. As a way to get him to think about it as something other than "disgusting feelings" she proposes for him to think of it differently, though it seems to be going in a direction she never expected.

PART ONE - PART TWO - PART THREE

{--*--}

CHAPTER ONE: A SUGGESTION

Senku was completely lost at the moment. It wasn’t stuck with his most latest creation, no. It was those three sisters. They haven’t stopped staring at him for the past three hours and it was starting to get on his last nerves. Usually he was able to just ignore them and go on with his day, but what can he right now? He had spent the previous night working his ass off on planning for the next project so the working effort on his end was a little slow (well, slow in his terms at least; [Name] had already told him a few times to slow down for the sake of their non-modernized companions). At the moment, he was having a lunchbreak, sitting hunched over his blueprints trying to figure out what was happening.

Keyword: trying.

“Your head looks like its going explode.” [Name] said softly as she sat next to him, bowl of ramen in her hand. Her eyes scanned over to his spiky hair. “Well, it already looks that way, actually.”

“Shaddup.” Senku replied gruffly, but [Name] didn’t take his rudness to heart. She had known Senku since they were children. She had used to follow him around like some sort of duck. At first Senku had found her a bit of a nuisance, constantly teasing her and calling her names in hopes of making her go away, but it seemed it hadn’t worked on her. Apparently having an older brother meant immunity to any other insults being thrown at you.

Soon, Senku had started realizing she was better off as an asset for him, running errands for him like Taiju so he’d end up having to leave his little lab less. Most of the time, though, [Name] was cleaning up the messes that were created when Senku and Taiju were too exhausted to do it themselves. [Name] had also cooked food for all three of them so they wouldn’t starve when they were working on Senku’s space projects.

Byakuya liked to joke around about it, saying a then ten year old [Name] would already be one of Japan’s top chef from all the cooking she had done and Senku probably wouldn’t have survived as far as he did if it hadn’t been for [Name]’s constant reminders for him to eat.

Though, like most childhood friendships, it had seemed then it had come to an end. [Name] was two years younger than Senku so once he had entered middle school, it was a little harder visiting him. The hobbies they both took a liking to were completely different, Senku’s leaning more toward an academic side with science, while [Name] had started to develop a liking to painting. So even if they had gone to the same middle and high school, their chances of being in the same clubs were 0.

Who knew being petrified for over 3,700 years and a threat to our lives would bring us closer together? [Name] thought to herself mindlessly as she slurped on her ramen, internally cringing at how nasty it tasted.

She had been the de-petrified right after Yuzuriha by Senku’s miracle formula since they weren’t that far from one another, though she wasn’t exactly sure why she had been chosen, given that they hadn’t exactly spoken in so long. [Name] never bothered asking Senku either due Tsukasa’s unwavering need for him to have Senku killed. When he had been supposedly “killed” and then revived, it had dawned on her that she still had a feeling there were times he was going to get himself actually killed if one of them wasn’t going to be around, causing her to make the decision to stay with him while Taiju and Yuzuriha went back to Tsukasa,

From then on, it seemed Senku and [Name]’s old dynamic had started to come back. He would create trouble with Chrome and Kohaku while [Name] would sit back with Suika and remind them to not overexert themselves. Sometimes, [Name] would even try to cook the old food she used to make if the resources allowed her to. Most times, however, it was just her picking up the catastrophes he left behind late at night.

“You better clean that up or else you’re going to have a mustache drawn on you tonight.” [Name] stated, giving her friend a pointed look as if the emphasize that she was being serious. Senku didn’t answer, only staring at the same spot of the blueprint. A telltale sign that he was thinking about something else. Slapping his arm gently, she pulled him out of his rapid thoughts. “What are you thinking about this time, huh? Big brain finally distracted from his genius moments? Could it be love? Must be the end of the world.”

Senku’s mouth quirked into a tiny smirk at the mention of the last statement, causing some odd fluttery feeling in [Name]’s stomach. It immediately went away when Senku flicked her forehead, a habit he developed when [Name] was annoying him. “Love is just a construct of emotions I’m incapable of.” He stated smartly.

[Name] rolled her eyes. “Your big words don’t work on me, big brain. Now tell me what’s really bothering you.”

[Eye color] met crimsons ones, telling him to tell her in the manner only they knew how to work well with: silence. His eyes darted to the side, making [Name] glance over at the three girls staring intently at him. [Name] could only snort out a laugh.

“So it is about love. Well I’ll see you in the next life then Senku--ouch!” [Name] pressed her palms to her forehead, glaring at her friend. “What was that for?”

“You’re being a nuisance.” He said dismissively as he slurped some of his own ramen. “And so are those three with their staring.”

“Could you blame them, oh great village chief?” [Name] asked redundantly. “Good-looking stranger shows up out of the blue, pretty much causes a village to turn itself upside down and inside out in less than a year. That’s pretty exciting for some village girls; some might even say romantic.”

Senku’s face pinched in itself in revulsion. “Disgusting.”

“You say that like you have any experience at love.” [Name] replied with a laugh.

“And you do? You’re only 14.” Senku stated.

“I’m 15.”

“Whatever.” Senku replied. “The point is, neither of us have experienced it and we shouldn’t talk about it.”

“Why not?” [Name] challenged. “Think of it like a science experiment; love is a construct of emotions right? You said it was something you couldn’t attain, but I beg to differ. Test it out on someone. Take one of those three out on a date; or you can do all three if you’re so bold.”

Senku, who had been squinting at her the entire time she was talking, suddenly changed had some type of look on his face. He never really thought of love like that; most likely because he never really thought of love at all. Maybe he should put it to the test, but the only problem was--

“I don’t really wanna use those three as my test subject.” Senku stated simply.

“What?” [Name] asked, followed by three other voices. Both of them looked up to see that the three sisters had ended up inching closer to listen in on their conversation.

In hindsight, we shouldn’t have kepy glancing their way or at least talked quieter. [Name] thought, embarrassment seeping through her.

“Why not, though?” Ruby asked, eyes bulging wide, clearly not caring that she was going to be a possible test subject. From the looks of it, her sisters didn’t care either. They really want to go on a date with him, no matter what situation it is. What a bunch of si--

“Because I want to go on a date with [Name].” Senku replied simply, pinky in his ear.

HUH?!

NEXT PART

[kisses-for-cas]

Summary: When a witch hunt forces the Winchesters to go undercover in a suburban neighborhood, Dean finds himself fighting with his upcoming feelings for a certain angel. To be more precise: the angel, who currently pretends to be married to his brother Sam.

Ships: Dean/Castiel

Word Count: 8,200

Read on AO3

Tammy has lived in this neighborhood for almost 30 years – she raised her kids around here and now is enjoying her well-deserved retirement with her husband Harold. And if she knows one thing for certain, then it’s this: there’s something wrong with the new neighbors. It’s not because they are gay, Tammy tells herself. She believes herself to be quite open-minded, one of her nieces is actually a lesbian. It’s something else, but she can’t quite put her finger on it yet.

The men moved in today, only a few days after the last tenants died in a horrible and tragic accident involving the lawnmower and a malfunctioning electric wire. Tammy doesn’t like to admit it, but she always knew those two didn’t fit the neighborhood. Sarah brought it up several times at Sunday Brunch, and as it turned out, the entire neighborhood held a grudge against the deceased couple. At least the house still looked well enough to get sold almost immediately again.

It’s hard to catch glimpses of the movers, but she catches a few sights as she stretches out of her bedroom window. One of them has dark hair and is wearing a tan trenchcoat, the other one seems to be taller and is coated in a flannel shirt. Not really the type to be moving into this street, but they might turn out to be nice. She tries to keep an open mind, she tells herself, even though she doesn’t understand how somebody could possibly move while wearing a trenchcoat.

Shortly after dinner, the doorbell rings, and Tammy almost jumps forward to get it. Sarah told her she’d call once she had a proper talk with the new neighbors, but the phone’s been quiet so far. But to her surprise, it’s not her friend in front of the door, but two handsome men holding a basket with muffins.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Philipps. We’re the Winchesters,” the taller of both says, as he holds his hand out. Tammy shakes them politely, as she smiles at them.

“Tammy is fine, and my husband Harold is probably already asleep in his lounge seat,” she jokes as she shakes their hands. The man in the trenchcoat seems a bit more reserved, but he still gives her a small smile when she looks at him.

“Nice to meet you, Tammy,” the other man says again. “I’m Sam, and this is my husband Cas.”

5 days earlier

“Lawnmower accident?” Dean laughs, as he re-reads the headline again. “Well, if this isn’t our kind of thing, I really don’t know what is.”

“Exactly what I thought,” Sam replies, turning his laptop back to himself. “Apparently there were several deaths within the last 10 years in this neighborhood, and all of them were classified as accidents.”

“All over the area? So less likely a spirit, and more like –“

“Witches?” Sam finishes his brother’s sentence. “Probably, the victims weren’t exactly popular in the area. One of them had a kid, but the couple wasn’t married. Another person wanted to move in with her wife, but she died before she could. Seems like they are most likely targeting people, who don’t fit the community.”

Witches and conservative suburbs sure aren’t Dean’s favorite things in the world, that much is sure. But if people are in danger, there’s no way he’d let them down. Especially, if he might get to kill some fundamentalist witch.

“Huh, so what we’re thinking? I’d say go undercover, but brothers usually don’t go buying some white picket fence house in a conservative neighborhood,” the older Winchester proposes, while settling back in his seat. He remembers how they tried to infiltrate that neighborhood so many years ago and how the salespeople kept mistaking them for a couple.

“I thought Eileen and I could maybe do it, but her leg isn’t healing as we hoped,” Sam thinks out loud, wincing at the thought of his injured girlfriend. The recent werewolf hunt was tougher than expected and left Eileen’s leg badly hurt. Cas tried his best to heal her, but she was still struggling.

“Maybe one of us could team up with Mom?” Dean suggests but cringes once the words leave his mouth. “Urgh, never mind. I’m not very strong on the Oedipus thing.”

“What about me?” Cas chimes in, all eyes turning to him. Dean didn’t even realize the angel entered the room. “Since we are not related, it might be less awkward to pretend a relationship.”

Dean is left more or less speechless, as he babbles incoherent words. He likes Cas very much; they are best friends for a reason. But pretending to be in a relationship? Heaven and Hell have been teasing them for years about their “profound bond”, so they might even get away with it. But Dean’s stomach twists uncomfortably at the mere thought of calling Cas a pet name or holding his hand in public.

“Uh-Uh, no way I’m getting fake-married to Cas!” Dean protests once he finds the ability to speak again. His reaction was apparently a bit harsh, judging by the looks both Cas and Sam give him.

“Okay…,” Sam sighs, drawing the word out in a long breath. It sounds like he wants to say more but instead turns to face the angel. “Castiel, would you like to pretend-marry me?”

Dean can feel a blush creep up his neck, as he stares at his brother. It’s the reasonable thing to do, but it just feels wrong. Nobody ever questioned their status as friends, and Dean can’t even picture the both of them acting in love. When he thought his stomach felt bad before, he’s now actually feeling sick.

He’s close to suggesting a fake relationship with their mom again when Cas simply nods to answer Sam’s question. “Of course, Sam. I mean, I do.”

The two share a hinted smile as if they are both part of a joke Dean doesn’t get. The sick feeling still doesn’t leave him, as he stands up from his seat. He must have eaten something wrong today, that’s the only logical explanation.

“Well, Mazel Tov to you guys then,” Dean mutters, more to himself than to the other men. They don’t even look at him when he leaves the room behind.

———————————————————————————————–

“I still think this is a stupid idea,” Dean protests, as he puts the meatloaf in the oven. Somewhere behind him, he knows Cas is preparing the salad and Sam is busy fluffing some pillows on the couch.

“We need to connect with all the neighbors, and a housewarming party is the easiest way to do so,” Sam replies annoyed. He and Cas introduced themselves to everyone in the neighborhood, but nobody seemed guilty so far. Cas tried his best to “sniff the witch out” but only found some kitchen herbs in the local gardens and a loud laugh from Dean, when he explained his plan to search for witch-like smells. So far, they had no clue who the responsible party could be.

“Dearest, could you make space in the hallway closet for the coats?” Sam calls out to Cas, and Dean almost burns his hand at the stove. He had a few days to adjust to the idea of Sam and Cas pretending a relationship, but the term of endearment still surprises the hunter.  

“What’s next? You’re gonna kiss goodbye on the porch when Cas drives to work?” Dean snaps at his brother, who seems confused by the sudden anger.

“If the situation needs it, sure…,” Sam replies, but Dean interrupts him before he can continue.

“What the hell, Sammy? Dearest? What kind of weird pet name is that even supposed to be?”

“The one Sam and I agreed to,” Cas replies drily. The look in his blue eyes leaves no space for any further discussion. “This act is completely planned out, and we can’t risk our standing because you are having trouble adjusting, Dean.”

Just as Dean wants to argue again, they are interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. They can only hope nobody heard their yelling, the last thing they need is unnecessary gossip from the neighbors. Cas and Sam waltz towards the front door, while Dean stays a few steps behind them.

“Hello Tammy, Harold. Welcome to our humble home,” Sam greets the guests, as the couple enters their hallway. Cas takes their jackets from them, hanging them in the biggest coat closet Dean’s ever seen. Well, at least the house got some perks. Before he can think more about the architectural features of the house, his brother calls for him.

“This is my brother Dean,” Sam introduces him, and Dean tries his best to give a fake smile and nod politely at the boring stories the neighbors tell him. This is going to be a long evening…

—————————————————————————————-

“Well Ladies, let’s begin Sunday Brunch,” Irene happily pronounces, as she raises her mimosa in the air. The other women do the same, cheering each other. It’s the first Sunday Brunch after the Winchesters moved to the area, leaving more than enough gossip material for the group.

“They seem nice enough, but I heard Sam is unemployed. He just sits around all day at home and waits for his Cassiel to come back home!” Jennifer complains with a deep sigh. It’s no secret she isn’t the biggest fan of the new couple, but even she can’t deny the quality of the served meatloaf at the housewarming.

“His name is Cassiel, dear,” Beth replies, eying the salmon pieces hungrily. “They said Sam’s working in IT and can do it from home. Clearly, an excuse, if you ask me.”

The gossip continues happily: Tammy found out they only have one toothbrush. Irene asked about Cas’s job, and apparently, he’s working in a nearby library. And all of them agree, their marriage is weird. Whenever Sam touched his husband, it felt unnatural, and they didn’t kiss once the whole evening.

“We need to address the elephant in the room,” Sarah sighs, and the group’s attention draws over to her. She’s been quiet so far, which means her news are far bigger than everyone else’s: “The brother.”

“If I were only twenty years younger…,” Beth starts, earning a peal of laughter from the women around her. “He’s very handsome, that’s true.”

“Yes, and I think Castiel would agree with you there,” Sarah speaks, before taking a long sip from her teacup. The reaction is immediate, as all the women start talking at once. The Winchester barely lived a week in the neighborhood, but they already produced the best gossip they had in a while.

“Do you think they are having an affair?” Tammy asks shocked. Of course, she had felt the tension between the family members, but she blamed it on the stress of moving. But now that Sarah suggested it, it seems like a possible explanation.

“We can’t be sure yet, but I bet something is going on. Dean surely looked rather unhappy every time he saw Sam touching his hubby. And Cas got some serious heart-eyes for his brother-in-law.”

“Besides,” Irene steps in “their marriage just seems – off? There’s more sex happening in the way Cas looks at Dean than in his marriage bed with Sam”

“Irene!” The shocked gasp from the elder women makes the other guests laugh, as they refill their mimosas.

“Oh, poor Sam,” Tammy sighs, fiddling with her wedding ring. Being cheated on must be awful on its own, but having your husband fool around with your own brother? That’s a new level of tastelessness.“

“Anyways, have you seen Mrs. Ericson’s new haircut? Just awful…”

——————————————————————————————

Dean excuses himself early from the housewarming party, not knowing how much more of the charade he could have handled. He expected to get some blackmailing material for his brother, it was supposed to be a funny sight after all. What he didn’t expect was the burning sensation on his inside, as he regarded the play right in front of him.

He’s still mad about the whole thing, and how caught up both of them were. It’s one thing to hold hands and present in the couple in front of others. But Sam calling Cas by a pet name in private? That’s just unprofessional, even Dean knows that. And then Sam told him, he would even kiss Cas if the situation needs it…What the hell was that even supposed to mean? Nobody is going to force them to kiss, the party guests are all far too old to play “spin the bottle” anymore.

Would Cas even kiss back, if Sam initiated a kiss? The angel doesn’t seem the type for physical affection; hell, he only lost his virginity a few years ago! The image of Cas pressing Meg against the wall, kissing her passionately, popped back up in Dean’s mind. And then the image changed to Cas and Sam in the same manner…God, Dean’s gonna have to swallow some holy water to get rid of that mental image.

Carefully, he watched the way his brother and his friend interacted, and the sight made him feel uneasy. He thought it was a stupid idea for them to fake a relationship because it would just be weird. But now that he was watching the way Cas’s hand rested on Sam’s lower back, Dean realized it’s something entirely else: he’s jealous. It’s not a feeling he knows very well; after all, none of his relationships ever lasted long. But as he watched Cas laugh at one of Sam’s stories, their sides pressed together – it’s setting something inside of Dean loose.

If he hadn’t acted like a child, he might have been the one standing beside Cas at that moment. He would have been the one holding his hand, laughing at his jokes, and maybe even pressing soft kisses on Castiel’s cheek. Nobody would even question their act, he’s sure of that. And then his mind kept wandering, back to the memory of Cas showing off his kissing skills. Except now it wasn’t Meg, but himself getting pinned against the wall.

Dean’s not stupid; he knows he likes men the same way he likes women. It’s been a long journey to finally find self-acceptance, but he’s finally contempt with it. That doesn’t mean he’s going to buy pride stickers and tell everyone around him he’s bi. No, it’s his secret and he’s the only one who needs to know about it.

He also knows Cas’s vessel is very attractive. But those two things – his attraction to men and his profound bond with Cas – were never something he considered might be related. But thinking about Cas kissing him – it’s something Dean never knew he wanted that much. When the sight of the happy couple got too much for him to bear, Dean excused himself to get a drink. Only then he remembered they are actually on a job, and he’s supposed to be on the watch out for possible bad guys.

And he’s totally going to do that.

Once he had a proper drink.

——————————————————————————————

“Please tell me your stupid charade is at least getting you somewhere,” Dean groans, once Cas is settled in his seat across from him. They decided to meet up in a close diner to discuss their next steps, while Sam is hacking the public security cameras from their house. Dean refuses to call it their “home”, hating the implication it’s setting.

“There are a few people we can surely rule out,” Cas replies, stirring some sugar into the coffee mug Dean pressed into his hands. “On my drive yesterday, the energetic waves were much stronger at the end of the street.”

“Great, so what’s next? You and Sammy going to play house for some more weeks, until we finally got our suspect?”

Dean can only hope the hunt will be over rather sooner than later. He barely slept the night after the housewarming party, his mind racing with thoughts. Not even liquor helped to drown them out and the night left him feeling not only exhausted but more upset than ever.

Castiel releases an annoyed groan. “Can you just…you’re undermining this plan at every given opportunity, and Sam and I are getting worried you might risk the entire thing.”

“I just want,” Dean starts, the words twisting in his throat. He knows exactly what he wants, ever since seeing Cas and Sam casually holding hands and snuggling on the couch. But at the same time, he knows it’s something he can’t have. Angels aren’t supposed to have emotions, he knows that. But when he catches Castiel’s blue eyes carefully watching him, Dean can’t help but feel a spark of hope.

“Do you ever think things could be, you know, different between you and me? Maybe we could be…more…or…”

“Dean,” Cas replies, his name sounding almost like a prayer from his lips. “Are you saying…”

“Well, hello you handsome fellas,” a sudden voice snaps them back to reality and when they look at its owner, Beth is smiling at them. “I thought it was you, so I just had to pop in and say hello.”

“Hello then,” Dean grumpily answers, his eyes focused on the table before him. Of all possible times, Beth had to disrupt them just now. He remembers the way those nosy neighbors had eyed him at the housewarming party, and how it made him uneasy. But then again, he only had eyes for Cas that evening.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work, Cas?” Beth asks, an obnoxious tone hidden under her sweetly sick smile. Right, Dean remembers, they told everyone Cas works at the library. Good enough of an excuse to spend their time there.

“Uhhh – Lunch break,” Castiel answers stiffly, his eyes shortly glancing over to Dean. The hunter seems to have grown smaller by the second, as he fiddles with the menu.

“Well, tell Sam I said hi,” she comments cheerfully, as she finally leaves them alone again. Silence falls over the table, only disturbed by the noise of the diner around them. Dean can feel Castiel’s watchful eyes on him, but he’s not ready to face them yet. He might not believe in fate or destiny, but the disturbance came just at the right time. A few seconds more and he might have destroyed the best friendship he had his entire life.

“Dean…,” Cas finally breaks the silence, but Dean interrupts him before he can speak more.

“Just forget it, Cas…Let’s focus back on the case.”

They don’t pay any attention to Beth, who silently snaps a picture of them from the outside. It feels like the ultimate proof those two are actually having an affair; why else would they meet up in a diner during Castiel’s work hours? She can’t help but grin, as she sends the picture to her friends.

TO: BRUNCH LADIES

“Look who’s having dinner instead of working….”

——————————————————————————————

“It’s Jennifer,” Cas says, once the image of Dean flashes over the laptop screen. After several neighbors pointed out how attached Dean seems to be to his brother, they decided to stick to virtual conversations for the moment.

“You sure?” Dean asks as he watches his brother and his best friend sit on their couch. He should be glad to once have an entire motel room for himself, but for some strange reason, he misses his family. Okay, he knows exactly why: he hates not knowing what’s happening between his brother and Cas. Sammy isn’t interested in Cas that way, he knows that. But the thought of them holding hands is enough to get Dean bothered.

“Absolutely,” Sam replies. “She was already one of our suspects due to some lucky incidents in the last few years, but when I was at her house, I clearly saw some witch supplies.”

“Her magic doesn’t seem too powerful, destroying her supplies and her altar should be enough to stop her,” Cas adds up, and Dean nods along.

“She’s working from home, right?” Dean asks while trying to remember everything about the suspect. Jennifer didn’t talk to him a lot; she was more of a loner. Apparently, her husband died a few years ago and left her enough money to start her own jewelry company. “How are we going to get her out of the house long enough to take care of the situation?”

“We could throw another party. Maybe celebrate a birthday or a wedding anniversary. And you and Mom could handle the house in the meantime,” Sam suggests.

“She didn’t stay long at the housewarming,” Cas throws in. “We need some more time, there might be warding at her house – maybe we could try a distraction, so she stays longer?”

“You could fake-break-up your fake marriage,” Dean huffs under his breath, knowing already they won’t agree to it. If their plan fails, the entire cover-up story would be blown up. There’s a bottle of beer in Dean’s hands and he takes a deep gulp from it. It may not be noon yet, but he stopped caring about that years ago.

Cas answers once Dean finished drinking. “No, that’s hardly enough to draw her attention.”

“We could call Jack, maybe he can help out. He could be your unknown son from a secret affair,” Dean jokes next. It sounds almost like a cheap plotline from Dr. Sexy – except Dr. Sexy’s secret son actually appeared in season 3 and needed an organ transplant, which could only be donated by his father. While Dean tries to remember how the episode ended, Sam and Cas nod in agreement.

“I’ll call Jack right away,” Cas speaks, his phone already halfway pressed to his ear. A second later, the angel disappears from the couch, leaving only Sam in his view. The younger Winchester seems to wait for Castiel to leave the room before he addresses his brother again.

“Dean, promise me you won’t act up,” Sam tries to reason. “We can’t risk the entire thing because you are getting jealous.”

“Jealous? Don’t be ridiculous, Sammy,” the older Winchester mumbles, trying his best to not sound petty. “Scout’s honor, I’ll be on my best behavior.”

——————————————————————————————-

Dean’s promise lasts around 20 minutes, which is already longer than he honestly would have expected. He and Mary will enter Jennifer’s house at 1800 sharp, leaving them with just enough time to trash her little altar and the supplies. Jack is going to start with his distraction around 10 minutes earlier, giving Dean enough time to slip out quietly. It’s all planned to the minute, which of course means, it’s destined to fall apart.

They invited their neighbors under the premise of Castiel’s birthday, even though the angel technically doesn’t even have a birthday. It doesn’t matter anyway, since Sam promised some BBQ and apparently that’s enough to motivate everyone to show up. Dean watches the spectacle from a distance, occasionally sipping his cold beer. He planned to handle the grill, but some bored husband hushed him away to deal with it instead.

Cas looks beautiful, Dean notices as he watches his best friend talking to his guests. He’s wearing a light blue dress shirt and a pair of dark jeans, and Dean makes a mental note to thank his brother for finally getting Cas out of his usual outfit. Then he remembers it means Sam took Cas shopping at some point, and Dean’s gratitude turns sour in his mouth.

“How long have you two been married?” one of the ladies asks Cas, and Dean tries his best to hide a snickering laugh.

“Too damn long,” Dean jokes under his breath, but loud enough for several heads to turn in his direction. Maybe he had a beer too much, but watching Sam and Cas acting in love isn’t a thing he can handle sober.

“Two years,” Cas replies shortly, shooting angry glances at Dean. A second later, he mumbles to his guests again. “May you excuse me for a moment?”

Dean steps back, ready to hide from Castiel’s anger, but it doesn’t work. Barely a moment later, Cas is already in front of him. His hand closes tightly around Dean’s arm, keeping him from turning away.

“What’s the matter with you, Dean? You’re acting like a child,” Cas hisses when he catches him in the hallway. It’s enough to make Dean angry again, as he pulls his arm away from Castiel’s tight grip.

“The matter with me?” he shoots back. “This is honestly so ridiculous, you’re acting so…”

A middle-aged man bumps into them, and Dean stops talking immediately. There are far too many people around and if he says anything about the case, it could ruin their entire plan. The guests are spread all over the house, leaving no place to talk in private. Well, almost no place…

“We need to talk,” Dean whispers, before dragging the angel into the coat closet. Some curious eyes seem to follow them, but Dean shuts the door before anyone else can spot them. The closet is surprisingly spacious, but the walls seem to suffocate him. There’s a bit of light coming in through the shutters, and he can see the concern written all over Cas’s face.  

“What’s going on? Ever since Sam and I began working this case, you’ve been acting weird,” Cas presses on and Dean knows it’s finally time to come clean about his feelings. He doesn’t want to lose Castiel’s friendship, but he can’t keep lying anymore.

“I wish it were me,” Dean rushes before he can chicken out again. “Instead of Sam. I wish it were me you’re married to. And I know it’s all fake, and you’re just pretending, but it’s driving me insane. Watching him hold you and call you those cheesy pet names. Because - because it’s something I want to do with you…not pretending, but for real.”

Once Dean starts speaking, the words don’t seem to stop rushing from his mouth. Cas just regards him with those hauntingly blue eyes, his head tilted in a way that always makes Dean’s heart melt. When all is said, Dean feels like the air was punched out of his lungs, as he awaits his friend’s answer.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because I was too stupid to realize it for the longest time. And then I just didn’t know how to say it,” Dean admits. He came close to confessing in the diner, but Beth interrupted them and afterward, Dean felt ashamed and stupid.

“Dean,” Cas whispers. “I want those things too.”

There’s the beginning of a bright smile on Castiel’s face, and Dean swears his heart skips a beat when the words finally dawn on him. Before Dean can overthink the situation, he presses closer to the angel and is relieved when Cas is doing the same. And then their faces meet in the middle. Kissing Cas is the easiest thing in the world, it turns out. Whatever Dean was so afraid of, is right forgotten once their lips slot together.

It starts out innocent and gentle, just like the way relationships start. But then Cas opens his mouth a little bit, letting Dean lick inside and,  oh  – now things are getting heated. Dean presses even closer to Cas, their chests flushing together and their arms holding each other close. Somewhere, Cas’s back hits a wall and Dean pins him against it. The moan that falls from Cas’s lips is almost obscene while motivating Dean only further.

It’s perfect, and amazing, and breathtaking – until the closet door opens and they stumble onto the floor. Tammy’s surprised gasp draws everyone’s attention over to the couple, still entangled on top of each other on the floor. Everyone’s, even Sam’s.

“What the hell do you two think you are doing?” he yells loud enough to attract the entire house to the hallway, where they are watching them closely. Dean and Cas are still on the floor, slowly stumbling back to their feet.

“Sammy, I can explain…,” Dean starts, but now Sam turns his attention to Cas. He steps closer to them, his pointed finger slapping against Castiel’s chest.

“You’ve been screwing my brother?!” he yells, before locking eyes with Dean. “And you! Is this why Fernando broke up with me?”

Dean is taken aback for a second. Who the hell is Fernando? It’s only then when Dean remembers their lesser-used codewords. He can still recall how he wrote it down in his own leatherbound journal:  Fernando – just play along.

“This got nothing to do with Fernando, this is about me and Cas!” Dean replies with an angry voice, before taking Castiel’s palm into his own hands. Cas gives him a quick squeeze, and Dean decides to have at least a little fun with the situation.

“I finally understand now, why I was so against your marriage. Because you two don’t belong together! Your whole marriage is a scam! You act all perfectly happy when in reality, you’re not even sleeping in the same bed anymore.”

Dean can hear the people around them gasp a little. He wouldn’t be surprised if one of the elder people would end up with a heart attack due to all the fake drama being uncovered right now. Besides him, Cas draws in a deep breath, before speaking to his (fake) husband.  

“It’s true, Sam. I’ve been having feelings for your brother for a while now, but I never knew how to address them.”

Sam just looks at them with the biggest puppy eyes Dean’s ever seen. His time in drama club surely played out. “Are you two in love?”

Dean takes a deep breath, looking over to the familiar blue eyes, and the truth slips easily over his tongue.

“I think I love Cas more than I’ve ever loved myself.”

The look on Castiel’s face is everything and without even words, Dean knows he feels the exact same about him. The room is quiet around them, and from the corner of his eye, Dean spots Jennifer amongst the watchers. At least their little distraction worked well enough for her to stay.

“As your brother, I wish you all the happiness in the world,” Sam speaks, his eyes fixed in the distance. When Dean turns his head, he spots their mother coming in through the entrance door, breathing heavily but otherwise seems okay. She gives them both a small nod, signaling them she took care of the altar.

The crowd seems satisfied for the moment, and Dean is about to lead Cas out of the house when a voice stops them midway. It’s Jack, who is shouting loud enough for everyone to hear: “Sam, I am your secret son!”

The drama is enough to make at least one elder lady faint.

——————————————————————————————-

Dean and Cas depart soon enough, leaving Sam to deal with the rest of the concerned neighbors. Everybody seems to be too caught up in the drama to notice their quiet leave. They end up back in the diner, this time holding hands on the table. Surprisingly, everything feels the same and yet, completely different than before. Dean can’t put it in words, but for the first time in years, he knows he’s truly happy.

It takes a bit of time for Sam to finally text him, saying his guests finally left them alone and they can come back to talk about their next steps. When the Impala roars down the road, Dean can feel the eyes of every household staring at them. They are probably wondering why he would be back so soon enough, but Dean doesn’t care. He just holds Cas’ hand on the way to the house, fully knowing he won the grand prize.

Jack and Mary greet them happily, and even Sam can’t hide his grin as he approaches his brother. “Well, if it isn’t the homewrecker himself.”

“Come on, I bet several of your neighbors would have consoled you all night long, if you had asked them,” Dean shoots back, throwing a wink at Sam. He remembers the way one of the ladies had clung to Sam’s arm, trying her best to cheer him up about his failed marriage.

They all settle in the living room: Cas and Dean on the couch, Mary and Sam seated in each of the armchairs, and Jack sitting cross-legged on the floor. It may not be much, but it’s their own little screwed-up family. While Sam gets them beers from the fridge, Dean considers putting his arm around Cas. They haven’t had time to label their relationship yet, but they’re both too old to play games. So, Dean decides to go with his gut and wraps his arm around Castiel’s shoulder. The returned smile lets him know it was a good decision.

“Sorry for the way I acted earlier, it was just for show,” Sam says when he passes the beer over to the couple. “I’m actually glad you two finally figured things out.”

“Me too,” Mary chimes in with a laugh. “Even though I was patiently waiting for your back-up at the house.”

“Bet you still did an amazing job without me,” Dean returns, an honest smile on his lips. He holds his beer towards her, and she clinks it with her own.

Sam fills them in with the details of the last hours, and how he watched Jennifer leave her home in a panicked state. She packed a few bags, before driving away with screeching tires. Well, another case successfully solved. They talk for hours while laughing about stories and eating the leftovers from the party.

“Damn, I could really use some sleep now,” Dean yawns, stretching his arms. A short glance at the clock lets him know it’s almost 2 am and they gotta hit the road early the next day.

“How about you two head to the motel, and Jack and Mom stay here?” Sam proposes. When Dean checks on Jack, the kid is curled up in his seat, snoring quietly. No way they’re going to move him somewhere else, so this plan might be for the best.

“You just want me to stay, so your neighbors see this pretty lady leave your house tomorrow,” Mary jokes, earning some quiet hollering from her elder son and a laugh from Castiel.

“Guess we’re heading back to the motel,” Dean finally decides, before clumsily standing up from the couch. If it weren’t for the awful neighbors, this place might actually be nice. The furniture for one thing is comfortable enough. And the closet sure gave him a few ideas what to do with Cas in the future. He takes a few steps towards the door until he notices something is missing. “Cas, you coming?”

“You want me to come along?” Cas asks, and Dean just nods.

“Of course, would be weird to stay with your husband now that you scored the hotter brother,” Dean replies, pressing a gentle kiss on Castiel’s cheek. He never knew angels could blush, but it’s a sight he will never get enough of.

“We’ll pick you up tomorrow at nine, better be dressed!” Sam shouts after them when Dean is already halfway out of the door.

“You’re such a buzzkill, Sammy. No wonder your husband left you”

“I’m just glad you’re finally out of the closet,” Sam shoots back with a grin. Dean already knows it’s a joke he’ll hear a thousand times in the upcoming years, but when he looks over at Cas, it sure is a price worth paying.

The drive to the motel is rather short, and soon enough, Dean unlocks the door to his room. Luckily, he had booked a room with a king-size bed. He rarely had a room for himself during hunts, so he had decided to enjoy that. Cas closes the door behind them, while Dean strips out of his flannel and his jeans. He’s still wearing a shirt and his boxers, but compared to a fully dressed Castiel, he almost looks naked.

When Dean comes near him, the angel wraps his arms around his torso and pulls him even closer. Once again, their lips meet in a kiss, growing more heated by the second. It’s with a sigh that Dean slowly pulls away again.

“Maybe we should take it slow, honey. How about we just cuddle tonight?” Dean murmurs, pressing gentle kisses along his jaw. The exhaustion of the day lies heavily on Dean’s bones, and all he wants to do is cuddle into bed, his lover beside him.

“Honey?” Cas asks with a raised eyebrow, and Dean feels himself blushing yet again.

“It’s just – every time I see a bee or something, I have to think about you,” he admits. “Remember how you collected honey yourself? Or when you showed up covered in bees?”

Cas smiles at the memory. “Of course, I remember, but why would you bring that up now?”

“It’s just a term of endearment, a pet name. I can stop if you want”

Dean was never a big fan of pet names. He usually called his partners by their names, not some silly phrase. But then again, he was the one who turned  Castiel  to  Cas,  so maybe the angel has always been the exception for him.

“No, I like it,” Cas decides, before pressing another quick peck onto Dean’s lips. “And I am fully contempt with cuddling you.”

After some discussion about clothing choices, Cas also strips down to his underwear. Cuddling in jeans and a dress shirt would have been awful, and Dean luckily managed to convince the angel of it. The bed is more than big enough for the both of them, as they lie facing each other in the dark.

“We should make you a proper Winchester someday,” Dean mutters, gently kissing Cas’s knuckles. He isn’t thinking about marriage, not yet at least. Most marriages he’s seen over the years ended in death: his parents, Bobby and his wife Karen, Ellen and her husband…The list goes on and on, including those couples they couldn’t save during their hunts. When he saw his own father stricken with grief for his lost wife, part of Dean swore he’d never marry. But then again, Dean never would have believed he’d ever live past the age of 30. It’s with a smile upon his lips that he finally falls asleep.

All his life, he expected monsters in every dark corner, and more than enough times Dean was proven right. He’s been long enough in the business to smell danger from miles away, Dean believes. Which is why he’s surprised to wake up to the sound of Castiel shouting his name.

When he opens his eyes, all he sees is purple. The room seems to be painted in the color, reflecting on every surface possible. And in the middle of it all stands Jessica, glaring at them with violet and angry eyes.

“You! You really thought destroying my altar was enough to stop me?”

Dean’s hand finds its way under his pillow but returns empty-handed. He must have forgotten to place it there, too caught up with his lover. And when he looks around, he can spot his faithful gun sitting on top of a dresser, which is inconveniently placed behind the wrathful witch in the room. Cas is already standing beside the bed, and the sight of a half-dressed angel ready to fight would be hilarious if it weren’t for the mortal danger they’re in.

“You’re an abomination,” Jessica yells again. “Dirty and sinful, and…”

The angel blade hits her right in the chest. Her purple eyes glance downwards, where the blood comes rushing out of her body. Apparently, she was so caught up in looking dangerous, she actually forgot to ward herself. And with Castiel’s heavenly aim, that could only end deadly for her. Jessica sinks to her knees; the purple flashes of lightning slowly disappearing from the room. It’s only then when Dean decides to approach her. Blood is running down her mouth, but she’s still alive, watching the hunter carefully as he kneels down in front of her.

“I’ve had a voice like you in my head my entire life, whispering awful things about myself,” Dean tells her, keeping eye contact as he pulls the angel blade out of her bleeding chest. “But now, that I’m finally happy, do you know what happens to this voice?”

Jessica doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t need her to.

He would have slit her throat either way. 

———————————————————————————————

“Welcome to Sunday Brunch, Agnes,” Sarah announces, as the women settle down at her dinner table. It’s been a while since they had another brunch, but it was long-awaited. Today, a new face sits at the table with them.

“So sad Jennifer decided to move away, but we are glad we got you in the neighborhood now.”

“Thanks for having me,” Agnes replies with a shy smile, as she glances around at the other women. “It’s wonderful to have such nice and caring neighbors, my old neighborhood was so scandalous…”

“Scandalous?” Irene laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh dear, you ain’t seen nothing yet!”

“Are you referring to the Winchester?” Tammy replies while stirring her tea. It’s been weeks since those men came and went, but it’s still everyone’s favorite topic of discussion.

“Don’t be silly, of course I mean the Winchesters!”

Beth releases a deep sigh. “I’ve heard they did it right in Dean’s fancy car after the party.”

“No, they threw Sam out of the house and then had sex in the bed Sam used to sleep in. How tasteless of them,” Sarah corrects her immediately.

“That can’t be.” It’s Tammy’s turn to speak now. “I saw him the next day with a blonde woman in front of the house”

“Guess he got over it quickly then,” some other woman giggles. “Have you seen the kid too? Sam can’t have been older than maybe 25 when he was born”

Agnes just smiles quietly, as she listens to the stories. She may not know the Winchesters, but they sure are entertaining as heck.

———————————————————————————————

Castiel becomes a Winchester on a sunny day in July.

It’s been months since the case that started their relationship, and they never spared another thought to those nosy neighbors. Dean suspects the rumors they started that night, but he couldn’t care less. Once the town disappeared from the Impala’s rearview mirror, none of them ever spared another thought to the neighborhood. Dean and Castiel couldn’t be happier, and that’s all that matters to them.

Jody invited all of them to her cabin at Lake Alvin, just outside of Sioux Falls. They are celebrating Claire’s graduation from college, and Dean couldn’t be prouder of the kid. He talks Cas into buying her the cheesiest greeting card they can find, paired with the most beautiful gun in the entire bunker. It’s got engravings all over and Dean even finds somebody who puts “C.N.” onto the side of it. He would rather have Claire live a normal life, but he knows it’s not going to happen.

It appears like everybody in the hunter community got the invitation: Sam and Eileen, Mary, Donna, the Banes twins, even Garth and Bess together with their kids. It’s not often hunters get to celebrate something, so everybody immediately jumped the opportunity. It’s a beautiful day, and at some point, Dean finds himself standing next to Claire.

“So, when you gonna put a ring on it?” she asks, nodding over to Castiel, who is chasing his little namesake all over the lawn in a playful game. Dean’s heart swells at the thought of this man being his husband. They hunt less and less these days, especially since Sam decided to move in with Eileen. It’s still a secret, but he and Cas recently bought a house in the same street as them. It might finally be time to leave the hunting life behind.

“There’s no rush,” Dean simply answers, trying his best not to settle on the thought. If he’d ever marry someone, it probably would be Cas. His eyes are still fixed on the laughing figure when Claire continues speaking.

“Whatever, old man. But if you ever want to tie the knot, just call me,” she says, shrugging with her shoulder. When Dean looks at her with a raised eyebrow, she continues. “I’m actually a licensed officiant, not that it would matter for you two anyways. Could marry you just like that –“

She snaps her fingers, before taking a gulp of her soda. Dean looks over to Cas again, his thoughts running in his head. What if…? The idea seems insane to him, but Claire seems to catch his thoughts. A smile breaks over her face: “Go ahead, dude. Just ask him.”

“Don’t want to steal your thunder, kid.”

“There would be no thunder without you,” she confesses, and Dean can’t help but pull her into a tight hug. He never expected to have kids, but he loves Claire just like his own blood. Her first weeks in college were rough, he remembers. But every time she came close to quitting, she’d call Dean. At this point, she’s just as much his kid as Jack, and he couldn’t be prouder of the people they’ve become.

When they step apart, Claire pulls a necklace from her neck. Two golden rings are connected on it, and Dean immediately knows who they belonged to.

“Here, this one should fit,” she says and presses the larger ring into his shaking hands. Dean mutters an honest thanks, smacking a gentle kiss on her forehead, before sprinting over the lawn.

“Hey Cas, can we talk for a moment?”

“You’re not dragging me into a closet again, are you?” Castiel laughs, but willingly follows his boyfriend a few feet away from the crowd.

“If I remember correctly, you rather enjoyed that…,” Dean counters with a grin, before kissing the angel gently. Cas is still smiling against his lips, and Dean pulls away with a deep breath.

“I have an idea…well, actually Claire had the idea, but I think it’s kinda awesome. And since everyone we love is already here, it would just be such a good opportunity and…”

“Dean,” Cas simply says, putting a stop to Dean’s blabbering.

“Will you marry me? Tonight? I know, you actually deserve a much better proposal and a wedding that doesn’t take place in flannel, but I love you so very very much”

Dean’s stammered words are silenced by a loving kiss. When they pull apart, Cas is smiling brighter than the sun.

“I’ve adored you ever since the moment I touched your soul in hell, of course, I’ll marry you”

The biggest smile flashes over Dean’s face, and Cas returns it just as much. A moment later, a loud shout draws their attention over to the cabin, where Claire is cheering in a way, that reminds them far too much of Dean. And when they tell everyone else, the mood just keeps going up.

It’s not a traditional wedding, but then again, their whole lives aren’t exactly normal. Jack insists on being the flower girl, even though Dean and Sam try their best to correct it to “flower-boy”. The music comes from a beaten-up boombox, which plays “November Rain” on repeat and the couple agrees not to exchange vows, deciding to wait with them until they can talk privately.

Dean’s hands shake when he slips the ring onto Castiel’s finger. It’s only now that he realizes they only got one ring, but before Dean can freak out, the angel pulls another golden band from his pocket.

“Where did you get that ring from?” Dean asks, and Cas casts a glance over to Jody, who is currently trying to stop crying. They barely knew her husband, and sometimes Dean still feels a pinch of guilt they couldn’t save him. The ring, he knows, is not only a final peace offering but an official invitation to the family. Dean shoots her a thankful smile, and she just nods in return.

“Speak now, or forever hold your peace,” Claire announces from the front, but the crowd remains luckily silent.

“We’ve been waiting for ages, no way we’re going to object now,” Sam shoots from the side, making everybody laugh. If Dean wasn’t close to bawling his eyes out, he’d probably throw a witty remark at his brother.

“Well then,” Claire says, clearly holding tears back herself. “I shall pronounce you officially hitched!”

Everyone cheers when Cas pulls Dean in a kiss, marking the beginning of a new chapter. The rest of the evening passes in a blur: they dance, they sing, Sam proposes to Eileen, Claire and Kaia finally get together, and Dean and Cas once again find themselves fooling around in a closet. But it’s perfect in every way.

Not every family contains of two parents and a bunch of kids. For them, family contains of two washed-up hunters, their time-traveling mom, a badass Irish huntress, a fallen angel, the devil’s son, and dozens of other people they got to know over the years. Bobby once told Dean, family don’t end in blood, but it doesn’t start there either.

And as Dean watches his happy and fucked-up family, his hand tightly holding onto his husband, he just knows truer words were never spoken.

[hebescus]

remember this ship ask? yeah, i wanna do them all with lawlight bcs they control my brain. but it's a happy no death note au bcs it's me. oh and this shit is long plus it's 3 am rn so my words are very messy. but enjoy.

(i skip some numbers that i answered and the ones that i can't think of btw)

pre relationship :

How did they first meet?

L's investigation hq. he was a suspect of L, still, but this time he told soichiro to bring this 18 yo boy to the hq to test him, asking light to work with all of them. he ends up not guilty ofc, but L still wants to keep him…around.

What was their first impression of each other?

ah, the good old 'what the fuck dude???' from light and the 'oooh he got a big brain' from L. it's hard to get out of canon in this one.

Who felt romantic feelings first?

L. But it's more like thoughts, rather than feelings. It's just these random thoughts that pop out in his head like 'i don't mind kissing this guy, if he asks' but not like 'i want to kiss him' yknow what i mean? idk this is just something i experience a lot lmao. it develops to feelings once light falls for him and L can see that. So in terms of ideas, it's L, but in terms of feelings, it's Light.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Oh our favorite light denial yagami. Of course he's cursing himself for having feelings like this but once L calls it out he's over. 

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Light would laugh it off, and be like "i don't like him that way you know". L would shrugs be like "well yes that's possible, i don't think i mind". 

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

boring, lonely, empty, you name it

(more under the cut)

general :

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

hmm, they both initiated the relationship? ykwim? They both notices they had feelings for each other and just...go from there. they never have like a relationship talk, they just go with the flow until at some point they starts to get comfortable to refer the other as partners. They basically can read each other's mind, after all.

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

Yes, sort of. A tennis game! And a coffee sesh after, just like canon. They plan this to be just "let's just relax, this case has been really exhausting, take a one day break, L" but when Light got home, sayu asked "how's the date going?!" He immediately said "it's not a date, you watch too many dramas it's rotting your brain" And sachiko gave him a smile while shaking her head at this statement and when he's back to his room he immediately calls L and was like "hey does that count as a date?" and L answers with "depends, do you want it to be?" with a smirk that light can hear.

What was their first kiss like?

it was late at night, light was helping L with the case when everybody went home. they were sharing their view about this certain criminal when light notices L staring at his lips, first he ignored it but it happens again and again to a point where their face just got real close and then...kiss, somehow. idk lmao.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

First person who can understand each other and are equals, the only ones who can tear the other's wall down, and just practically soulmates in any form that even their sun & moon signs mirroring each other's? YES. 

What’s their height difference? Age difference?

i hc L as just a little bit taller than light, but it's not like you can see it through the hunch anyway. ofc we all know the 6 years and 4 months age gap

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Sayu likes L, Sachiko is kinda surprise Light doesn't date a typical pretty person, but it only makes her heart fonder. L doesn't mind them, he thinks they're nice, light grew up in a good place. Soichiro? Well, he might me a bit reluctant but he loosen up slowly, his son is happier than he ever was, after all.

Who takes the lead in social situations?

Light, obviously. Because he's a charmer and if L takes control, the person they speak to would run immediately the first 2 minutes.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

it is a universal knowledge that L does this. like, come on, count the fics, you can't, there's just so many. he loves to break that perfect wall and make light feel 🥴😳. it's entertaining. But he knows when to stop. too much of that will be embarrassing in light's part, and he respects his boy's dignity.

love :

Who said “I love you” first?

Light!! The thing is it was said over the phone. He gets more and more comfortable talking with L through calls, since every now and then L travel frok countries to countries. One time he just like "yeah, safe flight. love you, bye" he expected L to say goodnight to him as a response as usual but L was silent and he realised what he just said and realised that he fucking mean it. L seems to still be able to read his mind even thousands miles away so he replies with "i love you too, goodnight". they never missed seeing each other more than that night.

What are their primary love languages?

we had a discussion for this! but as we see in canon, they're both very acts of service with a little hint of physical touch here and there. quality time is also important. words and gift aren't really needed for them.

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

L. Only to annoy light. It's terrible that he almost cringed to himself, but it does bring a good laugh for light.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

PDA is a not their preference, they just love being in private more. They might hold hands sometimes, butmost times they won't. Altho they always stand or sit reaaaaally glued to each other even though there are so many space. 

Who initiates kisses?

both. they want it, they got it. but light gives light kisses (ha) more, not necessarily on the lips, usually when L was really busy working, keeping his feet on the ground.

Who’s the big and little spoon?

They don't spoon a lot, they prefer not touching at all or cufdling face to face, but when they do, Light is the little spoon because being a big spoon makes his sleeping position kinda uncomfy, he feels awkward with his legs, it's just not. thankfully L thinks cuddling light this way is very calming.

What are their favorite things to do together?

Tennis and solving cases, duh. Or sometimes they play video games fighting each other. Anything competitive and/or challenging that make their brain grow 10 times bigger. But sometimes, a comfortingly peaceful and quiet dinner with hushed words thrown here and there about random things feels like the best thing ever.

Who’s more protective?

L. For identity reasons, ofc.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

Physical. They can read each other's mind, they knew it by gesture, touches, and glances. 

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

IT'S MY TIME TO SHINE. venus by sleeping at last fits them so well, that song is in the background of multiple cozy couch smooches sessions or even when they're slow dancing (please listen to this tho song it's so good). also i think they would like persephone by the tragic thrills too, L would be like "this song reminds me of you" and Light answers with "i'm persephone?" "Yeah" "i'm a fucking badass then" "yes you are". oh and first day of my life? lover of mine? pink in the night? sweet creature? the lakes? oh god i have too much answers

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

they don't do nicknames, really. although, L sometimes called light with some snarky tony stark styled nicknames when he feels particularly playful but annoyed at the same time.

Who remembers the little things?

They both do. Big brained assholes they are.

domestic life :

If they get married, who proposes?

It's not really a proposal, they didn't  even remember who said it first. But one sleepy night after a hard case, someone said "hey you wanna get married" and the other was like "sure, why not" "really?" "yeah, i think i'm ready, you?" "me too" "great" and then they go to sleep. at breakfast the next morning L called watari from across the room and said "wammy i need you to prepare [enter marriage stuff here], and light, you must call your family after this". poor old watari chokes on his tea.

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

The wedding is in a secluded little place near the wammy's house, L used to go there a lot as a kid. With just light's parents, sayu, and watari. Well, not until Light caught Mello, Matt, Near, and Linda peeping from the bushes

Do they have any pets?

A chunky cat the wammy's kids feed daily but never try to keep them in, because no animals are allowed inside the orphanage. L saw it and was like "light let's bring this bitch home" she is, indeed a little bitch, but light and L loves her dearly. her fur has light brown and black colors, like both of their hairs, so she becomes their daughter, L gave him a weird ass name but i can't think about it rn.

Who kills the bugs in the house?

Light because he's the one who's actually bothers to. They ofc annoyed L but he cpuldnt care less to actually get rid of them.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

L. He rarely sleeps and once he did, he wakes up very fucking late and will pull light back to the bed if he's woken up by the empty space beside him.

Who’s the better cook?

Light. L is a spoiled brat. But Light can't bale for shit, that's Watari's job. Light grow up learning and helping his mom making meals for the family. He's not the best, but it's good enough to make L craves them in between his sweets.

Who likes to dance?

None of them. But they would slow dance on rare, sentimental occasions. And it's like so fucking romantic bcs all the lights are off except for a candle or a table lamp or a cabinet lamp whatever that has yellow-y dim light. And they don't speak, they just casually move against each other, but heart ready to combust like i do when i the mental image came into my head.

[hellowkatey]

Febuwhump Day 5

Prompt: “take me instead”

Read on AO3

Read My Mind

Obi-Wan could feel them before he saw them. Bounty hunters lurking in the shadows, stalking him and Satine as they walk through the busy market. He grabs Satine's arm above the elbow.

"Obi wha-"

"We need to go."

She looks up at him, her crisp blue eyes looking into his as though she can read his thoughts-- sometimes he thinks she can. She nods, and he guides her swiftly from the main stretch. He senses them at the main chokepoints, probably hoping to catch them as they leave. Obi-Wan has a feeling they aren't monitoring the less accessible methods of exiting the market, though. They cut down a tight path between a fruit and a leather stall. Both of them have to turn sideways in order to fit between the buildings, but Obi-Wan moves his hand from her elbow to intertwining his fingers with hers. To make sure she stays near him.

"How many?"

"At least four."

"Is this a way out?"

"Oh no, I felt like taking us to a dead end so we can be promptly trapped and captured," Obi-Wan replies dryly.

They emerge into the back alley which is much less crowded than the main market.

"Can we call Master Jinn for help?"

Obi-Wan swallows hard. Maybe they could... if his commlink hadn't been pickpocketed off him nearly as soon as they entered the market. He hadn't yet told Satine this fact, embarrassed that he somehow managed to be distracted enough to allow someone to steal his communication device.

"If I had my commlink..."

"If?" she stops, looking at him with that accusatory face. "So we're flying blind?"

"We're not flying blind, I'm here,"

"Oh right."

He still holds her hand, pulling her closer to his side in a playful nudge. Even when they're in certain danger he can't help the smile across his face as he tries his best to feign outrage.

"I'm more than capable of protecting you!"

"We're really testing that theory as of late, aren't we, Ben?" she says with a wry smile.

Obi-Wan is confident they can get out of this. They just need to get out of the market and make a break for their camp to warn Qui-Gon. He noted an old farmhand's entrance when they arrived-- boarded up, but with old rotting wood that he knows his lightsaber will be able to cut right through if it doesn't come right off with a simple tug. He continuously scans the area as they swiftly weave through the backstreets. Obi-Wan can't deny the feeling of danger is steadily growing by the second.

He lets the pit in his stomach fester until he sees the passageway he saw earlier come into view. Obi-Wan lets go of Satine's hand and jogs ahead, prying on the wooden planks. The first comes off easily and he throws it to the ground at his side to get started on the others. As he pulls the next plank off, a chill runs down his spine. In his mind's eye, he sees it before it happens.

Obi-Wan shifts his grip to the end of the piece of wood and whirls around, putting as much force behind the swing as he can before smashing it into the head of the bounty hunter that is still in the midst of recovering from his jump from the rooftops. He staggers to the side in surprise, grabbing for his blaster, but Obi-Wan's lightsaber is out in an instant.

"Satine!" he yells, seeing a flash of blonde hair in the corner of his vision. The next moment he feels her hand brush against his waist as she lets him step in front of her.

"Not leading us to a dead-end, huh?"

Obi-Wan blocks a blaster shot that comes from above, jetting one hand out to press her tighter behind the shield of his body.

"Is this really the time? Work on that door."

The one he took out at the beginning now has regained his footing, pulling out a long knife. As Obi-Wan has to deflect a shower of blasters from now two bounty hunters on the rooftops, the other slides across the ground below the blade of his saber and nearly drives it into the padawan's stomach. Obi-Wan has to twist uncomfortably to get out of the way, his back ramming into the wall beside the door. Satine looks at him with wide eyes, still pulling at the third wooden plank. Seeing her ignites his energy once again and he jumps back into action.

This time he manages to deflect a number of blaster shots back perfectly. He hears groans of pain, one falling from the rooftop and hitting the ground with a solid thud. The bounty hunter doesn't move. Through the Force, he can feel the life presence of the other fade into nothing. His attention goes back to the knife-wielder, who looks shaken by the two that now lie dead. Still, he lunges forward, and Obi-Wan reacts accordingly. He twirls his lightsaber to slice off the blade of the knife, but that doesn't stop the bounty hunter from pulling out a blaster with his other hand. At point-blank, there is nothing the Jedi can do besides slice off his hand completely, and so he does. A horrible scream fills the alleyway as the bounty hunter's arm drops from his body at the elbow. It takes only a few moments for his consciousness to leave him as well.

He thought it was over, but a whimper behind him makes his stomach drop with the realization.

Obi-Wan turns around to see the fourth has finally made an appearance. He holds Satine tight against his chest, a blaster against her temple, and a sinister grin on his face.

He's a Kiffar man, with dark skin and hair similar to Obi-Wan's friend Quinlan. Geometric red tattoos cross his face like a mask over his eyes, with more up both of his arms. "I must thank you for taking care of my competition for me. You've just grown my pocketbook considerably, Jedi child."

"But you forget, now, it is two against one," Obi-Wan says, holding his lightsaber up in a ready position. The Kiffar just chuckles.

"You forget I have a blaster to your girlfriend's head," he presses it harder for good measure, making Satine cringe in pain. "So what's going to happen is, I am going to take her and get my money. And you won't be following me. Unless you want her death on your hands."

He considers his options. If he makes any aggressive moves, he will kill Satine. If he lets him take her, they will lose her before he can get to their ship and find Qui-Gon. He swallows hard, his eyes flickering to the terrified woman. She looks at him with pleading eyes. Expecting something. Expecting a plan. He told her he would protect her, and now she has a gun to her head. He messed up this time, and now he must fix it.

Obi-Wan knows what he must do.

He raises his other hand slowly, deactivating his lightsaber, and letting it drop into the street.

"Take me instead," Obi-Wan says, keeping his hands up in surrender.

"Obi... no," Satine says in a low voice.

The bounty hunter cocks his head in intrigue. Obi-Wan has a feeling he knows where he is going with this.

"And why should I?"

"I assume you know all of our bounties. I also assume you are a smart man. You let your counterparts take the brunt of the fight while you laid in wait. You looked for the greatest reward for the least risk. You only have the ability to take one of us to not be outnumbered and risk losing both of us."

He smirks. "Out with it boy."

"You saw the damage I did alone, and I am only a student. My Master has the power and training to take out ten of you without breaking a sweat, and us together, we can take down twice that. So take me. You eliminate the possibility of having two Jedi coming after you, and you will get a better bounty from the Jedi Temple for my return than your employer wants for some runaway of a clan leader they are going to kill anyway."

Oh, Satine is angry. He can feel her outrage through the Force, but also her sadness. Because she knows, as Obi-Wan and the bounty hunter do, that he is right.

"How do I know this isn't a trick?"

Obi-Wan's lips press into a thin line. "If you take me, and do not hurt her, I will not fight you. I will leave my weapon, and come willingly. Just..." he looks into Satine's wide eyes. "do not harm her."

There are a million other things he wants to say as he looks at her struggling against the grip of the bounty hunter. Some that he can't say because it will reveal too much of him and some things he can't say because he hasn't yet figured out how to actually admit them to himself. But in the split second they have before the Kiffar makes his decision, a look is enough. He looks at her as though she can hear the things that run through his mind whenever he thinks about her. A part of him has always hoped that maybe she does have those mind-reading powers they often joke about because then she would know the internal tug-of-war raging within him. She would know that love is currently winning, and he has no idea how to come to terms with that.

The bounty hunter doesn't reply, but he does throw a pair of electrocuffs into the dirt at Obi-Wan's feet.

"Put them on, Jedi child."

"No!" Satine bellows as he leans down to scoop up the shackles. "Don't do this,"

Obi-Wan doesn't reply. He can't if he's being honest. He just looks back at her teary eyes with his deepest sympathies. I'm sorry, he projects to her. She doesn't have to be Force-sensitive to feel his regret for putting her in this situation.

He steps into the body piece and pulls it around his waist, and then slips the cuffs on, tight around his wrists. When he holds up to confirm they are secure, the bounty hunter activates the electric field and throws Satine roughly into the street, ordering her to stay put.

"Let's go then," he says, tugging at the cuffs. Obi-Wan looks down at Satine, using everything within him to not fall to his knees beside her and draw him into his arms one last time.

"It'll be okay, my darling," he says as he is forced to pass right by her. I love you and will return to you.

"If you aren't dead by the time I get you back, you will soon be," she says, wiping away a tear.

He smiles through the thickness growing in his throat. "I will make sure you have the honor."

[scorpioxsith]

Half Moon Rising - Maul/Reader

Feeling totally WEIRD about this because I haven’t posted fic in like...5 years. But I really love Maul right now and felt inspired. Soo..yeah!

This is a standard Maul/Reader insert, pretty sure I’ve avoided most descriptive terms but I’d say Reader is a young woman.

No warnings, I guess a little sexual tension/angst/violence. I mean I hope to get much hotter but I’m easing myself into this

Despite your Force-senses, your feet tumbled over each other clumsily as you were dragged onwards. A rough, fibrous bag covered your head and the calloused hands of scoundrels gripped you roughly as they forced you to continue your steps. You tried to maintain a sense of calmness, only remembering what you could of your training.

You were once a Padawan in the Jedi order, but you never finished your training. The night before the final ceremony, your mother had passed suddenly. You recalled a bitter understanding that emotions were not the Jedi way, that you must let go of things when the time comes. This knowledge had not stopped your grief from clouding your judgement. Her passing sent you into a period of depression, and your emotions had cost you the title of Jedi.

It hadn’t mattered at the time. It didn’t matter now. You remembered your peers, shocked at your willingness to give up all your dedication for all of your short lifetime. Although you had a strong sense of justice, you’d always felt emotions very deeply. That was not the Jedi way. It had been right to leave, and you hadn’t looked back since.

You weren’t sure how your choices had led to this path. It certainly wasn’t what you’d expected.

Ever since, you had been living in the shadows, smuggling and occasionally stealing to make a living. You had managed to stay alive - so far - by staying careful of whom you stole from. Your Force abilities also meant you were very good at making escapes. This, would be a new challenge entirely though. One you understood you may not see yourself out of.

There was a shift in the air density - suddenly it was cooler - and you surmised you’d come to an opening in the dark, never ending tunnels. With a sharp shove from the man gripping your left shoulder, you fell to your knees roughly, almost falling on your face thanks to the cuffs that bound your hands behind your back. You inhaled deep breaths through your nose, exhaling through your mouth, in an attempt to maintain clarity of your remaining senses.

You reached out with the Force, trying to gauge how many of them were surrounding you. Maybe ten men. You could take them, maybe. But as your tendrils tentatively felt around the room, something suffocatingly powerful and dark wrapped around your aura, strangling you. Asserting its dominance. It touched your feelings like a burn, making you instantly recoil your senses back into yourself.

Dread began to flower like an unstoppable weed in your gut, prickling up your spine and stinging your nerve endings.

“Leave us,” rumbled a deep, ominous voice.

You heard footsteps shuffling away from the opening, some of the men shoving past you purposefully, until one barged into your shoulder with enough force to knock you off balance. You gasped as you fell to your side, nothing to break your fall. As you lay there briefly, pride diminished, you were almost thankful for the bag on your head as it hid the blatant hotness that creeped up your neck and flushed cheeks in frustration. Even with your Force senses withdrawn inwards, you could feel an overbearing satisfaction over your pitiful state rolling over you in potent waves, emanating from the one remaining body in the room.

You forced yourself back up to your knees. You continued to try to stand fully but were stopped by a crushing force pressing down upon you. You gritted your teeth as the pressure on your back became too much and you submitted.

The bag was whipped off your head without warning and you blinked quickly, eyes adjusting to the dim light in the tunnels, met only with empty space. You swallowed thickly, craning your neck to try and look behind you. An invisible pull whipped your head back to the front before you could.

“Curious little thing,” he chided.

You glared into the disappearing darkness of the tunnel ahead of you. “I like to face my enemies.”

You sensed a hand reach through the air towards you but still flinched as long, rough fingers winded into the hair at the nape of your neck. Nails caressing your sensitive scalp sent an involuntary shiver through you. Yet again you sensed a smugness flowing from them at your compromised position.

You heard him step closer behind you, too close, and suddenly felt overwhelmed. He was so close you could feel his body heat prickling at your bare skin. A dark and powerful energy caressed yours and you couldn’t help from pulling yourself inwards, flinching away. In response, the grip at your neck tightened, forcing your back to arch and your neck towards him in a vain attempt to relieve the pain pulling at the roots of your hair.

As you winced in his grasp, he came into your vision, albeit upside down, looming over you oppressively. “How unfortunate for you, to call yourself an enemy of mine.”

Your eyes widened, meeting ferocious amber iris’s stained with blood red veins and darkness. You broke eye contact to sweep your vision over his red and black tattooed face, up to the horns protruding from his skull menacingly. You were at the mercy of a beast. A Sith Lord.

His eyes narrowed when you met them again. “I see my reputation precedes me.”

“Maul,” you spat.

“Now, now, in your thoughts you were much more respectful,” he reprimanded, “Try again.”

At your silence, he gripped you even harsher, and his claws began to pierce the skin above your neck. To your dismay, you released a cry of pain, but still no words. He tutted at you, before his other hand floated into your peripheral vision, resting at your temples almost soothingly.

Suddenly, a crushing sensation overcame you, like a migraine splitting your head open and burning fire into the deepest corners of your mind. You screeched in pain as you lost all sense of control, until your legs gave way and you were held in place only by his grip.

His other hand left your temple and the pain swiftly subsided. Awfully, your body involuntarily sagged in relief against him. You cringed and tried to lift yourself away, but the hand at your nape had already snaked to wrap around the front of your neck now, holding you in place. You struggled and writhed in an attempt to shake him off, to which his hand squeezed tighter around your throat. You couldn’t escape his frame, his shadow. Stars began to dance at the edges of your eyes, until your vision tunnelled and his intriguing face was the only thing you could see. You were on the verge of passing out before he let up. When your vision returned, he was looking at you expectantly. Your eyes felt hot, prickly, a telltale sign that tears were threatening to breach, but the last thing you wanted to do after showing so much weakness already was to actually cry.

You finally relented. “Lord Maul.”

He hummed approvingly. You wished he would let you go, not stand so close that you could feel his body heat, smell the soft musk that was obviously his natural smell, and worst of all, feel his dark and draining Force energy licking at your soul in what felt like biting flames.

As if your prayers had been answered, he released you harshly, pushing you forward. You barely managed to stay upright and not fall forwards once again. He circled you as you regained your balance.

“And who might you be?” he countered, once he was stood directly in front of you, a few feet away.

You avoided his intense gaze, looking to the side. “I…I’m no one, really.”

“That may be so,” he sneered, “but I sensed you on this planet before you even left your ship. It’s not often I come across your kind any more.”

The disgust in his tone was palpable. You jutted out your chin. “I’m just a smuggler,” you deflected.

He grunted in acknowledgement. “Did you know who you were stealing from this time?”

It was a weighted question. Truthfully, you muttered, “no.”

He bared his teeth. From your position looking up at him, he was even scarier than the stories you had heard. “You should research more thoroughly before you go walking into places you don’t belong,” he said ominously. His horned head tilted, considering you. “Who gave you this job?”

You pursed your lips and hung your head. This was only going to go one way. He didn’t need to explain himself. It was either fess up, or have your mind pulled apart again until it broke open for him. A part of you wanted to retain your dignity, fight the good fight. You were stubborn by nature. But as you looked up at his hulking figure, avoided catching his glowing eyes directly, the concept of bravery seemed just as foolish as it did noble. You noticed him smirk as you came to that conclusion, telling you he knew that as well.

“It was The Hutts,” you said, your voice breaking slightly, throat sore from his heavy hand earlier.

Maul didn’t show any outward reaction, only continuing to look down at you coldly. He took one step closer to you, causing your breath to falter for a moment.

You wondered if elaborating would save your skin. Or had he already decided your fate? Partly, you were struggling to get words out as it was. He was very intimidating.

“You are certainly no Jedi,” he stated. Was that disappointment you could hear in his tone? You felt an unforgiving push at your consciousness again as he used the dark side of the force to sift through your mind. You winced.

“Get out of my head,” you whispered.

“You left the Order before you finished your training,” Maul concluded.

You only glared up at him in response.

“For your own good,” he continued somewhat casually. “You would have been executed with the rest had you stayed.”

You stared at the floor. He didn’t seem to like that and it felt as though an invisible fist had uppercut your chin as he used his powers to force you to look at him.

“Why are you dragging this out?” you accused.

He snarled, stepping closer again, “I don’t think you’re in any position to question me, little one.”

You leaned away from him as much as you could. His dark energy was suffocating, like a fizzing volcano about to unleash its rage on you. Suddenly, you felt the cuffs around your wrists go slack and your arms relaxed to the new range of motion.

“Get up,” he ordered as you were busy looking down at your freed wrists, “Up!”

You stumbled to your feet, backing away from him as he quickly advanced on you.

“It’s been too long since I’ve had a worthy opponent,” he said, and your eyes widened in panic. “Well…” he teased, as though he were pondering the notion, “I suppose worthy is an exaggeration. But we can have a little dance, can’t we?” he looked at you in a way that had you shaking your head, backing away still, chills running down your spine. Like a fox ready to rip apart a hare.

His hand went to his side as he drew his weapon. Holding his sabre in front of him horizontally, the two sabres ignited one after the other, your eyes following each of them as they instantly bathed the room in a red glow.

“This isn’t a fair fight!” you blurted, “I haven’t had a sabre since I left the order!”

Maul laughed ominously. “Then this may not take as long as I thought.”

He lunged, giving you no choice but to dive away from the wrath of the sabre headed for your abdomen. Your eyes constantly switched between him, one sabre then the other. You jumped back on your feet, quickly regaining distance between you again. “Maul…” you warned, backing away into the tunnels. His expression was unreadable, though you could tell he was enjoying this, matching your every step back with a step forward. Very aware of your huge disadvantage, you seized the only opportunity you had to turn around and bolt down the tunnel, away from imminent danger.

Your lifestyle kept you relatively fit but you knew Maul would be faster. He had every physical advantage you could wish for. You chanced a glance over your shoulder and caught him just entering the the mouth of the tunnel. He was taking his time. Playing with you.

You screeched left, then right, right, left, trying to remember where you had gone but it wasn’t long until you had no idea where you’d taken yourself. Your lungs started to burn, all of these tunnels looked identical to each other, but occasionally you would hear the ominous sound of Maul swishing his lightsabre, taunting you.

After maybe ten minutes, you had to stop. You’d hadn’t been pacing yourself. In your haste to put as much distance between you and Maul as possible you had been sprinting at maximum effort. You breathed ragged breaths but knew you had to be quiet. But he would find you using the Force anyway…

Panic threatened to disable you as you gripped your head in hysteria. You’d chosen flight over fight, but there was no escape. Only the endless tunnels. That bastard could at least give you a sabre and make it a fair duel. Your anger bubbled and you screamed, “COWARD!”

You felt Maul’s force signature slam at you in response. You had offended him, it seemed.

I am the coward? You are the one who is running, little padawan.

You spun around at the phantom sound of his voice in your head. “A true warrior would give me a blade and fight properly!” you shouted into the shadows.

You were met with silence, and you continued to walk through the tunnels, using the Force during this precious quiet moment to guide you. Perhaps you could miraculously find the path out of here.

“You make a good point, youngling.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. His voice wasn’t in your head this time. It seemed to be coming from ahead of you, and you cautiously took a few steps back before turning to run. Just as you were about to dart left down a new tunnel, you saw the tip of his red lightsaber emerge and then Maul himself appeared, rage pulling his tattooed features into a distorted demon.

You whimpered for the first time, you were tiring, you knew in your heart you couldn’t take him. He was too powerful. His chest rose with a deep inhale as he smiled, feeling your frightened thoughts, bathing in them. As your feet carried you backwards again, he stopped, unscrewing his double bladed lightsaber before you. Your heart stuttered.

He raised his brows, challenging you, and with a flick of his wrist one of the sabres flew into the air, towards you. You caught it gracefully through pure instinct.

You looked to Maul, then the sabre, unintentionally in awe. You hadn’t held a sabre in…years. It carried a strange weight, just as you remembered. A phantom feeling surged in your heart, a warm, welcoming feeling, like seeing an old friend for the first time in years. You didn’t notice Maul, curiously watching you in your trance, head tilted.

When you caught his eyes again, a strange feeling fizzled between you.

He grinned, taking an offensive stance, “No excuses now, girl.”

That was the only warning he gave you before he struck, closing the distance between you in the blink of an eye. You blocked his attack just in time, you were sloppy, out of practice. He flourished the sabre down, you blocked again, and again, and again. His fighting style was chaotic and like nothing you had ever faced before. Relentlessly, he ploughed strikes into you, advancing as you moved away. You couldn’t seem to break the cycle, only managing to defend yourself against his erratic attacks within an inch of your life.

Suddenly you roared, harnessing all the strength inside you and trying a combo you remembered to be an old favourite. He blocked your novice attacks easily, but you continued to strike, until you attacked five hits in a row and started to get a feeling he was letting you. But you wouldn’t be lured into a false sense of security.

You heard his voice whisper in your head as your eyes connected through the beams of the crossed sabres.

Clever girl…

“Shut up!” you yelled, swinging your weapon to his left side. He dodged, jumping backwards then suddenly advancing on you with a succession of unforgiving powerful hits from above. Your arm shook with the impact, your annoyingly delicate wrist barely withstanding his brutal strength.

You backed away quickly, unintentionally letting out a pained yelp. He gave you no reprieve, moving forward swiftly to strike constantly as your blocks became weaker, until he finally spun in an expert display — his lightsaber striking yours out of your hand — kicking you in the chest and knocking you off of your feet.

Winded, you coughed, looking up at him in panic as he advanced toward you. As you began to crawl back, his heavy boot planted on your bruised chest and his sabre came to point at your chin. You could only follow the blade’s trajectory to gaze up at his face. You were scared and you hated it. Hated how small and weak he made you feel, especially in these last moments.

As though contemplating your fate, he hummed darkly, a sound so deep you swore you felt the vibrations of his timbre ripple through you. You felt the weight of his boot get heavier, he was purposefully crushing you until you squirmed, your hands wrapping around his leg and pulling at him to no avail. You wailed, “please.”

His lip twitched. “Please, what?” More pressure. You could swear you could feel it in your head now too.

You cried in pain, “I.. I don’t know, please,” you almost sobbed. You didn’t even know what you were begging for. Mercy? It seemed pointless to ask for such a thing given who he was. This would only serve to destroy your dignity in your last moments.

His boot left your chest and you gasped for air as he repositioned, lowering himself over you dizzyingly before you could even blink. “No,” you struggled as he trapped your arms under his legs, he came to almost be sitting on your chest. You looked up at his tattooed face in confusion, why was he doing this, why hadn’t he finished you, why were you in this awful position?

Knowing you were trapped, he let you wriggle and fight against his weight, watching you patiently as though he were mildly entertained and enjoying your struggle. You let out a final scream in frustration, giving up as a treacherous tear slipped down your check. You looked to the side, couldn’t look at him, as he bowed forward and, unbelievably, kissed your cheek at your teardrop. It was sickeningly sweet, but not done to comfort you, only to patronise and scare you. Then, his hot tongue licked your cheek, upwards, tracing the tears path. The tip of his nose tickled your skin, and you realised he was inhaling, smelling you as he trailed around to the side of your face before dipping down into the crook of your neck.

You were shaking in fear, he was too close, you didn’t understand, and although you couldn’t see anything beyond him, you could still hear the buzzing of the lightsaber, constantly reminding you of your precarious situation.

He hummed again and a deep, sinful noise, almost a growl originating from his chest vibrated through you - you felt it everywhere. Everywhere. You whimpered involuntarily which only seemed to spur him on and he chuckled darkly into the sensitive skin at your neck. It sent nerves blazing down your spine, you would have shuddered if it were not for his weight pressing down on you.

Maul broke the silence, his breath caressing your neck, “Curious how you came to be here, isn’t it?”

You swallowed, gathering your retort, “the Force moves in mysterious ways…”

It was meant to be a mock joke, but your shaky voice ruins the delivery.

He rose up to resume his position above you, barking out a laugh. “Indeed, it does,” his eyes roamed over you ominously, blade returning to its position below your neck. You stilled.

“Tell me young one,” he began, pausing until you met his eyes, “have you longed for a Master over the years?”

His bold question lingered in the air as you stared back at him, shock and surprise stuttering you before a rush of heat flooded up your neck. His dark eyes flickered to your collarbone, making you instantly conscious the flush was visible. You didn’t know which felt heavier, his gaze or his touch.

“Answer me,” he commanded.

Blinking up at him, your lips parted and a tiny voice unlike your own uttered, “yes.”

“Good,” he hummed, and bizarrely, a fluttering warmth rushed through you. What the hell?

His mouth twitched upwards minutely before suddenly his blade retreated, its buzzing white noise and red light extinguished, leaving you both in quiet darkness.

“Although you have shown to be weak in your resolve, unskilled in your technique, unguarded with your thoughts…” Maul paused again, allowing his words to sink in, satisfied as a trace of hurt flickered in your eyes at his criticism. “These misgivings could be resolved under my teaching.”

Your breath hitched as a heavy moment passed between you, tension fizzing in the air. You knew you would have to choose your next words carefully.

“You would…teach me?” you murmured as he inclined his head, but you continued, “but this would involve…the Dark side?”

He smiled. “Of course, sweet thing. Those emotions you feel so strongly, they will be put to good use.”

You bristled at his words, his use of the word ‘good’ resonating in you through the sheer irony of it. Although your inability to reconcile with your emotions back then had diverted you from your Jedi path, by no means had you ever considered the dark side, or the Sith teachings. But now, you couldn’t escape how you’d felt when Maul’s sabre landed in your grasp, or the strange pull that was drawing you to him.

Maul’s eyes hardened, sensing your uncertainty. He seemed to look over you once more, then you felt his weight shift until he had rose away from you entirely, the sudden loss of his body heat making the cold air of the tunnel bite your skin instantly. He took a step back as you scrambled to your feet.

You tugged your clothes back into place self consciously as a quiet moment passed between you. As your gaze drifted over him, you realised you had no desire to crawl back to your rackety ship, nor answer to the Hutts for the unretrievable cargo. In fact, you’d likely have to go into hiding for several cycles - or work double jobs to make back what you apparently owe. The alternate path, the temptation Maul was laying out for you, would mean you never had to answer to those slimes - or anyone - ever again. Except for obviously, Maul himself.

Your heart hammered against your chest as you stepped toward him, closing the distance he had just allowed you. He must have already known your verdict, for as your eyes met once again, a large warm hand began to trail up your arm, coming to rest on your shoulder securely.

“I accept…” you began, unable to hide your own grin as an infectious smirk pulled at his lips, waiting for you to say… “Master.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Thanks if you made it all this way and hope you enjoyed.

[apples-r-rubbish]

Institute (13th doctor x reader) Part 3

Summary:  The Doctor decides to drop in a few times to check up on you Word Count: 2.1k AN:  This is mainly filler, I need to edit part 4 and Because I feel nice (and to make up for this) it’s coming out within the next hour or so :) -L x Warnings: death mention Tags: @startrekkingaroundasgard @penguinwithitsarseonfire

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 4) (PART 5) (PART 6) (PART 7) (PART 8) MASTERLIST

It had been months since The Doctor had seen you. After having a particularly awful encounter with a dalek in late December, she decided she had to visit you, to give you some updated information. When she exited you were sitting in your chair, legs pulled up to your chest, silent tears slipping from your eyes.

“How do you manage to get it in the same spot every time? Is it something you’ve practiced or is it coincidence?” You asked, not giving her time to say hello. You were wearing jeans a crumpled t-shirt, you had clearly been here a while, and it was late, wine was on the desk a half drunk bottle on the desk

“My expert flight skills and mainly luck. What’s up? What’s wrong?” She asked anxiety clear in her face as she rushed to you, cautiously wrapping her arms around you

“My girlfriend and I split up. She’d been cheating on me,” You explained. A small pang of jealousy hit the doctor. 

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend- or well did- sorry timelines again,”

“Future you met her once, I mean it doesn’t really matter now. Where are we now?” You said stopping the conversation abruptly pulling out a notebook from your desk, “you’ve visited me after 40s India, and modern day Norway,” You frowned staring at your notes

“Done all that, got a few more on your end however, but you’ll soon find out. You keep notes?”

“Of course. River basically threw a notebook at me and told me it was best. If we’re out of sync we have to compare.” You replied scribbling down something. 

“What’s the date? I realise I never ask,” 

“New years eve, 2019 at quarter to midnight if you must know,” You frowned checking your watch “and I‘m sat in my office crying, wine drunk about a girl who really doesn’t care about me,”  You laughed bitterly taking another sip from the wine bottle. She frowned and snatched the bottle from your hands 

“That’s quite enough of that,” she remarked “It’s new years eve, you’re not sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. C’mon we’re watching fireworks,” she dragged you out of the chair by your hands to one of the many floor to ceiling windows in your office. Her hand was warm, not overly smooth but not rough either.  Most of London was visible from your windows

“Me liked the view, she liked London and she knew that she’d be handing the position to myself most of the time so, I was allowed to design the office,” you smiled at the memory 

“How long have you worked here?” she asked as if the question had been on her mind for months

“5 years, put straight in this position, Me found me, insisted I was necessary to the plan, important enough to be involved. We’re a skeleton staff, less than 100 people- 1 institute,” you explained 

“You are important. You’re important to me,” she insisted, remembering her hand was in yours “you’re my friend and I care about you and your feelings,” 

You laughed at that, “Why do you put up with us all? I never understand it,”

“I like you all, you’re kind and funny and passionate. You all want to achieve so much, you aspire to be better,” she looked away from you, her eyes lighting up as she spoke. As you opened your mouth to say something the ominous looking counter flashed up on big ben. You whispered the numbers, as the seconds drew nearer.  She pressed a hand against your face, “3...2…” you were cut off by the feeling of lips on yours. You stayed that way quietly for a moment, breathing heavily, as the celebratory fireworks went off behind you.

She pulled away, “Sorry if I crossed a line, I just know it’s a thing humans do,” She gave a small sweet smile, as if she’d known exactly what she’d done. 

“You didn’t cross a line it’s ok,” You said and then hesitated “But I know you, you do this, you’ll get in that blue box and fly away. But it means next time we might sync so can I get in that box with you.”

There was a comforting silence between you both, “we’re running in different directions, and at some point we might get on track,” You said,

She pecked your lips again, “Soon, I’m sorry.”

“I know, I’ll hold you to that,” You said with a wink as she backed into the TARDIS.

It had been a handful of weeks since the doctor had seen you, she was returning on an adventure with the fam “Sorry fam, got to drop that off at the institute,” referring to the alien tech, they’d taken from a recent adventure. 

“You want an excuse to see her don’t you? See if your timelines are aligned yet,” Yaz sighed at the doctor, she tried to deny it  but both Ryan and Graham nodded at the other woman, 

“Fine, i want to see her, especially after new years, just want to check in on her,” She explained with a slight annoyance to her voice. She flipped a few switches before landing, in your office as she usually did, same spot as always. You were laughing with your girlfriend, or in her timeline, former girlfriend. The other woman was sat on your desk, pressing a kiss to your lips when the doctor strolled out of her TARDIS, “So exciting thing, we found some alien tech that we think- sorry am I interrupting something-” She rambled turning her head, a edge to her voice that was unexpected, the others filled out the ship after her making similar awkward expressions. 

“Christ, can you give us a warning? Have you learnt to do that through our complex timeline?” You laughed, a heavy blush evident on your cheeks “This is my girlfriend. Babe, this is the Doctor,” You smiled, waving your hands between the two of them, she cringed at the nickname. Your girlfriend went to introduce herself, the doctor shot her a sharp glare remembering new years eve, before turning to you, “where are we up to?”

“Uh, you’ve just told me about 17th century witch trials,” You said trying to remember off the top of your head

“Good, that was a fun one,” She smiled at the memory, before, placing the alien tech in your hand, her hand lingering on yours for a bit too long, “Get one of the archive staff to lock that away, you might need it at some point. Maybe, depends, better to have it just incase, it’ll keep you safe, if I can’t be there,” 

“Ok thanks, we’ll get someone on that right now,” You replied, professionalism clear in your voice and face. You felt colder to her, she had forgotten what you were like in the early days. She nodded at you, before turning on her heel, restraining herself from wrapping her arms around you.  She extended a hand to your girlfriend, to which she accepted. The Doctor leant in and whispered “I know what you’re doing, cheaters get what’s coming to them,” She then plastered a fake smile before turning into the TARDIS after giving you a genuine smile. Team TARDIS followed behind her, giving small goodbyes and polite waves to you and your future ex partner. 

“Well that could have gone literally miles and miles better,” Graham frowned, after the ship had taken off

“Yeah, doc, you should have seen your face it was fun- wasn’t funny actually- Ow,” Ryan said between Yaz hitting him on the shoulder trying to help the situation

“Look, she doesn’t even know about new years because it hasn’t happened yet so it’s not like she can help it and saying that to her ex probably wasn’t the best route,” 

“She also kisses me when the institute gets attacked, which is about a month after new years, which is two months after this,” She turned to Yaz anger heavy in her voice “What would you have done in that situation? Hm? What would any of you have done? Exactly. Don’t criticise me when you have not been in situations like that, because it has happened to me far too many times for me to take advice from any of you!” she shouted her final words anger bubbling over the surface finally, as she scraped her hands down the console, in another attempt to knock something nonvital off of it. A pin could have dropped in the TARDIS and everyone would have heard it, “Look, I’m sorry, I keep thinking about her on that planet and I think it’s my fault, and I can’t stop it. I’m just worried, I care about her, and I don’t want to see her with anyone else and I don’t want to see whatever is coming, not on that planet especially,” 

“You never said, what planet it was,” Ryan said unexpectedly 

“It doesn’t matter, it isn’t important.” She frowned quickly “Look, new adventure, got a planet picked out and everything,” 

The familiar wheezes filled your office. You pulled out a handgun you kept in your desk drawer and pointed it at the doors unflinchingly, the doctor stepped out cautiously, “Tell me what I said to you, in this office when the cyberman attacked the institute!” You shouted at the woman

“(Y/N)-”

“Tell me!” You snarled locking the gun, not blinking

“You- You said you should keep wine in your desk, for when we synced again, and you said we should go on a date,” She stammered out. You lowered the gun and out it back on your desk

“Sorry, issues with the Zygons again. Bonnie and Oswald stepped up and helped though, helps to be cautious considering we didn’t have some of their new abilities on file. Gun was fake anyway before you shout at me, just needed to be sure,”  You said kicking your feet onto the desk

“What are we up to on your terms?” She asked avoiding your previous statements 

“The cyber incident was the last time I saw you and that was about 5 months ago. You?”

“Dropping tech off, saw your ex, a month ago for me,” She said taking the seat opposite 

“So we’re even then? Finally, nothing sneaky, just us in my office,” 

“I think so. Unless one of us is lying but we both know better than that,”

“Good,” You replied pulling out a bottle of wine from your desk drawer “5 months, that’s been in there, just incase,” 

“Yeah, well I’d prefer the date,” 

“Are you flirting?” 

“Maybe,” She smirked

“Watch it old man. Don’t want you having a heart attack trying to keep up,” You laughed,as you stood and grabbed your jacket, “I believe we promised each other a date.”

London was warm unsurprisingly, given the time of year. The bar was empty given the fact it was a Tuesday, you ordered a drink for yourself and some juice for the doctor, “I guessed and said apple because I figured you did not want alcohol,” you said taking a seat at the table she had picked. 

“I could love it, you never know,” She replied,  you proceeded to offer her your drink, she took a sip and made an odd face “Ok nevermind then, I take it back,”

“In my defence, your new face might have liked it, not my fault I didn’t know,”

“Definitely not for me,” She stuck her tongue out after her comment. You talked for hours despite the glares of the slightly annoyed bar staff, telling stories of space travel and times long gone, or the times yet to come

“I’ve never visited victorian england, I imagine it would be nice. Those were always assigned to someone else,” You said suddenly 

“We could go if you’d like, another date, sightsee and do a bunch of touristy things, meet the queen, I’m sure she wouldn’t recognise me with this face,”

“I feel like it’s somewhere I'd like to go to before I die, like I’d save it for a bucket list, a sort of time bucket list,” You rambled. That was a sobering reminder for the doctor, the way you looked at her, a bittersweet happiness in your eyes and a knowing smile, a different version of you compared to the one in front of her.

“Travel with me, please.” You gave her a look “I know what you said, but we’re finally synced up again, what’s the worst that could happen. I doubt they’d notice you gone, you essentially just sit in your office and try to avoid boredom all day, you might as well travel.” 

“Fine, you aren’t going to drop it until I agree so yes, I’ll travel with you,” You said finishing what was left of your drink, she had already stood up a giddy smile clear on her face. The Doctor pulled you to your feet, “c’mon, need to do some maintenance on the TARDIS and we’ll meet up with the others and go somewhere.”

[what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me]

The Best Laid Plans

> Chapter 1: The Sighting< Chapter 2

Summary:

Five of the finest minds that Planet Earth has to offer are brought together by a mission that will forever live in history. They are the crew of Humanity's paragon starship and they pave the way for future explorers.

The mission goes wrong when the existence of sentient aliens is confirmed. 

AO3

Notes: this fic is inspired by the concept of Among Us, but you don’t need to know the game to enjoy this story. CW: anxiety attack

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The announcement that Humanity was done being alone was met with skepticism. Such an ambitious but vague mission statement made by the government seemed like an empty promise. 

Thomas remembered where he was when he saw it. It was a fall afternoon, during the slow lull between lunch and dinner, the TV in the corner was on the news channel. Thomas ended up joking with his coworkers about shaking hands with aliens while working at a coffee shop to pay off college debt. They all laughed and forgot about it because preparing for the next influx of customers was more important. 

The promise of The Day Dream did not seem like much until the ship began to be built. Then there were whispers of scouts visiting every small town and city, looking for any suitable candidates to join the crew. That was when he - and all of humanity - got swept up into the high. 

Everybody on Earth began paying attention to the exploration program, excitement for the future in those times was so common you could smell it in the air. By the time The Day Dream launched, everybody could tell you that they remembered where they were. There was more news coverage of their starship leaving the snaring grip of the atmosphere than the first moon landing. 

If Thomas ever got the opportunity, he would joke that he remembered the launch as if he were a pilot on the starship. 

Thomas, in his humble opinion, believed it took a different kind of person to drive a spaceship than it took to build one. Just getting something off of Earth was a feat that took hundreds of years. What got them this far was perfecting and going beyond the work of other humans long dead. Amassing a hoard of refined science until they made a tower of knowledge that could reach the stars. 

And Humanity did reach the stars. He was their cherry-picked ambassador. It was his job to lead the mission to create a stable bridge for future space farers. Both in the literal and diplomatic sense. Thomas still could not believe the honor was his.

But the Captain's disbelief is besides the point. The engineers and scientists who made The Day Dream were a brilliant crew who did not get enough recognition. The marvel of it all lie in how alive the ship felt. It felt so human. The engineers and the scientists outdid themselves.

The question the build team had to tackle was how to make long term space travel enjoyable. Was it possible to make a hollow metal vessel feel more like home than their planet ever was? All Thomas knows is during the short time he has been the pilot, he had concluded the answer must be yes. That is where the recognition fell short, Thomas thinks. Despite being hailed as a genius by Earth's media, his mind could not even begin to figure out how they did it.

Too bad the media was strictly forbidden from even looking at the ship. If they could not experience the wonder for themselves, there was no reason to write about it. To them it was just a glorified vessel, not unlike any other means of transport. Snooping into the lives of its personnel was more tangible for the press. Usually more rewarding too. 

The press had been suffocating. Thomas was relieved to be off that planet. 

There was nothing remarkable about him. Or anybody else here, he likes to think to himself. They are all wonderful people to be traveling with, brilliant minds, but not remarkable. Because he is as Human as the rest of them, and the pedestal they perched him on was one of sand. Just the lightest breeze and he will be lost to time. 

Now that he is living out every child's wildest dream, he knows. The Day Dream 's crew and their prestigious schooling meant nothing to the universe. But it was an honor to get to know the universe a bit better nonetheless. 

The ship woke it's Captain up with a gentle chime. 

And when Thomas did not get up the first time, the ship brightened the lights in his room. Very suddenly. 

That got Thomas' attention. The Day Dream could not do more than follow the alarms already set, unless something major triggered the override system. There were no klaxon alarms or notifications marked as urgent, so Permission from another administrator was needed for the lights to turn on. That meant the ship snitched on him to somebody already awake. Dream is getting smarter, Thomas laughed to himself. And this ship is full of traitors who think eight in the morning is an acceptable time to be awake. 

Jokes about betrayal aside, he knew there would at least be fresh caffeine waiting in the cafeteria. 

Thomas got out of the warm sleeping pod with a stretch that popped his back. The metal floors in his quarters were heated, but only enough to starve off frostbite. The cold making his toes curl woke up Thomas better than the lights. A chime from his com ringed across the room, listing duties for the day. He assured the ship that he would be present for the breakfast meeting requested by Roman in a timely manner. 

His loose definition of "timely manner" was to allow an optimal window to collect thoughts and set his 187th day in space up for success. The captain played music from home as he got ready. The bathroom was like every other room; spacious, clean, and bursting with plant life. The air never felt stuffy and the crew suspects (Patton, who was on the ship's build team, confirmed) it was designed that way. To help with homesickness.

The Day Dream was huge. Excessively so. The ship was only meant to only house five humans long term - and maybe, just maybe, any extraterrestrial life they will come across. For now, the rooms set aside for any new life would be empty. That meant some days, when everyone was too busy to spend time with anybody else, it felt like the plants growing in every nook and cranny of the rooms and hallways were his only companions. But business was business. And at the end of the day, nobody held it against each other. Today thankfully would not be like that.

Thomas pulled on the boots of his pristine white jumpsuit before he left his quarters. The doors locked behind him with a pneumatic hiss and the hall lights flicked on, illuminating his path one by one. There was a spring in his step as he made way through the maze of tall hallways. He barely acknowledged the sound of running water and smell of earth on either side of the metal path. The self sustained irrigation system was always at work, and with the wildflowers that started to bloom recently as a result in this part of the ship, any irritation was rendered null.

He arrived at the cafeteria where it was quiet, besides the ever present humming and the drip drip drip of the ship running itself. The caffeine dispenser had been preheated. Logan and Roman seemed to have already got to it. Virgil could do with the energizing benefit of caffeine if it was not for his anxiety disorder. Both crewmates were lounging in padded seats, a steaming cup in one hand and green flashing screens taking the rest of their attention. Thomas guessed they were reviewing the information about the meeting he was called for. Virgil, who seemed not to be fully awake yet, was slowly picking off the contents of his ration packet. 

"Where is Patton?" He flushed slightly at the outburst. Asking that before anything else was not his intention. 

Luckily nobody seemed to mind. Logan and Virgil turned their heads to him and acknowledged the captain with a good morning. Closing out of the menu, Logan answered, "I believe he was sanctioned an extra sleep cycle after the extended work he did last night. The ship refuses to go through the wake up procedures."

He lifted an eyebrow. "I don't think I ever gave the order for that. But The Day Dream can override an order if it seems necessary. What the hell was Patton doing last night?"

"He was helping me in the final stages of building the gate."

Thomas turned to look at Roman. "He-," that was not supposed to be possible. "The gate is supposed to be done next month, our fabricator can't work that fast."

"That's what I thought at first! But two weeks ago while helping me troubleshoot a problem, he found our combined efforts cleaved the build time in half!" 

Virgil chimed in, like it was news to him, "That's great, Princey. But how are we sure the quality was not compromised?"

"I'm so glad you asked bec-"

Logan cut Roman off. "We are sure because I have been keeping a close eye on the progress and have taken sporadic samples of the material. I also use the ship to ensure my analysis has no human errors."

"You'll have to send those numbers to me for final approval before we tell Mission Control. But this is amazing news! Why is this the first time i have heard about this?"

Suddenly Logan lost any confidence he had, and needed to pull up a screen again. Virgil deadpan looked at him and shrugged, going back to picking at his rations. Thomas managed to catch Roman's eyes and he cringed slightly, picking at his nails. "Well… we thought you would be angry that we didn't follow orders."

Thomas lifted a hand to his heart without registering that it happened. They thought that he would be angry? He never has shown that emotion to them then why? Was there a power imbalance here? Were they afraid of him or just the consequences of "disobedience". Of course, he always encouraged his crew to pursue and perfect science, just like the builders of the ship did. As long as nobody got hurt-

-and then he remembered about Patton. Why would the ship override a wake up protocol, especially if ordered by anybody, if there was not a reason? But he could not… Jumping to conclusions would not help. 

He sighed, Roman tensed but Thomas did not acknowledge it. "I'm not angry, Ro. You did a fantastic job."

"So we won't get punished?" It was small, hopeful.

"At most, you will be reprimanded with a tighter schedule, but that will be determined after investigation."

An investigation was not something he needed on his plate but apparently was now mandatory. Thomas did not want to say it out loud, but based on what he can tell, if the crew let Patton overwork himself, the strict schedule might go through. Like it or not, the existing schedule was in place for a reason and having his copilot out of commission could spell disaster for the mission and it's crew. The ship felt so safe, so much like home, but they were at the mercy of a cruel universe, anything can go wrong. 

Yet the small smile that broke out on Roman's face after getting his praise was too good to ruin. 

Thomas would indulge in a moment of weakness and lie. 

He only realised there was tension in the room when the air slowly became more breathable. He let himself enjoy a warm drink from the dispenser and his own share of rations before getting to work. He had the mind to have one of the ship's drones deliver food and drink to Patton's room to have when he woke up. Then Thomas glanced at the data himself. All the numbers and samples that Logan had run seemed to be perfect. He ran through the calculations manually himself to be sure. Still perfect.

So it was off to Mission Control. The message explained that his crew found a way to make the Star Gate mission more efficient. Surely, this was another thing they would be praised about. All of it was almost done.

"Roman, Mission Control has the data tables now. All we need to do is the final inspection before we can set course to Moon Titan." Thomas broke the news in a sing-song voice. Everybody in the room grew visibly excited. Thomas was almost sad that Patton was not here to complete their little crew. 

"That is fantastic!"

Logan hesitated before asking, "Was my work adequate to your standards?" 

Thomas nodded enthusiastically, "It had no errors I could catch, so you did great, Teach." The captain could have left it there, but he was feeling as exuberant as the rest of them. "In matter of fact, do you want to begin the system checks so we can be ahead of schedule for the journey to Moon Titan?" The gleam in Logan's eyes spoke volumes more than the affirmative confirmation he gave. Virgil had jumped at the opportunity to join and the two ventured off into the expansive halls of the ship. 

Roman was already at Thomas's heels when the two men left the room. "Do you want me to escort you to the hull of the ship? I believe you have a date with my wonderful creation." 

Thomas could not hide his admittedly dopey smile if he wanted to. This man and his dramatics did a lot to keep the ship lively. He accepted the offer, and let Roman do most of the talking while they descended through the guts of the ship. Plant life slowly became less abundant and the mechanical whirls and pulses became louder. When they stopped at the door of a decontamination chamber, Roman gestured to a wall of headsets.

"Personal protective equipment is mandatory past this point," Roman said, an apologetic smile on his face. 

Thomas did not comment on the fact that Roman added a personal touch to his headset. The paint was a vibrant red and the acrylic of the earmuffs seemed to glow. His own pair was only cold and metallic, and Thomas briefly noted he had no idea how long ago Roman added those changes. He could see in the cabinet that Patton had a similar headset, but in the teal color he loved so much. He would have to have The Day Dream permit more time in this part of the ship. 

Today was a successful day but something unsavory was settling into his core. Thomas was a bit out of the loop with his crew, he was starting to realize.

He swallowed down the inklings of a bitter taste and turned to the cabinet containing more mandatory protective wear. He would not take it personally. He slipped a hazmat suit over the jumpsuit. Thomas and the rest of the crew were just coworkers. Black gloves slipped over his sleeves and closed with a snap! They were all friendly, sure, but this was a science expedition, not a family road trip. The spotless boots he normally wore were left in one of the lockers, swapped out for steel toe boots. If his happy-go-lucky mood had suddenly dropped he did nothing to fix it.

Thomas followed Roman into the decontamination lock without a word.

As they exited, Roman clapped his hands and he saw the walls come alive around him. This area was lined with pods containing work assistant androids lit up and awaiting commands. His crewmate fiddled with a personal command key secured on his wrist, the assistants moved in synch around their feet, opening the doors to the hull. It was a massive room, bigger than most warehouses on Earth. It was perfectly suited for projects this size and storing the raw materials needed to make the Star Gates.

Hung on the ceiling of the room was the largest fabricator on the ship. Other smaller ones were littered about in rooms like that cafeteria and navigation, but were only capable of producing small objects. The machine, though modeled after a vintage 21st century machine called a 3D printer, was cutting edge. All it needed was raw material and a recipe to follow. On a raised platform below it lay the gate.

"I always forget how massive these are in person," Thomas breathed reverently. The smallest section was the length of a school bus, and sprawled much further than that.

"We put a Star Gate up on the Moon not even three months ago, Sir," Roman laughed. Thomas crossed his arms in mock anger, making Roman laugh more.

He had a point, though. Before The Day Dream is permitted to leave the solar system, it is their job to leave gates. Not every spaceship is created equal, only government sanctioned ships are allowed to have a warp core. Warp cores allow for a ship to change the very fabric of space around a ship, changing the location instantaneously. Teleportation is the unofficial name for it. But space travel would be too slow even if they had learned how to go beyond the speed of light.

The solution had been Star Gates. These opened up worm holes for ships that did not have access to warping. The gates were to be left at popular destinations. A trip to the moon that might have taken six months only took an hour. Soon a trip to Moon Titan, which revolved around Saturn, was in order. The possibility that it might contain life made it a hotspot for researchers. Their final goal was to leave a gate at Pluto, then the true expedition could begin. Once the path for other explorers is paved, The Day Dream will be allowed to search for sentient life. For now they were to travel with solar sails while waiting for each gate to be built.

Roman pointed Thomas to a messy desk, "Your checklist should be on there." Thomas, however, was lost. He opted to watch as Roman walked up to a group of assistants drones and dismissed them. The new ones that followed Roman and Thomas in picked up on the work as the old ones backed into charging ports. As they met eyes, he shook his head in a gesture he hoped communicated his confusion.

Roman got the memo, because he jogged to where Thomas stood, looking over his shoulder. He leaned into Thomas' shoulder to pick up the empty report and handed Thomas the tablet with a flourish. The almost-contact felt nice. Thomas made a mental note to ask Mission Control about the correlation between space travel and being touch starved.

There was not time to linger on that though, because Roman was too ecstatic to wait. He personally showed Thomas the work that he and Patton had done. Every individual thing he crossed out on the list pointed to a success. Two hours spent inspecting seams, double checking wiring, and doing strength tests went by without notice and soon Thomas forgot about any bad mood he was in because it was done!

"I can't wait to deliver this to Mission Control!"

Roman was not quite used to seeing the captain as anything other than a collected leader, but this change was good. "So we passed the final inspection?"

"With flying colors."

His smile brightened. "I bet we should start preparing for our warp to Moon Titan."

Thomas gave his approval, and Roman started to conduct the service drones around him like a symphony. Mission Control replied minutes later and Thomas knew everybody who was not occupied saw that the clearance to warp had been granted. As the complete Star Gate was being pushed to the path that lead to the bay, he waved Roman goodbye.

He walked back through the decontamination chamber and set the protective gear he had been wearing into a bin for specific cleaning. Setting his appearance back into place did not take long, and soon he was led away from the smell of grease and metal to the more comforting crisp air of the upper levels.

Logan appeared by his side just a moment later. "I have the results of the diagnostics scan ready for you, Sir."

"Are we all clear?"

"Sadly not." Logan shook his head and turned a tablet for him to look at. "The lower right corner of the starboard solar sail has significant damage."

"I bet it was stray debris," Thomas shifted on his feet before asking, "Can we go without it?"

Logan hated to be the bearer of bad news, "We can, but our navigation route will need to be recalculated completely."

It made sense, Thomas thought. Even subtle shifts in angle can land them in a completely different location then intended. He thought about it a little longer. "I think we should fix the problem now, the Moon Titan base won't miss an extra day without us."

"Yes sir. I'll send Roman a request to prepare the right materials for the patch. Do you know who is to accompany you on the space walk?"

Thomas shook his head. Logan took the screen back from Thomas to open up the schedule log. "Patton would have been ideal, but he is still out of commission. I recommend Virgil."

.

.

In half of a day, they were ready. It was easy for Thomas to report the damage reports to Mission Control, to state they wish to run repairs before anything else, and for the approval for the small mission to be granted.

For the second time that day, Thomas went through the task of putting on personal protective wear, but joined by Virgil and a lifeless service drone. The solar sail patch and other needed tools were handled by the drone. Thomas knew the ship better than the medic did, so he and the drone would be the one doing most of the work. Virgil was to be the one communicating with Mission Control so Thomas could focus and he was a second pair of eyes to ensure nothing went wrong.

Virgil probably was the one who took this task the most serious, only bested by Logan. Soon enough, the small group was seen out of the airlock by Logan and Roman, and the repairs were under way.

Virgil knew space walks were consequential. If he lost focus at the wrong moment there was every possibility he could end up drifting in space. If Thomas noticed in time, he could have Logan or Roman retrieve him by using one of the smaller ships in the bay. But that possibility weighed heavily on a " if".

Every space walk before this one went off without a hitch. But Virgil's stomach was turning uncomfortably and his ears were straining to pick up anything.

He knew sound can not travel in space.

Pesky instincts were screaming that something was wrong. He needed to pay attention, be alert and ready to fight. Protect himself, The Day Dream , and all the lives within it. Something bigger, smarter than him was lurking in the unforgiving void behind him. A predator, surely, with steps quiet as a leopard midhunt, and a maw stronger than any alligator. That means twice as painful. Three times as ruthless. The crowning crux of slaughter machines, delivered to the doorstep of the spaceship by Mother Nature herself and her sick sense of humor.

But when he turned around, the only thing he was was Thomas crouched over the massive solar sail, the ship under his feet, and the stars.

It might be just anxiety. Might. No, is. It has to be just anxiety. He should trust his eyes. Because he knows his mind is not rational when he gets like this. He will not think normal until it passes. He will not because it is impossible. Something is wrong. What is making him like this? This morning Virgil did not intake any caffeine, and his nutrition logs of the rest of the day indicate no other food-born anxiety stimulates. He even took the anxiety suppressant prescribed by his therapist on Earth this morning, like every morning before.

Nothing is wrong. Why does he feel so unsafe? He does not like it, he does not like the fear for his life-

He was spiraling. His vision blanked and he did not register Thomas' questioning voice over the com. Virgil's senses did not register in the moment, except for smell. Because this smell was out of place. The instinct was right, right, rIgHt . Somet h in g waS wRoNG. Was his suit breached? Oh stars have mercy he was going to die right here, wasn't he? The foreign scent of ozone filled his suit a split second before he felt it.

ZAP!

Then… nothing.

Well nothing was not the right word for it, because there was his beating heart and the sound of blood rushing through his own body. It was the shock of everything feeling regular again. Like a reset button was pressed. The universe must have felt merciful today for that alien feeling did not hurt. It felt wrong, invasive. Very much like burning and bright electricity had just reached into every crevice of his body. The feeling was uninvited and deeply intrusive. But it did not hurt.

He was so shocked in that moment he forgot about that spiral before it came back. He could feel Thomas by his side, a hand on his shoulder. Despite the fog of an anxiety creeping into his system, it was strangely grounding.

"-gil, this is my final time requesting this. If you do not answer me now then we have to null this mission."

That was Thomas. Not invasive ozone-electricity from the stars, his mocking self doubt, or a intrusive thought deadset on letting him break. It was his captain, a man he trusted. His authoritative voice rang through a speaker in his helmet, not even a hint of static. And he wanted an answer, right. "I'm present, sir. Sorry."

The relief in Thomas' heart was tangible. Though he knew Virgil could not see through the glare of the visor, he smiled for him anyways. He had been worried! The captain moved closer and held his hand over the vitals monitor on Virgil's suit. Virgil did not push him away so he started the mandatory scan. "I'm glad to have you back. We need to check your vitals and suit systems before proceeding with anything."

"Sorry, sir. I believe I had an anxiety attack," he explained with an unsteady voice. "My senses didn't register except for a weird smell. Ozone, I think? And I felt a weird zap before I got over it."

Thomas encouraged the explanation. They would go over the audio logs later and archive this incident. Any possible suit malfunctions needed to be reported to Mission Control. Then they would report it to Roman, who will use the fabricator to replace the faulty one. These reports are endless, Thomas thought, tired. It did not end there. If they expended those resources, they would need to get more raw materials. That was all in a day's work, though. Maybe he could get Virgil off of the space walk roster if being out of the ship was a trigger. While a pleasure to work with, his mental health came first to convenience.

He was reading off the screen now. "Your adrenaline levels are spiked, but that is expected. Your hormones outside of stress response are normal. The O2 levels in your blood are normal. You have six hours of oxygen left in your tank. All the circuits are operational-"

"Thomas!" Virgil's voice ran in through the coms, an uncharacteristically urgent tone ringing in his ears. It threw him for a loop and he did not answer fast enough. The results of Virgil's vital scans were all positive, did he say something to make it worse? And then again, louder, "Thomas, please!"

"Is... everything alright?"

"No! Yes? I- um, Maybe?"

A trickle of unease settled deep in the Captain's core. "What is going on?"

"I think I saw something flying, and I don't- We need to go back inside, Thomas please. I can't do this right now."

He listened.

The mission was called null right then and there and he picked up a few pieces of the repair kit with a haste to satisfy his crewmate. The repair drone was following behind them, unaffected by the events.

But the strangest feeling ran through his body when he reached his hand out to Virgil.

He let out a gasp in surprise, and Virgil heard it over the still connected com link. It was the gentle tickle of electric curiously dancing in and out of every nook and cranny of his body. It was quizzical, and embodied a researcher like him.

As it left, he swore the smell of ozone lingered in his suit and that he too saw something move in the corner of his eye. The shape of a black triangle. Massive and looming and definitely not natural and definitely something he was scared of. He could only tell it was there because the stars disappeared behind it. A row of lights flickered on, and Thomas was paralyzed. Virgil had seen it too, but responded by dragging his stupefied captain to the airlock with unprecedented urgency.

It was gone suddenly as it came.

[citadelsushi]

Writing meme: If you can't be happy, at least you can be drunk.

Hey! Remember forever ago when I asked for prompts and you sent me this one? Thank you and I finally wrote something for it. 

Apparently, Avory is angry tonight so, um, yeah. It is what it is. 

Avory Shepard wishes it rained in space. Never more so than when she was on Omega. The fresh scent of a spring rain would do a hell of a lot to improve the rotten, recycled air on a space station. She misses the shift in light on the clouds like natural neon as a storm rolled out and the steady pitter patter on a roof. She misses choosing whether to see the rain as a rebirth or as a decadent fuel to prolong her foul mood.

Tonight, tonight, she wants to be miserable and she’ll give about anything to drink herself to sleep under a soggy roof. It’s only fitting.

She snarls at the thought - so fucking dramatic - and swallows the rest of her beverage with bitter determination.

“No fuckin’ way.” A man’s dumbfounded voice rises louder than the other murmurs of surprise at her return to life. “If it ain’t Commander Shepard.” 

He sneers her name with enough venom that her spine goes rigid and her grip tightens on her glass, ready to smash it against his temple. She has no friends on Omega. No friends left anywhere, possibly. No armor or weapons, currently, forgone in hopes that any implanted Cerberus listening devices would be left behind as well. Well, unless they implanted them in her body, as well. She cringes at the thought. It’s not out of the realm of possibility. Apparently, nothing is.

“I thought you were dead.”

She doesn’t intend to give a response. But the man slides into a seat next to her and she shifts -subconsciously, enabling a wider range of motion - enough that she makes eye contact.

She thought he sounded familiar. She says his name flatly, “Finch.”

“You don’t seem as surprised to see me.”

Truthfully, she is a little shocked. It’s been over a year - over three years - since she last saw him on Earth. While his was not the largest or most impressive fire she’s ever set to a bridge, they had parted on barely civil terms. Seeing him here, now, made zero fucking sense.

In all cases except one. 

“Takes more than a rat to surprise me, anymore.”

The bartender approaches. Shepard lifts a finger, asks for one more. 

Finch tells the bartender, “On me.”

“Better make it two, then.” 

The bartender almost laughs.

“This what you’re up to these days? Came back to life just to drink in some shithole on Omega?”

Avory does laugh. Tight and hollow and bitter. “Worry about your fuckin’ self, Finch. Cerberus got you spying on me, too?” Lower, mostly to herself, she mutters, “Fuckin’ figures they’d dig up every old connection still living.” Completely to herself, she thinks she should just kill him now. One less thread for Cerberus to follow.

“Whoa, what? Cerberus? So you’ve heard?” 

“Been dead for two years, dumbass. I haven’t heard shit.”

“The Reds split up. Splintered, really. After you… ya’ know… it wasn’t the same.”

Ya’ know. She coughs a laugh. It’s a casual way to reference a massacre, even by her standards. 

But Finch rolls on, “A lot of us joined other merc groups. CAT 6. Blue Suns. Some of the more hardcore guys went to Cerberus.”

The bartender places two drinks in front of her and she eagerly takes a swig from the first glass. She didn’t plan to get fucked up when she snuck away from the SR2 - she couldn’t keep her guard up as high as she needed to around Miranda if she was drunk off her ass- but old habits die hard. And fuck if old friends didn’t bring those habits back to life with skill on par with the Lazarus project.

“Oh, so you’re hardcore, now?.”

“Don’t talk shit, Shepard. Word has it you're on a Cerberus ship now yourself.”

She finishes glass number one in two swallows. Her face is not nearly numb enough for how much she’s drunk. “Am I?” She looks around, feigning confusion. “And here I thought I was in a bar.”

“Shepard - ”

“The fuck did you think you’d accomplish, comin’ over here? A walk down memory lane?” She’s so angry her saliva feels like motor oil on her tongue. “Fill in the blanks in my record for Cerberus? Crazy, huh? They put my brain back together, all of me is here, but they don’t have all the details. Must drive them insane. They offer you a fat bonus if you got me to talk?”

Finch flinches. “You are such a fucking twat.”

“Good to see you, too, Finch.” She turns away from him and waves a dismissive hand. “Now fuck off.”

He stands from his seat and turns to leave, but turns on his heel at the last second, slams both palms on the bar. To the bartender, he calls, “Keep ‘em coming for this one. My tab.” And to Shepard, he says, “There. If you can’t be happy, at least you can be drunk.”

Shepard flashes an empty, satirical smile. “Who says I’m not happy?”

Finch eyes her warily and Shepard thinks, maybe, she is starting to feel the alcohol because it almost sounds like genuine concern in his voice when he says, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you happy. Not really.”

And then, to her genuine surprise, he does leave.

She watches him disappear into the crowd, stiffly moving through a throng of dancers, with her eyes narrowed. Internally cursing him for showing up. For making her remember the last time she saw him, the day she nearly wiped the Reds off the face of the Earth entirely. The night she returned to the SR1, the real Normandy. The night Kaidan had stayed up awaiting her return, tended to her wounds, told her he wasn’t going anywhere…  

Shepard spins on her seat back to the bar. She chugs the second glass until ice cubes fall down her chin. Fuck Cerberus. They had to have known. Had to have sent him to find her. Had to have crafted the perfect interaction, the perfect line, to throw her past happiness in her face. Because, damnit, she had been happy. She had been happy before the Reds betrayed her. Before Akuze. Before Alchera. Before Cerberus.

In that moment, whiskey on her tongue, wicked thoughts running rampant, a genuine smile stretched across her lips.

She had been happy before and she would be happy again. 

No matter who paid the price.

[jjba-hell]

Fate and Fortune

I don’t know if this can be classified as Part 2.5 or Part 3... y’know let’s go with Part 3

Content warnings: pretty mild if not for the ominous feel, abandonment themes and some possible PTSD, nightmares and sleep paralysis (implied but not mentioned) and maybe some blood but not gore or violence.

So the big explanation I’m putting down for this one is that Vera holds the Wheel of Fortune as her stand- as I’ve said, my canon now, the one in canon do not exist ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ. I’ll probably elaborate on how it works later, for now- you’re getting breadcrumbs -w-

For the lovely @risottoneroo (please lemme know if I should cool it with the tagging lol (*´ω｀*)

Part 1

Part 2

1.4 K words

It had been a few months since the incident in the place Vera once called home. Sitting at a café, overlooking the river Nile, Avdol and Vera had just polished off a pot of tea together. It was somewhat a celebratory brunch, Muhammed Avdol had won custody over Vera Astbury- the big benefactor that was sponsoring her schooling abroad being what won the courts over in his favor.

“So, who is this oh so generous benefactor?” She asked as she brought the cup to her lips once more- hoping she was veiling her distaste at being shipped to a boarding school in the following months well enough behind polite banter. If this idea was Avdol’s or the benefactor’s idea, she was still unsure- but her reluctance remained.

“You’ll meet Mr Joestar as soon as he returns for business in England. You really don’t have to break your head about who he is until then. I’ll keep you updated.”

Avdol had a tendency to avoid speaking on the court processions for her custody. She’d been upset by both her families’ reluctance to take her in at her time of need, the bags she’d packed to be shipped to one them, standing in Avdol’s living room for one too many weeks. Until he cleared a room for her and asked her to unpack.

The smile tugged at the corner of her lips without her knowing. Avdol caught the gesture and calmly placed his cup of tea back in its saucer. “And now I wonder- what could have made my answer so amusing?”

Vera shrugged as she swirled the stray tea leaves around the bottom of her cup. “For a moment you sounded like my dad-“ her smile slid off her face as the tea leaves settled.

Divination by tea leaves was something she’d laughed at when Avdol first taught her about it but now- with all her readings, even the ones she did unintentionally as practice to get a feel for how much tea she needed to move the tea leaves around- all ended in the same black dog figure stalking the bottom edges of her cup.

To her, it felt as though she was plunged ankle deep into the tea in the bottom of the cup, as though the image mirroring her own grief and fear in the tea leaves would consume her as well.

A graceful brown hand stretched over the mouth of the cup, obstructing her view of the leaves.

“You know better than to read into your predictions now. You need to grieve first.”

Vera’s gaze met Avdol’s across the table, the concerned frown on his face enough to remind her that she wasn’t completely alone.

“Would you have me organise a psychologist at the boarding school for you?” He sighed as he withdrew his hand from her cup.

She chuckled and cringed at the same time. “I appreciate you looking out for me but I am not looking forward to leaving.”

“I know, Vera. But whatever or whoever was after you hopefully won’t leave Egypt for you. And… now don’t look at me like that. No matter how desperately you want revenge, you’re much too young to go out and look for that kind of trouble.”

Vera reverted her scowl to a smirk, she wasn’t going to fight him, the last thing she wanted was to seem ungrateful for what he was doing for her. “Watch out Avdol- if you let me get too far under your skin, I’ll give you grey hairs.”

His eyebrow shot up as he folded his hands into his robe sleeves- “You underestimate my tolerance, Vera. I know you jest most of the time, even if its just a way for you to cope.”

Vera’s words caught in her throat- the clever retort gone before she could give it some voice. With a clear of her throat she folded her hands on the table. “Perceptive. I’ll keep quite then, I know when I’m outwitted.”

“I thought so.” Avdol chuckled, signalling the waiter for the bill.

Living with Avdol had turned into an agreeable co-habitation, a bit of an adjustment for both of them but she felt safe under Avdol’s protection.

In terms of basic necessity she was well taken care of- physchologically she was still struggling.

To Vera, the development of her stand did the exact opposite to what she felt like it was supposed to do- or at least what Avdol had told her it would do. Instead of manifesting her own strength, she felt more vulnerable.

Avdol had shown his own stand to her once he realized she had some control over her own. Magician’s Red radiated an intense heat that felt like it would suffocate her if he left them out in the room too long. They were considerably larger and more opaque than her stand- intense glare matching their user’s.

“I call them Magician’s Red,” Avdol had explained. “You will find the name for your stand soon, I’m sure.” At the time she shrugged off her own ability as useless. She was just a bit more lucky whenever she hovered her stand’s extended hand over a dice. She couldn’t image her stand setting having any more power than that- the envy of seeing Magician’s Red starting the bonfire outside one evening making itself evident.

To Vera, her stand only hovered a few inches above the her bed’s edge, cross-legged like a cat watching her struggle to make her limbs move or violently jerk herself out of a nightmare. It only let her feel guilty as she playfully stole a win from Avdol in a game of cards. Only a few weeks later she realized her stand could do more than steal luck.

“Ahhh shit.”

Avdol’s head popped in around the corner at her cradling her bleeding palm over the kitchen sink.

“What happened.”

“I dropped the knife and caught it at the blade.”

Avdol cringed as he ducked back into the hallway. “I’m getting the first aid kit.”

She pulled the unplugged the water in the other sink and turned the water on to run over her wound.

Without warning her stand emerged and took hold of her hand out of the water.

The dial that replaced their wrists twisted as they hovered their palm over hers.

Obstructed for a moment, Vera couldn’t figure out what was going on until the blood drops in the sink disappeared. For a moment she thought the water had rinsed it away but as her stand’s hand moved away from hers the wound in her hand was gone. Not even a scab left in its place.

“Now THAT is a useful trick.” Avdol laughed as her stand de-materialized, Vera turning her hand in front of her in disbelief.

Time and Fortune moved in tandem to one another- at least that was what her stand had her believe. Like time marched beside the changing seasons of the world, time was tied to the Wheel of Fortune.

On her last day in Egypt, Vera sat across Muhammed on the rooftop of his home.

“I see you’ve gotten a good grip on summoning your stand.” He hummed at her stand hovering just over her right shoulder. “Their presence is strong, much less translucent than it used to be.”

Between them sat a tarot deck she had bought on a whim- it’s maker had gingerly opened the box and let her run her hands through the cards, it’s irredescent gold beauty captivating her.

“How much?” She said as she pulled her wallet from her bag.

It was her very own deck and now- with the cards already shuffled and placed face down between them for a reading, she was ready to start her first reading with them.

“Let’s hope there’s not a Death Card for this reading.” Avdol sighed.

She smiled, spreading the cards out onto the dealing mat. With her intent set, she picked two cards- a card that would represent what she had to leave behind and a card that would name her stand.

The first card was flipped and the smug smile on Avdol’s face was all she needed to see.

Six of Swords reversed- “the Resistence to transition.”

Her gaze shot up at the cocky bastard, Vera groaning in frustration. “Yeah yeah yeah, I need to stop fighting my relocation.”

In defiance she flipped the second card and to no surprise the Wheel of Fortune card looked back at her.

“I wish I could say I was surprised.” She sighed.

Avdol chuckler quietly, “So how do you refer to them in your mind?”

Vera shrugged as she put her cards back together. “I just keep calling them Fortune in my head.” Her gaze looked her own stand over- it wasn’t particularly impressive, looking like painted terracotta stacked in disks to make up a body not too different in shape from her own.

“Suits them.”

With a heavy sigh Avdol rose up and guided her down the stairs where her bags and the Speedwagon foundation security stood waiting for her.

She assumed her benefactor must have been a higher up within said foundation if he was going this far to make sure she got the boarding school safely.

Vera rolled her window down and peered up at Avdol, a bitter smile on her face as she sat in the car and he remained standing outside.

“Don’t call me and tell me you’re lonely, this was your idea.” She taunted.

He rolled his eyes and then folded his hands over his forearms.

“I was hesitant to tell you this before but I think its fair you know.” He started and the words that followed had Vera floored.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever met to survive a stand fever. Keep that in mind before you think you’re too weak to go on your own.”

Vera’s widened gaze couldn’t look away from his face, as if her next blink was going to make him disappear before her very eyes.

“You’re serious? The first?”

That same sadness returned to Avdol’s eyes, but a mismatched smile returned briefly as he straightened up once again and with a fold of his hands into his sleeves said: “Don’t let that information go to your head.”

Vera smiled back, watching the window roll up between them and Avdol become smaller in the rear windscreen.

“Oh, this talk is far from over Muhammed Avdol.”

[lizardrosen]

@eirenical also asked "..and omg is it terrible to want to know about literally all your Les Mis, Narnia, and Star Wars WiPs?? Because I kind of want to know about all of them. XD" on my wip post

Les Mis

SINGING THE SONG OF ANGRY MEN is just my catch-all les mis doc from before I transferred everything from Word to Scrivener, meaning everything in there is before reading the book. I was probably really unfair to Cosette because i thought of her as competition for Eponine's happiness. Anyway, have a e/R fic i wrote based purely on dash osmosis, and complete with misspellings!

resurrection? was just a really strong image i had to write out and was always curious what the larger story would be. Basically Grantaire is smiling soppily at Enjolras and then thinks "That was before they died" and is sad and thoughtful about The Ideal.

Gray Is Okay - turns out I've already posted this one on tumblr! Grantaire and Enjolras talk about pronouns and convictions and uncertainty!

brietbart online - short fic where Enjolras gets himself worked up over right wing newspapers because “It’s good to know how the enemy thinks” and Grantaire helps him calm down. (Pretty sure this one was inspired by someone being Very Extremely Wrong about one of my favorite episodes of star trek, and then I noticed the source) This wasn't very good writing and it wasn't really going anywhere, so I'm never going to post it.

“Please Come Inside” - Enjolras is greyromantic and mostly he just loves all his friends, but he has a queerplatonic relationship with Courfeyrac which slowly develops into (possibly?) romantic attraction, and he's very confused and upset by this internal change and has to Process.

from my vague notes:

at some point they end up at a chinese restaurant because courfeyrac calls it "the ultimate comfort food" enjolras always makes a token protest when they go, but he secretly loves it just as much or more because salty foods are his weakness "we don't need to change anything we're doing," courfeyrac says as he stabs at an egg roll with a single chopstick, "or we can. Uh, your choice. But no matter what I won't be ashamed of you, and i'll trust that you aren't ashamed of me." (courfeyrac is not aro-spec, but he did introduce enjolras to the term) and they talk about their feelings and enjolras's main fear, besides that he's not aromantic at all, is that he'll be forcing courfeyrac into the closet, because even if whatever-he's-feeling is close to what someone else might call romantic, he still Can Not bear to have himself called a boyfriend courfeyrac mostly just wants enjolras to be comfortable, and he's willing to take whatever form their relationship eventually comes

Friendlier Skies - this one's my les mis space au, with a bunch of shorter stories that all fit into the same solar system. One of my favorite elements is that the Gorbeau Building has been remixed into a ship that accepts literally anyone as passengers with no questions asked.

And the Narnia and Star Wars are going under a cut!

Narnia

Gallivanters is an AU where instead of being from Narnia, Caspian is just a Spanish transfer student at the boarding school where Edmund and Peter are, and they have a bunch of nerdy adventures. I'm pretty sure Caspian/Peter was endgame in my head, but i never got that far.

once a king or queen was just my catch-all Narnia doc. Lots of Edmund, lots of Susan, and one ficlet where Susan Pevensie and Carrie White talk about the family they've lost and the girls they don't need to be anymore. I swear I remember writing a lot of Jill and Eustace too, but it must have gotten lost when transferring computers.

Theory of Narnia - technically not a WIP anymore, but I used the plot of Narnia to write an essay explaining different Theory of Knowledge concepts for extra credit in high school. It had footnotes and everything!

To Fill Different Lives was a passion project for several years! It was supposed to be for a fic exchange in 2010 but it got too big for me and I had to drop out. It's Jadis after the Last Battle, recounting her history to no one because there's no one left. Many things about it make me cringe looking back at it, but I still looove this opening:

I have lived for a long time, long enough to fill several different lives. Looking back, I begin to realize just how similar all of these lives have been. Each time, I had power, but needed more. Each time, I chose a color and assumed it as a part of my identity. And each time, there was a boy.

Star Wars

There Will Be Light - oops, I already posted this one on tumblr too! Luke has bad dreams after Obi-Wan is killed, and Han comforts him. Not meant to be shippy but it definitely could be!

Qui-Gon lives (and somehow everything is worse??) - never got past the "vague chatting" stage, but our conversation started with this

lizardrosen: you know how qui-gon tells padme something like "i can only defend you, i can't fight a war for you" ? and then the jedi order DOES fight a war for the republic eirenical: YES. lizardrosen: how *pissed* would he have been if he'd lived to find out about kamino and the clones and all of that eirenical: *nodnodnod* I think about that a lot, actually. About how Qui-Gon would have dealt with the war. Somehow, I think it would have either broken him completely... or broken his compassion for others. AND I'M NOT SURE WHICH WOULD BE WORSE.

and then we talked about how qui-gon and obi-wan and anakin are a really solid trio for a long time, so it takes a long time to break qui-gon's compassion, but it happens hard, and "obi-wan and anakin are never quite able to be the dynamic duo; they'll always be three minus one but they try, they try so HARD"

Obi-Wan after Revenge of the Sith is just what it says on the tin. He's sad and alone and trying to connect to Qui-Gon, but not quite ready for him even when he does finally show up. This one also has a really good opening paragraph!

Everyone Obi-Wan loves is taller than him. Everyone he has loved? Used to love? No, he loves them still, even those gone from the world, or out of his grasp. He would have grown to love Luke and Leia too, tiny as they are, if given half the chance, which is exactly why he cannot allow himself to take that chance.

[unstoppableforcce]

a mistake ( 3 )

paring: Poe Dameron x Reader

previous part | next part

a/n: with a brief moment of inspiration, I managed to write this! I don’t know if it’s good, I don’t know what’s happening to my motivation but I like it so! as always, enjoy the pain :)

“Evening, Commander.”

Evening. That’s right, he reminded himself by stealing a glance out the window behind the bar, spotting the setting sun. It was evening.

He glanced to the source of the voice, just another solider who passed, giving him a firm clap on the back of his shoulder before moving along with the fervent crowd behind him.

It had been a slow day, not particularly hard but Poe took those the worst. A slow day meant free time, and free time for him could be dangerous. Free time was when the feelings of inadequacy seeped back in through the defensive layer of confidence he so carefully constructed. If he could occupy his hands, he could occupy his mind.

But free time. That was what drove him to the bar, alone, drink hanging loosely from his fingertips as the chaos of the cantina began to blur behind him. It was practically a miracle he even heard the soldier as they passed, had they not hit his shoulder, they probably would have disappeared along with the rest of his surroundings.

Even the bartender was beginning to blur, just a means to exchange the empty bottles in his hand for a new fuller one.

Your voice was clear.

“Uh- A correllian rum maybe.” It cut through the slurry of his senses, suddenly all he could hear.

He wasn’t sure how long you had been there or how you had managed to fight your way to the counter next to him anyways, but he didn’t mind it much either. He needed a distraction and the sight of you alone was certainly that.

Though, he must have been drunker than he realized because his stare was about as far from subtle as humanly possible.

“Evening Commander.” The words drew from your lips the second you turned to him, slow, sultry, clearly as intoxicated as he felt he was. Your hand combed your hair away from your face as you leaned on the counter, waiting for your drink and he swore he nearly melted.

But for the life of him, he couldn’t remember your name.

You were a mechanic, you worked on his ship, you had certainly caught his eye before and yet in the moment, feeling the drunken flush rushing to his cheeks at the mere sight of you, he couldn’t remember it.

“Hey.” Smooth Dameron, some of your best work. “You’re that mechanic right?”

He nearly wanted to cringe at his own words, but your laugh took him back out of his head.

“Yeah, just that mechanic.” You smirked back, returning the gentle scan he had given you, trailing your stare back over him as he had done to you. Though yours had the subtlety that his lacked, he almost missed it.

Or maybe he was drunk. Both were possibilities at this point, he would admit.

“Well, you already know my name.” He tried his hand at a similar smirk, but you turned away, towards the bartender as they passed you the drink.

And even though it was momentary, and your stare was back almost as quickly as it left, just the brief moment of losing your attention made him desperate to keep it for longer. It was a distraction. But it was also you. And he was quick to imagine he would have no problem allowing you to become all-encompassing.

“That I do, Commander.” You added back, and for a second, he was so caught up in you that he barely remembered what you were referencing. He had to blink a few times before he caught back up. When you offered your name, he was back to the present, nodding as your name became the only thing he wanted to repeat in his thoughts.

He couldn’t help himself any longer. “You drinking alone tonight?”

You scoffed into your drink, but you weren’t exactly running away. You stole a glance over your shoulder, back to the crowd, but he didn’t bother following it.

“Yeah, looks like it.” You trailed off as you turned back to him, the same smirk seeming a constant on your lips. “Why, are you?”

“I was.” Not anymore.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to stumble back to a room together, his room, as would quickly become the norm. His hands scaled up and down your form, hesitant at first then everywhere at once as your hands began doing the same.

By the time he got the door open, you were practically peeling the clothes off your body for him. Could you be blamed though? It was THE Commander Dameron. Talk of the base, hero to the alliance, best pilot in the—

“Commander-” The moan tore through you as he pulled your hips flush with his own. His skin was just as hot as his face had been, the tender tips of his calloused fingers tracing along your spine.

It was delicate and hungry. It was vulnerable and ferocious.

It was in no way surprising, from what you knew of his reputation, the way he trailed kisses down from your neck to your chest and even lower, it was a perfect description of him. He was kind, he had a pitifully caring heart and he conveyed just that with every press of his lips. But he was a fighter. He made quick work of discarding each article of clothing, nipping and gnawing in between each tender kiss.

You wanted to match his enthusiasm, but in your drunken state, though you were fully aware of what you wanted, you weren’t nearly as graceful in obtaining it. Pressing forward against his grip, pushing more power into the kiss as he returned to your lips, you tumbled the two of you back to the bed.

But any mortification stemming from your display of eagerness was washed away when he let out a soft laugh and tugged you back on top of him, in no way deterred by the change in position.

If anything, sitting with you in his lap was much easier. Not only was your presence, the echoing of your soft moans, and the heat of your skin already dizzying enough, but the ale was sitting heavy in head, and had you not pulled him down, he would have made the change anyways. There were no complaints, not a single one.

Each shift of his hips got you to release a flurry of sound into his neck, “Commander” falling from your lips over and over—

“Poe.” He groaned, out of breath, “Call me Poe.”

So you did.

“Poe—” “Poe—”

“Poe!” That wasn’t your voice. And the sound of a datapad slamming on the desk he sat behind…

He snapped back to reality, the visceral memory of you that first night melting away as the fluorescent surroundings came back around him. It was Leia’s office.

It was Leia talking to him.

“Poe…” She repeated, taking in his jump out of his head, watching as he settled back into reality. Her tone was more concerned than anything else, though, he had just fallen asleep mid-strategy discussion. If he deserved anything, it was her anger, not her concern.

“Sorry—I didn’t mean to—”

“When was the last time you got a good night’s sleep, Poe?”

He scoffed. It was all he was capable of given just how absurd her suggestion sounded in his mind. Flexing his fist open and closed, the bruises had slightly faded into a yellow color, but it didn’t hurt any less than it had right after he punched the wall outside your office.

It had been about a week. The longest kriffing week.

“I uh—I just,” he could barely form a sentence, stars, what were you doing to him. “It’s been a little.”

“What’s going on?” She settled into the seat next to him, setting her gentle hand on his arm where it rested on the armrest between them. “Is there anything I can—”

He pulled back from her touch, “No, it’s not—I’m fine, I’m okay.”

“You just fell asleep in the middle of a meeting Poe. You’re not fine.”

What defense did he have against that, she could practically look at him and know how he was feeling, now all she could do was stare and analyze him. And she was not a fan of what she was finding.

“Poe—”

“She broke things off, I guess.” He added, hiding his knuckles in his lap. “I don’t know.”

Her sigh was heavy, propping herself up on her hand to stare at him. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You know, she had some fears about us, about you knowing, and she’s my subordinate…”

He had to rub over his face, to wake himself up the rest of the way. Leia was the General, but she was more of a maternal figure to him, especially in moments like this. And with her gentle gaze, the care in her eyes, he couldn’t help but spill his heart out for her.

His poor and suffering heart.

“It is technically against the uniform code…” As if he didn’t already know that. “But it isn’t uncommon, Poe. It’s frowned upon but if you’re being smart and respecting the situation, I won’t demote you for it—”

“It’s more than that, it’s—”

Well it felt like it was him.

Whether demotion was on the table or not, it felt distinctly like the issue you took fault with was that it was him. That he was known and the second anyone found out, it would be you existing only in relation to him and not of your own merit. Which wasn’t fair and it was a completely legitimate fear because that was the way rumors spread on a base like this and—

And he hated it. He hated that there was nothing he could do, there was no part of that he could fix. He couldn’t stop being him. And he wasn’t about to ruin your career for something like casual sex.

Because the worst part of it all was how casual it was. That he didn’t have any part of you for real. That none of it was ever discussed. You fell into a rhythm together after that first night. But what was it really?

Given how easily you ended it, it certainly felt that you only thought it was casual sex.

At first, he would have agreed. Except now. Now the pain in his heart felt oddly reminiscent of love. A pain not too far from that of his knuckles. Because things were over and only now was he coming to terms with what he was feeling for you.

“I don’t know how to fix this.” He finally admitted to Leia, somehow managing to look up and meet her eye. “I can’t sleep, I can’t—”

“Poe, you can’t let this ruin you.”

“I know.” He sighed.

But it wasn’t simple, or at least it didn’t feel simple.

The first night had been pure need, his need for a distraction from everything, from the stress of it all, from his responsibility, from the heavy guilt weighing in his heart and the plaguing inadequacy that lingered in his veins.

But since that first night, he had, not that he would fully admit to it but, he had become a much different person. It was no longer a distraction but something he wanted to focus on more.

There was less stress, at least it was controllable as opposed to all-consuming as it had been. There were less sleepless nights, though losing you had certainly sent him spiraling back. He’d lay awake at night with his brain surging with every thought that you could make go away, every feeling that seemed to evaporate the second he pressed his lips to yours.

He would overthink everything but you. With you, he could just do.

There was no dwelling on the past, there was only imagining a future.

He couldn’t do it anymore. He needed to find you.

It was the evening as he escaped Leia’s office on a quest to do just that, the sun just beginning to set outside the hanger. He didn’t know what he would say, but he needed to find you.

He needed you.

-> my ko-fi

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

were lonan and harrison in a relationship? could you ~maybe~ share a romantic (as romantic as them two can get) excerpt between the two of them?????👀👀👀🥰

OH so u want the tea anon, I shall SERVE. This will probably make more sense if you have context on the series (which I briefly summarized HERE) but I’ll try my best to add context as we go. Here’s a comprehensive breakdown of the entire relationship! TW: this relationship is a little toxic, so tread carefully, mentions of trauma, blood, also lots of old, sorta cringe writing in this one!

1. The initial phases

The boys have had a very complex relationship from the start. At the time, I was very young, so I hadn’t sorted out sexualities for any of my characters, and over the years, they’ve all progressively come out to me, which has been a really wonderful experience.

Lonan is introduced 1/3 way through book two, when the series was still very YA dystopian. When he appears on the page, he’s been Harrison’s coworker in the ~~government, so they know each other well. They’re also nemeses. They dislike each other fiercely, but it’s kind of endearing. Clearly they have a history no one knows about (including myself), whether that’s as friends, enemies, both.

At the time of meeting, both boys are in relationships of their own, Lonan with his first serious girlfriend Holly who is Foster’s (Harrison’s best friend) sister, and Harrison with his first girlfriend, Margo, which always didn’t work (because! Harrison! is! gay!).

2. Getting warmer

In book three, the boys still hate each other, but with even more passionate vengeance. Harrison is angry at Lonan because Lonan keeps ruining his life (does this sound familiar) and Lonan is mad for no reason (does! this! sound! familiar!). This is the book where Fostered’s protagonist, Reeve, finds out Lonan is actually her half brother, and this very much changes the dynamic between Reeve and Lonan who go from trying to kill each other to ~~bonding, which by proxy, changes the dynamic between Lonan and Harrison because Harrison is essentially an older brother figure to Reeve. They’re kind of forced to make some form of amends in this book, but don’t become allies until 1/2-3/4 through.

Big tea is that they take a solo trip together and this is where I first hint at the SHIP (ft. Harrison’s very kind nickname for Lonan: Loner). The squad discussing romance:

“Really Foster? With Loner? Oh my god, out of all of the guys in this world, you paired me up with Loner?”

“Yeah, well why not? You both seem awfully close–”

Foster on Lonan and Harrison’s relationship:

“You guys are practically a married old couple. You even have nicknames for each other…”

3. Making progress

In book four, the boys have amended their destructive relationship, somewhat, and are kind of friends! Between books three and four, we can assume they’ve gotten closer as Harrison seems to know things about Lonan’s past that even his sister doesn't. I’d say they have a pretty productive friendship at this point. Lonan, however, starts a pretty intense romance with a woman named Glenne who reappears in Feeding Habits, and Harrison finds a dog! This is really becoming too similar to what’s happening currently oh! Here’s the first moment where I began squealing at this ship:

The both of them lie on their backs, staring straight up at the ceiling. Blood pools from Ris’ nose, slicing his cheek in two. Lonan’s eye is black, tears still seeping from them in slow, agonizing lines. They don’t look at each other. They don’t speak.

But when I look down, they’re clutching each other’s hands, so tightly, the blood between their fingers drips to the floor. 

THE SHIP THE SHIP THE SHIP

4. The ship?? is it sailing??

In book five, the boys seemingly have gotten even closer! The boys have a lot of one-on-one time before the start of the book because they create an entire underground empire together lol but Lonan’s mental health has taken a dip for the worst as past traumas from book four follow him into book five, and Harrison is a big support. Their emotional intimacy has deepened, even if they are only friends (Harrison is single and READY to mingle but Lonan’s still in a relationship with Glenne).

Here’s a line where Reeve states “so haha Harrison is the only person who can make my brother feel better”:

I’ve brought Harrison with me. Not because I don’t trust Lonan, and what he’s capable of, but because I think, out of every one of us, he’s the only one that can get through to him when he’s like this.

I mentioned Lonan’s mental health is not doing great, and at its worst point, Harrison goes out of his way to do the difficult task of tracking Lonan’s mother, Izzy, down so that he can have more support. He pretends to reach out under the guise that he’s actually Reeve:

“Don’t tell him,” Harrison breathes, running a hand through his hair. “The last thing I want him thinking is that I gave enough of a shit to actually, I don’t know, care about him.”

“But you do, don’t you?” Mom laughs when he only flushes deeply, taking a final sip on her tea, which must be nothing but lukewarm at this point. “Seriously, Harrison, right? You two are such teases with one another. You bicker like a married couple.”

5. Harrison says I love you: 

(it’s in a funny context but STILL)

“See, this—this is why I love you, Lonan.” Harrison says, swipes the tears from the corner of his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“What did you say?” Lonan asks, and not even biting his lip is enough to stop the goofy smile that peels across his face. “Did you just use the L word?”

6. This ship has come to a halt??

At the end of book five and the beginning of book six, Lonan and Harrison are not on speaking terms. This is because everything seems to go wrong for everyone at the same time. Harrison keeps secrets Lonan wishes he hadn’t, etc. Lonan and Glenne’s relationship falls apart and no one is happy.

Here’s Reeve saying Harrison’s heart is broken over how badly he feels for Lonan and that loss of friendship (SOFT):

I always wondered with Harrison and Lonan, if it were possible to have your heart broken over love that wasn’t romantic... Harrison’s heart broke over Lonan’s torment.

Reeve explains the state of their relationship:

Lonan and Harrison haven’t shared a word since their fight. But we’ve all had duties to tend to, so they’ve still been forced to interact, but even then, it’s radio silence. Sometimes there are glares and scowls involved, but other than that—nothing. It’s the longest they’ve gone without talking, as far as I know. Ris and Lonan might have had a similar conflict when they were co-workers, but from what I’ve witnessed of their relationship, this is more than just a warning sign.

The two make amends after a few weeks of not talking because mutual friend of the squad, Darren, calls Harrison to be like “haha so Lonan and Reeve are disasters please help” and so their reunion is kind of forced:

[Harrison] knows [Lonan and I are] standing there. The involuntary twitch of his ears, the tense of shoulders when the weight of both our stares pin them down. He knows. But he doesn’t look up. He keeps his attention fixed on the bubbling eggs in front of him, the old red spatula that now misses its spot in the cupboard.

Lonan immediately takes a step back, almost knocks me over in the process. It’s not shock, it’s not anger, it’s nothing. Just a passive jolt that makes him clench his jaw, and pull himself together. His eyes, as usual, are safeguarded, prepared to launch back any form of advance.

“You guys gonna stand there for the next hour, or what?” Harrison turns as he says that, and it’s a sting, yet relief when he looks at me first, and not Lonan. “Seriously, you can talk if you want to. It’s not gonna bother me. You look lovely, by the way.”

Silence, but around the skin I peel off my lip with my incisors, I say, “Thanks.”

“Actually,” Ris unzips his jacket, throws it over the back of one of the chairs. “I was talking to him.”

At this point, we feel a few things: a) Harrison is done with Lonan and his toxic patterns but still cares b) Lonan feels somewhat suffocated by Harrison’s attempts to help and the relationship, though a little more civil, is still volatile.

Their second reunion again, is inevitable, which Reeve explains as the squad set out to rescue Foster lol:

Lonan’s coming with us too. That wasn’t my call, or Harrison’s, even. It’s mutual, albeit wordless, the agreement we have that we’d rather find Foster without him. Though his motives steer somewhere closer to wanting to avoid pissy attitudes, we both know Lonan’s of no use if he’s injured. And from the looks of his eye that’s gotten worse, crusted in blood, like a leaked pipe gooed over, and the lacerations across his ribs, sewn shut by my unsteady hand, he isn’t ready for a mission like this. But who am I to control him. I’m not his mother. 

7. Back on track?

Reeve outlines a false backstory for Harrison’s iconic leather jacket in the 250-word sentence from a few years ago (she’s in Harrison’s room) and we hint at an actual, palpable romance:

...pretend not to have a flask of whiskey hidden behind his headboard, drink out of it when he falls in love and drink out of it when he falls back out of it, meet a boy who will drink half of it with him, who will hurt him, and hate him, who will be pasted in polaroids behind the map he’s tried to cover him up with, who he’ll kiss and take a picture with, sometimes both at the same time...

8. Or not

But when she brings the romance up shortly after, Harrison seems a lil *tense* about it:

“I saw those pictures. In your room. Behind the map? I saw you. You kissed him.”

Harrison’s jaw trembles. Clenched by the joint, skin concave in the bone. Takes another puff of the cigarette but almost bites off the tip. Curls of the cherry wood table catch under his fingernails. 

Harrison denies his feelings for Lonan, tho from the above, we’re not exactly sure why:

“You’re wrong.” And then louder, when I don’t say anything. “You’re wrong. I don’t like your brother.”

 “Then why are you hiding him from [Emily]?”

From this, we can assume the boys had somewhat of a productive, healthy romance threaded through the end of book 5, and in sprinklings in book 6, though it seems to not be in a very hot place currently. We see flashes of this in the “mini” stories I’ve written about the boys (Lampshade, Fishbowl, and Mandarin).

9. Jump into Moth Work

In book 6, Lonan has a bit of a resurgence back into a bad frame of mind when something bad happens to his sister and he feels he could’ve prevented it. This leads closer to the present of Moth Work as Harrison makes the decision to take him to his father’s cabin on the west coast, a place he hopes Lonan’s mother, Izzy, will be. She is there, but unlike the first time in book 5 where she helped him, Izzy’s a bit far gone with her own problems, namely a drug addiction. Lonan is unhappy at the cabin, tho this decision leads us into Moth Work as the squad, except for Lonan and Harrison, leave the cabin for the east coast.

In Moth Work, the relationship seems to be teeming into unhealthy as both parties (but mostly Lonan) need to work on themselves. The entire book centres on this conflict as a) Harrison tries to help Lonan who is still unwell, while struggling to realize this is just something he can’t do and b) Lonan struggles with accepting himself and also being a better, accountable human.

10. Oh god here comes Eliza

Lonan is so hyperfocused on himself and understanding his traumas that he struggles to prioritize others over himself, even when he doesn’t mean to. This becomes really emotionally exhausting for Harrison, so in ch. 5 of MW, they physically split. Lonan winds up in Las Vegas, looking for Eliza, his father’s ex-girlfriend, and OH BOY does a bizarre, unplanned (for all of us lmao) romance ensue. This relationship takes a nosedive, even in its best parts because its foundation is laid upon mistruths.

11. Harrison is back

In chapter 12 of MW, Harrison, who’s been entertaining a romance with someone else in the interim, appears at Eliza’s apartment to make amends with Lonan who he can’t seem to shake off (he’s a pesky moth haha). This shakes them both as a) Harrison isn’t sure about Eliza and her potential motivations, and b) Lonan, without Harrison, most definitely knows he’s done hurtful things to “better himself” (which is actually toxic).

12. Lonan says I love you

Lonan realizes how important Harrison is to him, and while they both inevitably know their relationship isn’t going to work out, which Harrison hints at, they share a wholesome moment at the “beautiful place” which I mention in MW writing updates:

“You’re not coming back with me,” Harrison says.

Lonan takes hold of the guardian angel, and gingerly, like it’s fragile enough to crumple, brings it to his mouth and kisses it. His lip glints, just as the angel does, in the moonlight. He lets the angel fall, swaying like a pendulum, and pulls his hand back slowly. Quietly, he says, “I think I’ve loved you a long time.”

13. Inevitable split

Harrison makes the decision to not stick around for Lonan because he’s realized it’s actually unproductive for them both to try to make a relationship work in the state it’s in. Structurally, Lonan needs to change, and he realizes that. Harrison leaves Las Vegas to live with his mother and that leads us to Feeding Habits.

14. Where are we in Feeding Habits?

Lonan has been in a strange relationship with Eliza for about six months, and Harrison’s been living with his mother in NYC after a few destructive instances that prompt her to host an intervention. While Lonan learns a lot about himself and grows a lot in this book, Harrison struggles because I really think he’s hurting over the end of their romance. This is truly a hurt bae moment.

TL;DR: Lonan needs to work on himself & be accountable for his actions before he gets into a relationship with anyone, and Harrison has to learn when to keep his emotional spoons for himself and that he can’t control how much he helps someone, even when he wants to. In my head, I know where the relationship ends (happily ever after), but this is just the very, very beginning, so there’s a lot that both sides need to work out before we get there.

Since you particularly asked for a romantical excerpt, the last chapter of MW is under the cut. It’s imperfect but I think it kind of sums up everyone’s feelings pretty nicely.

--Rachel

Chapter 15: Summon Away

He sees Lonan once the next morning. Sitting at the kitchen table over a cup of steeped tea—something floral and springy. Harrison watches him from the couch and can’t remember at what point he fell asleep last night. He’s not sure if he even did—if all he remembers is Eliza leaving, and then a blank wall.

Lonan is reading the newspaper. Every few minutes, he flips the page so new cheap colours and words blot against his fingertips. Harrison doesn’t move at first. It’s easier to watch him. How in the trickle of morning sun, his hair is a damp brown. How his eyes take to that glow, their translucent sparkle.

When Lonan has sipped four times from the mug, Harrison finally rises. No sign of Eliza sounds, and he’s grateful for it. This morning, he knows what he’s doing.

“What is that?” Harrison asks, pulling back a barstool with one hand, while pointing at the mug with another.

Lonan glances up, and the two mutually analyze each other. Lonan’s puckered skin, how morning makes his eyelashes papery, like wings. He wonders what Lonan sees in him—for a moment, it’s all he wants to know.

Lonan knuckles the mug over and Harrison picks it up like he’s holding an eyeball. The tea is hot, though Lonan hasn’t seemed to mind, and its flowery perfume burns Harrison’s throat. Lonan pulls the mug back to him when Harrison’s done, and takes another sip.            

“I still have no idea,” Harrison says, and to his shame, studies Lonan’s face for a bite wound.

“Earl grey.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“It expired four years ago.”

Harrison gasps, and Lonan almost smiles. And for a moment, Harrison almost forgets where he is. What happened at this counter just a few hours prior. With Lonan, it almost disappears. They could be back at the cabin, needling through the woods on that first day they tried to get rid of the darkroom. They could be in the water, shielding, yet simultaneously pushing each other under. They could be dancing to no music in a tiny bathroom or driving for carless miles in the tarnish of rain. Harrison traces Lonan’s face, each line that etches his eyes, nose, mouth, hair, and he doesn’t stop.

“You’re up early,” Lonan says finally. “Did I wake you up?”

Harrison shakes his head. He clutches the edge of the counter and tries not to tremble. Lonan is pretending to read the paper. He tries to fill in a miniature sudoku game in his head, follow along to headlines, but Harrison knows he isn’t. Through the skin of the paper, Harrison watches him watching him. Harrison doesn’t know what he dreamt of last night. If it was a good dream. If he’d want to dream it again. If he dreamt at all.

“I found this article,” Lonan says, and turns the paper over. It’s not very long, just a small corner of the entire page, but Harrison sees the title, all bolded, Summer’s Dreaded Pesk: 10 Facts About Moths. He leans in closer to read it.

The facts are almost all useless to him—that moths like sweet things, that there are thousands of species, that many don’t eat, but what sticks out to him is the last: how they’re attracted to light. Harrison skims the text with his fingernail, reads something about light traps, and tries not to think of how unfortunate it all is—to move toward light and then stop moving altogether.

“What does it mean?” Harrison’s voice catches.

Lonan doesn’t say anything. They just watch each other, and then the article, alternating until they can almost do both at once.

Harrison looks away first. He inhales, and tries to steady himself, but when he knows he’s going to break, reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the chain. He took it off last night and put it in there, and today, he unravels it carefully. He shoulders off his eyes, and in his palm, displays the angel. Its crystals beam in the sunlight that hits them both, and though it misses a jewel, has never looked more beautiful.

He almost says something but catches himself. He knows whatever he will say will keep him here, in this sun, on this barstool, reading the newspaper about moths, sitting next to Lonan, drinking his tea, never knowing what flavour it is. Harrison inhales, and on his exhale, unclasps the chain and drapes it around Lonan’s throat.

When the angel hits Lonan’s chest, a sound comes out of his mouth that Harrison thinks is almost animal. Harrison’s hand lingers on the back of Lonan’s neck when he clasps it, feeling the pulse of Lonan’s heartbeat, even from all the way up here.

Lonan clutches the angel when Harrison pulls back, and he doesn’t let go, even when Harrison rises.

“I’m going to grab a pack of cigarettes,” Harrison says, speaking to the ray of sun next to Lonan’s face. “Is there a gas station around here?”

“Just up the road.”

“Do you want anything?”

“I don’t think so.”

Harrison nods. Then he steps back, away from the kitchen, and slips his shoes on, one by one, more carefully than he’s ever done before. He knows Lonan looks at him. He knows what’ll be in his eyes if he looks up—and so he doesn’t. Harrison checks his jacket pocket for his car keys, and when they jangle, he turns toward the door.

“How long?”

Lonan’s voice makes him jump.

“Pardon?”

“How long will you be gone?”

Harrison frowns. “I’m just grabbing a pack of cigarettes.”

Lonan is the one to nod this time. He’s such a pretty sun baby, golden and capable.

“Before you go,” Lonan says, and closes the newspaper so it sits as a square on the counter. He doesn’t continue. All he does is gesture Harrison forward, his fingers weak as they curl twice—a beckoning.

Harrison takes a step forward. And then another. He doesn’t move closer than that. His head pounds; his heart bleeds too much. Lonan meets him in a place he won’t go, stepping out of his seat so they both stand in a patch of light that makes the dishware in the glass cabinet sparkle. Harrison says nothing when Lonan puts a hand on his cheek. Pushes a strand of his hair behind his ear, connects the dots of his freckles in a quick sweep because he’s done this before and knows exactly where they are. Harrison says nothing when Lonan kisses him. How his lips taste like the tea—a flavour he’s already forgotten, but that he knows. He doesn’t move. He just lets him touch, and touch, until he’s finished, until the lack of his mouth on Harrison’s finally feels like he needs it back immediately.

“A pack of gum, maybe,” Lonan says, and wrings his lip between his finger.

“A pack of gum.”

Harrison steps back. The sun is getting brighter now—it lights the kitchen like the lace on a doily, a warm glimmer like being underwater at dawn. He leaves the apartment without his angel, and keeps going, even when he wants to turn back.

 ***

Harrison buys the pack of cigarettes. And then the gum. And then he finds his mother.

She isn’t hard to locate. A quick question at the checkout counter, and he finds out the apartment complex near the public garden is only a fifteen-minute drive away.

It’s just as he pictures it. A white building, with a white lobby, the bricks white, the carpets white, the tables white. In little places, there are bits of gold—lining the keyboard the security guard types at, on the edges of every window so it’s only visible when the sun flashes.

In his hand, he holds a bouquet of roses from the convenience store. They’re cold and wet, and dampen his palms, but he clutches onto them in the elevator. When he gets off, he navigates through the hallway until he reaches her door—217.

He hesitates before knocking. Something in his heart is missing, and he knows exactly who, but he knocks anyway, two quick taps that he’s surprised she hears.

When his mother answers the door, she’s still wearing her pajamas. And they aren’t the pajamas he’d expect her to wear—no silks, laces, tank tops, fuzzy slippers. Instead, she’s in a too-big trucker t-shirt and a pair of wearing sweatpants. He doesn’t know why this comforts him. Or why this makes him cry when he hands her the roses.

He is swept into her apartment in a cloud of tears and he lets them fall as he collapses on his mother’s welcome mat. She smells like coffee, and clementines, and he clings to her when she holds him, when she pats his hair, his cheeks, his neck, the clamminess of her what he feeds on.

“It’s not going to last forever,” she says as she pats him again, on the floor with him now, crying with him now. And he repeats this: it’s not going to last forever, it’s not going to last forever, and he doesn’t know if this is supposed to be a good thing.

 ***

His mother has a balcony too. At it, they sit together, mostly silent, though Suzanna comments on the madeleines she unboxed for them to try ever so often, as if their flavour changes, though it never does. He can’t remember what he explained—it feels like so long ago that he arrived, even though it’s been less than an hour. He doesn’t know what he knows, if Lonan knows his trip to the gas station is going to be prolonged. His words were a woven mess when he spoke to his mother, of their messy love, of the unknown tea, of the moths, of so much more with that kiss.

Now, his mother massages his hand absently while paging through a book. He doesn’t know what book. It could say encyclopedia or academia, or amnesia—he can’t read it. She peeks at him too often, but he revels in it, the worry there, a care he doesn’t know how to handle, as if it’s fragile and wrapped in moth wings. Ahead, the city crumbles, and he can’t stop the pictures he sees in the clouds.

His mother reads. Harrison watches. A father and son down below, who take turns walking their golden retriever. A food stand vendor that hands a stack of checked tissues to a mother wrangling four small children. A couple who take photos in front of a cherub fountain, how he can almost hear the mechanical click of their camera from fifty feet up. Something stirs inside of him, at the thought of Lonan back in that golden apartment, and he only realizes what it is much later, when his mother is heating up something spiced and leftover in the microwave. The feeling like being buried alive and wanting to do it again just so someone can pull you out. A loneliness he sucks on until his mouth sores.

[kuratoki]

Changes 13

Do you agree that things change in time? Well four years abroad would tell wouldn’t it?

Changes Masterlist

Pairing: Reader x Jeno ft. NCT`

Words: 2494

Warning: Swearing

“Hey Y/N, do you know a guy by the name of Park Jisung by chance?” Chan asked out of the blue as the four of you were at one of Soonyoungs favorite restaurants. 

You were glad that Soonyoung and Chan seemed to take a liking to Jeno who they accepted as one of their own when they got to know him and his past. It seemed that Soonyoung had taken a big liking to him because in the end, it was Soonyoung sitting next to Jeno and not you. It was fine though because in reality, you were a bit closer to Chan since you were closer in age and he had helped you during your training camp when you still weren’t fully recovered.

You raised your eyebrows at your best friends name while Jeno’s ears perked in curiosity. Why would anyone be asking about Jisung?

“He’s one of my best friends.” you answered after you swallowed, “We met at summer camp after my first year abroad and he’s the only other partner I’ve had that wasn’t Renjun.” 

“Ah, the one Xander told the group chat about that dropped you on your face. The bruise on your cheek looked nasssty dude.” Soonyoung said, cringing.

“What? He dropped you?” Chan asked, eyes wide, “Why didn’t I know this?” 

“Xander only told the leadership group chat. Apparently this Jisung kid was flipping her and she got dropped on her face during rehearsal for their summer camp dance competition.” Soonyoung explained, “This is why I still ship RenY/N as my ultimate partner OTP.”

“Renjun rarely lifts me though.” you stated, “And if he does, he can’t hold it for long. This is why I can’t compete with him on a partner level.” 

“I think you two would do fine.” Soonyoung commented pointing his chopsticks for emphasis, “You guys managed to choreo ‘Rewrite the Stars’ in eight hours which was a feat in itself but the fact that it was almost perfect is something else. It’s the main reason why I wanted to ask you to dinner tonight and it’s just convenient that Jeno’s with you and that you actually know Jisung. Makes my job a lot easier.” 

“Your job easier?” you and Jeno asked at the same time and Soonyoung nodded, taking out two envelopes and handing it to each of you.

“You guys don’t have to answer yet obviously, but I need an answer by next semester so we can start the preparations, especially for you Jeno.” Soonyoung said as you both opened the envelopes, you already had a suspicion as to what it was but it was the contents inside that made tears well up in your eyes when you saw who the letter of recommendation was from.

For Jeno it was different, he had two letters. One was a letter of recommendation for Chan and an official offer letter from the Selects Foreign Division signed by the owner of the Selects Academy herself along with Soonyoung and Jongins signature as witnesses. He was too absorbed in reading the letters that he wasn’t even paying attention to how you were reacting to yours. 

After you finished reading the letter, you felt as if your heart was going to burst, “When did he even write this?” you asked seeing that it was dated only days before your departure. 

“He gave it to me when I went to visit him a few weeks ago...Jongin has something else as well but we wanted to be the ones who gave this to you…”Chan muttered from beside you, “He really did believe in you, you know.” 

Feeling the tears spill, you stood up catching Jeno off guard and he looked up from his letters to see you running out of the restaurant. Before he could react, Chan had gotten up to chase after you and from the restaurant window, he and Soonyoung saw Chan wrap you in an embrace as you broke down. Not the silent crying Jeno had seen from you in the last few days, but actually full blown sobbing. 

His heart ached seeing you in that state. He could see you shaking in Chans arms as you sobbed and Chan was running a comforting hand through your hair, whispering things in your ear in an attempt of comfort.  He turned to Soonyoung when he heard him sigh and he too was watching you and Chan outside the restaurant with a pained look on his face.

“Xander wrote the letter didn’t he.” Jeno said, asking Soonyoung for confirmation and the latter nodded.

“He had it for a long time now…” Soonyoung said and turned to Jeno slightly surprised, “Did she tell you about him?” 

Jeno nodded, “She said he was the glue that held everyone together. Sounds like he was a true leader.” 

“He was...He knew Y/N and Renjun before any of us met them but he always talked about them everyday after classes. Their talent, how they always seemed to butt heads but when the music started it was like they were floating on water. He knew after their first year that they’d be a perfect addition to the Selects. We all knew from his texts that he may have liked Y/N as more than a friend and we thought they’d end up together before we even met her…” Soonyoung started remembering all the times Xander would tell the group chat that he found the perfect duo to join the Senior ranks, “But after summer passed and we all met up, the way he talked about her was like how an older brother would talk about a sibling. We knew that he took Yuwen under his wing at the request of Yukhei who he considered a brother at the time but after Y/N was casted, things changed drastically.” 

“Cause she got into the accident and didn’t tell him that it was Yukhei who caused it” Jeno commented and Soonyoung nodded, “Yukhei goes to SMAA, we’re in the same dance club...they had a blow up last night after they found out about Xander. That’s why we’re here, she wanted to get away and I wanted to be there for her.” 

“And I now understand why she held out all those years.” Soonyoung said putting his hand on Jenos, giving him one of his bright smiles, “You really do care about her don’t you.” 

“Of course…” Jeno stated, “She’s the reason I worked so hard for Nationals last year...I actually thought I wouldn’t see her again.” 

“Then it was fate.” Soonyoung said, “Listen, about the offer. Don’t feel rushed okay?”

“How is this possible if I didn’t even do a Semester abroad?” Jeno asked the first question on his mind.

“You’d be in Chan’s boat since you’ve won a National title, plus his Letter of Recommendation was an added buffer.” Soonyoung explained, “From pre-lims to Nationals, he followed you through the whole thing and though it’s uncommon, everyone on the Leadership Team thinks you’d be the best suited for the role.” 

“And what about Y/N?” Jeno asked, “She just got one letter right?” 

“Jongin has her offer letter.” Soonyoung assured, “She was on our radar for a while now and all she has to do is finish this term. I also assume that you know that she’s being casted again right?” 

Jeno nodded his head, thinking about how you’d probably have to leave once more. Was he ready to let you go so soon after only getting you back though? “She’s going to have to leave again won’t she…” 

“Probably...I’m not sure what Jongins plan is...Junior performance season is his section...Chan and I jump in once training camp starts next semester when we start holding auditions.” Soonyoungs brows furrowed, “Can I actually ask you a question?” 

“Of course…” Jeno said and looked outside to see Chan holding your face in his hands as he wiped away your tears and the two of you seemed to be having a conversation.

“Don’t tell Y/N this yet but Xander wrote a letter of recommendation for someone else as well…I was just curious if you knew why.” Soonyoung started.

“Who?” Jeno asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Park Jisung.” Soonyoung said and Jeno froze, “In the letter, it said that he saw great potential in him after one meeting. All he has to do is pass training camp which means a semester abroad. If he passes training camp, then he’ll receive an official offer.” 

‘One meeting…’ Jeno thought to himself. When would Jisung have met…his eyes widened, “They must have met when he was taking care of Y/N after she collapsed. We were in the middle of competition season and he booked it after they announced that I would represent the school in Nationals.” he muttered, “We all thought he was upset and no one could find him. Taeyong just told us he had a family emergency but Jisung never talked about it. No one knew where he was but one of our friends who were friends with both of them but she kept tight lipped.”

“That explains a lot. Xander did say he visited her with Mia after he found out what happened..” Soonyoung commented, getting the full picture now, “He was always someone who was easy to open up to. They probably got to know each other in a short period of time since he was with her till they left for summer camp.” he gave Jeno a bright smile, “Okay, then I’ll let Jongin know to accept his application.” 

“Wait what?” Jeno asked, astonished, “He sent in an application?” 

“Mhm…” Soonyoung said nodding, “I can’t say anymore but thanks for the information.” he then looked up to see you and Chan reentering the restaurant, your eyes slightly puffy but it was clear you were trying to hide it with your fake smile. 

Jeno saw through it right away and got up to meet you halfway, gently holding you by the arms, he asked you in a concerned tone, “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” you said giving him the best smile you could muster, “The letter made me emotional and I didn’t ugly cry. Are you guys ready to go?” 

“Yea, just let me get the bill.” Jeno said and Soonyoung was quick to get up.

“I said I was treating!” he said quickly following him to the counter making you and Chan chuckle.

“So you’re okay with him taking a leadership role?” Chan asked, looking at Jeno and Soonyoung talking. In reality, the two of you were ready to come inside quite some time ago but the two seemed to be getting along so you took the opportunity to discuss some other things.

“If he wants to then yea of course.” you said, “I don’t think he expected it though judging by the way he looked.” 

“I don’t think so either but his skills are too good to miss out on. He’d have to attend the last two weeks of training camp but that's about it. He’d receive credits through the training program anyways so it’s not like he’s missing school.” Chan explained, “And after that, you guys just take a semester off every year to lead training camp and compete at the scheduled events. You know how we do it.” 

“I love how we do it. It just shows the strength of the team.” you said knowing of the complex training/practice program the Selects had, “I guess it helps that few of us are based here and can actually meet up.” 

“That’s what I look forward to the most.” Chan said with a grin, wrapping an arm around your shoulder looking at Jeno who was still fighting Soonyoung to pay, “you got yourself a good guy. I’m happy for you.” 

“Thanks Chan.” you said leaning into his shoulder as you saw Soonyoung successfully tap his card on the card reader after grabbing it from the cashier.

“You guys should come for breakfast tomorrow then, my place isn’t that far from here and then we can pick up whoever you need to from the airport.” you heard Jeno suggest to Soonyoung as they walked back to you. 

“Really? You’d do that?” Soonyoung asked with a big smile, “That sounds great.” 

“Renjuns coming down anyways and they’re all meeting at my place so yea, it’ll all work out.” Jeno said with a thumbs up.

After everything was settled, the four of your parted ways with the promise of meeting early the next morning. When you got back to the penthouse, Jeno put down the shopping bags on the coffee table before he wrapped his arms around you in an embrace and put his face in your hair as he felt your arms wrap around his waist and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Are you feeling better after you ugly cried?” he asked, muffled and felt you nod.

“He was just so honest about everything in the letter...he told me why he didn’t want me to say goodbye...he said that I was already in good hands and he wasn’t worried about my development.” you said in a whisper, “He said he was proud of who I became in a short period of time...it was just too much.” 

“He’s not wrong you know.” Jeno commented, pulling away slightly to look at you, wiping the stray tear, “Now no more crying okay? We have to prepare to be bombarded tomorrow morning. Knowing Jaemin, he’s going to have that awful coffee concoction on his way so he’ll be wired to drive early.” 

“Renjun and I are probably going to have to meet with Jongin and Soonyoung privately, are you going to survive being with everyone else for a while? I’m sure Chan will join you too if he isn’t busy.” you asked looking up at him as he leaned down to brush his nose against yours.

“If I must.” he let out a sigh as you giggled, there was something about Jenos presence that made you feel uplifted and you knew that what Xander said in the letter about him was right but you weren’t going to tell him that, “Will you be okay though?” 

“Of course.” you reassured, ‘As long as I have you, I’ll always be okay’ you thought to yourself as you leaned up and he met you halfway, brushing his lips against yours. You still couldn’t believe that this was happening but you were glad that you were open with each other, that you didn’t feel the awkwardness but instead butterflies when his lips were on yours. 

You weren’t sure where things were going with him yet, but everything from what Xander said in the letter, to receiving Chan and Soonyoungs seal of approval, it was all leading in the right path. You just hoped that you would be able to pull through with what had yet to come. 

[itsomgitsgreenblogging]

Syllabus Day: A Critical Role Fanfic

For day 5 of @essek-week I just couldn’t resist a little Professor!AU, just the aesthetics of it all are just totally outstanding. Plus I am such a sucker for the “students ship it” trope, I just had to find a way to put it in.  

Read the collection on AO3

Enjoy!

Caleb’s first day as an official professor at Rosohna University had marked down in his memory as hectic, according to his personal journal. He had just managed to get into the country by the skin of his teeth the day before the term was set to start, his lecture notes had been stained by tea by a very apologetic undergrad, and to top it all off there had been technical difficulties with the microphone as he had given the lecture. He also wasn’t looking forward to unpacking both this office and his new apartment as soon as he got home. 

But it wasn’t to say that all of the things that had happened that day were bad. All of the kids he had taught had loved Frumpkin (who was very lovable if you asked Caleb), and were all excited to put Find Familiar in their brand new spellbooks. Caleb found that Find Familiar always made for a great icebreaker lesson, and good first week as opposed to spending a whole lecture on the syllabus. Thankfully he had been told by a few of the undergrads that they were looking forward to the course and to summoning their own familiars next class. Caleb has also had actual thoughtful questions on the material, so though he felt beaten Caleb was not defeated. Sometimes teaching was just a measure in flexibility which was something he was working on. 

When he got back to his office, he was content to move in his important things and then go home to a new apartment to decompress. He had decided that unpacking his apartment could wait until he stopped feeling like his brain was going to steam right out of his ears. It was also a lot of work to unwrap each individually packaged porcelain cat sculpture and place them just right on the bookshelf. He was just about finished with that and ready to call it quits when a knock startled him out of his focus. 

"You are Dr. Widogast then?"

The voice was calm, authoritative. Caleb looked up to see the most handsome man he had ever laid eyes on in his whole life.  He was drow, as were many of the professors who guest lectured at Zadash University from Roshanna College. His hair was white, his skin an attractive dark-lilac, his eyes a glinting silver. He was lithe and shorter than Caleb, and wearing a meticulously pressed slate grey wool-and-cashmere trench coat with shiny buttons that had to cost thousands of dollars. And, by the gods, was that collar velvet? He was really wearing an ascot too, and shiny shoes and black leather gloves. Caleb had never felt so grungy in his whole life, in his cat fur covered thrift shop sweater, crinkled khakis and bargain-bin boots. Caleb had the insane urge to cringe and apologize for breathing in the same air as him. 

"I am," Caleb said, holding out his hand in spite of himself. "I'm Caleb Widogast, and you are…?"

"Dr. Essek Theylss, I run the fall semester Advanced Dunamantic Theory seminar and the Introduction to Graviturgy," he introduced, taking his hand lightly. Caleb couldn't help but gape. Essek Theylss, he knew the name Essek Theylss. Anyone in academia with even the slightest interest in dunamancy knew who Essek Theylss was, and yet somehow this man was talking to him.  

"Yes of course," Caleb said, his brain and excitement running ahead of his decorum. "I read your essay on influencing gravity with magic. You created a levitation spell that is rooted in dunamancy that can last for hours! It was an incredible piece of work." 

"I see my reputation has preceded me," Dr. Theylss said, mouth curling up in a half-smile. "And here I was thinking I was alone in admiration."

"What?" Caleb asked dumbly, as Essek ran a gloved finger over the desk, he inspected his finger before continuing to gaze upon his surroundings with a thoughtful look. For a moment it looked like Essek was considering the environment before he returned to look at Caleb with an intense expression. 

"Your work on spell modification is truly something. I was extremely pleased to hear that you were joining the faculty especially considering your work with Bigby's Hand. What's the name of the spell you developed?" Essek asked, turning sharply and so quickly that Caleb barely processed that he did. 

"Oh...Cat's Ire." 

"Yes, it's very clever, I'm sure a good many students will benefit from your instruction,” Essek said, and though it was a commonplace nicety somehow it felt genuine in a way that touched Caleb.  

"Well, thank you Dr. Theylss--"

"Just Essek will do," he corrected, straightening his already immaculate collar. 

"Then you must call me Caleb," Caleb managed beyond his tongue, which felt nearly swollen in his dry mouth. 

"Then I shall,” Essek said. He smiled, and he could see just the barest flash of elongated canines. “Caleb it is then. I cannot tell you how truly excited I am to be teaching with you this year. I look forward to it, truly, from the bottom of my heart. I’m sure I will learn a good many things from you.”

“Me as well,” Caleb croaked. 

With another airy smile, Dr. Essek Theylss left Caleb speechless in his own office. Behind him the air was scented with the slightest bit of peppermint, like he had dabbed on some expensive cologne before he walked in the room. Caleb sagged against the wall, attempting to take deep breaths and calm the pounding of his heart. He hadn’t felt so affected by anyone since...well, in a very long time. Longer than he would probably like to admit. Attractive people like that lived their own strange and storied lives that people like Caleb simply couldn’t understand. Though...he wanted to. Mentally he was already calculating how long it would be until it stopped being weird to visit in one of Dr. Theyl--Essek’s lectures. He was sure that Essek certainly had a lot to teach him. 

“Meow?” Frumpkin asked from the top of the bookshelf, blinking down at him with wide yellow eyes. His ears were alert, like he had just caught Caleb with his hand in a treat jar. Greedy thing, Caleb broadcasted across their mutual bond. Caleb got the distinct feeling of playtime, bored, now sent back to him. 

“Ja, I know. What a day,” Caleb agreed before watching his familiar jump from the bookshelf onto his desk, scattering papers and knocking over his books and sending a paperweight tumbling to the flood. “Ach! Frumpkin! It’s not play time now! I’ll play with you when we get home!” 

A new year, a new adventure, and more things to learn. Caleb just wasn’t sure he was ready for it. 

___________________

“What do you think of Dr. Widogast, Luc?”

“What do you mean, what do I think? I mean, like, he’s a good teacher. He’s my mom’s friend so I knew him before but like, when we all didn’t do well on the quiz he threw it out and retaught us..that was pretty nice.” 

“No, no, no! I mean about him and Dr. Theylss?” 

“Oh! That. Caliana was talking to me about the Dunamancy Major kids’ theories on that whole thing. I think it’s just bullshit.” 

“Go fuck yourself!” 

“No, go fuck yourself, Kiri. And hey! Stop messing with Nugget and actually throw the ball please. Twiggy can you tell Trixie not to try to break nuts on Nugget’s head.” 

“Trixie don’t do that, be nice to Nugget! But seriously, Luc, you don’t think anything is going on between them?” 

“I didn’t say that, I just think that Uncle Caleb is too awkward to ever make the first move. Plus, Dr. Theylss is so intimidating. I heard he glared at a kid so hard once that they passed out in the lecture hall.” 

“Well I think it’s happening, and you wanna know why I think it’s happening?”

“Why?”  

“I saw them together the other day, outside of campus!” 

“No you did not, you are just bullshitting me right now.” 

“I am not! I totally did. I was having a girls night out with Reani and Keg and Caliana and Kiri and we went to the restaurant with the awesome fried calamari-you know the place right?” 

“I know the place. Also, hey, why did you guys all go out and not invite me? I’m insulted.” 

“That was the night you went on that date with the cute half-orc. How did that work out by the way?”

“Oh, got you. No luck unfortunately, all they wanted to do was talk about was how the War of 836 PD should be called the War of Xhorhassian Aggression and how good it was for the economy. Barf. I hate Merchant Majors. But anyways back to what you were saying…?”  

“They were in a booth talking, they had wine, and they were sitting real close together. Right, Kiri?” 

“Yes, I am very sweet.” 

“Dr. Widogast and Dr. Theylss were totally playing footsies under the table, it was definitely happening. They are totally in love and are dating, I am absolutely sure of it!” 

“Well, who would’ve thunk it. Uncle Caleb’s got game, maybe he could teach me a thing or two.” 

“You’ll shoot your eye out!” 

“Seriously, Kiri, wanna fight?”

[spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia]

“Forgiveness”: A Ducktales Fanfic with Lena

 Dedicated to lenasmagic, a blog on Tumblr.

 “Gary, are you SURE you haven’t forgotten anything?”, Pricilla asked with that tone that implied that she was 100 % sure that Gary had most DEFINITELY forgotten something.

 Gary rolled his eyes as he approached the pod door of his golden spacecraft that shined and glowed in the bright noon day sun.

 “Pricilla, for the last time, I HAVEN’T forgotten anything!”, he complained, fishing in his golden pockets, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

 “Really?”, she asked in disbelief, hands on her hips. She was taller than him, so it always gave him the impression that she was disappointed in him when she did that.

 He was right.

 “I’m telling you, I haven’t forgotten…”, Gary started, when suddenly it snapped and he realized that…

 “…The keys.”, he sighed, resigned to his fate.

 Pricilla closed her eyes, triumphant. “Yes, the keys. I told you so.”

 “Hey, uh, your keys are here.”, a different voice suddenly rose up from the crowd of moonpeople walking around looking for their earthly… Or, well, moonly possessions.

 You’d think that spotting a voice in a crowd of blue and purple aliens clad in golden armor would be difficult.

 But hard as she tried, Lena Saberwing (formerly Lena De Spell, niece of one of the most evil people to ever live, but who’s thinking about that) couldn’t NOT stand out.

 The teen duck with pink dyed hair that heavily contrasted with her mood, a black and grey striped shirt over a mint collared shirt that gave her a very different feel to the more simply dressed inhabitants of the planet, and most noticeably, purple eyeshadow that gave her a haunting or haunted look, depending on your perspective, stood in front of the moon people, a golden key chain in the palm of her hand.

 If Gary and Pricilla knew the years of pain, suffering, self hatred and resentment buried deep in those black black pupils, they may have taken pity on the young girl, who held aloft their way back home.

 But Gary and Pricilla didn’t, and space traffic WAS busy this time of year.

 “Give me that!”, Gary snatched the keys, momentarily scraping Lena’s feathered palm, making her recoil for a second.

 “What you deserve…”, a voice whispered, as it always did when she got hurt.

 She had learned to mostly tune it out.

 …Mostly.

 “Hey!”, she protested, annoyed at the shabby treatment. “How about a thank you? I just helped you get off this crummy planet.”

 Pricilla waved Lena’s protests off, as if they were some annoying fly or something, and not a living, breathing person… Er, Duck, in front of her.

 “Whatever, young one. Let’s get out of here, Gary.”

 Gary unlocked the pod and mumbled under his breath as Pricilla entered their craft.

 “Gary do this, Gary do that…”, he muttered, and he lumbered inside, the door closing and the shuttle flying off into the deep unknown of space.

 Gone.

 Forever.

 “Good riddance.”, Lena thought, and she frowned at the departing space crafts, all of which had moments ago been trying to kill her and all her friends.

 Her family.

 Her only family.

 And they were going off scot free!

 She kicked a pebble with her left green and white sneaker, annoyed at the injustice of it all!

 What if someone she cared for had been hurt by these monsters?

 Someone like Scrooge McDuck, or Mrs. Beakley, whom had given her another chance after all the damage she had caused?

 Or someone closer to her, like her new friends Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck?

 Or even worse: Her new adopted sister and lovable pain in the butt Violet Saberwing?

 And Violet’s dads…

 Correction: Her dads.

 …Her dads. That felt… Weird.

 And worst of all: What if Webby had been hurt?

 Her best friend had been at the thick of the fighting, literally part of Earth’s last defense!

 “But…”, Lena admitted, as she walked up to a hill overseeing the moon men spaceships. “I can’t exactly criticize others for nearly hurting my friends and family.”

 Lena shivered for a moment as she got another intense flashback: A regular occurrence, but never a pleasant one.

 “After all… I nearly did too.”

 Oh no. She was sinking again.

 And she was hearing a weird sound again.

 One negative thought leads to another. Soon she’d be thinking about lying to Webby about their friendship, which would be followed by trying to steal Scrooge’s number one dime, followed by losing her body to her “loving” Aunt Magica, followed by being trapped for a YEAR as a shadow, followed by almost becoming Magica…

 Lena suddenly realized that the weird sound she was hearing was her own hyperventilating, and, not wanting anyone to see, she clasped her beak with her right wind and clenched her left wing’s fist, hoping that she could force it out.

 It didn’t really work, but thankfully, a distraction arose.

 “So… Moon people.”

 Lena had heard many distinct sounds in her life, but perhaps the driest (and right now, most thankfully distracting) sound she had ever heard was the voice of Violet Saberwing, her aforementioned adopted sister/giant pain.

 Lena smiled in relief as she approached the hummingbird with a mint green shirt and average expression (though Lena had lived with her enough time to know that there was a small smile that was only reserved for her), and the two sisters stood face to face… Sort of.

 Lena was very tall.

 “Should that be something I should be worried about? Most kids my age are around her height.”, Lena thought, and she cringed. “Am I seriously getting angsty over my height as well?”

 Violet nodded at the disappearing space craft with an educated sniff. “Must say, not only did I think that no one lived on the moon, but I didn’t think they’d be such…”

 “Jerks?”, Lena offered, still frustrated with their behavior and conduct.

 “I was going to say inhospitable invaders, but sure, jerks in laymans terms works too.”, Violet dryly joked (at least, Lena thought it was a joke. You could never tell with Violet).

 The two stood in silence for a moment as the ships continued to lazily leave. There were MANY, MANY ships, so the evacuation would take some time.

 Some people, like Lena and Violet, opted to stand and watch the ships go by. There were even those who sat on the grass and ate sandwiches, waving goodbye to the would be conquerors.

 Others, though, were preparing to leave back to their homes and their sort of but not really normal lives.

 Off the corner of her left eye, Lena spotted the McDuck family entering a number of sleek black limosuines.

 She could see Scrooge, Webby still clinging to his chest, stepping in to the vehicle, or at least, trying to, since Dewey tried to backflip in.

 She couldn’t hear anything, but she didn’t need to to see Scrooge humorously chide the energetic boy, or Webby giggle that lovable laugh of hers.

 Huey was excitedly jotting down something in his Junior Woodchuck guide book (for sure all the “thrilling” moon facts he had learned in the last few hours), Della and Donald were laughing together for the first time in a decade, and Launchpad was trying to reattach the car door he had just broken.

 Lena could see multiple faces in that crowd, faces she sort of recognized from the last few days, like that Darkwing what’s his name, and Gizmoduck, or faces that she had known for a long time, like Mrs. Beakly and Duckworth.

 There were even faces she was only vaguely aware of, like Qucakfast and Gyro Gearloose.

 But even those she didn’t recognize made her feel almost…

 At home.

 Like they were all one big family.

 But Lena was honestly unsure if she could ever belong to that family.

 What with…

 “No!”, She demanded, furious with her mind. “No, I DON’T want to think about this!”

 “I’m better now…”, she said to herself, but less assuredly.

 For a few minutes, Lena and Violet sat silently as the ships departed, saying nothing, Lena lost in her thoughts, Violet trying her best not to think about the fact that her adopted sister was clearly suffering again.

 Finally, Violet stood up and clicked her tongue.

 “Welp, I’ve had all the fun one can possibly have from watching aliens enter spaceships.”

 “Zero?”, Lena asked with half a smirk, looking up at her new little sister.

 Violet again unleashed that small smile that only Lena got. “Around that amount.”

 She looked back at her dads, who were waving at her next to the mini.

 “Dad and Dad want us to come home and have a “Post Moonvasion Goulash”.”

 “What the heck is that?”, Lena asked, humor laced in her words.

 “Whatever it is, it’s going into our beaks. But they’re good cooks, so…”, Violet shrugged, and she started walking out.

 Suddenly, she looked back at Lena, whose back was hunched and her shoulders were slumped as she stared at the lonely wet grass.

 “…You… You coming?”

 Hesitation could be heard, a rarity from Violet.

 Not much phased the girl; she was a bit of an emotionless girl (which worried her fathers endlessly, much to her chargin).

 However, if there was one thing that upset the bookworm, it was the sight of her new older sister depressed yet again.

 Violet, however, was a smart kid; she knew that she wouldn’t be able to talk to Lena yet.

 And if anyone could, they’d have to be particularly stubborn.

 Violet knew that right now, that wasn’t her.

 But she still asked an empty question, one she knew the answer to, hoping against hope that Lena would just come instead of spend the next few hours…

 “You go ahead. I’ll… I’ll catch up.”, Lena breathed out breathlessly, her voice as distant as the moon that had brought upon her mood.

 Violet nodded, knowing that this was to be the answer. “All right.”

 She turned her back to Lena, half a sad look back.

 “I’ll… I’ll keep a seat warm for you if you want to play Smash Bros.”

 Lena nodded wordlessly.

 “Cool.”, Violet remarked, and sighing, she began to walk up to her dads, trying to calculate how she would explain to her dads that Lena needed to feel bad again.

 And for now…

 Lena was alone.

 Like always…

 Lena was alone.

 As she would always be…

 Lena. Was.

 Alone.

 A light breeze blew gently, tickling her beak, making her wrinkle it.

 Her eyes closed as she tried to breath deeply like Mrs. Beakly had suggested once.

 Breath deeply, count to ten, and try to ignore the all encompassing guilt of existing.

 Easier said then done.

 But Lena never did do things easily, now did she?

 Entering a lotus position (sort of. She needed to work on that, it wasn’t easy), Lena tried to focus only on good things.

 “The past is behind me. The past is… Behind me.”, she said, shivering as she tried to ignore.

 She tried SO HARD.

 And she was SO TIRED.

 “Think… About what you have.”, she said to herself, and she breathed deeply.

 The wind blew through her hair, and she thought of Violet.

 “I have a sister… And I have two dads. That’s cool. Some people have no dads. I’ve got two. Beat that.”

 She took another deep breath, her words unsure.

 “I have… Mrs. Beakly and Scrooge and Donald and Della and Launchpad looking after me. And I have Huey, Dewey and Louie.”

 She took another deep breath, trying to ignore the terrifying feeling of inevitable depression.

 “I have… Webby…”

 She imagined herself grabbing hold of Webby’s hand, the friendship bracelets glowing…

 Only for a strange yet familiar hand to grip her arm hard, removing the friendship bracelet in the process.

 “Ow!”, Lena cried, and suddenly she saw herself back at the beach, contacting Aunt Magica.

 “Aunt Magica…”, she had whispered, almost triumphantly. “I’m in.”

 “This… Is your fault…”, a voice whispered.

 Lena’s eyes widened and she turned to the voice, the waves crashing oddly muted, but her heartbeat pounding like a rocket launch in her ear. “Who said that? I’m… It’s not my…”

 Suddenly she got smacked by an invisible hand, which flung her somewhere else.

 Somewhere dark and cold.

 “IT IS YOUR FAULT!”, the voice screeched, echoing and disappearing suddenly.

 Turning around, Lena saw herself underground, lying to Mrs. Beakly over her allegiance.

 “You lied…”

 Lena looked around, searching for the voice that wasn’t there, yet also was.

 “No I didn’t! I mean, I did, it’s just…”

 “SILENCE!”, she got hit again, her beak throbbing now, forced tears dropping, lying on the ground, completely helpless.

 “No… I…”

 Suddenly she heard the tracks and the whistle.

 The train was going to hit Beakly, just like last time.

 “Beakly, look out!”, Lena screamed, but when she jumped at Beakly, she got hit by the train.

 Waking up, she found herself in the shark she had created.

 She had created.

 Her fault.

 Her fault

 Her fau…

 “Shut up!”, she shouted, eyes closed shut, but it wasn’t enough. The fingers kept pointing, pointing, pointing, changing, transforming, until they became…

 “We’re friends, you beautiful idiot! I don’t care what you did!”

 Lena wanted to believe that.

 She HAD to believe that, it had to be true!

 “Look at what you did for a body…”, the voice whispered again, leaving feedback in her ears, but Lena didn’t have time for guilt!

 She had to save Webby and herself!

 Sliding down like she had, she chanted “With the hand of my best friend…”

 Lena glowed blue like she had then, and she could see Webby falling.

 An excited smile popped on her face, redemption was right there for the taking!

 “I bring about…”

 But as she reached towards Webby, the invisible hand choked her, lifting her up from the ground.

 Lena grasped and throttled, barely calling out Webby’s name as the duckling fell down and down and down and down…

 “WEBBY!”, she screamed, tears falling, her vocal chords nearly damaged, as she got dropped down to the ground…

 “TAKE. THE. DIME!”

 And here she was, in the other bin, Scrooge’s fabled Number One Dime almost at her grasp, Aunt Magica ordering, demanding her to seal the world’s fate…

 Her hand slowly and surely reached…

 “NO!”, Lena screamed, taking her hand away, but the invisible hand pulled her back towards it.

 A tug of war occurred, Lena desperately trying to go away from the coin, the invisible hand dragging her back.

 “Hands off of me, you… Hand!”, Lena shouted, and with a swift tug, she got out of the hands grasp and rolled away just in time to…

 It glinted in her palm, just like last time.

 “…Oh no…”, Lena whispered, failing to believe that she had done it.

 “But why is it so hard to believe, Lena?”, the voice echoed in her mind as she went to her knees and held her head in fear, shame and panic.

 “After all…”

 Webby’s body fell from the money shark down to the ground next to her.

 “WEBBY! Are you all…”

 But Lena couldn’t finish the question. As she turned her friend around, the haunting image of a Webby doll stared right back at her.

 Lena backed away in fright, barely reaching the wall behind her, gasping and hyperventilating.

 “STOP IT! LET MY FRIEND GO!”, Lena screamed at the invisible hand.

 “Stop what? What you’ve been doing?”

 Another smack and Lena found herself in Magica’s hands, the witch’s face turning into her own, maliciously grinning at her.

 “You’ve been using her, pulling her strings…”

 Lena tried to escape, but the invisible hands held her tighter as Magica forcibly entered her soul and…

 All was black.

 All was lost.

 Her eyes, her mind, her heart…

 Poisoned to the core.

 And here she was in the mansion.

 Nearly destroying Scrooge’s life, the once great man laying distraught on the ground.

 “Mr. McDuck? You don’t have to…”, Lena tried again to help, but the shadows came tumbling down around her, a vortex opening between her feet.

 “It’s your fault they almost DIED!”

 A kick to the chest nearly stopped her heart and her eyes rolled up to her head and…

 Silence.

 Shadows.

 Nothing.

 Seconds turn to minutes turn to hours turn to days turn to weeks turn to months…

 “YOU HURT BEAKLEY!”

 A punch like a train collided with her beak.

 She tasted blood in her mouth and recoiled.

 “YOU HURT SCROOGE!”

 Her knees tripped and she smashed down to the ground, coughing out blood, her arms wobbling as she tried to stand up.

 “YOU HURT THE McDUCK CLAN! YOUR CLOSEST THING TO A FAMILY!”

 Multiple punches, kicks, pokes in the eye, scratches and slaps collided, hurt everywhere and nowhere, instantaneous and everlasting, inducing hot tears of shame that melted her face, retching out her soul.

 The ethereal brightly lit soul, looking like Webby, reached out her hand, and Lean, desperate for redemption, reached out her hand in return.

 The friendship bracelets returned, glowing brightly, Lena’s smile returning with joyful tears, hope seemingly back…

 When Webby reached in and removed her heart.

 “YOU HURT ME!”, Webby screeched, and pushed her off a cliff, Lena knowing she deserved it…

 “No… That’s not true… It’s… Not my…”

 Wake up.

 Go to sleep.

 Wake down.

 Go to rest.

 Wake on.

 Go to the light.

 Wake off…

 DOWN TO THE DARK.

 Lena crashed down, eyes braced for impact, only to be caught by…

 “Violet?”, Lena asked, Violet right there, as ever, holding her back.

 Lena burst into tears and cheered, nearly squishing Violet.

 She smiled gratefully as her tears made Violet’s shirt wet, the hummingbird still silent.

 “Violet! Oh my god, thank goodness you’re here! I almost…”

 “ALMOST WHAT? HURT VIOLET?”, The voice returned, and Lena got held back as Violet was moved away, her eyes blank and lifeless, next to Webby, her Dads, Huey, Dewey, Lewie, Scrooge, Mrs. Beakley, Donald, Della, Launchpad…

 “NO! I’D NEVER!”, Lena screamed back, when suddenly she saw a giant hand reach to hurt her family.

 “STOP!”, She ordered, and she shot a blinding magic blast, purple light fizzing everywhere, sparks entering her eyes.

 But at least the blast…

 “…No…”, she mouthed, as she saw…

 Empty eyes…

 Limp hands…

 Cold, unmoving bodies…

 They were…

 Dead…

 “Because of you…”, the invisible voice whispered, this time almost gently.

 Lena sobbed and sobbed as she got to her knees and held her face in her hands, crying tears, crying black magic, crying blood…

 “Your fault… You killed them… You always did… It was you… From the very beginning…”

 Lena suddenly felt herself changing, yet somehow staying the same…

 She felt different, yet familiar…

 A mirror was propped up between her and a wall, and Lena looked in to see…

 “YOU were the villain.”

 Magica’s face stared back at her, cackling.

 Lena screamed, and anger and rage consuming her, she shouted “THAT’S. NOT. ME!”

 She punched the mirror, but instead of the glass shattering, Magica’s face shattered, turning into…

 “Me.”, she breathed out.

 “You’re right, Lena…”,the voice said, taking shape as…

 “You’re not Magica…”

 Lena turned around to see…

 Herself.

 “You’re you.”

 Lena stared back at the other Lena and vice versa.

 The first looked like Lena always did, but the second was… different.

 Her tears were black, her eyes were soulless, and her body was scarred beyond repair…

 For some reason, Lena felt compelled to touch the other Lena’s hand…

 So she stepped towards her…

 And…

 The two put their palms together…

 “You’re you…”

 Lena, smiling bravely despite it all, tried to wipe the black tears off of the other Lena…

 WHOOSH!

 It took a moment for Lena to realize that the weird wet thing she felt on her shirt was blood…

 Spewing and gushing down from a gaping hole in her heart…

 A diamond knife twisting harder and harder into her chest…

 The other Lena crying and laughing, smiling and frowning, joyful and distraught…

 “You’re you…”, the other Lena said…

 “And that’s even worse than Magica.”

 Lena tried to speak but no words formed.

 The other Lena suddenly pushed Lena off the cliff, her family suddenly appearing, waving goodbye as she soared down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down no hope no hope all is lost all is lost it’s over it’s over I’m lost I’m lost life lost life lost love torn love gone love lost love found love taken pain granted wishes of pain slit and desist and stop and never come back the guilt is you and you are the guilt and your actions never lose their impact you try to swim but you sink because the depths of your shame know no limit and the folly of redemption is but a tick an illusion a n empty promise like your meaningless existence daring you to be anything more than what you are but you know you can’t because to your great and everlasting fault you are no one but…

 “Me”

 But just before Lena can finally sink to the bottom of the sea and gain everything by losing it all…

 “Hey, Lena.”

 Violently waking up, as if nothing had happened, Lena gasps and turns around suddenly, the voice now not belonging to herself but to…

 Louie Duck.

“…Sup?”

 Lena takes a moment to visualize her surroundings.

 The Moon men ships are soaring in the sky, the grass is blowing softly near her feet and Louis is standing next to her, hands in his pockets.

 The nightmare is over. She really is back.

 But was that a good thing?

 Right now, though, she didn’t have time to process the raw trauma she had just experience, since Louie was next to her, and she wanted to get rid of him before he caught on.

 Taking a deep breath and trying her best to hide the terror and resignation from her voice, Lena said “…Hey Louie.”

 Louie kept his hands in his hoodie pockets, a blank expression on his face.

 It was hard to tell what he was really feeling, and usually that blank expression was accurate, but one got the feeling that this time it was an act.

 “So… You watching the moon people leave?”

 Lena nodded, hoping that would be good enough of an answer.

 “All alone on this hill?”

 Apparently, it wasn’t good enough of an answer.

 “I’ve gotta get rid of him!”, Lena thought, calculating options quickly. “Maybe a barb will shut him up.”

 “What’s the matter?”, she asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Aren’t you busy taking over McDuck Enterprises and sending it down the toilet?”

 Louie took it in stride, but Lena could tell that he was hiding his true feelings about that day. “Hey, that was last week. I’m a changed duck!”

 “Wow. New Louie is only one week old and already as disappointing as old Louie.”

 Lena knew she was being a jerk, but right now that was easier than sharing… All that.

 Besides, she didn’t really have a relationship with Louie.

 Sure, he had helped her with her nightmares, and she’d forever be in his debt for that, but that was about it.

 “Oh, man.”, Lena thought, the hole in her chest hurting. “I sound like such an asshole.”

 Louie however, did not take the insult that hard.

 “Mind if I sit down?”

 Lena did mind.

 But it seemed like Louie would not take no for an answer.

 Besides, she could just avoid it, she’d done it before!

 So Lena patted the ground next to her, not daring to look at Louie out of fear that he’d see through her mask.

 “Sit down, the grass is fine.”

 So he sat down next to her, albeit with his back to her.

 And for a while, the two ducklings did nothing but sit and breath, Lena’s heart hurting and Louie’s mind working overtime.

 There were still a few moon people embarking their crafts, but they would all be gone soon, and Lena would have no excuse to stay.

 She tried to come up with some kind of way to kick Louie out, but her mind came up with blanks, instead continuing to quietly and slowly hurl more and more guilt onto her.

 Suddenly, Louie broke the silence. “…Why are you really sitting here?”

 Lena didn’t want to answer.

 So she said nothing.

 Louie sighed. “Silent treatment?”

 Lena still said nothing.

 Louie sniffed for a moment, blinking at the clouds. “…Look, if you’re not going to tell me what’s on your mind, then I’ll tell you why you should tell me.”

 Lena barely stifled a dark chuckle. “I should tell you? No offense, Louie, but I find it hard to believe that you of all people hold the key to making me feel less shitty.”

 Louie objected to this, of course. “Come on! You’re not even willing to give me a chance to prove myself?”

 “Well, let’s see: You broke the timestream, nearly losing your family, you scammed Glomgold out of his entire company, NOT that he didn’t deserve it, and, oh, there’s the little thing of taking over Scrooge’s company and almost running it into the ground in a day.” Lena scoffed and counted on her fingers.

 Louie, half jokingly and half seriously defended himself. “Ok, ok, so mistakes were made…”

 “Title of your autobiography.”, Lena quipped.

 “I was thinking something more like “Louie Duck: Lit and Fit with Moolah in the Mint”, but sure, “Mistakes Were Made” works too.”

 And again, silence fell.

 For a moment, Lena thought she had avoided it for good, but then Louis spoke again, this time with a little more emotion.

 “…I really could help you. If you’d let me.”

 Lena sighed, knowing that the youngest duck triplet’s intentions were good, but misguided. “Look, Louie, it’s really cool of you to try, but…”

 She left that sentence hanging, but Louie didn’t need the rest of it to interpret its meaning.

 That didn’t stop him from insisting. “I’m telling you, I can at least try.”

 Lena, tired of waiting, turned to him, anger in her eyes. Louie could also detect damp spots in said eyes, but he decided that he’d rather not die like that. “Louie, I’m serious: Stop trying.”

 Louie knew that messing with Lena was a bad idea: She could get pretty mad, and he knew that he was no match physically for her.

 But it didn’t stop him from staring right back, eyes narrowed with determination.

 “Why? I’m tired of taking the easy route.”

 Lena laughed. “Since when?”

 “Since last week!”, Louie shouted back, slight emotion crawling into his voice.

 “You can’t. Change. In a week!”, Lena emphasized, talking more to herself than to Louie.

 “How are you so sure? How are you so sure that you can’t?”, Louie turned the tables.

 Lena groaned, frustrated with his stubbornness. “Louie, you can’t help me!”

 “Why?”, he shouted back, not expecting the following event.

 Lena, finally out of patience, shoved him to the ground, angry tears flying off her eyes, a red face and a shaking body above him now.

 “I. CAN’T. BE. HELPED!”

 Realizing what she did, she turned her back to him, clenching her fists and looking down at the ground with shame.

 She wished it could swallow her whole, leaving no trace.

 But to her great misfortune…

 She was still alive.

 Louie slowly got up, dusting himself off, not averting his gaze from her hunched back and slumped shoulders.

 “…No. You can’t be helped.”

 Lena knew it was true, but it didn’t stop the shiver that emcommpassed her entire body.

 But Louie wasn’t finished.

 “You can’t be helped if you never let yourself be helped.”

 “Sometimes, I really just want to deck that kid.”, Lena thought, and she turned around, pissed.

 “Louie, for god’s sake, shut up…”

 “No. Not until you hear me out.”

 The two were in an unofficial stand still, a sort of unspoken staring contest, both refusing to break.

 Lena desperately wanted to kick him out…

 But at the same time, she knew that he wouldn’t leave without having his say.

 Sighing, she turned her back again, and, muttering, she murmured “Fine. What do you want to say?”

 Louie cleared his throat, knowing that he was now in the homestretch. He had to nail this or he’d lose his chance to help her.

 And hard as it was for even him to believe, he wanted to help her.

 Twiddling his thumbs, his usual confidence absent,, he started to make his point.

 “As I’m sure you know, I can be kind of… Selfish and manipulative.”

 Lena shook her head, failing to believe this. “Are we seriously talking about you?”

 Louie quickly intervened. “Wait, wait, hear me out!”

 Lena sighed and motioned for him to go on.

 Louie kicked some grass and continued. “What I was trying to say is, as you know, I can be a real jerk.”

 “Real asshole.”, Lena added.

 “Yeah, that too.”

 “And a dick.”, Lena added, now with a dry smile.

 “Ok, that’s a bit much.”, Louie protested.

 “And a prick, moron and cock.”

 Louie dryly looked back at her. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

“Oh, very.”, Lena admitted, enjoying the moment of relief.

 Louie sighed. “Oh boy. Anyway, what I was trying to say, is that yes, I am all those things. And for a long time, I didn’t really think of the consequences of my actions.”

 He started to get a little more serious, the memories of his past mistakes still a touchy matter.

 Lena knew this, and she started to feel a little bad for barbing him so much. He too had regrets.

 “I regret that. I regret tricking my family, I regret the timephoon, and I definitely regret taking over the company.”

 Emotion broke into his voice, and Lena swore that she could hear a tear or two, but she refused to turn, still rejecting help.

 That, and she didn’t want to embarrass him.

 “I… I fucked up real bad.”

 Lena snickered. “Gee, what a dirty mouth. You kiss your mother with that mouth, Lellwyn?”

 “Oh, you bet! That dirty mouth didn’t even have that privilege until about 3 weeks ago! I’ll kiss her with my disgusting mouth as much as I want!”, Louie retorted jokingly, but Lena could tell that Louie really had missed his mom.

 She wondered what that felt like.

 Louie resumed his talk. “Anyhow… I… I didn’t realize I was wrong. I was sure that there was only one way in life for me: To scam everyone in my way, make it rich quick and live the easy life. But I see now that…”

 He sighed. It was never easy to say this, but he had to for Lena’s sake.

 “I see now that I was wrong.”

 Lena sighed too. “Louie… You don’t have to be hard on yourself.”

 Louie disagreed. “No. You’re wrong. I should be. I made big mistakes. And I need to fix them. And it will take time.”

 Louie then smiled hopefully, a little at himself and a little at her. “But… Here’s the thing.”

 He closed his eyes, feeling the wind in his hair. “The reason I’ve been able to live with myself… The reason I’m not just lying in my room hating myself for being suck a dick… Is because I took the first step towards redemption. Something you haven’t done.”

 Lena raised an eyebrow, turning towards him. “…What are you talking about? What did I not do?”

 Louie smiled softly, sympathy present in his eyes. “You didn’t forgive yourself.”

 Lena gulped. In a way, she knew he was right, but at the same time…

 “Louie… I can’t.”

 “Why not?”, he asked, pressing her.

 “I… I just can’t!”, Lena shot back, turning again, clutching herself, feeling cold.

 “I… I’ve done too much. I’ve… I’ve fallen too far down.”

 “No. You. Haven’t.”

 Lena growled. “Louie, you don’t know what I’ve gone through.”

 “Of course not. But answer me this: Did you choose to steal the number one dime?”

 Lena turned to him, hands on her hips. “Uh, duh! Of course I did!”

 “No, Magica did. You only did it because she told you to.”

 “That doesn’t change what I did!”, Lena protested, attacking herself.

 “Yes it does! You were being led astray by an abusive family figure! It’s a perfect excuse, ‘cause it’s not an excuse! It’s fucking abuse!”

 Lena shook her head, not wanting to fool herself into believing. “Louie, even if that’s true…”

 “Did you choose to make the money shark? Or the shadow war? Did you choose to let your body be taken over?”, Louie asked, disgust laced in his voice.

 “Well…”, Lena had to admit, he was making a good point.

 But she still felt so guilty.

 “Well, I guess I…”

 “No, no guessing. Yes or no.”

 “But…”

 “Yes or no.”

 “Wait, I…”

 “Yes. Or. No.”

 “Listen, ok, it’s not that simple…”

 Lena was spiraling, and Louie refused to budge.

 “Yes or no, Lena! It IS simple!”

 “No, it’s not!”

 “Answer me!”

 Lena shook and her head throbbed and her heart pounded and…

 “Did you choose to be made?”

 That was it. That was the million dollar question.

 But the prize was most definitely not cash.

 “NO, OK? I DIDN’T CHOOSE IT! I DIDN’T CHOOSE TO LIVE!”

 Lena collapsed to her knees, weeping, not caring anymore who saw.

 “I…”, she started weakly, her breath cold, her body aching.

 “I didn’t choose to live. I didn’t ask for all of this.”

 Louie stepped up to her, a look of pure sympathy painted on him. “…Exactly.”

 Louie knelt down and embraced her, which surprised her. They were not huggers.

 “Don’t dismember me.”, Louie asked, and Lena couldn’t help but smile at that.

 “No promises…”, she said, through the tears.

 Louie separated from the hug and gazed into her eyes.

 “Lena… I get why you feel guilty. You almost hurt all the people you love, you helped an evil witch, and you nearly became her.”

 He smiled encouragingly. “But you’re not. You were forced to do all this. You were being manipulated. Hurt. Controlled.”

 Lena started listening, almost willing to accept it all.

 “None of that was your fault. As you said, you didn’t ask for any of this: Magica did.”

 Lena shook her head. “So what? That doesn’t absolve me for life.”

 “Of course not. But…”

 Louie nodded slowly. “You have something you didn’t have before. Something Magica never gave you.”

 Lena stuttered out a question. “…W-What?”

 “…A choice.”

 The wind blew and the birds chirped and Lena took a deep breath.

 “A choice?”, she asked.

 Louie nodded, sitting down next to her. “I could choose to keep scamming. But I want to work hard from now on. I want to earn my riches. I want to do it the right way.”

 He shrugged. “And if I don’t choose to do that, if I choose to revert to type, well… I’m choosing to be what I hate. I’m choosing to be the version I’m ashamed of.”

 Lena nodded.

 “I’m not saying you’re bad. ‘Cause you’re not. But if you decide that you are bad, well… You’ll never have a chance to be good.”

 Louie smiled. “We’re all willing to forgive you, Lena. You’re family. But… Are you willing to forgive yourself?”

 Lena hated to admit it… But he was right.

 “Wow. You actually said something that didn’t piss me off.”

 Louie laughed. “Yeah, I know, shocking.”

 Lena suddenly hugged him.

“Woah.”, he exclaimed, surprised by this.

 Lena now had happy tears. “Thanks for talking to me.”

 She wiped the tears away as she separated herself from him. “…I know that… That I didn’t choose to do these things.”

 She looked down in shame. “But I can’t help and feel like I did.”

 Louie nodded. “The only way out is to forgive yourself. You’re not even giving yourself a chance to get better.”

 Lena fearfully asked the question that terrified her: “…What if I still go bad?”

 Louie sighed. “You won’t. You’re better than you think you are. You helped us all eve under Magica’s control. You’re a great person. Now it’s time to let yourself be that person.”

 Lena looked back at the clouds.

 Forgiving herself couldn’t be easy..

 She still felt all the things she had done… No. All the things she had been forced to do.

 Well… If that’s the case…

 Then she hasn’t had a chance to actually BE bad.

 Which mean, in a sense…

 “I have a blank slate.”, she uttered quietly.

 And if that was true…

 Then…

 Then there WAS hope.

 If she had a blank slate, then she had just as much of a chance of ending up good as she did ending up bad.

 For the first time in her life…

 Lena had a choice.

 Lena could try again.

 One more chance.

 Tears flowed down as Lena realized she could be who she wants to be.

 She COULD.

 And, despite spending so many years in the company of magic, that was the most magical thing she had ever seen.

 “There really is still hope…”

 Lena slowly stood up, following the last alien ship as it began to leave.

 Closing her eyes, she projected all the mistakes she had made.

 All the terrible things that she was forced to do.

 Magica wasn’t her…

 She was an illness.

 To fight an illness, one must accept that it isn’t who they are.

 But also…

 To choose to fight it.

 Lena could see that she could be good.

 But she could never be good, be happy…

 If she didn’t forgive herself.

 A hand softly landed over her heart.

 “…I didn’t choose to be like that. And I choose not to be.”

 She closed her eyes tight. “From now on… I choose to be me. The real me.”

 She smiled.

 “I give myself… A chance.”

 And that’s what she did, as her guilt flew away to the moon, far far away.

 And as one last tear flowed down, Lena felt it.

 Hope.

 It would take time… Time to heal. To discover herself. To shut the voice down.

 But…

 One day…

 One day…

 She’d be good.

 And she’d be happy.

 And she’d be… Herself.

 And that was truly magical.