#(but obviously his first mistake was picking the desert as a place to Hide)

[jendoe]

tagged by @nightbloodraelle to make some ocs in this picrew! thank you MWAH...

🎀 elissavet cousland | 🎲 adelaide hawke 🏹 yawen liu | 🔍 harun liu 🥀 cressida trevelyan | ⚗ hildegard van markham 🐲 varian de rossi | 🗡 rosaline trevelyan

tagging @phillipsgraves, @risingsh0t, @indorilnerevarine, @chuckhansen, @queennymeria, @denerims, @girlbosselrond, @minaharkers, @gwynbleidd, @aelyosos, @calenhads, @telumendill, @shadowglens, @cptcassian, @corvosattano, @jackiesarch, @marivenah, @sstewyhosseini, @leviiackrman, @unholymilf, @florbelles, @shellibisshe, @loriane-elmuerto, and if you see this, YOU!!! no pressure ofc mwah mwah mwah

[salemorbit]

Do-Over

[Pro Hero!Katsuki Bakugou x Pro Hero!Reader]

warnings: angst y'all i'm feeling angsty; ends with fluff hehe; it's a LONG one boys!!

~~~~~~~

in which you and bakugou hit a speed bump in your relationship

~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~

You dropped your keys on the table next to your door, slamming it shut with a sigh. You grimaced as you turned awkwardly to strip off your jacket, your shoulder twinging with pain from a minor injury during your recent scuffle.

The apartment was dark, not a soul around to greet you or wait up for you at such an hour. And that was fine, that was how you lived. But deep down inside, at this moment, you felt a pang in your chest that took the shape of a specific blond haired fireball.

Slipping your phone out of your back pocket, you unlocked it and let your thumb glide instinctively to the contact that you talked to the most. You pressed the call button and held the phone to your ear, slipping off your shoes gratefully.

It went to voicemail. Not even his mailbox was set up, just the automated number played in your ear. You let the robotic voice run through its mantra before leaving a message at the tone.

"Hey, it's me. I just got home. I...just wanted to make sure you were okay." You fiddled with your belt. "Call me when you get this."

You clicked end and slid your phone on the counter, leaving it be while you undressed from your work clothes. You cradled your whining shoulder as you slid off your shirt and tossed it aside, mentally making a note to do laundry later.

The past few days at your hero agency had been hard. There were so many hoodlums and villains clogging up your to-do list that you barely had time to call your boyfriend and make sure he was doing all right. It was radio silence from him nearly all week.

But you two had been busy. For some reason, this week was the one time that every baddie wanted to cause chaos. Or at least it felt like it. You slumped down on your dingy couch and stared at the ceiling. Hero work was exhausting, and you didn't even know if it paid off in the long run.

And just a few hours ago you were dealing with a messy explosion of villainy in the middle of your district. It was hard to keep the destruction in check, and you had gotten minorly injured in the process. Your sore shoulder was a scar to boot.

Katsuki had been there, in fact a few of his co-workers had been, too. But he didn't pay you any special attention. You didn't know if that bothered you or not.

Yes, you were both on the job and vowed not to let your relationship get in the way of your hero work as much as possible. On the other hand, you hadn't seen or spoken to Katsuki in a whole week, and the first time you had and he didn't even nod a greeting. What was his issue? It wasn't like you had gotten into an argument or anything.

Shuddering out of thought, you heard your phone buzz once on the counter. You got up and checked it, half expecting it to just be a junk mail message. You were surprised to see that it was a message from Katsuki himself.

I'm home. Goodnight.

You frowned. That was it? You called and left a message, he hadn't spoken to you all week, and all he sent was a three word text?

You didn't know what overcame you, but the frustration inside bubbled up and spilled over in an instant. You turned and activated your quirk out of pure adrenaline, chucking your phone across the room and sending it straight through the apartment wall and soaring into the street below.

That calmed you down quickly. You ran over to your window and threw up the sash, looking down and around for your shattered piece of a phone. But it was gone. You sighed heavily and shut the window, storming into your bedroom and falling into your sheets with a huff.

Now you needed a new phone and, quite possibly, a new boyfriend.

•••

The next day you were off of work, so you took a pain reliever for your shoulder and headed to the nearest phone store to get a new phone. After awkwardly explaining the situation to the clerk, you received a new model and decided to pay a visit to the one man who had gotten you so riled up in the first place.

Katsuki would've been lying if he said he wasn't relieved to see you on the other side of his door that afternoon. He'd had a tiring week, and honestly all he wanted to do was spend time with you and recharge for the most part before doing it all over again.

What he wasn't prepared for, however, was the frown on your face and the angry tapping of your foot as you stood in his doorway.

"You seem unbothered," you said shortly. Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows and let himself get shoved aside as you bustled into his apartment.

"Who pissed in your cornflakes?" Katsuki muttered as he shut the door. You grit your teeth and crossed your arms, obviously unhappy, though Katsuki couldn't figure out why.

"Go look in the mirror and take a guess," you glowered. "What's your issue? Why haven't you returned any of my messages this week?"

"I've been busy, you know that," Katsuki crossed his arms as well, not allowing you to have an intimidation factor in this conversation. "This week was hell."

"It was busy for me, too, but I still made the time."

"What are you going on about, dunceface?"

"Your inability to communicate!" You threw your hands in the air. "I've been trying to check in on you this week, but you haven't responded, if at all. And you didn't call me back last night! Just a text? One? I wanted to make sure you were okay after that fight, and you didn't even humor me."

"So? I'm fine."

"I didn't know that," you stressed. Katsuki let out a breath, still not getting it, and this made you even more angry.

"I don't know where this sudden clinginess is coming from-"

"It's not being clingy!" You erupted. "Are you so dense that you haven't realized how checked-out you've been recently? I've given you multiple opportunities to pick up the slack. I've excused your behaviours, given you space, and respected your silence this entire time. You haven't given me anything to work with. It's called being concerned and trying to keep our relationship going, which you don't seem the least bit interested in doing."

"And what if I'm not?" Katsuki growled, just plain upset you were accusing him of things he wasn't doing, at least in his mind. "What would you do if I didn't want to keep this schtick up, huh?"

"Then I'd be wasting my time standing here," you snapped. "And I'd have wasted the last two years on you."

Katsuki felt something in his chest cry, shattering and splitting through the floor below his feet. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes, trying his best not to set his living room on fire.

You were there. You were right there, somewhere you hadn't been for the last week. And yeah, he'll admit that maybe he's been a bit distant lately, and the sudden influx in hero-work definitely wasn't helping the situation either. But he was trying to deal with things he hadn't quite felt before, one of those things being his feelings for you.

As of recent, something had shifted in his gut. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, and it wasn't like he was going to consult Kirishima or Kaminari about this. God knows they'd just make fun of him for worrying about your relationship.

Did he feel ashamed? Was it embarrassing him that he felt like this for someone? Katsuki Bakugou didn't get embarrassed, so what was this?

"I think we're done here," you muttered, looking down to hide the tears welling up in your eyes. You slid around Katsuki to reach the door, but you were stopped by Katsuki grabbing your arm gently.

You jerked your arm from his grasp, turning to look at him with your chin held high, keeping your trembling lip from showing itself. Katsuki had something in his eyes that had never been there before, and you hated it. You hated that you couldn't read him anymore.

"I don't know you like I thought I did, Bakugou." He flinched at that one. "This was obviously a mistake. I'll see you around."

And you were out the door and out of his range, leaving Katsuki Bakugou to stand in his living room at a loss for words. Something he hadn't been ever since he first met you.

•••

You took the breakup terribly, to say the least.

Yes, you were technically the one who broke it off, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt to do it. You didn't want to shut things down like that, but Katsuki had left you no choice. He wasn't getting it, and it felt like he was going to continue to not get it. You just couldn't spend your energy like that anymore.

Mina and Momo were there for you from the second you broke down at a bus stop and called them to pick you up. They were there in a split second, not pressuring you for information until you wanted to tell them.

They were more disappointed in Katsuki than mad. They didn't like how he hadn't been communicating things with you about how he felt or why he had been distant. You broke and told them how it had been going on like this for almost a month now, and this last week was just the tipping point. They backed your decision and got you anything you needed for the next few days, until you were able to be on your own and process the emotions you felt.

Katsuki hadn't tried to call you at all. No texts, emails, voicemails. Your phone was a dry desert, except for the concerned text Midoriya sent you after you assumed Mina and Momo had told him about the debacle. He offered to talk to Katsuki about it, but you declined. It was best to just let it be, let it sink in that Katsuki had messed up royally.

Meanwhile, the man in question was quiet for the next few days. His coworkers noticed his lack of remarks, his friends noticed his distant appearances. All Katuski had been doing since you walked out that door was think. He was thinking long and hard about what he wanted, where you fit into his life, and the way he had acted as of recent. This was quite possibly the most Katsuki had ever thought about anything; typically he was so sure on the get-go that he needn't time to stop and reflect.

But this was different. You were different.

It wasn't until the next Saturday after your breakup that Katsuki found himself on the other side of your apartment door, hand poised to knock. He decided he didn't want to do something like this over the phone; it was just too impersonal. So he mustered up the courage to face you again, and prayed you wouldn't throw him out of your four-story high window in the process.

He knocked, waited. No answer. Getting slightly annoyed, he knocked again, louder. Still no answer.

Katuski was now incredibly annoyed, and bent down to take the key from under your doormat and just unlock the damn thing himself. As he lifted the mat, he saw a slip of paper taped to the floor where the key should've been:

Don't try to break in. Calling the police is not below me.

Katsuki huffed, standing up and going to knock on the door again when he was interrupted by the rustling of paper bags. He turned over his shoulder and saw you standing on the opposite end of the hallway, holding some grocery bags in your arms and staring right at the blond standing on your doormat.

There was a tense few moments of silence before you broke it, audibly frustrated.

"Can you get out of the way so I can put these inside?" You frowned. Katsuki blinked, then moved aside to let you fumble your key in the lock dumbly.

"I can-"

"Shut up," was all you said before opening the door and letting it bang against the inside wall. Katuski stood on the threshold, unsure of if he should just walk in or not, before inviting himself in as soon as he figured you wouldn't give him the time of day. He watched from your counter as you passive aggressively slammed things on the counter or into their place in your kitchen.

"Care telling me why you're here?" You asked, flat-toned and not looking at Katsuki in the slightest.

"I wanted to talk."

"About?"

He rolled his eyes. "Us, dimwit."

You stopped and let your head hang, propping yourself on the counter with your hands spread flat. You still didn't look up at him, which was greatly pissing him off.

"We already did. Last week," you said.

"That wasn't a conversation," Katsuki ground out. "That was you coming to me and exploding out of nowhere. I didn't even have the chance to-"

"It wasn't out of nowhere," you interjected.

"Stop interrupting me, damn it, and just let me talk!" Katsuki spat. You looked up at him with a withered look, making his fire simmer down immediately.

"Fine," you said, voice wavering slightly. Katsuki cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" He smiled slightly, bittersweet. You didn't react, so he went on.

"You're an idiot because you've got terrible tunnel vision," he said, glancing at the living room that looked like you had been sleeping in. You had a perfectly tangible bed in the next room, but there were just too many memories in there for you to spend the night in again.

"I can see fine," you grumbled.

"No, you can't," Katsuki looked back at you. "You haven't been able to see how hard I've been trying these last few weeks to figure things out. Figure us out."

"Well how the hell am I supposed to know that if you don't tell me anything?" You asked, trying to keep your voice from rising. The last thing you needed was a fight. You were just too tired.

"That's...something I need to work on," Katsuki muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "And I will admit that. Don't make fun of me for it."

"I never said I would."

"Great, because I gotta whole lotta other things to admit to." His eyes narrowed. "I don't wanna hear shit from you for the next five minutes, got it?"

You sighed, miming zipping your mouth shut as you went back to putting away your groceries. You might as well let him talk, since you knew his stubbornness wouldn't let him leave your kitchen so soon without him getting in his two cents.

"I've been thinking long and hard lately," he began. "On my own. Nothin' from anyone else except my own thoughts. So this is one hundred percent me.

"I screwed up. I did. And it took me a minute to realize it because I was so much in my head about things. I was so focused on trying not to mess us up that I went and did that shit anyway. And all you've been is supportive and caring, and quite honestly I don't know how to handle that since I haven't really been with anyone like that."

He was being honest, you knew from his tone of voice. It was a tone you had heard only a few times before this moment: when he told you he loved you. And you believed it.

Katsuki took in a breath: "So I'm here. And I'm sorry. At first I was mad at you for marchin' into my house the other day and spewing things I knew nothing about, but then I realized that you were spewing those things because you knew nothing about me and where I was at. And that was frustrating for you because you got that whole communication thing you like to do, or whatever."

"Or whatever," you mumbled to yourself, smiling slightly. He picked up on that, his spirits lifting a bit as well.

"I've just been thinking about things and where you are and who I want you to be to me as we live our lives. And I screwed it up by not talking to you about that either. It's a conversation we both should have. So," he sighed, "I'm sorry. And I'll continue to be sorry because you don't deserve to be left in the dark. I love you, and I want to be better."

He finished his little speech and the two of you were quiet. You had paused putting things away about halfway through, really listening to him and what he had to say. He deserved that from you in the least.

You looked up at him and saw that he had already been staring at you, an intent look in his eyes. It was your turn now. He wanted a response to his being vulnerable. You knew it wasn't easy for him to open up like that, despite the last two years of helping him get comfortable, so you didn't torture him with the suspense.

"We'll see," you said. Katsuki did a double take, eyebrows furrowing.

"We'll see?" He repeated. You nodded rounding your counter to stand in front of him.

"If we want to keep doing this for however many more years we keep doing this," the corner of your mouth lifted in a smirk, "then we'll just have to see."

"Great," Katsuki rolled his eyes and sent a seething glare out the window. "I totally lay myself on the train tracks and you just run me over like that. Thanks."

"But," you continued, trying to catch his eye, "I appreciate you coming to me. And I appreciate the apology. However, I won't know if I can accept it until I know you'll actually go through with it."

"Understandable," Katsuki sighed, comprehending this. "I deserve that one."

"Are you ready for a do-over?" You asked, catching his hands in yours. He couldn't help but notice a weight in his chest lift at the presence of your touch after weeks of barely anything. Katsuki still had some work to do, but it was worth it if he could keep you around.

"Always," he kissed you on the forehead and you smiled giddily.

"Awesome because we now have two weekends of cuddle-time to make up for, and my bedroom hasn't been used in a week," you led him to your door.

"Oh no," Katsuki complained sarcastically, "however will we make up for such lost time?"

"Shut up, you big doofus," you grinned. "You know you love me."

"That I do."

~~~~~~~

a teensy tiny bit of OOC bakugou near the end there but like. he'd be a sucker for that and totally willing if it was just the two of you around HAHA

anyways this was cute and i....am forever still in love w bakugou :))))

[thatonedildonamedfrancois]

“This Town” Damianette Songfic

Waking up to kiss you and nobody’s there

Damian reached over to her side of the bed, only to feel nothing but the cold mattress. A pain struck him straight to his chest. He had forgotten once again.

Right.

He missed her. He just couldn’t help himself, even if it was his fault.

He was the one who let her go, he shouldn’t be reaching out for her, but he found himself doing things he shouldn’t be doing quite often ever since she left.

The smell of your perfume still stuck in the air

He groggily got up, having spent another night out drinking. The smell of her favourite perfume hit him, making him wince.

Oh God.

How he wished he could go back to when he’d smell it from the crook of her neck when he hugged her. He still remembered when she first bought it. He was with her, hell, he even picked it out.

It's hard

He got up from his bed with great difficulty. Ever since he let her go, Damian has been stuck in a depressed state. He had trouble doing the easiest of things. Eating, sleeping, laughing. He couldn’t bring himself to do them and if it wasn’t for his family, he wouldn’t.

Yesterday I thought I saw your shadow running round

He was completely off balance ever since he broke things off. He followed a strict schedule. He’d sleep in till the afternoon, wake up, train, go on patrol with his family, go drinking, come back in the early morning and sleep. Rinse and repeat every day since she left.

Yesterday was no different. He’d done the same thing as he did every night, but something was off, he felt in in his gut. As he was heading to the pub, he could’ve sworn that he saw her shadow swinging from the rooftops as she had done countless of times with him, but when he looked up he saw nothing. Not even his brothers that he knew followed him every night. Just the sight of that shadow made him drink even more the night before.

It's funny how things never change in this old town

Even before he knew her, Gotham had been infested by villains. There were so many there that they probably beat the number of rats that were hiding in the sewer system. Damian would actually compare them to those rodents but rats learn from their mistakes.

Now, this place is no different. Criminals practically on every street corner. The only difference is that he had changed and everyone knew it. Nobody, not even Bane, dared to approach him. No one wanted to go near the Ice Prince, not when he had just lost his Princess.

So far from the stars

He remembered when they would lie down on the rooftops and look up to the sky hoping to see the stars. They never did, there was to much light pollution, but they tried and they loved it more than anything. Those quiet moments together are some of the things he misses most.

And I want to tell you everything

God, how he wished he could talk to her. He wanted to tell her about the time Jason tripped over his own foot right before jumping from a rooftop or about the time Tim was complaining about being so tired even though he’s been drinking coffee only to realize that he bought decaf. He wanted to tell her how much he missed her and how he longed to have her in his arms. How he regretted letting her go.

The words I never got to say the first time around

During the entire three years and a half that they dated, Damian never said I love you. Not once. I admire you, sure, but never I love you. She knew it though. He went out of his way to make sure that she did, but he never said it and fucking hell, how he regretted it. He knew that she longed to hear him say those words, just like she did, but he never could. He didn’t try hard enough.

God, he remembers when she said it to him. He felt like he was on cloud nine for weeks after. He had just gotten back from patrol and she was sitting on his sofa, Titus’ head on her lap. Damian knew she was tired yet she stayed up to see him so, before coming back home, he had bought her her favourite cookie box. When he gave it to her while pressing a kiss to her forehead, she looked up at him with the warmest smile in the world and told him she loved him. It had surprised him, obviously, but after she said it, he couldn’t get his hands on her fast enough.

And I remember everything

He remembers that night just like he remembers everything about her: their first meeting, her favourite coffee shop, the time he asked her out, her favourite flower, their first date, her favourite restaurant, their first kiss, her favourite sweet, the time he realized he might love her, their first time.

Everything.

And it played on loop in his head like a broken record player.

From when we were the children playing in this fairground

Hours later, Damian wandered around aimlessly for a while before coming across a park. Once more, the longing he felt came back ten times stronger.

When they first met, they were both ten years old and in this very park. He had just gotten taken in by Bruce and was being forced to socialize and hang out with kids his age. She was on a trip with her parents and got lost. From the moment she bumped into him, they were practically attached to the hip, mostly by force. She forced him to take her email so that he could keep helping her, much to his annoyance. She messaged him so much that when she didn’t, he’d get worried. Slowly but surely, she had grown on him and he wasn’t planning on letting her leave.

But that was a long time ago.

Wish I was there with you now

He wished he could go back to when they first met and slap his younger self, telling him to stay attached to this girl and not be a brat. Telling him that she’s the best thing that ever happened to him and to savour every moment they have together before he ruins things.

If the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you

He remembers her first televised charity event where she auctioned off some of her creations. He had grabbed her by the hand and taken her to the dance floor where he planned to ask her out. He twirled her and dipped her, making sure she laughed since he knew she was stressed about the event and hadn’t taken any time for herself. They’re dancing was caught on tape and the video was trending for a while, even more so when people found out they were dating.

Drive highways and byways to be there with you

Fuck it

He was so done with himself being the overprotective alpha when he knew fully well that she can take care of herself. Hell, she could take him, the entire Batfam and every criminal in Gotham with just a look. Imagine if she was trying.

His dumbass had decided that she was in to much danger with the League and the Joker constantly trying to get him, so he broke up with her. But now, he’s done with that stupid ass decision of his. So he hacked her phone and found out where she is, hopped into a car and drove off to her.

Over and over the only truth

He knew it now. He knew it more than anything. He loved her and he was going to tell her. He had to try to get her back, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t try.

He loved her.

Everything comes back to you

Everything he knew was connected to her. His entire life could be tied back to her. So when he drifted into a parking spot in a bar that he had gone with her after every exam they had, he had already planned what to say to her.

I saw that you moved on with someone new

As he walked in, he saw her. Well, he couldn’t miss her. She lit up every room and had a sort of aura around her that made people look at her. Also, she was dancing on a table.

He stood and watched her until her song ended before making a move towards her, but before he reached her, he saw someone else lend her a hand helping her get down.

In the pub that we met he's got his arms around you

They had come here countless of times together. This was their place. Damian was the one that broke things off, telling her to move on, but he couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Here was this random guy with dyed blue hair holding his princess in his arms in their pub.

Who does this guy think he is? Her boyfri- oh...

Damian stood there looking at them. He saw her laugh and smile as if he didn’t exist. As if they never happened. He knew that he broke things off months back, but it still hurt like hell watching her with this guy. How did she move on so fast while he was still stuck in a depressed state? Then again, she always was good at hiding her real feelings.

Please don't cry. Please don't cry. Please don't cry.

It's so hard

Please don't cry.

He couldn’t look at them anymore and stormed out. He got into his car as his eyes started to blur and drove off as fast as he could. Pain like nothing he’s felt before erupted through his chest.

Dying hurt less than this. Fuck.

So hard

Fucking hell. I'm crying.

He eventually had to pull over since he couldn’t see. His face was soaked with tears and he couldn’t see two feet in front of him. He went out and sat on the hood of his car trying to calm down, but every time he’d close his eyes, he saw her and that wretched blue haired boy.

And I want to tell you everything

He wanted to tell her that he had done a mistake by letting her go. That he finally realized how stupid he was. That she was right, like she always is, and that she can take care of herself. He wanted to tell her that they are a team and can help each other. He should, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it at the moment.

The words I never got to say the first time around

He needed to tell her that he loves her more than he needed to breathe air and with the way he was hyperventilating, it really was a necessity.

And I remember everything

He missed her so much he could practically taste her cooking and smell her favourite candles aroma through the air. He knew his brain was playing tricks on him, but he let himself close his eyes and reminisce back to those moments.

From when we were the children playing in this fairground

He opened his eyes finally being able to see and looked around. On his right, he saw a deserted playground.

Obviously, it’s two in the fucking morning.

To his surprise, he actually saw two kids running around in the playground. The longer he stared the more he realized that they weren’t actually there. He was imagining it. He was able to see through them, but what unnerved him the most was that it was obviously his younger self with the love of his life.

Wish I was there with you now

He stared at the illusion for a while, letting himself remember how those moments felt. He remembered being happy, but he just couldn’t for the life of him remember how that felt now. But he sure as hell is going to get that back.

Right fucking now.

As if the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you

As he drove back to the pub, a plan formed in his head. He knew exactly what he had to do to get back in her good graces and he was going to make sure that he stays there.

Drive highways and byways to be there with you

He was most definitely speeding. If he were to race Flash right now, he wouldn’t win, that’s for sure, but he would surely give him a run for his money. He was easily going fifty over the already high limit of the highway and he was pretty sure that police were going to start coming after him soon. But he didn’t care. Correction, he couldn’t care. He was too preoccupied with his plan to worry about the police. Also he was driving a car that clearly belonged to his father, making it even less likely that the police would even bother to stop him.

Over and over the only truth

God, he loved her. He truly needed her in his life otherwise he’d be lost. He didn’t care how dependent that sounded because he knew that it was true.

She was his soulmate.

Everything comes back to you

As he drifted in a spot for the second time that night, he knew that he couldn’t walk out again without talking to her this time. His brothers would surely make fun of him for it.

You still make me nervous when you walk in the room

Damian stormed into the pub, more determined than he was for anything in his life. He spotted her once more. She was still standing next to the blue haired man. Just at the sight of him, he felt his heart clench. He wasn’t going to back down, even if she had someone new in her life. He had to tell her how he felt.

It’s now or never.

Them butterflies they come alive when I'm next to you

As he approached her, he felt butterflies in his stomach. Hell, he felt the whole damn zoo. God, he was nervous.

He gently tapped her shoulder and waited for her to turn towards him. At the sight of him, her eyes widened in shock.

“Can I please talk to you? Maybe somewhere more quiet?” he forced out.

She stared at him for what felt like an eternity before she nodded slowly and let him lead her outside.

Over and over the only truth

Everything comes back to you

And I know that it's wrong

That I can't move on

But there's something about you

Okay, tell her now. You may not have another chance.

“Okay, I’m going to start from the main reason as to why I’m here. I love you. So much. So much so that I swear to god that I have trouble breathing when I think about the depth of my love for you. And, god, I was such an idiot for not telling you when you deserve to be with someone who would shout it from the rooftops.

I know that idiot could’ve been me, but that’s another reason as to why I’m here. I miss you. I miss having you in my arms and waking up to you next to me. I miss going out on missions and kicking ass together and telling you everything and just being with you. I miss you.

Look, I came here earlier and I saw you with that blue haired guy in there and how you were laughing the same way you used to laugh with me. Which makes me believe that you’ve probably moved on, but I need to tell you that I haven’t been able to even look at another woman. I can’t try to be with someone else when I had been with you. You are the one who I’d be willing to change everything for. You are the one. I don’t know how else to put it into words other than this. You’re my soulmate.

I didn’t come here expecting you to suddenly run back into my arms, but I just wanted to tell you.”

If the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you

By the end of his monologue, they had attracted all the eyes of those in the pub and those in the parking lot. He hadn’t realized that he raised his voice. He felt them scrutinizing him but he couldn’t care less, not when she still hasn’t said something.

She just stood there looking at him silently, taking his words in. She approached him slowly still staring at him. As she cupped his face gently, she whispered to him:

“All I’ve ever wanted was for you to open up to me. I love you too, Damian.”

They both leaned forward, meeting halfway, which caused the cheers of those around them.

Damian had longed for this kiss for months and now that he finally had it, he wasn’t going to let it be short. He wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled against her lips.

Everything comes back to you

Everything comes back to you

He drove her back to his, no their house. As they crossed the threshold of the house he turned back to her and smiled. It was only as he kissed her for the second time that night did he realize that they have an audience.

His family stood in front of them all of them wearing smiles on their faces. Alfred spoke first, quickly followed by the cacophony of the rest of the bat-fam.

“Welcome back, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Should I prepare the ingredients for tomorrow morning’s breakfast? Will it be another Marinette special?”

So what do you think? I’ve been working on this since december and I’m finally happy enough with it.

@2sunchild2

... idk who else to tag

[rosaetae]

the chrysanthemum effect | 7

[this chapter is apart of the chrysanthemum effect]

☇ “Keeping your flowers, keeping your pain— it’s already everything you need to move on. How do you move on from things if you’re not willing to accept them?“

➣  pairing: taehyung x reader

➣  genre: hanahaki!au, model!taehyung, weddingplanner(ish)!au  

➣  word count: 4.3k

➣  summary: the hanahaki disease has become a stigma in this world where if you had it, you are looked down upon. her flowers were white chrysanthemums and they have been for the past two years. she was in love with someone who obviously didn’t feel the same way, and this was her way of moving on— along with the people in her life who had to conform around the hanahaki disease.

"Eunmi, I need to tell you something," you say one spontaneous moment while at the floral shop with Eunmi.

Love and Knots was a flower shop built on the outskirts of the city that her parents used to own but got passed down to her sister and it has been the only flower shop that Eunmi ever trusts and will ever use for the weddings she plans.

Days before weddings, you two would take a trip there and help out her sister with the bouquets and centerpieces for that certain wedding.

"What is it?" She asks, counting the certain white hydrangeas for the Fridwalds's wedding taking place tomorrow. The Fridwalds called for hydrangeas as their centerpiece followed by a few accent ferns— something that you suggested especially when winter was approaching.

"That night at the charity event when I ran away from Taehyung, I didn't mean to desert you," you began gathering four hydrangeas and putting them into its glass vases.

"I know," she hums understandingly.

"It was because I felt sick," you state quietly, watching as she pauses from counting to write down a number on the notepad.

"You felt sick?"

Nodding, you don't look at her. "Sick, as in, my stomach tightened and my throat started to itch. It wasn't a particularly good feeling," you pause.

Before you were going to finish, Eunmi shoots her head up at you. "So he is someone we should be worried about! I knew I did something inhumane— even my own gut was screaming at me that I made a huge mistake—"

"Eunmi, no," you shake your head, letting your hands cup around the vase as you look at her. "I have Hanahaki."

Suddenly, her face of worry switches into a face of indifference, speechless as to how and what she could respond with.

"And Taehyung's the reason why," you continue, gripping the vase a little tighter from the anxiety that you were feeling. "I've had it for two years. That's how I know Taehyung."

She opens her mouth, before she closes it again before she's tending back to the hydrangeas in front of her. "You have Hanahaki.... and you're just telling me this now?"

Shrugging, you chew on the inside of your cheek. "It didn't seem important."

"___," she scoffs. From what you heard you thought you were going to hear the disappointing comments of having the disease, but instead, you see a baffled and amused look on her face. "You have Hanahaki and you work under a wedding organization that basically encourages love— of course it's important!"

"It's... it's not a big deal," you stutter, taken aback by her reaction.

"But, it is," she stresses, letting her hands drop from the flowers to place her hand on her hips. "This is a big deal, ___!"

"You make it out to seem like it's a bad thing that I'm working as a wedding planner's assistant," you let out a tiny laugh, attempting to lighten up the mood. "You're divorced."

"My divorce was a mutual understanding! You're telling me you've been throwing up flowers even before I hired you?"

The sound of astonishment elicits from her mouth, causing you to shrug again.

"It's not a big deal. I don't throw them up as much anymore," you take the four hydrangeas from her pile and set them into the vase.

"You really are something else, ___," she lets out a scoff. "You help me plan these beautiful weddings with couples that are in love and don't even give a damn about the disease and those who do have it, and you didn't even bother telling me you have Hanahaki?"

"Like I said, not a big deal. I like being surrounded by love. My disease is not that important."

"It is when you're working in a field of romance!" She exclaims exasperatingly. "These are the things you need to tell me, ___. I may be your boss, but this is something you just don't hide."

"Eunmi—"

"Don't Eunmi me. These things are things you don't hide," she repeats, pointing a finger at you. "People may not give a shit about those who have it, but I do. You know how many weddings I planned that got cancelled because people actually fall out of love? Why do you think I'm very picky with the weddings I plan? It's heartbreaking to find out that someone else is going through that heartbreak and they're being punished because they thought the one person they loved will love them just as much and forever.

"And now I'm just finding out that you have it? For two flying years? And not a single thought about the surgery? And you ultimately decided that working in a place that reminds you of the love that you once had would be nice? Are you insane?"

Eunmi slams her hand on the notepad, causing you to flinch at her sudden movement.

"I'm sorry," you meekly mutter. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but it's just that... I don't want to lose this job because you think it's right for me. I knew what I was getting myself into, Eunmi, and I chose to be here. Planning weddings and sorting out hydrangeas for the centerpieces? I love helping to celebrate love because I believe that everyone can have their chance of true love, even when I can't."

"Trust me, I love love just as much as the other person, ___," she lets out a sigh. "But it's okay to hurt. And it's okay to not love love anymore. The Hanahaki disease has always been this stigma that you're pathetic when the person you love doesn't love you anymore— but you're not."

Attentively, you look at her, eyebrows scrunching. "I didn't think you'd be highly affected," you murmur, looking back down at the hydrangeas, adding the fern to the vases.

"I am," she says, causing you to pause at tending to the centerpieces. "I've seen enough people come up to my office with tears stained eyes and hiccuping flowers wanting to cancel their wedding because their fiancé fell out of love."

You stayed silent, only feeling sympathy towards those who were willing to give their whole life only to be punished.

"What are your flowers?"

"Hm?" You snap out of your thoughts, looking up at her.

"Your flowers," she repeats, writing something on the notepad. "What are they?"

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you look around Love and Knots, your eyes roaming around the colors and shapes of the flowers and plants to find the flowers you knew all too well.

You point your finger over to the corner next to the bluebells. "Over there in that corner."

Eunmi follows your line of sight, taking a second of recognition before she's looking back at the hydrangeas. "White chrysanthemums, huh."

The sound of your own flowers felt like your second name knowing how much you've held onto them for awhile.

"Can I ask why those flowers?" She asks, grabbing at the hydrangeas and handing them to you.

You smile, knowing that you shouldn't be smiling that you had to explain why those were the flowers they were, but recalling the trip down memory lane as to why they are what they are, you couldn't help but smile. "It was a book. He didn't like flowers— too cheesy, he said. So instead, on our first date, he got me White Chrysanthemum by Mary Bracht."

"Ah," she sighs. "So he really was a keeper."

A smile painting your lips, you nod. "Yeah, he was."

You notice that Eunmi looks at you in the corner of her eyes before turning her attention to the flowers while your mind rewinds back to the moment he picked you up, your body filling up with first date jitters, and though you weren't even expecting anything, a book is what made your heart full.

"Two years," she marvels. "And not a single thought about the surgery?"

"Oh, I've thought about it," you assure her. "But if you think about it, the surgery makes us more vulnerable to pain. Instead of moving on from it, it makes you forget about the person you loved and all the pain and suffering that came with them just to repeat with another. I think, if you were to accept your flowers, you learn to bloom."

She doesn't say anything. And not that you were expecting to hear a response from her, but you wonder if her perspective on your changed for better or for worst.

"I hope one day I can plan your wedding," Eunmi speaks up, out of the blue and pulling you out of your thoughts again.

"What?" You let out a chuckle, moving the finished vases to the cart next to the table. "Why? I don't even plan to get married."

"Still," Eunmi chuckles lightly, giving you a nudge. "You're always going on about how love is like a valuable treasure that people take advantage of. Even though I'm divorced and have no intention in finding love again, you truly make me believe in love. If you can do that, you deserve to find love and happiness."

"Eunmi—"

"So don't tell me that having Hanahaki isn't a big deal. Marriage isn't on everyone's priority, but you and everyone who has it should know that you can love again— and you can be loved again."

"Hey," Hoseok smiles at the other side of the door as you open it, totally unsuspecting his presence before he calls you and tells you he was coming in a minute. Greeting him with a confused smile, he looks down at your outfit where you looked nicer than most days. "You look nice."

"Thanks," you scrunch your eyebrows at him, letting him inside. "What do you want?"

You hear an exaggerated gasp coming out of his mouth. "Rude that you would think I came here for one thing," he puts a hand on his heart defensively before you're rolling your eyes, closing the front door behind him and checking the time on the clock hung on the wall.

7:44 PM.

"Then what could you possibly be here for, Hoseok?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

Hoseok shrugs, placing himself on the sofa, immediately causing yourself to pull out your phone and text Taehyung that you may be a little late. "Why didn't you tell me?"

And instantly, you found yourself pausing— your thumbs hovering over the keyboard before you're locking your phone and placing it on the table beside the front door, looking up at Hoseok with full attention. "Tell you what?"

Admittedly, you were scared shitless that he must have found out that your flowers have grown outside your particular organ somehow— knowing that he was Jung Hoseok and he knew everything at a given time. Then you began to grow nervous. What if it wasn't just that, it was also that he knew you've been seeing Taehyung— and not for the purposes that you set yourself for... but because you wanted to.

Hoseok makes a face. "That you and Eunmi are actually planning Jeon's wedding?"

The sigh that comes out of mouth comes out a bit too hastily, but you played it off by clearing your throat.

"I didn't think it was a big deal?"

"Yes, it is! I didn't actually think Eunmi would agree."

"Neither did I," you truthfully tell him. "But that was all Jungkook and Annie's convincing. I simply brought her to the charity event and—"

"Is Somin here?" He cuts you off randomly, looking around his shoulder into the hallway where Somin's room stands at the end of the it. Remembering that Somin was taking her soul cycle class that night, you shake your head, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Thanks for interrupting me, but no, she's not home."

"Good."

Arching your eyebrow at him, you threw him a questionable look to which he stands up from the sofa and fixes his blazer.

"I need you to do me a favor."

The instantaneous sound of "favor" rolling out of his tongue rings an alarm in your head. "Nuh-uh," you shake your head, waving your hands in front of you. "Last time I did that, I almost got my head chopped off by Eunmi."

Hoseok, being someone of not giving up easily, crinkles his nose. "Okay, I know, but this is specifically for Somin, not for me or for anybody else."

Somin's name popping up makes you scrunch your eyebrows. "Why? What are you doing that's supposedly meant for Somin?"

"As you know, next week is the annual soiree," Hoseok states, causing you to nod your head knowing that that event was the event he reminded you about almost every day for a month until he stopped. "And I know you don't really want to go, but can you convince Somin somehow to go?"

"The only way that she would go is if I was going."

Without even saying anything, Hoseok presses his lips together, shoving his hands into his pockets.

That's when you're groaning in realization.

"Hoseok!"

"___!" He mimics before he approaches you, taking your hands in his as an act of entreatment. You give him an aggravated look before you're taking your hands back from him. "Look, please. I know you don't like these big events, but there's something that I need to do for her that night and she needs to be there."

"Isn't she mad at you?" You ask, referring to the quiet grumbles you heard from her before you were leaving for class about how she was mad at him with a mention of a 'dumb conversation that means nothing— absolutely nothing'.

"Yeah, yeah," Hoseok scratches the back of his head, seemingly exasperated. "I know, we had a fight last night over the phone, but I was doing some thinking, and..." He pauses, you waiting for him to continue. "There's something I want to do for her— I need to do for her."

"Do I get to know why or are you going to leave me with suspense to give me another reason as to why I need to go next week?"

He lets out a light-hearted scoff. "I guess you'll see when you and Somin get there."

Letting out an irritated sigh, you nod, closing your eyes. "Fine. Is that all for your visit today, Mr. Jung?"

"Formalities," he observes amusedly. "How nice of you."

"That's the nicest I'll ever get," you bit a smile. "So please— if that is all I can do of service—leave, because I have to be somewhere."

"Where?"

"It doesn't concern you."

"Why not? Is it top secret? I can keep a secret."

"Hoseok, get out," you nearly beg, your keys in your hand. "I'm already late."

"Late for what?"

"None of your business. Can you please leave?"

"Not unless you tell me where you're going that's got you dressed up and panicking about being late— wait... is this a date? Am I making you late for a date?"

Instantly, his face lit up like a thousand Christmas lights, soon interested in the fact that you were going on a date— which it isn't a date.

"No, Hoseok."

"It is, huh? With who?" He crosses his arms, preparing himself to pester you to the edge. "It's a Friday night and you're going out? Let me guess, movie and dinner? A party? Clubbing? Who's it with? I want to know who the lucky guy is."

"Hoseok—"

"You're going out on a date and you don't even want me to be happy for you? Come on, who are you seeing? I won't say anything."

You bit your lip, checking the time on your phone along with a missed call from Taehyung. Groaning in defeat, you look at the eager Hoseok, a smug smile on his face. "If I tell you, you're going to drop me off right now."

Hoseok, with his smirk growing, reaches into his pockets and dangles his keys in his hands. "Let's get going, shall we?"

There was lights in rows, smoke in the air, and nostalgic magic when you arrived.

It was 8:12 PM and you only had two missed calls from Taehyung to which you texted him that you were going to be a little late. Hoseok drove past a section, you requesting to get dropped off a little further from where the night market began.

When you told Hoseok that you were going to the night market with Taehyung, the car ride was inevitably quiet— to which you expected, knowing that he would be in shock in the only way you knew: not talking.

"So," he says as he makes a turn. "You're actually going on this date?"

"It's not a date," you tell him as he finishes making the turn.

"Mmm, pretty sure it is."

"Okay," you let out a scoff. "Then what do you call taking Somin out the other night for dinner? She said it was a private dinner, too?"

"Touché, ma chouchouette."

You smugly smile at him, unbuckling your seatbelt as he slows down to a stop in front of a store.

"Hey," he stops you as your hands grabbed the handle of his car. "Be careful."

You let out a snort. "I'll be fine."

"I know you will be, but just... be careful, okay— don't do anything that will make you want to throw up your flowers anymore than you already do."

"Okay, noted," you nod, offering him a smile.

"I'm serious, ___. I can't tell you who you should or should not hangout with, but this is Taehyung. As much as he is my friend, I just don't want you suffering anymore. The most amazing person in this world doesn't deserve that."

But even the most amazing person in this world receives it.

"That's sweet that you think I'm the most amazing person in this world, Hoseok," you taunt him as he rolls his eyes at you, rubbing his ever-so-rare compliment back at him. "But don't worry. I heard you loud and clear."

As you shut the door behind you, you began your journey to the night market that you used to know.

The last time you went to the night market, it was with Somin in an attempt to cheer you up after an unfaithful visit to the doctor's where you truly did unravel to have Hanahaki.

Needless to say, the night market helped with all its magic and curious galore. And though you wished to go more often, you never really had the chance due to everything all at once occupying every minute of your life.

As you passed the familiar turn past the boutique, the lights became closer and the chitter chatter of the crowd was audible.

Don't do anything that will make you want to throw up your flowers anymore than you already do.

This is Taehyung.

At first, you thought it was silly.

The relationship you built for yourself and Taehyung was completely platonic, what could he possibly do? Right? He established it. Nothing more, nothing less.

Right?

Maybe you were letting yourself get hurt again. Having an old soul come back into your life was never deemed bad, but when that old soul used to be someone you loved and someone you still love— it's hard not to overthink your actions. Hell, you're walking to a night market to meet him there— the person who invited you because he remembered that you liked potato twists and taro balls.

Then you think, why are you letting him back into your life?

You only were supposed to grab closure from him, never intending to let those Planetarium morning walks happen more than once— or even the talk in the morning become talks before he goes off to work. And yeah, the necklace was out of your control, but why on earth did he need to buy that necklace for you in the first place?

In the midst of all your thoughts and all of your overbearing voices in your head, you found that the street you were walking on became unsteady, the asphyxiation increasing with each step.

Everything was blurry.

Strangers became lines, and the lights became uneven streaks in your eyes. And surely it was the lack of oxygen and you couldn't help but think back to Doctor Wren and the x-ray he showed you of your lungs.

When your head felt as light as a feather, you took every power in you to look up— to look farther away from the unsteady ground. As you did so, it was like you were being pulled out of the water because as you let your eyes flutter to adjust your eyesight, the blur soon began to focus.

And there he was.

In all of his glory, there he was. Chestnut hair, starry-eyed, and dream-like— standing before you, completely oblivious of your presence before he looked in your direction, as if he knew you were there afar.

And suddenly, in that moment, that nostalgic and familiar moment, where you're staring at him and he's staring at you, it was like your heart was no longer in pain and it's ironic because you knew he was the reason for your suffering— but in that instant, there was no flowers, no chrysanthemums, no asphyxiation.

For the first time in such a long while, you could finally breathe.

Because as strange as it may be, all that mattered was that he was there.

Taehyung was a bit worried, to say the least. But when he gets a text from you that you were on your way, he decided to buy those potato twists that you liked so much for you. Your favorite flavor was the cheese, barbecue, and sour cream all combined in one. He used to make fun of you for that, until you told him to try it and he guessed your taste buds aren't that bad.

"Are you waiting for someone?" The lady asks as she takes a pre-spiraled potato and sticks it through a skewer stick.

Taehyung makes a face, almost confused by her question.

"You've been standing around this area for the past 20 minutes like a lost puppy," she chuckles. "Are you waiting for your date?"

"Oh, yeah," Taehyung laughs sheepishly. "She's running a little late."

"Uh oh. You think she might've stood you up?"

"I hope not," Taehyung says with a chuckle. "I bought her favorite night market snacks."

"So both of these are for her?"

"Sort of?" He shrugs. "I do this thing where I buy two, one for her and one for me, but I never eat mine because I know she would go for seconds, so then I would end up giving it to her."

Her head raises from making the potato twists to light-heartedly laugh at Taehyung and his way of kindness towards you. "A keeper," she observes. "What's she like then? Does she do the same little things, too?"

"Sometimes," he says with a smile. "I'm not good at giving gifts, but she makes it out to seem like they're the best thing in the world. Once I bought her a pair of socks and she wore them every time they came out of the wash."

"Because you gave it to her, silly."

"Hm?"

"A girl who loves you that much will love and appreciate anything you give her. You could give her a cookie and she'd savor every bit of it 'til the very crumb. You must have been very special to her."

"Sort of," he says. "I guess. It's been weird over the past few years."

"How so?"

Taehyung scratches the back of his head. "I just don't know where we stand anymore."

"Try in front of each other," she states easily and nebulously, causing Taehyung to furrow his eyebrows at her statement.

"What?"

"You said you don't know where you both stand, but what you don't realize is that you're actually standing in front of each other. You both just don't know it."

Taehyung, taken aback by the response, looks away, unsure how to reply to something so specific.

He was supposed to look away for a second, but Taehyung looks over the crowd that was growing with people at every stand and those walking by. He lets his eyes linger, only for him to realize that in the city and universe amongst the different types of people moving and walking by, his eyes were searching for you.

And only you.

In such a whirlwind of timely events, his eyes had caught your form— one that he can make out even huddled in the world of strangers. It was like finding a candle in a dark room, the sun in the bluest sky, the light in his darkest self— there was no way he could have missed you. After all, you were glowing.

As so, there you were, looking around— searching for him as he was just searching for you. And in an instant, your eyes met his.

There was this look that Taehyung noticed even from a distance in your eyes.

It was the same way he looked in yours.

Relief.

It took him a moment, but when he finally registered that you were standing right in front of him, he felt this weird toss and turn in his stomach. It wasn't unpleasant— it was more nostalgic.

Looking at you, in its odd prospect that took such a long time, made him realize that, in a world where he felt incomplete— where he had to leave because he wasn't whole— he had finally come to the final realization that you were the missing piece.

That his pass broken self wasn't lost because of love and care for you; you were always the piece he needed— the silver lining that he never noticed until now.

"You alright? You look lost."

"Yeah," Taehyung blinks out of his thoughts, a smile quickly forming on his lips as he stares down at you. "I was, but not anymore."

Because all that mattered to him was that he was there, and he wasn't leaving anytime soon.

[warofshadowstheorder]

Chapter 08

The search party continued looking all night and into the next day for the man who had escaped.  Agent Taylor was especially furious when their efforts met with no success.  He hated the fact that Odin had pulled off the assassination to begin with, but the thought of him getting away with it was even worse.  What added to Taylor’s frustrations was that Odin had just, there was no other word for it, disappeared.

Taylor was now in the base commander’s office where he’d just gotten off the phone with Assistant Director Andrews.  Taylor had expressed his belief that with the assassin at large there was a threat to the President and had been granted some time to stay and help with the search.  The authorities were already sending out Odin’s booking photo to every news media station in the world and telling them to regard him as armed and extremely dangerous and to not approach him.

Bledsoe had gone back to sleep after her altercation with Taylor.  She tried to sleep, but found that she was restless after all that had happened.  She spent most of the night lying awake on the cot that had been provided for her and staring at the ceiling trying to fall asleep, to no avail.

She eventually decided that the only way she could move on was to look into the matter herself.  After that, sleep came to her and she passed the rest of the night in peace.  The only time she had anything but a peaceful rest was when her dreams turned to memories of the night that had led to her pending suspension.

She couldn’t get the Prussian blue eyes out of her mind.  Not knowing what the rest of the man looked like was driving her crazy.  Ever since she was a little girl she hated not knowing anything that she wanted to.  This trait had been what led her to study as hard as she did in school and eventually earn her a full-ride scholarship to Yale, where she became a staple on the Dean’s List.

Since this trait had gotten her most of the success she’d acquired over the years, she decided to go with it.  She had three months of free time coming her way that she was determined to use to find the other man.

She woke up at dawn, then dressed in the sandals, cargo shorts, and white t-shirt she’d brought with her.  Having no need for formality, she let her hair down and did her best to look like a tourist.

She packed her bag with everything else she’d brought, careful to put her Secret Service badge and Passport where she could get to them quickly, and called the airstrip to let them know when to expect her.  She put on her sunglasses and left the base, turning in her visitor’s pass on her way out.

She walked out to where she’d met with Taylor and remembered where she’d seen the guards and others pursuing Odin.  Her first impulse was to go down the same way and see if she could find anything that the search party missed.  But then, in a moment of realization, she thought of what she would do if it had been her fleeing the facility.

She thought to herself that she would want to throw them off from the beginning so that she could stay at least one step ahead of her pursuers.  She took a look at the detention facility and got an idea.  She realized that there was a direct route to the sea, but that a roundabout route was also available.

She walked to the rear part of the facility and took a look at the ground before returning her gaze to the facility.  She then walked the route she would have taken, which happened to be the same one that Odin had used the night before.  She walked until she came to the sea.  Thinking for a moment, she decided to hop a ride on a ferry instead of swimming across.

When she reached the other side, she started walking along the shoreline, careful to look for any sign of where someone swimming would have surfaced.  She expected to find something very early in her search, so much that she double checked several areas.

She began to think that her instincts were starting to turn against her.  There was no way that anyone could have swam as far as she had walked, while simultaneously avoiding an entire search party, and not be passed out on the shoreline.  Then, she remembered who she was dealing with.  Specifically, she remembered the man she had fought with at the pavilion and had heard incredible stories about in reports she had read during her plane trip to Miami.

Remembering this, particularly the account of him dodging bullets, she kept moving forward.  She was finding it difficult to focus on the task at hand due to the fact that she had those Prussian blue eyes stuck in her memory and still gnawing at her thoughts.  They were expressionless in her memory, but it was still as though they were taunting her.

Pushing that image and the feelings she associated with it aside, she continued in the task at hand.  After a while longer, her diligent search was rewarded with her discovery of some strange-looking marks in the sand.  The shape and structure were obviously not footprints.  Bledsoe was not an expert in tracking or in identifying different kinds of prints, but it was obvious to her that someone had crawled from where she was standing.

She looked around and saw footprints a short distance away, she could tell that they had been left there recently.  She eagerly ran to where the prints were and followed them up a small ridge that led to an outdoor cantina.  It looked deserted, but as she got closer she could hear something from inside the small enclosed area behind the bar.

She walked up to the bar and heard a splash behind the door.  She wondered at this and knocked on the bar counter a few times.  She waited patiently for a few more moments and was about to knock on the bar again but decided on calling out ‘hello’.  When she still heard nothing, she briefly considered drawing her weapon and barging into the backroom.  Her desire to not potentially cause an international incident restrained her, and a moment later she heard another splash followed by the door opening and Eduardo walking out.  She could immediately tell that he had splashed water on his face, but wondered why she hadn’t heard a faucet running.

There were a few moments where Bledsoe’s suspicion coupled with Eduardo’s surprise at a beautiful and unexpected guest caused an uncomfortable silence.  Both of them were waiting for the other to make some kind of indication of their intentions.  Bledsoe waited for Eduardo to indicate if he had anything to hide.  Eduardo waited to see if Bledsoe was a tourist or one of the people Odin had alluded to might be pursuing him.

“No ingles,” Eduardo said breaking the silence.

“That’s okay,” Bledsoe answered in Spanish to Eduardo’s surprise, “I think that no one should go someplace on vacation unless they speak the language.”

“Que bien,” Eduardo answered genuinely impressed to hear Bledsoe speaking Spanish, “but I’m afraid we’re closed.  I came in here to clean up, it was quite rowdy last night.”

“Just one drink please,” Bledsoe answered doing her best to sound alluring while not being completely flirtatious.  Eduardo relaxed and nodded his approval.

“What can I get for you?” Eduardo asked.

“Do you have coffee,” Bledsoe asked, “I’ve wanted to try real Cuban coffee for a very long time.”

“We do,”  Eduardo said with a slight smile, “I trust that you know something about our particular blend?”

“I take mine trong anyway,” Bledsoe answered with a smile.

Eduardo returned the smile and set about getting Bledsoe’s request.  Bledsoe let out a deep breath and looked around the bar.  Despite not drinking, in between college and hangouts with colleagues in the Secret Service she had been in enough bars to be able to compare Eduardo’s to other establishments.  As such, she could tell that it was a dive.  She figured that any place like this that had an enclosed area complete with a deadbolt was trafficking in a lot more than booze.  Her eyes eventually found the Wurlitzer and she wandered over to have a look at the selection.

It only took a glance for her to see that it screamed pre-embargo.  Unable to resist, she put in a coin and selected Buddy Holly’s “Maybe Baby.”  Bledsoe couldn’t help but smile as the small records moved before stopping at her selection where a small mechanical arm picked it up and put it on the turntable.

As her song of choice played, she couldn’t resist dancing back to the bar.  She was puzzled to see a shot glass on top of a coaster by her seat.  She sat down and, her native customs taking hold, downed it in one gulp.  She realized her mistake before swallowing it, and felt her eyes open as wide as they could.  She involuntarily let out a loud gasp and looked toward Eduardo who let out a light chuckle as he looked on.

“I heard that Cuban coffee was strong,” Bledsoe said with fainted breath, “but I had no idea it was that concentrated.”

“Everyone has a similar reaction when they try it for the first time,” Eduardo replied jovially, “can I interest you in some more?”

“Okay,” Bledsoe answered, “but I’ll sip it this time.”  Eduardo filled another shot glass and set it down on the coaster.  Bledsoe took a sip and looked around, her eyes wandered the area searching for anything out of the ordinary, any clue that might help her know if she was on the right track, or that she could use as leverage to pressure Eduardo.  After a few moments, she noticed that the door to the enclosed area was ajar just enough that she could see an item that was completely out of place in that location.  She took the best look that she could inside the enclosed room while unconsciously moving her head up and down in time to the music and humming along.

She chose to act as though she had just noticed the strange object behind the door and decided to commence with the reason she had come.

“Senor,” she called out to Eduardo, “where did you get that?”

Eduardo froze for a few moments when he realized the object of her inquiry.  He frantically tried to think of a reply that wouldn’t raise suspicion.  He got a little distracted when he looked in her direction and saw Bledsoe looking expectantly at him with her beautiful face as she took another sip from her shot glass.  He shook his head, remembering his wife at home, and then blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Oh that,” he scoffed, “my wife’s family owned that, some kind of antique.  My mother-in-law gave it to my wife but we can’t keep it in the house so I’ve just been leaving it in the backroom.”

“That’s interesting,” Bledsoe said, “I only ask because my brother has something nearly identical to this.  He told me that he got it in Istanbul when he was out that way with the Navy.  Do your wife’s ancestors come from that area?”

“I don’t know how they got it,” Eduardo said after a pause, “all my mother-in-law told me about it was that it was made anciently and designed for executions by boiling in oil.”

“Interesting,” Bledsoe said still looking at it, “I’ll have to ask my brother more about his the next time I see him.”

“I have no idea what it was used for,” Eduardo said, “all I know is that I’m stuck with it here.  Although I do make good use of it, especially in the summer.”

Bledsoe looked at him quizzically, Eduardo picked up on her body language.  He walked through the door, got on his knees in front of the cauldron, cupped his hands together, and quickly plunged them into the water.  The motion created a small wave, which flowed back into his hands.  Once the wave was over his hands, he  brought them up to his face.

“I hate to say this,” Eduardo said after a few moments, “but I need to get home to see my family for a while before business starts picking up.”

“Damn,” Bledsoe remarked as she finished her coffee and put an American 5-dollar bill on the bar, “there isn’t much of an opportunity if someone wants to grab a drink in the morning.”

“What can I say,” Eduardo remarked doing his best to be friendly and to not let on that he knew something serious was going on after seeing what Bledsoe had placed on the bar, he knew that Americans did not come to Cuba unless it was for something official, usually related to the government, “pretty much everyone here works during the day and drinks at night.  I try to accommodate them.”

“So,” Bledsoe asked, “am I the only one that’s been here this morning?”

“Claro que si,” Eduardo said after pausing for a few seconds, “as I said, the locals work all day and drink at night.  So, for now I am completely at your service.”

Accustomed to receiving sleazy comments from strange men, Bledsoe ignored the remark about him being completely at her service.  She knew that he was lying now because she had heard him talking with someone when she had arrived.  She wanted to keep pressing Eduardo for information, but she didn’t want to be too forward.

“Are you sure,” she asked attempting to put on a tone of curious interest, “because I could hear you talking with someone when I got to the bar.”

Eduardo knew he was caught.  He attempted to do his best to tell the truth while leaving out important details.

“A friend called earlier,” Eduardo said struggling to sound casual, “the phone is in the office.”  He gestured to the door as he uttered the word ‘office’.

“May I please use your phone,” Bledsoe asked, “I need to call my hotel to make some arrangements.”

Eduardo was surprised by the request, but he answered quickly.  “I’m afraid that I can’t let you do that,” Eduardo answered, “but I can call a taxi for you to take you to your hotel.”

“Senor,” Bledsoe started as she set down her bag and took out her ID, “I’m going to be honest with you.”  She took her badge out and showed it to Eduardo.  “I’m an agent with the United States Secret Service and I’m looking for a murderer who escaped from the prison.  I believe that he may have come this way.”  Bledsoe gave a brief description of Odin’s appearance, “have you seen him?  I ask because he seems to have escaped by way of the water and I think he came ashore close to your establishment.”

Helping Odin had been Eduardo’s only assignment up to this point, and he was now wondering if it would be his last.  He was panicking inside, and then he realized that there was no way she could prove that Odin was ever in the cantina.  He also knew that she could search up and down, even tear the entire place apart, and not find any trace of him.

“I will certainly keep an eye out for him,” Eduardo answered after a little while, “who should I contact if I do see him?”

Bledsoe thought for a moment and then suggested that he contact the local police.  “Just to put myself at ease,” Bledsoe said, “may I go look through your office?  You may feel free to observe if you are concerned about me going through your things.”

“Feel free,” Eduardo answered with no hint of the anxiety that had threatened to surface moments before.  All Bledsoe found during her search were materials typical of any business owner’s office.  Her eyes continually wandered back to the cauldron, unable to get over how similar in appearance it was to the one she had seen at her brother’s house.

She thought of everything in her search, even checking the floorboards for trap doors or other hidden compartments.  After several minutes, she was forced to conclude that Clark Kent had not come this way, or that if he did there was no way to prove it.

“I’m finished,” Bledsoe said trying to mask her disappointment at her lack of findings, “I appreciate your cooperation Senor Gomez.”  Bledsoe extended her hand to Eduardo as she finished speaking.

“No problem,” Eduardo replied, taking her hand, “I hope you and your friends find this man.  He sounds dangerous, and we do not need men like that running around in Cuba.”

“No one does,” Bledsoe replied coldly, “que te vaya bien.”

Eduardo repeated the phrase and watched Bledsoe walk away.  He waited for a little while until he saw Bledsoe going back the way she came.  When she was out of sight, Eduardo quickly went inside the office and back to the cauldron to write a quick note:

Eduardo Gomez, Cuba, needs to talk.

He repeated the same procedure that he had done with Odin’s note.  Dropping it into the cauldron and waiting.  While he waited, he went over what he was going to say in his mind.  He wasn’t sure how long he’d need to wait, but he had plenty to go over in his mind before then.  After a while, Eduardo saw the water change and the image of a beautiful young Asian woman appear in it.

Eduardo stared into the water, this was his first time communicating with the Monastery and he wasn’t sure about any protocols that might be involved.  The woman looked up at him from the cauldron, waiting for him to speak.

“Hello?” Eduardo eventually got out still unsure of how to proceed.

“Is this your first time doing this?” the woman asked in a tone that was simultaneously serious and understanding.  Eduardo could only nod in response.

“Okay,” she said, “the only thing you need to know is that normally in the note you’ll want to also list how high a priority your message is.”

“Well,” Eduardo answered, “I think what I have to say is very important.”

“Then tell me,” the woman said, “and I will relay it to one of the Shepherds here.”

“Earlier today,” Eduardo began, “I helped a Knight get back to the Monastery.  Right before he even left, an American Secret Service Agent came looking for him.”

“Did he find anything,” the woman asked, “would he have any way of suspecting how he got out?”

“The agent was a woman,” Eduardo answered, “and even if she suspects anything, she doesn’t have any proof and it would be difficult for her to describe any suspicions she might have.”

“Good,” she answered, “but the Shepherd will probably want to know about this just in case.  Did you happen to catch the agent’s name?”

“Bledsoe,” Eduardo said remembering the name on the badge, “Alexis Bledsoe.”

“I’m certain we have a contact in the Secret Service,” the woman answered, “I’ll talk to our U.S. Shepherd.  Thank you very much for this information, Watcher Gomez.”

“It is my pleasure,” Eduardo answered, “let me know if I can ever do anything to assist the Order.”

“We’ll do that,” the woman answered, “and we hope that nothing bad comes to you through your service.”

“If it does,” Eduardo answered, “I will accept it gladly.  It would be a small price to pay for helping such a great cause.”

“We’re glad to have a Watcher like you Eduardo,” the woman replied, “remember to take the rock out of the cauldron when I send it back to you.”

Eduardo nodded and soon the water returned to its normal state.  A few seconds later, the rock he’d tied the note around was at the bottom of the cauldron.  Retrieving it promptly, he put it back with the others and took a breath of relief.  It had been an eventful morning for Eduardo and he needed a few moments to unwind.  He decided that now was the time to do what he had said he was going to do.  He locked up his office, put up a cerrado sign, and went home to see his family.

Bledsoe searched the area around the cantina.  Finding nothing, she retraced her steps back to the ferry station.  Finding nothing, she boarded the next available ferry and made her way back to the base, the return trip giving her an opportunity to consider her next move.  She concluded that any further efforts on her part in Cuba  would be fruitless.

She thought of what she would do when she got back to the states.  She knew she had to meet with Assistant Director Andrews to start her suspension, but after that she had three months to do whatever she wanted.

She had originally planned on being on the campaign trail for the next several months, but that was out of the question.  She figured she could stay around the D.C. metro area or even take a long overdue vacation.  But inside, she knew that she couldn’t relax while Clark Kent was still at large and could not leave the matter alone until it was resolved.  She didn’t have much information, and could not investigate through the Secret Service, but she had more than enough motivation to justify investigating by herself.

With her plan for the next three months resolved, Bledsoe finished her journey to the airstrip.  She met up with the pilot and he informed her which plane they would be using.  She got on the plane and took a seat.  Quickly taking out a pen and small notebook she had in her bag, she began writing everything she knew about her pending investigation.

The main things she wrote down were fifteenth century cauldrons (ask Hunter about his), and Secret Service insider (?).  She had decided on investigating, but she needed to know where to begin.  The pilot came back and the plane took off soon afterwards.  Bledsoe had nothing but time to think during her flight back to Miami and the flight that would put her back in D.C.

Relaxing into her seat on the plane, she figured it would be a good idea to be quiet about her investigation, the last thing she wanted was to get jumped again.  The mania now running rampant inside her provided the perfect distraction to her dislike of flying.

[wetalkinboutbooks]

A Torch Against the Night by Sabaa Tahir

Summary:  Elias and Laia are running for their lives. After the events of the Fourth Trial, Martial soldiers hunt the two fugitives as they flee the city of Serra and undertake a perilous journey through the heart of the Empire.

Laia is determined to break into Kauf—the Empire’s most secure and dangerous prison—to save her brother, who is the key to the Scholars’ survival. And Elias is determined to help Laia succeed, even if it means giving up his last chance at freedom.

But dark forces, human and otherworldly, work against Laia and Elias. The pair must fight every step of the way to outsmart their enemies: the bloodthirsty Emperor Marcus, the merciless Commandant, the sadistic Warden of Kauf, and, most heartbreaking of all, Helene—Elias’s former friend and the Empire’s newest Blood Shrike.

Bound to Marcus’s will, Helene faces a torturous mission of her own—one that might destroy her: find the traitor Elias Veturius and the Scholar slave who helped him escape…and kill them both. (Taken from Goodreads)

Our Ratings:  

 → Geena:  ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

 → Kae: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️  

Overall: Sabaa Tahir manages to avoid the second book curse with A Torch Against the Night, she picks up where she left off in An Ember in the Ashes (our review). Laia and Elias have escaped Blackcliff, Helene and the rest of the Masks are after them, and Darrin has yet to be saved. Everything that could go wrong DOES go wrong, but then at the same time, we get some wholesome moments in this book and overall we LOVED IT!!!

~ Spoiler-full review below

The Good:

→ Laia

Kae: Laia. Our sweet little angel. She can never do anything wrong ever in life. We love her and we stan. She has broken Elias out of Blackcliff and now they’re on the run! It’s a hot ass mess. She and Elias escape through some catacombs or whatever, and they end up at an old Veturius warehouse where Keris, Elias’ evil ass mother is waiting for them. They battle it out! CLASH SLASH SLASH! Swords and scims are SWANGIN. They knock Keris out, tie her up, and get away. But… Keris done got a little slice in and cut Elias. Now he’s sick, seizing, and passed TF OUT. So while he and Laia are on this journey, taking care of him the whole way through. Things are getting worse and Elias is getting WORSE. So she takes a risk and goes to a sketchy town to find meds for him. The destination to find safety and also rescue her brother, Darrin is going to take a long longer than she anticipated. 

Geena: Kae got the start of the book really well, and like she mentioned we find out the Keris managed to cut Elias with a throwing star (lmao I THINK) which was poisoned. But Elias doesn't let Laia know that he’s been poisoned by a chemical that has no cure and that he’ll just end up slowly and painfully dying 😭 LAIA THO? She thinks of everything she can to help him, like going into a shady town full of mercenaries and killers to find him an antidote that she thinks might work. Does that backfire? Yes. But did she try her best? HELL YES. Laia makes a lot of mistakes in this book, but rather than wallowing in some sort of self-pity she takes shit into her own hands and learns from her screw-ups and I really loved how Sabaa handled her. A lot of people drag Laia down and compare her to Helene, and I think I mentioned this in our last review too that those comparisons aren’t right because: 

Helene is a trained soldier, and she got white feminists antics so please…

Laia literally has had no training but she (with Elias) manage to outsmart Helene and other Masks so like…..

Anyways, I love Laia and I’ll fight ANYONE who talks shit about her. Scratch that, Elias will manifest and beat the shit out of anyone that talks shit about Laia. Like even when she was hanging out with Keenan, Elias was like ‘If it weren’t for my love for Laia I would have murdered your ass’ just because he suspected Keenan of being a snake (and he was right…). But yea, in Book 2 Laia takes command of what happens and starts formulating her own plans along with help from her companions, and she doesn’t let any backfired plans stop her (even when Izzy died 😩). When Elias is captured and imprisoned she plans to break out both him and her brother, and through quick thinking, she and Elias are able to devise a plan which obviously goes to shit but still ends up working out... So Laia haters… how my ass taste?  

→ Ilyaas and the Tribes 

Kae: Geena summed up Laia perfectly! So now we’re going to talk about Ilyaas and the tribes. Elias, as we all know, was abandoned by his mother when he was a baby. She left him in the desert for the tribes people to find instead of just killing him, which she deeply regrets. SO!! Elias is not his birth name. His birth name is Ilyaas, which is the name given to him by the tribes people. They are who Elias considers to be his real family. He has siblings, a mother (Mamie Rila), friends, and more, who he grew up with before he was taken to go to Black Cliff. Here is where Ilyaas feels the most comfortable with himself and his surroundings. He feels his safest when he is with the tribes. He had kept in contact with them his whole life and continued to do so even after being on the run which is why they ended up back with the tribes. They took him in and consider him family and when they met Laia, they instantly loved her. Especially Mamie Rila, who thought she had “GOOD BIRTHING HIPS” LMAOOO SHE WILD FOR THAT ONE. Anyway, when Elias and Laia show up as fugitives, they know they have to hide them. So Mamie Rila and family keep them hidden. When the Martial’s come riding the camp and looking for them, they figure out a distraction. Mamie Rila calls a big meeting during a special ceremony in which she gives a speech. During the speech, she riles everyone up and shit talks to Martials and what they did to Elias and how they are ruining society. This gives the tribal people the motivation to cause a big enough riot for Elias and Laia to book it! Elias runs into Helene during their escape and they meet for the first time in weeks, possibly months. Helene is stunned, but Elias tells her he is sorry and he misses her. After a good fight, Elias gets the best of Helene. She ends up letting them get away. 

Geena: Kae really hit all the points! I really liked how Sabaa mentioned that Elias’ (Martial) grandpa changed his name from the given Ilyaas and anglicized it for Martial society (shoutout to Colonialism ha ha). But Ilyaas and his connection with his family is one of the things that sets him apart from other YA protagonists I’ve noticed, he’s genuinely a good person and it’s because he was raised in such a loving and caring environment and my hort 🥺 In this book he stays on the same trend of always getting into shit bc he’s a good guy, he’s vowed to help Laia break out Darrin but then shit goes down… The poison killing him sends him to the Waiting Place (essentially a purgatory) where he meets the Soul Catcher (Shaeva) who helps him come to terms with the fact he’s dying. Through Ilyaas we also learn about what lead to the creation of the Nightbringer (how the Shaeva helped some Scholars essentially destroy a thriving Jinn community r.i.p.). This is spread throughout the book and really enhances Sabaa’s worldbuilding and we loved it! Also, we can’t forget the rawest lines throughout the whole series which was said in this book:

 “You are my temple. You are my priest. You are my prayer. You are my release.” 

LIKE HELLO?????????????????????????????????????? When Elias realized he only had a month left to live and that he’d move faster without the tribal folk, he leaves Laia and whispers that to her while she’s asleep and SHE DOESN’T EVEN HEAR IT BRO?? Anyways, Elias leaves to bust Darrin out himself but things happen and he ends up imprisoned,  but still manages to get to Darrin and finds out that KEENAN’S BITCHASS ISN’T WHO HE SAYS HE IS. 

Kae: Also when Elias breaks into the prison he’s almost immediately caught by the Warden who experiments on the prisoners. These prisoners are mostly the scholars. So the Warden recognizes Elias from when he has to patrol the prison when he was younger. When the Warden recognizes Elias, he puts him in prison and it begins to torture him. But Elias ain’t no bitch so he handles that shit like a MAN!!! Whenever the Warden is done with Elias he sends in a little Scholar boy to clean him up. The boy continues to clean Elias up and be nice to him and Elias is like “I love this child as if he were my own. I will kill ANYONE who does him HARM and there will be MURDER.” And so like, Elias is a softie and once again, genuinely a good person that is out in bad situations. 

Geena: Elias engaged dad mode in the middle of a torture chamber, imagine what’ll happen if he and Laia ever have children…. 

Kae: Need me a man like Elias ngl asdfghjkl. BUT LIKE. HE’S LIKE “my new son… what is your name?” And the little boy is like “Puhpa.. I have no name*insert sad eyes here*” So Elias names him Tas.  Tas helps him break out of prison with Darrin. But Elias dies as they’re escaping and he goes to the Waiting Place and he makes a deal with Shaeva to take her place so she can move on to the next life, then BOOM. He’s alive again and wakes back up in the prison. 

Tas: Yo wtf wake yo big ass up. I, a six year old, have been carrying you. 

Elias: LMAOOO my bad I was dead. Let’s roll. 

And so they escape with Darrin and Laia and the rest of the Scholars. And Kauf burns down. 

The Bad:

→ Keris

Geena: Keris may not be a good person or a good mother but at least…………………………… I was trying to think of something good to say about her but this bitch really is all trash. Like she finds some sort of sick joy in killing her own son. Like, why let him live after you gave birth to him only to turn around and torture him. Anyways, we find out some interesting tidbits about how she’s in cahoots with the Nightbringer, who seems to be controlling everything she does. And we also find out that she’s planning a coup against Markus, who is the new and shitty emperor, but because the support behind him is weak Keris is like ‘This will be no biggie’. She finds some sort of sick joy in killing scholars, she wakes up and is like “I eat genocide for breakfast,” and I’m like *monkey side eye* bc who in the fuck... Like I don’t know what she was fed growing up but the concentration of hate and bitterness in this woman is too much… we also find out she had Helene’s torturer, Avitas Harper, spying on Helene throughout the whole book. Keris doesn’t just have eyes in the back of her head, she got eyes on every living surface. 

→ Harper

Kae: Harper! I didn’t like him when he was first introduced. I didn’t like the fact that he was beating the shit out of Helene even though I wasn’t exactly a fan of her either but I understood that she had to do what she had to do so she wasn’t a number one on my enemy list just yet. But I hated having to read Harper whoop her ass. I mean, Harper didn’t LIKE doing it. But ya kno… Keris made him do it. Harper started off as a spy for Keris. He was assigned to basically be Helene’s second, so he was to aid her in whatever mission she was sent on , while also reporting everything she did back to Keris. LITTLE DID WE KNOW THO!!! THAT OUR BOY AVITAS HARPER DIDNT FUCK WITH KERIS. He had his own personal motives that we don’t discover in this book. So after awhile he was like “....nah I’m done with that.” So he becomes loyal to Helene. He shows mild displays of not wanting to kill anyone that doesn’t need to be killed (the tribes after they helped Elias escape). He also goes out of his way to make sure Helene eats and gets sleep and has fresh clothes. I think little things like that is how he tries to show his loyalty. He also knows that Helene has a soft spot for Elias and that she doesn’t really want to hurt him. We learned that he has a soft heart and is a pretty cool dude. He really just wants to help Helene in any way that he can. He worries for her. 

Geena: Harper has always been a shady character for me, like I didn’t expect Sabaa to turn Helene’s torturer into her love interest… WHEN I TELL U I SCREAMED at all their moments I was LIKE WAT IS THIS but I sat back because I was like imma trust Sabaa. But it was interesting to read Harper be like “Yea, I’m a snake and?” and Helene just accepting it like “This is my life I guess”. But Harper wanting to emulate Elias and being like “Maybe I too will attempt to be a good human being now”... a very interesting development… Also, Im curious to see how Harper (and by extension, Helene’s) stories end… will Sabaa give the soldiers of the state a happy ending… DO they deserve a happy ending 🤔 Will they make up for their war crimes in the series finale? Find out next time on Dragon Ball Z.

Kae: ALSO THO. WHEN HELENE TELLS HARPER HE’S A SNAKE, HARPER IS LIKE “Yeah and Snakes survive soooo…”

→ Markus

Kae: So now we have skankass Markus. Markus used to have a twin brother named Zacharias. Markus killed  Zacharias in the first book during the trials and now his twin brother haunts him and whispers in his ear. People claim that Markus talks to himself when it’s really him trying to get his brother out of his head. After the trials, Markus became Emperor. He is a tyrant and is killing whoever gets in his way. Markus is doing everything in his power to stay relevant because he is a very unliked by literally everyone in this society. He is a Plebeian and that is one of the lower ranking caste in this world. The Martials don’t like that someone of a lower rank is in charge of all of them so they want him off of the throne.  He also has a lust/hate thing for Helene and tries to belittle and make her uncomfortable as much as possible. He also absolutely hates Elias and has ordered Helene to kill him. Markus ALSO arranged to marry Helene’s sister, Hannah.  Hannah is kind of a bitch so she’s down with the shits to get back at Helene. Why she hates Helene? I seriously don’t know.  In the end, Markus is like “So you didn’t kill Elias? *evil laughter*  Well, since I can’t kill YOU, Helene, I’ll kill your family” so he slices the neck of Helene‘s parents and his fiancé, Hannah. He leaves Livia (Livvy) alive and married her instead. Ngl, that part made me so sad I got tears in my eyes. That was so fucked up dude. That’s when I KNEW Sabaa didn’t fuck around. I’m convinced she wants no survivors in the end lmaopleasedontdothatSabaa. 

Geena: Oh yea like Markus is nasty as Kae outlined, he could’ve been Keris. But unlike Keris, Markus is a dispshit with no braincells (bc they died with his brother). He’s a disgusting human being who assaulted Laia back in book one and has been implied to have done that to other scholar slaves 🤢 AND LIKE …….. HELENE KNEW THIS……. AND SHE KNEW HER SISTER WAS TOO GOOD FOR HIM…. So, imagine her horror when her favourite sister is forced to marry him….. I guess he was “smart” for marrying her favourite sister and realizing that was the only way to control Helene to get her to do what he wanted. bUt das it.  

The Ugly:  

→ Keenan’s Fugly Ass. Bitchass. Manipulating ass. 

Geena: Do you know…. Do you know how much denial I was in??? All through book 1 and majority of book 2, I was like FUCK KEENAN but seeing how Laia was into him I was like *angry pingu meme* LIke FINE FINE, I’ll like him because Laia likes him and I just want him to be happy. SO, I ACCEPTED THAT KEENAN AND LAIA WAS THE IT COUPLE… And like did I skim over the part where they got nasty? Kinda. But i was like okay fine, Laia loves him and he’s helping her. But then the big reveal…. THIS MANS WAS PLAYING HER THE WHOLE TIME??? HE WAS NEVER KEENAN, THE SCHOLAR REBEL, THIS HOE WAS THE NIGHTBRINGER THE WHOLE TIME??????? He’d played Laia into developing feelings for him, JUST SO that he could take the armlet that he mother had given her. Which, we find out, is an important part of some weapon that the Nightbringer needs to bring about the apocalypse or some shit. And, he can only take the weapon if it’s given out of love. This implies he was in love with Laia too, but I’d fight that bitch like hOW DARE YOU????

Kae:  You skipped the nasty scene!? LMAOOO I WAS SHOOK BUT ALSO MAD BUT ALSO LIKE OKAY WHATEVER. I WAS A HARDCORE LAIA X ELIAS SHIPPER FROM THE START! But like, same. I was like “If Laia is happy with Keenan, then I’ll be happy too.” But maaaaann… 

Geena: I WANTED TO GIVE KEENAN BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT OKAY, AND LIKE SABAA really subverted my expectations because usually in YA only the true love interests end up getting nasty so I was like… I guess this is it! But she was like “SIKE!!! YOU THOUGHT!!!” Anyways, I still don’t think this series should be YA but whatever...

Kae: GORL I WAS SEETHING WITH HATRED!!!!!!! AT THAT REVEAL!! I WAS SO FUCKING MAD. I COULDN'T BELIEVE IT!! I LITERALLY HATE HIM. Def shouldn’t be YA. But, here we areeee! 

Kae: I just wanted to say that I hate Keenan/ The Nightbringer with a BURNING PASSION. I hate when guys trick women into trusting them so that they can sleep with them and get what they want. That pisses me off to the highest degree I think it is a scumbag move and he is just a dirty little fucker and I can’t stand him. There is nothing that can  represent all of the hatred that I have for Keenan. I absolutely loathe him/The Nightbringer. I hope he suffers. 

Geena: Fuck dude, that’s so valid. 

Conclusion

Kae: In conclusion, the Nightbringer is a bitch and I HATE HIM. 

Geena: SAME! We hate the Nightbringer as much as we love Laia and Elias so there’s that. Sabaa really shows out with the characters she’s crafted from An Ember in the Ashes, takes a baseball bat, and starts beating the shit out of our emotions and her characters at the same time. ANYWAYS, please read this series!

[hecohansen31]

Not Of Age: (Duncan Shepherd+Reader)

A/N: Hello there, lovelies!

How was everything?

I am a bit stressed out for various thing, but also… you know what would help a lot? FEEDBACK (please if you have a minute of your time spare it to either heart this fic, comment on it, or reblog it, only if you liked it, obviously) (+you are always welcome to tell me what went wrong, what went right, in either my messages or in my asks, I am always happy to get one so…).

Also this is all inspired to something that happened to me (no I sadly don’t know any Duncan Shepherds in real life), since I get a lot mistaked for younger than I actually am (and I know it might sound strange but it is something I am insecure about, because people don’t take you seriously).

(Plus: one of my photos of the collage is actually mine, because I am wearing the dress, I described in the fic, so you can see it better+I don’t know I love the way that dress is one me…so) (Also i censored my face, because I was without make-up+I was wearing a very obnoxious flower crown).

Plus, before this gets controversial, Duncan in this fic is not interested into Reader because she is younger and might not seem of age, but he is more attracted to her “potrayal of youth”.

As always… I talk too much so I shall leave you to appreciating the fanfiction (let me know if you want a sequel because I mgiht be working on something right now!).

SUMMARY: You don’t show your age, and this got you in so much troubles, such as the one you got into after an unexpected visit on a Saturday’s morning, in an extra meeting with Duncan Shepherd

WORDS: 2,3 K.

WARNINGS: Just Duncan being flirty, and mostly kissing (no smut), also Older! Man in a relationship with a younger girl!

She had always been the girl, who looked much younger than her true age .

Both for her terrible childish manners (not only she still had the that naivety which was only seen in children, but also a brattish character that sometimes got her in trouble, mostly in relationships) both for the fact that her appearance was juvenile and much more belonging to a teen than an actually woman, who was 25 years old, which prompted many awkward and weird situations.

Such as the typical bar patron who asked her ID after she ordered alcohol, alongside a few of her partners on internet picking her up just because she looked much younger or mumbling something as “are you legal?”, when they saw her.

And although many people thought that it was an advantage, it was something she personally found annoying, mostly when people reminded her of it as it meant she was somehow shallow and not worthy of being taken seriously.

Many of her friends had also by now a kid on the way and were already married (although some settled for the first one that came through the window and it showed), so being the only single friend, not only sucked, but meant that apparently she was less trust worthy than a pregnant woman, alongside the fact that she didn’t seem to belong at all whenever a wedding was mentioned or a baby shower, and she just stared at the wall till they all giggled together, joining her friends there.

That day she seemed young not only because she wasn’t wearing her usual heavy make-up, which helped a lot with making her feel not only more confident but also a few years older, but she was dressed in a pretty sundress she had wanted to wear to the typical brunch her friends had on the first day of summer, setting themselves in a park in order to talk a bit.

The sundress was a perfect solution for the warm weather which coated her body in the form of sweat; but also she honestly loved the way the dress fit on her body, giving her a pretty hourglass figure, with its 50’s style..

She had bought the dress something like ten years ago, it had been her first dress ever, and although it was a bit ruined by the excessive washing she still felt comforted by wearing it and it still looked pretty amazing: its organza skirt bore a flowery pattern, her favorite!

She hadn’t worn make-up, stopped by the terrible hotness of the day, choosing to hide herself from the eyes of her friends and the sun with sunglasses and a straw hat, brought back from a very old journey, but which gave her a “Heiress on Vacation” kind of look.

The last touch of the look would have been sandals, but she had to go for sneaker since her boss called her at work for an emergency reunion, ruining her entire day of the brunch.

She hadn’t had enough time to change into something more “work appropriate” so she had just to go with her sundress and sneakers, hoping nobody would notice the terrible match.

The hat had been gently discarded to the secretary, meanwhile she “helloed” her and her boss made her a sign to move onto her office quickly, where she plumped down on her turning chair and checked into a mirror the state of her hair, after she had walked (more like ran) to work, sweating like a pig, (to hide it, she applied a generous amount of the extra-deodorant she had in her office for emergency such as this one).

She knew nothing about what she was supposed to be expecting.

Her boss had just mumbled something about “a very important client cancelling a meeting and asking for another on Saturday morning” when she wasn’t supposed to be working, but her boss had asked for a favor, alongside a promise of an extra on her paycheck to take the job.

“It will only last an hour maximum, I just need you to make him sign the documents and nobody is answering me…” because the offices were supposed to be closed on Saturday, and knowing this no clients were allowed in the building on Saturday…. alongside the fact that many people at 8 A.M. of Saturday were still sleeping with their phones off, meanwhile she had had to wake up, since not only she had had to get ready but the park for the brunch was two hours away from her.

“Ok… I will take it, but please… sign it as extra-work” she had mumbled, before sending her friends a message on how she would be sadly missing at least the first part of the brunch and to leave her something to eat, since she would come an hour later than she had programmed.

And maybe even more…

Because after what seemed like half an hour after the appointment had been set, she stilll saw nobody and she had even tried to ask the secretary (also extraordinarily there) if she had known something about the “mysterious man”, just to get a shake of head and a whisper on how much she hated that job (on which she agreed).

She was halfway through painting her nails, the one she had accidentally scratched on her way to the job, when she heard a knock on her door, surprising her enough that she almost painted her dress of the same teal color of her nail polish.

She mumbled a “please enter”, meanwhile she meticulously hid the nail polish’s bottle and breathed hot air on her nails to get them to dry quicker, not wanting to leave signs on the poor man’s hand.

And meanwhile she did all this, a man walked in her office, a very handsome and known man, whom she knew because of all the “Vanity Fair” ’s covers her boss had in her office, practically worshipping the self-made man, Duncan Shepherd had become after his exit from jail.

And not only did he look better in reality than on magazine cover, but he looked at her with two of the prettiest eyes she had even seen, preying on her as if she was some kind of water in a sandy desert.

She felt immediately the bush rising to her face, regretting not having taken a jacket with her, leaving her cleavage exposed since the dress had a deep “v” neck, which prompted a lot of skin to be shown and although it was pretty breathy for the summer, it didn’t mean that it was appropriate for the workplace.

Although to be stared like that by such a powerful man…

It wasn’t the “I want to make you feel like a piece of meat” stare so many frat boys gave her, but it was the “I will have you on your desk in five minutes, if you are interested”.

-Ehm… I think I have the wrong office, I was looking for Mrs (L/N)- he mumbled, thinking her to be the wrong person, but she just mumbled a shy “you are in the right place”.

-… I am Mrs (L/N), but you may call me (Y/N)- you knew it was highly unprofessional to share your name with a client, mostly somebody who was here just to sign but you tried to make it all seem a bit more relaxed, more for yourself than for him, who would look at ease even in a Nordic climate -I am sorry for my inappropriate state, this meeting was scheduled at last minute and I was on my way to a friendly brunch-.

-I am extremely sorry for the meeting at this hour and day, but I had a problem with the scheduled appointment, and I wouldn’t be back in America till a month… so…-.

-Don’t worry, Mr Shepherd, I am more than happy to make an exception for you- she didn’t mean to make it sound so flirty, mostly because she wasn’t used to try her luck with guys like him, not to talk about the fact that her childish naivety scared away boys, but this one, stayed, interested, staring at her.

-Well thank you very much, then- he mumbled, matching her flirty tone, meanwhile coming nearer, where she showed him the chair, raising up and showing a bit of her legs, which made him lower his gaze on them, and she faked not noticing although she raised a bit on her toes to show much more -… give me a pen and I will be out of your hair soon-.

He smiled brightly at her sudden goofy attempt to grab a pen, just to grasp simply air, making an awkward figure, to which he giggled, till she offered the pen, and moved the contract for their agency in his hands, meanwhile their hands bumped just a bit together, electricity shooting through her veins.

She even lowered herself a bit, the cleavage appearing more evident and he caught it with his eyes as they lowered upon the papers, meanwhile she simply dropped on her elbows and her ass shot up, which got her in a very explicit position.

He read the papers, or at least appeared to be reading those chewing the pen, before setting it down and smile at her as he caught her looking at him, nibbling her bottom lip.

-I didn’t think that you were Mrs (L/N) because you seem so much younger- he mumbled, taking time, clearly, meanwhile she settled swiftly back a bit, embarrassed by how freely she had acted with him, although he had given her clear indications he was into her and was trying his best to flirt her up.

But he was still a client till he walked outside the door.

-Oh, believe me but a lot of people think the same- she giggled, trying to breathe out her embarrassment.

-… it isn’t a bad thing- he mumbled, meanwhile looking at her and smiling at her flushed cheeks -… I wish I looked younger! People nowadays ask me if I need glasses to see-.

She laughed heartedly, meanwhile he looked at her through his lashes as if to say he was serious.

-You look amazing, Mr Shepherd- this got him to puff his chest even further almost as a proud bird, which got a genuine smile from her -… and I mean it is nice to know you can somehow age slower, but also… a lot of people tend not to take you seriously if you don’t look mature enough, plus, guys are not interested into younglings…-.

This got her a shocked look from him, which changed swiftly in an outraged look.

-… boys tend to have that kind of thoughts- he mumbled, shooting her a serious glance, that went through her entire body -…men don’t-.

And he was a man, probably ten years her senior, although she had heard he was much older than what he seemed with a pendant for a new girl on his arm each week, much younger than him, so she knew what was going on, although she was not his usual supermodel.

-Thank you, I will set my mind onto dating only men from now on- she mumbled, shyly, before tapping at the paper, to remind him what was going on, shooting him a knowing look; she couldn’t because of so many reasons, although she wanted.

-You are very welcome- he muttered, before setting a last glance on her body and swiftly signing the paper -Then is it done? -.

-It is- she replied, moving to accompany him to the door, as a way to let him even further know that she sadly couldn’t.

-Then we are not a client and a professional, right? – he asked.

And with her typical childish naivety, not fully understanding his motives she answered.

-… yes-.

And he swiftly closed the door, behind them, before pulling her against the door with a sudden roughness she found herself liking, and left her legs trembling, before diving on her lips, with his, with much more gentleness than the push against the door, a bit dipping her as they did in the movies.

He was far gentler than what he had promised her with the “door movement”, getting her wondering what would come next… a kiss or a slap…

But he was careful with her now, probably after the yelp of pain he got from having pushed her back against the hard wood, before pushing her towards another kind of “hard wood”, much more human.

And this got a moan of pleasure transferred from her mouth to his, opening herself to his tongue and a languid caress from it, before it moved back to trace, as if to know them by heart, her lips.

When he separated himself from her, much more due to the lack of air than because he wanted to, he still kept her against him.

Her sundress had risen up a bit, and now her thighs were even more exposed, meanwhile her cleavage was widened up by the rushed tries and friction of her dress against his crisp elegant shirt, rigorously back, whereas hers was beige, matching their respective personalities.

He moved his eyes from the ground to her face, just to cup it and keeping the stare till their lips were near each other and then he closed them, as she did, but nothing but dry air went through them and when she opened them he had disappeared, which left her to wonder whether or not something had happened, till she saw the signed paper and felt the little ticket hidden in the cleavage of her dress, with an address from an hotel in Italy written on it and a number on the other side.

She wondered about what it meant, why her and how he managed to slip it in her dress without knowing why…

But now apparently she had a way to find it all out.

[qhostqizmo]

Temptation

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

- - - - - - - - - -

She couldn’t fight it. It stirred in her dreams like a plume of smoke; dark clouds hazing over everything  and blotting out the interior of the residence she had been in. One second there had been cool stone and carpeting beneath her feet, with pillars to uphold the structure and doors that she knew lead to a garden, and the next she had been thrust in no-where. There was vertigo; no up or down, no east or west, no sense of direction and nothing below or above. Only gloom, and herself.

It had only been herself. As she tossed and turned; twisted and grasped at the nothing trying to get a grip on something, a figure began to materialize through the endless shadows. They were no taller then she, and their build slender. A hood obstructed their face, but they wore a brightly colored red lip stain against their grey freckled skin. A light haloed around them, but it was neither blinding nor particularly bright.

“What is it you desire?”

It was an echo; and although they moved their mouth, the words felt like they were vibrating all around Essätha; through her, inside of her. She clenched her teeth in hopes of stopping the rattle in her teeth, and clutched at her temples.

Her mind was instantly a playground; brutalized and vandalized. This had been nothing like Master Sadris Vodamire; who although caused much discomfort with his prying eyes, tore into her head like a rampant monster. It was like filthy hands groping; touching where they did not belong, taking without asking.

It searched, and as the violating sensation made Essie whimper and claw at her scalp, she observed glimpses of things and places, money and faces, people and animals.

“I could offer you a promise” the voice promised, velvety and sweet as any seductive mistress. “I can give you what you want most. In exchange, all I ask of you is to relinquish one small thing. That which is mine already, that you and your friends have in your possession.”

She didn’t have anything that didn’t belong to anyone else! Okay… that was not entirely true, but none of it belonged to anyone else for a while now.

Softly, the speaker compelled, “You must leave it beneath the roots of a Devil’s Roosewood tree. There I will find it.”

A beaded necklace appeared unwillingly to the forefront of her thoughts. Its pearl-like spheres were made of a pinkish-purple tinted wood. An amulet hung from it, presumably meant to be displayed upon the throat so far as jewelry went. It was made of an ambery-red metal no one recognized in the party; and was embezzled with gemstones. Adela recognized a few of them as decorative precious jewels, but others even alluded them.

What did the abandoned pendent they found lying in a creekbed have to do with any of this?

“That is none of your concern.”

Essätha struggled to open her eyes at the testiness of the voice to stare the individual down, but she no longer could. She could not will them to open, and the rampant path of strange and random photographic memories she didn’t even remember continued to invade her like a hurricane.

“Do you hunger for money? Mountains of it; as far as the eye could see?” the voice teased, offering visions of plentiful piles of coin and jewels, stacks of monetary notes and wages.

“Perhaps a lust for freedom?” A strange parallel; worlds and planes stacked on top of each other, easy to access at the touch of a finger.

“Or strength?” Tools and weapons; rings and tomes. “Glory?” Dozens upon dozens of people, crying out her name in the crowd, their faces written in expressions of awe and adoration. “A paradise to call your own?” A castle, expansive and fortified; surrounded by wildlife and trees, with the lapping sound water somewhere past the treeline.

“No?” chimed the voice; not waiting for an answer, but sounding… disappointed. “Immortality? To be human? No, not that, either. My, you are a tricky one. So complacent in your mundane life. You want things, but what are you hiding; what do you want more… what does your heart long for the most…”

Essie did not know if it was her own impulses, or the endless pursuit of answers that brought up the lonely figure, with their face turned only slightly towards her and the massive furry beast at their heels.

“Oho. What an interesting surprise. I thought different of you. Not many crave love as badly as they think they do; people tend to lean more selfishly to power and fortune then they believe themselves capable. But you crave that acceptance; that warm embrace, that spark that fills the empty, lonely voids inside your soul. You believe one man can make you that happy?”

The question was taunting; mocking her more then inquiring. It didn’t need an answer. No amount of true and honest love could ever fix all your mistakes, or unbreak you, or change you completely into someone new, or even lick all your wounds and make you perfect or change the world.

But it could change your world. Soften your negative outlooks; have a genuine conversation with someone, have someone reliable to lean on that could lean on you, too. It was intimate trust; going the extra mile, selflessly offering all that you had expecting nothing in return. Being vulnerable to another and knowing they would do everything in their power not to hurt you; that they would try to catch you when you fell, and pick you up when it can’t be helped. A bond of acceptance, of respect, of teamwork.

Loving Amon was worth more then all the bounties and rewards they could be offered. It was freedom; as open as the sky was vast. It was the strength she found inside every day. It was the fame of those moments when he stopped and stared at her, and so quietly said her name that she felt like the only person in the room. It was his arms around her; feeling of home and protective shield from every wounded word she’d ever heard. It rendered the idea of immortality obsolete. She felt eternal under the blanket of his heavy-lidded eyes.

Like a leech to blood, the figure offered a Cheshire grin Essie could not see. She had found her jackpot; her vulnerable weak spot to strike.

“Yours is not the easiest, but not the most difficult wish to achieve,” the lady hummed. “I can give you his heart. He can be yours, until your dying day.”

A fantasy played out beneath her eyelids, but it was one she’d had before. The table, their interwoven fingers, the sound of his faint chuckling and the soft impression of his mouth against her, wherever his lips could reach. Her throat, her cheeks, her lips so light and warm. She was almost dizzy, imagining it; the breathlessness from such a lingering kiss.

But then he pulled away, and the vision was not totally how she recalled it. The almost mechanical shape of his smile, like it did not belong there; painted on crudely, rather. The vacancy of his eyes.

Her hand went to her throat. She grasped at something hanging there, finding a heart-shaped locket hanging around her neck. Clicking it open, she could make out the strangely pulsating, beating shape within it as she squinted…

She did not want that. Her thoughts cringed, warding the nightmare away.

That was not her Lord Amon, and that was not the kind of love she desired.

“Is this not what you want?” the voice implied with a snappy tone, “is this man not the one you yearn for?”

Not like this. Never like this. He was not her m’lord; he was her puppet.

“Think of it,” the voice pressed, almost endearing. Shaming her almost, it cut the fantasy in two; blurring it out to reveal the dreaded future she feared. The solitary, winding roads. The isolated bedroom. The restless nights, tossing and turning. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to be. Nothing to do. No one to put faith in; to put faith in her, to push her forward. Alone, again.

She sucked in a shaky gasp, choking. It felt like first breath she’d taken in minutes, and she was choking.

The lipstick curled up into a twisted smile as Essätha found herself able to open her eyes, the dream melting and fading all around her…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Spine stiff and rigid, Sulhadur leaned forward, running his tongue over his muzzle. “… What did she offer you guys?”

Everyone avoided each other’s gazes. Penimra shifted uncomfortably, breaking the silence with a ragged cough, “Everything.”

“I did not know I even wanted some of the things they offered,” Pri’cha agreed, their expression mystified and mandibles parted.

“I had never seen the Drow before,” Adela whispered, leaning in to the table. “I think she was a Drow, anyway? Did any of you get a good look at her?”

“No, her hood was always up,” Rava stated.

Abe nodded. “Same for me.”

Essie kept her head down, and her mouth shut. Silence was safer.

“Well we can’t give her back the necklace; obviously it has some sort of value, and to a demigod of that sort of power…” Abe trailed off weakly.

Conflicted, Penimra offered out his trembling gloved hand. “Can’t we, though? We don’t know what it can do. It’s not our responsibility. Maybe she will reward all of us, if we put it back-”

“Penimra, that sort of trust is what got you cursed in the first place,” Adela commented tartly. She immediately seemed to realize her commentary, and slapped a hand over her open mouth as the warlock recoiled as though from a physical blow.

“Pen, I’m so sor-”

“Don’t.”

“I mean, she did make some good offers,” the cheeky wood-elf piped up, staring fixated at the necklace sitting in the middle of the round table. Her hand twitched, as though to reach for it.

The eldest paladin give her a firm but swift tap on the hand, glowering at her until she sat back, pouting.

“This isn’t up for debate!”

“You’re right, Pri’cha found it. They should get to decide what we do with it,” Pen eagerly stated, looking hopefully to the golden cleric.

“M-Me?”

“… We can’ trust them,” Sulhadur muttered, scratching his claws against his snout.

“This coming from the dragonborn who wanders randomly off into the woods, trusting the melody of some random desert music,” Penimra muttered with annoyance.

With vigor, the nobleman slammed down his fist. The action silence the entire table; turning towards the man with his clenched teeth bared like an animal.

“Stop arguing, all of you!” Amon grated out.

The exchange of glances across the table made the Briarton Protector deflate. Fear lit his eyes, and it took everything Essie had not to reach out and touch him, or take hold of his hand. As quickly as the rage had filled him, it seemed to disperse, but it left it’s lingering effects. The guilt in his shoulders; heavy. The stares that haunted him, past and present.

“… Before we make any rash decisions,” he continued on hoarsely, “like handing off this- this necklace that may have some potent abilities we’re not aware of, we need to know who this is, what this does, and why they want it so badly. Deities, or powerful beings, do not usually reach out to request things from mortals or their lessers. If it’s a test, I do not see why they would have a reason to act so…”

“Shifty?”

“A kinder way of putting it… yes,” he agreed, nodding solemnly to Abernathy’s words.

Nervously licking her lips, Ravamora eyed the amulet. “What do we do with it, for now?” she squeaked. “Who can be trusted to hold on to it?”

A few looks around the table, and most pairs of eyes settled on the Thri-Kreen, their curled antenna shooting up.

“M-Me?”

“You did find the pendent, Pri,” Essie whispered faintly.

“And you’re the one least likely to be swayed… Probably,” Sul pointed out.

Steadily looking around the group, the cleric clutched their claws together into little fists. They raised them up high and proud, announcing with vigor, “I will not let you all down!”

The Yuan-Ti sorceress glanced vaguely towards the amulet. For half-a-second, her clouded thoughts believed to see the disturbing locked, with the beating shrunken heart trapped inside it.

Swallowing, she looked down at the table.

Whatever the cost, it wasn’t worth it. Losing his very personality; the essence of who he was just for her to call him hers, it wasn’t worth the price. There was no value to be placed on who he was; as a man, and a friend, and a trusted companion.

If this is all there ever was, until they parted ways, so be it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Rolling her denim pants up to fit within her bag, Essie could hear the heavy pacing of Amon’s boots, and the elevated sound of his breathing. She tried not to point it out, but Caesar seemed to be doing a fine enough job of that as it was. The mastiff trotted after him; claws clicking against the wood floors, and whined every chance he got up towards his master.

Tucking in a carefully folded shirt, she finally spoke up quietly, “Is everything alright, m’lord Amon?”

He grunted. She turned to glance at him, catching him wiping a hand over his face. His eyes were wild, and black hair mused from his fingers running through it previously.

“Fine.”

A frown pulled at her lips. She knew him better then that.

“Is… this about what occurred at the table?” she offered, cautious.

The nobleman turned to look at her, dazed. There was little focus in his eyes.

Scooting around on the bed, she placed her hands in her lap, remaining cross-legged. Essie offered a private smile, tilting her head to the side as she whispered patiently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

His throat jumped, and he looked away. “I… uh…”

Gently, she patted the bed. He obediently obeyed the implication, taking a seat on the opposite side stiffly. It reminded her so much of the images from last night, that she had to hold herself back from flinching away from him.

“It’s okay you got frustrated,” she soothed softly, reaching out to lay her hand atop his. “No one’s going to hold that against you. We’re all a bit… wound up. It’s a hard decision to make, when someone offers you your deepest desires right in front of you on a platter.”

His gaze was too intense, staring right into her. She felt her heartbeat quicken, and her palms start to grow sweaty. The ocean reeling her in; pulling her into the depths.

Again, he swallowed; his jaw working and shifting uneasily. Caesar, meanwhile, nosed his knee and whined; to which he didn’t respond to.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper,” he finally uttered quietly. She beamed with encouragement, wrapping her fingers around his hand. “I forgive you. You’re allowed to feel your emotions, m’lord. I know you had no intentions on hurting anyone’s feelings. You’re understandably frustrated. I think nothing less of you. Maybe… we all needed a voice of reason to cut through the haze in that moment, anyway.”

Amon smiled thin, and with doubt.

Essätha did not move for some time. When he did not reply, she nervously began to remove her hand from him.

He instinctively reached for her; a flash of pain in his expression.

“I- I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be,” he breathed. Relief bloomed in his eyes, still locked on hers, as he held her fingers in his now. Almost regrettably, he regarded their hands, and gently placed hers back down upon the bed.

“I’m sorry I should… I should not make you feel like you have to comfort me.”

Her brow knit, and she reached for his hand. “Have to?” she echoed, “I don’t feel like I have to. I don’t have to do anything; but I like to. I like to hold your hand, and I like to make you smile.”

Together, their faces simultaneously took on a rosy glow. Amon looked away nervously just as she did. The eye contact was suddenly too much.

The inquiry nagging at the back of her head, however, continued to pester her…

“M’lord,” she murmured, clutching his digits anxiously. “I…” She swallowed, acutely aware that his gaze was back on her again; burning her. Her face felt hotter. The room felt deathly quiet, and she found it difficult to breathe. The only sound her ears picked up on aside from her heartbeat, was that of Caesar’s tail thumping eagerly against the floor, staring at them both.

“Are you alright, Essie?”

Gods, she hated how she adored the way he said her name. The way he spoke to her; concerned and tender and patient, made her insides feel like they were twisted into pretzels.

Sighing, she shook her head weakly. “No I…” She nibbled her lower lip; exhaled deeply, and tried again: “I thought I knew what I wanted most of all in my life, once. Like Penimra said; she offered me everything; the world at my fingertips, to bend and morph however I pleased, to be whoever or whatever I pleased… She said I could have had anything; given me my deepest desires…”

Her eyes drifted, slowly making their way to where their hands were on the comforter; clutching each other.

“… But all I really wanted was this moment.”

“… This moment?” Amon parroted softly. When she did not reply, he squeezed her fingers gently. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry I-” flustered, she caught a glimpse of his face; vulnerable, soft, longing, and glanced away timidly, waving her free hand in the air. “I just- I mean- I only wanted your time,” she stressed, “I- I just wanted- want to s-spend my time with you to- to have your company-”

Fidgeting, she pulled at her hand, but Amon held her strong, but gentle. He waited for her eyes to find their way back to his.

“… You don’t think I want the same thing?” he whispered, grinning shyly. “I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”

Essätha returned the smile, her pulse escalating. All she craved for, all she wanted to do right now was to throw herself into his arms. The block between her mouth and her heart was her brain, carelessly telling her that telling him the truth would be too much.

She promised me you, she wanted to scream. The enchantress witchy deity being offered me your heart, and your love. I know you’ll think I’m insane, but gods, I want to love you and be loved by you more then anything else in the world.

But not like that. Not that perverse, demented and warped reality.

The genuine warmth of his eyes, and the smile he wore now, that was her wanting.

“I wish she’d been right, about one thing.”

The hurt expression returned. “Right about what?”

If it could only be possible to capture his heart, in the right way. Slowly, with time, and with a lot of love.  If only she could just be a little be braver, to tell him openly, how she felt.

“Oh just- about having more manageable desires,” Essie fretted with a short laugh. “Something attainable, within my reach.”

Between a mixture of confusion and amusement, the nobleman rasped playfully, “I thought you just said that all you really wanted was this moment.”

“It is! I do!” she burst out enthusiastically, holding his hand tightly, as though reluctant he’d pull away.

The same, brilliant smile; warm and enlightening. He leaned in closer unconsciously, closer towards her. The scent of pine trees and leather surrounded her, with a faded note of rosewater. Her eyes, unconsciously, darted all over him; to his chest, his mouth, back up to his all-consuming gaze.

She was the center of the universe once more, beneath his softly aglow night-sky regard.

“Me too,” Amon whispered, as though telling a secret.

She grinned brighter, feeling the butterfly-sensation swarming in her stomach.

Gradually, his gaze lowered; moving over her features, stalling. His eyes lingered a moment on her parted lips before jumping back to her eyes. They’d moved in closer, unintentionally, drawn in by gravity.

His voice trembled as he inclined closer still, murmuring, “You are far more beautiful here, right in front of me, then in any mirage hallucination she showed.”

Breath hitching, her lashes fluttered, waiting for the magnetic pull to drag him the rest of the way. She leaned in a little further as he did, her free hand reaching for him.

A knock at the door sent them hurtling backwards away from each other, mere inches away from contact.

Her heart was still thunder in her ears, muffling Sulhadur’s voice as he called out, “Everyone’s packed and outside; do the two of you need a hand still?”

“No- ahem, no, we’ll be out shortly!”

“I’ll carry some of your things for you.”

Cheeks burning, she glanced at Amon after hearing the break in his voice. He was looking to his faithful pooch, who huffed and laid their head upon his knee.

Had… had he just admitted to seeing her, in some of those fantasy-visions from the strange dream intruder?

Letting go of her hand, the nobleman silently pushed himself to his feet, heading towards the door with the mastiff trotting at his heels.

Essie pressed her fingers over her flush features, and her mouth. It was almost-had-been-too-close but was it really what she’d thought it had been? The moment charged with electricity, the softness of his eyes. Surely they hadn’t been that close. Maybe he’d been distracted by something, or had meant to… brush hair out of her face?

Removing her hand, she tried not to pout; or directly allow the Dragonborn paladin to see just how deeply blushing she still was as he entered.

There was absolutely, positively no way on earth his deepest desire could possibly be of her, too.

Right?

[mariamermaid]

Like Lovers Do

Summary: He might have been a god, but you were a titan rising from hell and still, you fell so dearly for him, it was destined to fail, wasn´t it?

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: drinking, implied smut, kinda dark

A/N: I highly recommend listening to the song “Like Lovers do” by Hey Violet while reading. I didn´t have yet time to check for spelling mistakes so it might slightly change within the next days!

Halloween Imagines Masterlist

She stepped through the echoing hall like it already belonged to her. She was born for this, this simple but so crucial moment. In a matter of seconds that elapsed like waves crashing against the sore cliffs. Her perfectly curled hair, her sweet smile and the charm in her eyes. The tailored dress made for her body, fitted like second skin. Her natural glow illuminating the room and of course, all eyes were on her.

But then there was you.

The sister. Everything she had like it was her inherent right, you had to fight for. She was the golden star, but you were the storm crawling through the night sky, letting stars fall like hail. She could bring flowers to bloom, but under your feet the earth shook and bowed, afraid of your presence. You were two foreign princesses from a galaxy far away and your recently deceased mother, mentioned her last wish on her death bed. She hoped that one of you would marry a prince to help your realm. Obviously, she didn´t say a name, but with the last breath she took, it was clear who she had meant. You sister, Lakira, immediately took it upon herself to search for suitable contenders and when she heard about the god of thunder, it was impossible to stop her. Your father, who fulfilled each wish she had, agreed to the visit in Asgard. They would soon realize their mistake…

 Not all eyes were on her, on particularly blue-greenish pair, remained on you. You immediately caught his sight and a devilish smirk played on your blood red lips.  

I see you watching me, eyes on your target Mix drinks and smoke rings, it's already started It won't be too long before me and you Are doing what lovers do You were wearing a black, simple dress, your hair open. The simple touch of a red lipstick flattering your dark aura. And he couldn´t take his eyes of you, the sweet smell of danger of pulling him in. He wore a green suit with golden details, Loki, Prince of Asgard, Odinson, the rightful King of Jotunheim, God of Mischief. He could feel the vibrations from your powerful figure and he didn´t mistake them as your sisters. He could sense that there was more lingering under your skin that appeared to be such a sober shroud. And while the kingdoms greeted each other with fine chosen words and compliments, you two started to play a game, either way losing like lover do.

“It is an honor to greet you here, when you have such a long journey behind you, King.” Odin greeted your father and they shook hands. Your father, a good head smaller than the king and his two sons, offered him a noble smile. The god of thunder gawked at Lakira, but besides her beauty, there was nothing about her that attracted him to her. A pretty face to hide a shallow character. You often reminded yourself that it wasn´t her fault, she was born like that. And at certain, scarce moments, when you two were completely alone, you could see behind her smile. And when you two shared the intimate and sacred times of being just simple sisters, you loved her so dearly, it broke your heart. But you could also see that for Thor´s heart another woman already had the key, which made this whole occasion miserable to watch.

The dinner began and while almost everybody lightly chatted with each other, you and Loki constantly locked eyes. Yet, he couldn´t fully figure out where your thoughts wandered when behind your eyes appeared the darkness of a galaxy. But the tension kept going until the desert was served. You both sat across each other, just like Lakira and Thor. The skill of disappearing in invisible shadows so that everybody forgot about your presence, was a simple skill you had perfected over the years. And now the shadows cloaked the God of Mischief as well. The desert, a typical Asgardian mousse  with sweet fruits was neatly placed in front of you, but after your first bites of the sweet taste, you laid your golden spoon back on the table. The mood was lightening and the talks began to get louder. “Excuse, I´m going to the bathroom, I´ll be back in just a second.” You explained bitter sweetly, even though only Loki heard your voice. He watched you leave and his eyes couldn´t resist wandering down your curved body, wondering how your skin felt without the silk hiding it´s beauty. After two more passing minutes, in which neither Thor nor anyone else of the present guests realized your missing, Loki excused himself as well. The more distance got between him and the hall, the quicker his feet hit the ground. He thought to find you in your chambers, but just before turning the corner, he accidently lurked up the stairs which led to the observation platform and he caught sight of a thin layer of smoke hovering in the air. He followed the trace and found you on the observation deck.

Clothes on the floor, we're exploring our bodies Getting you off is my new favorite hobby Lipstick on your neck brands like a tattoo 'Cause that just how lovers do With big steps he encountered you and you grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. He slightly leaned down to you while your hands embraced his neck and your lips connected with his. The beauty of the passionate kiss was the synchronized rhythm. The way your tongues played with each other, but with harmony and gracefully you embraced each other, just to feel the closeness. Two lovers on a bridge in front of a kingdom with galaxies decorating the background. A picture that was quickly engraved on your mind.

Ooh, love is just another four letter word But that never stopped nobody Ooh, either way we lose Just like lovers, just like lovers do “Wow that was… stunning.” Loki admitted, his arm around your bare shoulders. You chuckled while drawing lines on his skin. Out of your finger escaped dark sparkles which then faded into the air. The sun had set and through the open window blew a soft breeze. “And I thought this unsuccessful journey would be boring.” You admitted, he kept quiet. After a long time passing he spoke up again. “Why unsuccessful?” “Because it was the plan that Lakira would seduce your brother, but his heart already belongs to another woman.” He was surprised. Loki watched you thoughtful, it was very rare that somebody could surprise him. After all it was in his nature to be in control at all given times, but you created chaos in him. A pleasant chaos. “You know about her?” “It´s hard not to see.” “For you. Your sister is still left in the dark.” You hummed in response but then you sat up. The blankets slipped away when you left the bed and started picking up your clothes from the floor again. Loki sat up. “You´re leaving?” He asked confused and again, he wondered why you caused such abnormalities. You laughed while already putting back on your dress. A laugh he couldn´t yet read. You eyed yourself in his mirror on last time, rearranging your hair and checking your makeup, then you turned to him. “Yes.”

His and hers closets are perfect for skeletons Hiding resentment and shared infidelities Cheers to regret, wash it down with some booze Drinking like lovers do

Days passed, and a wonderful reversal changed colors in Asgard. The leaves on the dress started to shifted to a warm red-orange, and the sea verging on the mountains appeared in a glowing turquoise, which created a stunning view. Behind the mountains was the dark grey unknown and thunder hollered in the far. Your sister and father didn´t have any success yet and you didn´t dare to open their eyes. It was rather amusing to watch Lakira flirt with all weapons, when Thor was only focused on training. And your father wasn´t any better. He tried his best to built a strong bond with Odin, who seemed more annoyed by him with each encounter. Sadly, the more aggressive Odin got, the more he let it out on Loki. You could see his struggles to keep up with the image of being the adoptive son. It reminded you of your own fate. Sometimes you could still feel the blame your father laid on your shoulders that you never rose to his standards. 

And when dinner was finished, Loki and you shared your thoughts and drowned them with booze. The burning taste of liquor running down your throat let you forget your conscience and filled your mind with the lingering picture of Loki´s lips that you craved. And when the bottle was emptied the tickling touch against his skin fulfilled you.

Ooh, love is just another four letter word But that never stopped nobody Ooh, either way we lose Just like lovers, just like lovers do Weeks passed and even Lakira had now accepted that Thor would never be hers. Only your father remained pounding on the imagination that Thor, his new son-in-law, would come and safe his realm. Lakira had also noticed your thing with Loki, but for now she had been quiet about it. You guessed she would eventually come and question you about it, so you purposely avoided her and spent even more at Loki´s chambers.

Loki, God of Mischief, in whom you had found sympathy and you opened up to his calming character. Just now you sat at the end of his bed on the floor, a book laying on your knees, reading. Loki who sat across you, leaned against the brown arm-chair, glanced up from time to time. When you caught him, he smiled sheepishly and you grinned jubilant. You had been there for two hours reading and the relaxed morning was accompanied by the smell of tea. It was perfect.

The sudden knock of a servant surprised you both and quickly you hid inside an adjoining room, but your ears were sharpened. “The King and the princesses will leave Asgard, a sudden sickness had afflicted their country.” He made a break, thinking if he should share his thoughts with the Prince. “I don´t think they´ll ever come back. Their country has been so destroyed, especially without their King there and with this deadly sickness, it will be only a question of time.” Loki´s jaw dropped, the situation took an unexpected turn. He could only stutter his answer, unable to form clear thoughts. “Yes… Yes, I will be coming to farewell the king… In just minute.”

When he closed the door shut and turned to look for you, you had disappeared and he cursed over your abilities to vanish. Of course, you had heard the news and the shattering truth had hit you hard. Especially because you had no idea. Angrily you stormed inside your sister´s chambers without knocking. “What sickness?!” You yelled and she flinched surprise. “Y/N what are talking about?”

Your angry façade dropped and was knocked out of the skies. She didn´t know it neither.

That's how it goes so take it like a grown-up Life's not a fairytale, it's time to own up Hire a hitman to take care of you And end it like lovers do You didn´t want to see him, you couldn´t see him. Deep inside you knew you wouldn´t be able to handle it, so you quickly disappeared in the space ship with the typical colors of your home. You told your servant you weren´t feeling well and they politely offered you to lay down. Hot tears ran down your cheeks and your mouth was shaking, trying to keep in the sobs. When the feeling of the ship lifting off the ground echoed in your cabin, you felt a slight ease. But then you remembered what was waiting for you at your home and dark images of death formed in your head.

You landed and realized that at some point, you had drifted off to sleep, but you still felt exhausted and tired. The castle seemed colder and lonelier. You realized servants missing, but didn´t question it. You drifted off into a constant condition of numbness. For days you barely ate, the food didn´t taste at all, the water in the shower was freezing cold, then burning hot, it didn´t matter. The only memory keeping you breathing was you and Loki sitting on his bed reading, or taking a walk at sunset. Watching the early fog slowly fading when sunrays appeared. The bond you shared, you almost called it love.

Ooh, love is just another four letter word But that never stopped nobody Ooh, either way we lose Just like lovers, just like lovers do The loud sound of spaceships landing woke you up. With you dark, silky robes on you tiptoed down to the lifeless hall of your castle. Your father still sat on the throne, it didn´t look like he had left it in the past days. His deep rings under his eyes, the unhealthy color of his skin, his dry lips and his thin body. He didn´t look good at all. You spotted your sister as well barefoot coming from her chambers, her arms around her body to shield her from the undeniable cold. The cold that didn´t even mattered for you, your body knew how to protect yourself. You looked out the window and realized the large groups walking out of the spaceships, no armor but instead big packages filled with medicine and stretchers. Their uniforms looked Asgardian.

The tall stone doors were pushed open and the first three persons to enter were Loki, Thor and Odin. Your father coughed before he could speak up, but then he managed to form some words. “King Odin, what are you doing here?” But Odin had no intention of speaking, Loki took the lead and simple stormed over to you. Now you embraced your own body as well, the whole attention that was suddenly on you made you shiver. Just a few feet before you Loki stopped and dropped down on one knee and small golden ring in his hands. You gasped shocked. “What the hell are you doing?” You asked screaming panicky and Loki just couldn´t resist to flash you a charming smile, which didn´t calm you down in any way.

“We both know that Asgard helping you is your only chance of saving your people.”

“Soooo?”

“So, I´m asking you to marry me.” You huffed a sarcastic laugh, but he didn´t allow you to interrupt him. “I know that under the circumstances of how we met wasn´t perfect, but nobody ever has been able to calm me down like you. Nobody ever made me laugh like you. You helped me forget my worries and you fought the monsters in my head. And the minute you left, I missed you. I missed you so dearly I couldn´t sleep because your picture haunted me in my dreams. I knew it was a mistake letting you go, and I know it won´t happen again.”

You hated to admit it, but small tears formed in your eyes, which you tried to blink away as good as you could. Never had you expected marriage to be knocking at your door, not so soon. Probably not ever. But now with Loki kneeling here in front of you smiled at the idea. You smiled at the past memories you had with him and the concept of many more of those moments in your future filled you with excitement.

“Yes.” You breathed and Loki, who was still struggling to find fitting words, fell silent.

“Yes?”

“Yes!” He jumped off the ground and put the ring on your finger, his hands still shaking. Then he tightly embraced you, pulling you off your feet. Your arms embraced his neck and you pressed your face in his skin. You glanced over to your sister and even Thor, they genuinely smiled at you.

I see you watching me, eyes on your target Mix drinks and smoke rings, it's already started Let's roll the dice and we'll both make our moves Playing like lovers do

  tags: @feelthefeelingsinsideyou @illuminateshawnm@imaginesforlotsofthings@suburbiasqueen  

[osmw1]

Dimension Wave  Chapter 15 — Somewhere Efficient, Profitable, and without Anyone in Sight

The next day. Last night, to celebrate the three of us getting together, I treated them the best herring I had. Our party got real lit and we crashed hard at the end of the night, even though it’s not like we got drunk or anything.

“So, what’s this about?”

I try to remember what happened yesterday. After getting a passerby to cook our top-quality herring, the three of us hung out by the riverbed—lantern in one hand, dinner in the other. We chatted about how we’re all Spirits, Yammy’s communication disorder, how she was anxious about being a bother to others, and even how my sisters forced me to play as a girl. I feel like we got a lot closer. That was fine. I can still remember up to that. But what’s this about?

“… zzz…” “… ‘tis how… I speak…”

Lying before me are Shouko in her yukata and Yamikage in her underwear. And yeah, I’ve nothing by my underwear on too.

“Wha…? What did we do last night?”

This game is rated PG; booze is restricted for minors, so I can’t even blame myself for being under the influence for any mistakes I may have made. And of course, nothing lewd can be depicted in game either. I’ve heard rumors that there are new VR games for adults only, but I really don’t think this is one of them.

“Ugh, what time is it?”

The sun shines through the windows. At the very least, I can tell it’s not morning anymore. I open up my menu and check the clock. It reads 1:24 PM. Jeez, it’s midday already. We’re absolute degenerates to be sleeping in on our first day as a party.

“Shouko! Yamikage! Get up!”

As soon as I shout at them, Shouko sits up with her eyes half-open. Judging by how she’s the only one in her PJs, I’d assume she dragged us all the way here.

“G’mornin’, Kizhna…” “Oh, wake up already…”

Beds really are too OP in this game. I think we got at least four, five hours of sleep. It’s probably a safety measure for dealing with people who stay up and play too much. Anyway, now’s not the time to get sidetracked.

“Shouko, what happened last night?” “Ev’body looked sho shleepy, sho we headed back to the inn.” “Mm-hmm.”

She’s not conscious enough to speak properly, but I still understood her. It seems like the three of us somehow managed to stagger back here.

“It woulda been dangeroush to shtay out there, so I got a big room for ush.”

I think I got the gist of the situation. But… but…

“But why are the two of us naked?!” “… ahh!”

Ah, she’s fully awake now. Shouko looks around at her surroundings before speaking again.

“Good morning, Kizuna. Quite the fine morning, isn’t it?”

What a refreshing smile.

“It’s past noon already!”

  The truth was actually awfully simple. Because clothes will wrinkle in this game, Shouko was being considerate and stripped us down. I guess wrinkles are a pretty big deal. But it’s not like there aren’t dry cleaners in town. As long as you have enough money, they can clean anything. And because they’re not expensive either, female players tend to often use them, apparently.

“I am truly sorry, Kizuna, Yamikage.” “No, don’t be. I should be thanking you instead.” “Aye. Had you not taken us safely to shelter, it may have landed us in an unthinkable predicament. We ought to be grateful to you.”

Yamikage was quite dazed after waking up. She was super embarrassed about other people seeing her nearly naked. She even blurted out ‘D-Don’t stare…’ as if it weren’t embarrassing for us too. Plus, she let her old-timey speak slip. It’s probably a part of her roleplaying. I mean, who actually speaks like that in real life?

“But, y’know, I’m a dude, right? You gotta be more careful. I mean, yeah, we can’t do anything in this world, but still… it wouldn’t be right.” “That’s true. Since Kizuna looks exactly like a girl, the truth had slipped my mind.”

Yeah, I know, I’m currently a girl, but… I guess I do look obviously feminine and same goes for Yamikage. She didn’t really seem to worry about seeing me naked though. If Dimension Wave weren’t so detailed, everybody looks pretty much the same. Of course, everyone looks good—unlike real life—but everyone is humanoid in nature. It is what it is. Those two know only know me through the body and voice of Kizuna†Exceed. They should be careful around a guy like me… but it’ll probably be fine if I’m more careful too.

“Well then, let’s make up for lost time. Where’re we headed to today?” “About that…”

Shouko makes an uneasy face.

“As fitting as the Forest of Eternal Darkness was for us, every other place I’m familiar wouldn’t be good for Kizuna. I mean, there would be plenty of people who would see us.”

She does have a point about her concern. If I were to be honest, it’s not like an absolute must that we keep it a secret. We’d have our priorities backwards if we let something like that stop us from hunting together as a party. We thought about simply waiting until nightfall to head back to the forest, but it’d be kinda a waste. It’s not really Energy-efficient for three people, Shouko said.

“In that case, maybe it’s not worth hiding anymore. It’d be impossible to keep it a secret forever anyway.” “I understand, Kizuna, but would it not be a shame if we so easily reveal your secret?” “Forsooth.”

Well, I guess so. If this were any other MMORPG, people could just go online and find out how the game works. But in Dimension Wave, most people don’t know even know what goes into forging a weapon. Gutting-type weapons are the weakest, so it doesn’t see a lot of use. But that’s because people don’t know that there’s more than just attacking with gutting weapons, hence why Shouko and Yamikage don’t want to give away this cash cow.

“So, what we want is somewhere that’s worthwhile for Energy, money, but also with no one around…” “‘Tis quite the list of requirements!” “I’m afraid we may be a little too greedy.”

We’re all in agreement about that. It’s almost as greedy as having a six-figure income requirement to even consider marrying someone. It would be weird if such a place existed with nobody there. Not to mention, the chances of being seen by anyone is definitely greater than zero. Hell, we might just be asking for the impossible. In an MMORPG, there are always locations that are popular and locations which are deserted. But if it’s a place where no one goes, it usually means it’s not efficient to grind there.

“And somewhere empty too…?”

I’ll admit to being unreasonable. There’s no way somewhere like that… wait a minute. There is a place like that. I didn’t get a good grasp of whether it was Energy-efficient or not, but at least I know the monsters are stronger there than the Forest of Eternal Darkness. But, it’s a little—

“Miss Kizuna? Is something the matter?” “Did you come up with a good idea?”

Both of them look at me with anticipation. Their expectations of me might be a little too high after the whole Lizardman Dark Knight battle yesterday.

“I can think of a place where there’s no one around but with monsters stronger than the ones in the Forest. Though, I really can’t say so for sure.” “What sort of place is that? ‘Tis an easy decision should we head there directly, no?”

… it’s not like I think it’s somewhere we should go, but it seems like Shouko and Yamikage are interested. No, we should decide as a group. I just threw out a suggestion.

“The ocean.” “The… ocean?” “Yeah. I paddled out to the open sea on a wooden boat before we met, right off the coast of the first city. I didn’t have much Energy then, so the monsters were pretty damn strong. I had to retreat, but I’m thinking that there’s three of us now…” “I can see why you’re unsure.”

How many monsters are there? Are we strong enough? Will we be safe? There are just too many unknown variables. It doesn’t seem like any of us would be good fighting on water. The monsters are strong too. But because almost nobody has fought them before, their mats are rare to say the least. And assuming that their mats sell, we would do well to go grind there.

“There’s another issue.” “Pray tell, Miss Kizuna.” “My boat’s too small.”

It would be pushing it trying to fit three people on my Wooden Boat +3 and that’s just for seating capacity. If a monster were to come at us, we would be dead in the water.

“Where did you get the boat?” “Ah, I found it in a market stall at the first city for 40,000.” “Perhaps we could directly contact the seller?” “Yeah, if only I knew their name. It was just some random market stall after all…” “‘Tis a handcrafted piece, no? The name of the craftsman should be inscribed somewhere.” “Wait, really?”

It’s obvious for MMOs to have the crafter’s name written somewhere. I check out my Wooden Boat +3 in my inventory. There it is. There’s a “Crafted by” line in the description. “Sheryl”. Surely, there’s gotta be more than one Sheryl. It’s so normal, yet so odd.

“I’ll try calling her.”

I let the others know before selecting “Chat” in the menu. Then I punch in S-H-E-R-Y-L. It’d be nice if everything works out well. I bought the boat about a week ago around noon as well. I don’t think she’d suddenly become nocturnal, right? Well, even if my call doesn’t go through, I can try again later at night. Of course, if I were to call her three times and I still can’t reach her, I’ll take the hint that she’s not interested. I could always go see her in person as well. Maybe I should ask her if she knows Alto, seeing how he’s got all sorts of connec—

—Sheryl has joined the chat.

“Hi, sorry for the sudden call. My name is Kizuna†Exceed. I bought a boat from your store about a week ago.” “…”

Huh? No response. Did she pick up? No, wait, this isn’t a phone call. It’s not like I could’ve called the wrong person. Plus, her name was easy to spell, so I’m sure it’s right.

“Do you hear me okay?” “… yep.” “Oh, good. So, I have a question for you. Since the boat I bought the other day fits only two people, I’m wondering if you have anything a little bigger.” “… nope.” “I-I see…”

I got my hopes up a little, but I guess nothing’s that easy. Back to square one, I suppose.

“Alright then, thank you for your ti—” “But, if you’ve got the mats, I could make you one.” “Mats, huh?” “There’s only a single person I can think of that’s bought a boat from me… I think I remember you. Seeing how easily you can drop 40,000, I’m sure you’re able to assemble materials too.”

Oh, right. If I recall correct, the 40,000 serin covered the costs of the raw materials. I don’t really know what her goals are, but I think I can get her to make me a boat as long as I front the costs.

“… it all depends on the size of the boat, too. How big are you thinking?” “I’m wondering if you can make me something big enough to seat three people and have enough room to fight on as well.” “…” “Umm…” “… hold on. Lemme crunch the numbers.”

I know I’m asking for a lot. And materials for a boat, eh? Seeing how the boat I have now costed me 35,000 serin, something three times… hell, even four, five times as big would run me about 170,000. Honestly, in that case, it’d be over my budget. I don’t even have that much money.

“… can you c’mere?” “Sorry?” “Can you come here?” “‘Here’ as in the first town?” “Right.” “I could make the trip, but it’ll take a while since I’m in Second right now.” “Right.” “You want to meet up, right? “… right. And if possible, bring the other two along too.”

I glance over at Shouko and Yamikage and pause to think.

“Can I run the idea through my friends first?” “Sure.” “And in that case, when would be good for you?” “Anytime is good. I’ll open my stall at the same place when you get here.”

—Sheryl has left the chat.

I’m still a little fuzzy, but at least we’re a step in the right direction. … it’s tough speaking with someone who’s so quiet.

“How did it go?”

The two of them ask me. Gotta explain it to them that our plans have changed.

“I got ahold of her, but it seems like we gotta help out in crafting.” “Whatever do ye mean?” “Well, I’ll cover the funds, so don’t worry about that. That’s not the important part.” “Then?” “We gotta meet the woodworker in person. She says she wants to meet both of you too. I said I’ll leave that choice up to you guys.”

She said, “if possible,” so we’ll see what we can do. I don’t think she’ll force us all to meet her. Well, if you asked me though, I’d like for us to go together.

“Then let us go together.” “Aye, aye.” “Y’all sure? I kinda feel like I volunteered you guys to go already.” “I’m sure. I don’t so much feel forced by you, Kizuna, but I also have no other plans.” “For I am your shadow, Misses Kizuna and Hakoniwa, I will always be behind you two.”

I guess I should be happy? But at the same time, you kinda sound like a stalker. In any case, our plan now is to head to Lurolona. Even though we said it’d be inefficient, we still went to the Forest of Eternal Darkness that night. We’re just playing it by ear.

contents: /prologue/ /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /next/

(please support me on Patreon or Paypal)

[twinfanfics]

The tale of the three head beast -The Marching Fishes 6/20

Digimon GoT AU

Second part of the tale of the three head beast series, you can read the first part The chosen children Here and here, or look for the tag  3t3hb  on this blog.

Resume: Three years had pased since Taichi won the hand of princess Sora and both get crowned King and Queen of the living land, now they must faced the duty of the monarchs. The war started on the Honest Island, does the King Joe would manage it?. Mean while at the other side of the sea Takato and Ruki stronger their forces.

Pairs: Taiyama, taisora, Joumy, daiken, and sooo so many others

ACT 1

ACT 2. SCENE 1: THE ARRIVAL

ACT 2. SCENE 2: BROTHERHOOD. (after the cut)

Iory stopped by Mimi’s cell before gone at the war boats. She was sitting with her back on the wall, uncomfortable for the pregnancy, she was hugging his son, both dirty and hunger, but at least the angry yelling had stopped.

“This is going to end soon” Iory said. But Mimi didn’t answered, she kept there, with his son on her arms “I never intend to…” He know he didn’t own her any apologized. “I know Joe Kido is a good man, too good to be King” her eyes were full of tears and he was full of words “but Taichi Yagami on the big Throne are  bad news, a puppet of The Light, the same Light that kills homosexuals and heretics, how much time has to pass before The Light will came at the Honest Islands and started to burn our idols and books.” she closed her eyes and kissed his son on the front as he tied the hug and Iory kept talking “My own father fighted against the capitol, he was trying to independence our home and he ended killed by the sword of the Wolf Knight, a peasant whose only achievement was won the throne for Joe Kido.” The Queen trembled “This is the best for the Islands” Iory said at last.

“Liar” The Queen said at Iory’s back.

The blood of the Forgotten Prince boiled.

The Ikkaku’s Island was at just some kilometers apart, the last defense before the Grand Island. Joe kept all the zone fierced guarded, but now Iory was sure that Joe would give up.

He was wrong.

“War boats at the horizont!” Davis yelled since the watchtower.

The sea was calmed and the warriors ready. The two flotillas encountered each other in the middle of the blue, and the battle started.

“Take the boats and get as many prisoners as you could!” Iory yelled the orders.

Davis jumped from the watchtower and the rebels scream, his sword was fast and certain, his hair was an orange flame that run over the battlefield, no for nothing he was his master’s favorite. Even then, Ken Ichijouji was the first on boarded the enemies boats.

Blood was draining to his sword, sweat all over himself and the screams of his enemies didn’t stop, some of them crying, more of them cursing his name. Ken felt alive on the battlefield, actions and quick thinking, kill the enemy, take the rudder, it was easy. Easier that the other things of life.  

Ken was guarding the cell when the Queen wake up. She found herself trapped, with his son still unconscious next to her over the cold floor. She searched for the weapons under her dress, but they had taken each one of them. She found just the smug face of Ichijouji looking at her. The swerwords of his dying enemies were nothing compared at the treats of the Queen. One beat at the bars of the cell and she stopped the yelling.  He was expecting questions, an opportunity to insult her and make her felt as the vain insect that she was. But the Queen started sobbing without help, uncontrollable murmurs that sound to much as a prayer, but wasn’t the name of god on Mimi’s lips.

“Joley… sister… please… “

“How you dare!” Ken scream.

His angry eyes found her quizzical look.

After everything how she dare to say that name, to called the sister that she betrayed. She had seduced the Sea King to choose her over Joley, when she knows that she was breaking her younger sister's heart. Because Joley’s heart was precious, Ken knows that. Memories of that far warm night assaulted him, the hot skin of the princess of the desert, her enthusiastic kisses mixed with all that alcohol. How long has been? three years? Would he ever seen her again?

Davis blocked one enemy attack against Ken´s back. The young knight turned to saw the face of his lover, Davis was so handsome with that bravery on his eyes, his sword moving gracefully, his mouth yelling at his enemies.

“We had this battle won” Davis said so full of confident that he even had time to kiss Ken before entering at the weaponry room. The smell of the gunpowder and the fire begun.

Davis Motomiya set the boat on fire and watch how his followers did the same with the rest of the enemies ships. His arm over Ken’s waist and both jumped at the principal ship, where Iory was looking them with proud. They had captured all the enemies that hadn’t jumped at the ocean or died on the fire (or in Ichijouji´s blade). His boyfriend was hugging him as his brother and the rebels celebrate the victory. Freedom, justice, the spirit of the Honest Islands will survive and conquer all.  The Queen had been wrong when she told him that he doesn’t belong there.

Davis had been in charge to give the food at the Queen. Ken was always yelling at her and Iory was a prince, he hadn’t had to do those things.

He didn’t understand his brothers, Mimi wasn’t rude at him. If something she looks scary and kept a child in jail was a discussion that he had lost. Back when they were small children The Sea King would had reasons to imprisoned them and he showed mercy instead, because they were children.

“Where are you from?” The Queen had asked after the third or fourth time that he had given her clean food.

“The Honest Island” Davis had responded. The Queen hadn't been looking so convinced. “I can guess that my parents are from some place else, but I am not”

“You guess?”

“Master Ryo bright me at the Honest Island when I was a baby, I don’t remembered live far away of this ocean” Davis had been talking easily “When the King accepted to training me as a Knight I won a place, and when the other King kill him and forgive my live, I won two brothers” Mimi shivered at the mention of the old battle. Maybe after those days with the knights she could understand the story of the Honest Island. Davis himself didn’t understand that much.

“I had been trying to do the same thing” the Queen had said sweetening her voice “I try to belong”

She had been sitting on an old chair, her son had been on her lap hugging at her big mom’s belly. Somehow she made the all thing looked like a throne. Suddenly Davis had been feeling so uncomfortable, Iory maybe was a leader and the right heir, but he had never seen that… royalty.

Mimi didn’t deserve that cell. The Queen moved her big eyelashes and his son coughed a few while Davis’ heart get smaller on his chest.

“You know you don’t belong with them, right?” the Queen had said while Davis had his hand resting over the cell lock “The Sea King had been so generous to you”.

A moment of hesitation. The keys were holding on his waist, he know that his brothers weren’t on the building. Did he really would be able to…

Something hit him. The Queen hit him with the chair. He hit the floor and the hand of the Queen had stretched to grab the keys, and she almost got them. Davis rolled at the floor, give up and dared to watch at Mimi’s eyes, and then, he understand why his brothers refused to see her.  Any of them would brake before her.

He had been left the room as Mimi yelled at him many variants of fool. But she had been wrong, he belongs at the Islands, at this rebelion, with his brothers: Ken and Iory, his lover and his prince.

The rebel flotilla was celebrating the triumph while Ryo Akiyama was watching the Queen‘s  cell on the rebels quarters.  There was something comforting at watching at the Queen. Maybe it was the obvious hate that the Queen felt for him or maybe was the red hair and the purple eyes that remembered him at his own wife. The women of the desert were something else.  

“He is going to kill you” Mimi said with no hesitation.

“Excuse me?”

“He adores at that children, but you… the King despise you”

Ryo laughed a little before answered.

“Oh darling, on this days, everybody call himself a King”  

With no more explanation the assassin left the Queen’s cell. Ryo walked through the building until his room, he closed the door and the windows, making completed darkness, he unveiled the big old mirror, recited the old canticle and slowly, a figure formed on the other side.

“Love of my life” he said as Rika´s image appeared.

“You fool” The woman said with the biggest smile he had seen in her since the first day Takato hold a sword.

“You look happy”

She inclined to pick something of the floor.

“Look this” she said as showed him a baby dinosaur moving on her arms “Takato found saurios! my child is the chosen one”

“For the Light God!” Ryo hide his jealousy behind his surprise. “I hadn’t seen one of those on years” the smiled of Rika only grown “But what about them? for when they grow up enough to be useful on combat MY CHILD had been conquer all the continent”

“Yeah sure” She dismissed him “Your plan is obviously not stupid. How is your lame rebelion going?”

“My apprentices are at two battles to won the Grand Island and when Iory will be King of this place, it will be only matter of time to send his army against the capital. Davis will be King of all the living land before the next summer solstice. You had to see him Rika, the people adore him”

“Well, Takato is a King already”

“A indulged King” he said making her frowned “ You had given him everything, Davis is a survivor, a natural leader”

“You are always over complicating everything” She said “two battles you said”

“Two battles to conquer the richest land of the continent”

“Made yourself sure that Izumi didn’t interfere” She said without hidden her concern.

“I assure you Rika, the Capital bigger mistake is dismissed this war. We are gonna win”

“For the glory of the Courage house” She said as a goodbye.

“For the glory of the Courage house” He repeated.

Ryo allow him to rest a little. All their fights and patience were paying off.

He remembered that night when Rika decided that felt compassion was part of their jobs. She give up everything for a baby that she believed was the chosen one, but he had never been much of fairy tales himself. Takato could had lucky, but his brother, Davis, had been talented since the first time that Ryo founded him hidden under the crib. Rika hadn’t see him, that itself was marvelous. He is going to be King, Ryo would make it. Captured the Queen had been a winning move, they are going to conquer the Honest Island in no time.

Far away, the knights of the Islands shared his master confident, not as his knowledge. The Forgotten Prince leadered the insing ship as Ken and Davis make out on the watchtower of the boat. And then, they see them: The Light banners all over the Ikkaku’s Island, and all their confidence banished.

[unavenged-robin]

Possible angst prompt: Red Hood finding Talon!Dick on the streets?? Or just Talon!Dick in general? Congrats on 2K followers that amazing!!! 💕💕

*meant to put that with my first ask so sorry about that!* “What happened to you?” -Jason Todd to Talon!Dick

Definitive angst prompt XD And thank you! ♥ This turned out to be much longer and more complicated than I had imagined at first but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. 

Moving back to the Manor had not been an easy decision for him, and there were days - but mostly nights - when the very idea of staying even one more minute in that big, silent house, was unbearable and infuriating, and every instinct in his body would start screaming for him to run, and hide, and forget about everything and everyone. Voices inside his head would remind him that he didn’t owe anybody shit, that he wasn’t the one to blame for how the things had gone wrong, that this time he wasn’t the one who let the family down, that the silence in the house was not his fault.

But Jason has a trick for nights like those (nights like this one).

“Hey, brat!”, he calls out to the kid perched on the couch as he enters the living room. “Let’s go out.”

Damian doesn’t even raise his gaze from his phone. He does, however, raise his middle finger at him.

“Try that again and I’ll break every bone in your hand”, Jason warns amiably and then, before Damian decides to take him up to the challenge, he approaches the boy and, with a quick movement, snatches the phone away from his hands.

“Hey!”, Damian protests, immediately trying (and failing) to grab it back. Jason raises his hand over his head, way out of Damian’s reach, and smiles down at the kid.

“Come on, put on some shoes and let’s go grocery shopping”, he prompts him. “Alfred said he needed a few things for tomorrow’s lunch.”

Damian glares at him.

“I believe that Pennyworth is more than capable of getting groceries on his own, Todd”, he answers with his best snotty tone, the one that suggests he’s already doing Jason a great favor by acknowledging his presence on this Earth.

Jason snorts.

“And good thing he is. Otherwise this family would have gone extinct for some time now.”

Damian, having clearly reached the limit of his patience with Jason’s teasing - and most likely with Jason in general - stands up on the couch armrest and reaches out his hand again to recover the stolen phone, only realizing his mistake when he sees Jason grinning like the Cheshire cat. To give credit to the kid, he only groans in defeat when Jason wraps an arm around his waist and lifts him up to throw him over his shoulder, a gesture that has now become almost a habit for both of them (although with different degrees of appreciation).

“Put me down, you big oaf!”, Damian yells as usual, struggling in Jason’s hold despite the fact that he knows it will not help him one bit. Jason only laughs, readjusts his grip on the boy, and starts walking, not paying any attention to the indignant cries and insults spitted out at him.

As per script now, little fists promptly begin to storm down on every inch of his back that the kid manages to reach, but they’re not as violent as they could be, and fists are not even the best weapon Damian could use against him in the position he’s in. There are unprotected nerves that he could reach and hit if he really wanted, and a little pressure on one of those points would damage Jason in a much more serious way than a few punches, and Damian knows it as well as Jason does, since the first times he found himself flipped over his shoulder he went directly for those.

In a way, Jason supposes that it’s kind of sweet on Damian’s part to now accept the (sometimes not so) gentle bullying as if he had finally - albeit reluctantly, and definitely not without a fight - submitted to his role of younger brother.

He still tries to kick Jason in the groin, though. The little shit.

Jason half-heartedly swats the kid’s bottom in retaliation, then he peeks his head into the kitchen.

“Hey Alf, do you have a list of things to pick up for us? We’re heading out anyway.”

“No, we’re not!”, Damian yells, still kicking his feet over Jason’s shoulder. “Pennyworth, Todd took me hostage!”

Alfred stops stirring for the time needed to cast a glance at the unlikely duo standing in the doorframe of his kitchen, then raises an eyebrow at them.

“I can write down a list for you, Master Jason”, he answers after a moment. “And Master Damian, you should know that my policy in cases of kidnapping of your person by family members is of non-intervention. Unless there is evidence of ill or deadly intentions, of course.”

Damian groans and for a moment it looks as if he has accepted the inevitable defeat, then he gives a sudden jerk and goes again for Jason’s testicles, which only earns him another swat.

“Ow! You’re a bully”, the kid growls, slumping in frustration against him.

“I’m doing my job of older brother in teaching you the injustices of the world”, Jason replies, patting him in mock comfort.

“I’m going to kill you in your sleep”, Damian declares, then he huffs and lifts himself up as much as he can, making a point of sinking his elbows into Jason’s back. “Can I have my phone back at least?”

“Nope. And if you try to kick me again I’m gonna drop you on your head.”

Obviously Damian kicks him again. Obviously Jason doesn’t drop him. (But only because Alfred was watching.)

-

Supermarkets at night always have a surreal touch. Perhaps it’s because of all those bright neon lights buzzing and shining on every surfaces they find, and the crowded lanes that seem to become empty in the blink of an eye. Perhaps it’s the sound of the cart wheels that gets louder and louder as you move away from the front door, while the music in the background quietly disappears into white noise. Perhaps it’s the idea of the hidden cameras in the corners of the shop spying on him, recording his every move.

Damian doesn’t seem bothered by any of this, Jason notices. Although it could be because he’s again too much focussed on the phone that he’s just regained.

“Don’t you have the impression of being watched?”, Jason asks, and the question takes a few seconds too long to overcome for interest the colorful game that seems to absorb all of his little brother’s attention.

Once the words sink, though, Damian stops beside him and looks up, first at Jason, then at their surroundings. He maintains a pretty believable expression of teenage boredom, but his eyes are serious and attentive now, as he considers the possible implications of Jason’s remark.

It takes him all of thirty second to click his tongue at his older brother and dismiss him as a paranoid idiot.

“I mean it”, Jason insists, but Damian rolls his eyes at him and moves to grab a box of cereals from the lowest shelf.

“Is this okay?”, he asks. “Pennyworth’s note only says ‘cereals’, with no other specifications.”

Jason scratches his head and throws a few more glances all around.

“Yeah, sure”, he agrees distractedly, taking the box from the kid’s hand and throwing it into the cart. They turn the corner of another empty lane, reaching the frozen food section and the large windows facing the street outside.

The only lights out there are the familiar tall, black, and vaguely gothic - like everything else in that city - Gotham’s street lamps. All Jason can see is black asphalt, deserted sidewalks and puddles of dirty water. Nothing weird. Nothing out of place.

And yet there is this feeling in the back of his mind that makes his skin crawl. It’s been tormenting him since they stepped out of the car and he can’t shake it off. The feeling of being observed, cautiously studied by cold eyes, as if he were a prey. And not any prey either. He feels like a mouse hidden in the grass that senses the presence of an owl behind him. It’s a feeling Jason doesn’t like but one he knows.

Besides, there’s something else to it now. Something painful, something that’s mostly wishful thinking on his part, but that keeps tugging at his strings. Jason needs to know if he’s right. He needs to try, and he needs to do it alone. So he grabs Damian’s hand, pushing him forward and closer to the cashier, where a small group of people is waiting for their turn to pay.

“What are you doing?”, the boy complains, indignant.

“Here”, Jason retorts, handing the grocery list and the cart to the boy. “Pick up the milk, the eggs, and whatever junk food you think Alfred doesn’t know you keep hidden in your room, then wait for me here, okay?”

“What? No!”, Damian protests. “It was your idea to come here in the first place, you’re not going to burden me with-”

“Yes, I am”, Jason cuts him off. “It’s only gonna take five minutes, stop being a baby about it.”

An old woman in the checkout line turns around to look at them. She gives Damian an encouraging smile that succeeds in both making the boy blush and in interrupting the tantrum before it could escalate into a full fight, but also, Jason suspects, in cementing Damian’s intention to kill him in his sleep. He will have to make sure to bar the door of his bedroom tonight.

“Five minutes”, Jason promises to the kid.

“I will cut you into pieces and feed your remains to Quinn’s hyenas”, Damian promises back, still red in the face.

Jason pats him on the head and moves towards the exit, trying not to run.

-

Here’s a fact: owls are one of nature’s best killing machines. They’re created to be so. Every detail of their body is designed to make it easier for them to hunt, to better surprise their victims and to never let them escape once they’ve been captured. Owls are ruthless killers, and yet it’s quite easy to forget this little detail about them. Nowadays when people thinks of owls, they think about Harry Potter. Not here in Gotham, though. Here in Gotham people remember the murderers more than they remember movies and books. That’s evolution for you.

Jason’s not an owl, but he’s a pretty decent hunter (and killer, when needed) too. Not that his prey is making such a great effort to hide. The footsteps over his head are careful and feather-lighted, but still very detectable in the silence of the streets. And Jason can’t be sure that it’s him but at the same time he is. Because it wouldn’t make sense otherwise. And because if it isn’t him, then Jason has committed a terrible mistake in leaving Damian behind.

The sound of footsteps stops just above him. Jason looks up but the darkness mixes shapes and shadows and he can’t distinguish almost anything in it, except the profile of a fire escape staircase crawling up the side of a building. There could not be a clearer invitation, Jason thinks. So he grits his teeth and climbs the steps carefully, one hand over his gun, the deafening sound of his own heartbeat in his ears, waiting for an attack that he hopes will never come. (Because it’s him. Of course it’s him.)

He reaches the roof of the building undisturbed, and still finds only shadows waiting for him. But one of those shadows is familiar enough for Jason to breath a sigh that is both relief and something uncomfortably close to fear.

“Dick?”

A mask of black and gold slowly emerges from the darkness and it’s not his brother’s face, but it’s the closest thing to it that Jason has seen in months.

“Dick”, he breathes again, and the names almost sounds like a prayer on his lips.

He can see the Talon better now. The slim but solid body wrapped in black armor, the daggers lined up on his chest, the twitching blades in his hands. Jason swallows and takes a step forward.

“Hey.”

Silence. He doesn’t even hear the sound of a breathe coming from him (from it?). He had a conversation about this with Bruce once. Are Talons even alive?, he had asked him. It had been a sterile debate, an exercise in ethics and syntax that had ended with nothing but the usual resentment. Then Dick had gone and become one of them, and there had been no more space for any moral debate.

“What happened to you?”, Jason asks now, slowly, like he were talking to a feral animal instead of his older brother. “I mean… I know what you did. Why you did it. But why not come back? Why not let us help you after-”

He stops, licks his lips. The Talon in front of him hasn’t moved one inch, there’s no way to tell if he’s even listening to his rambling. There’s no way to tell if he is Dick either, and it kills Jason that as much as he wishes he could, he’s not capable of recognizing his own brother among all the Court of Owls’ soldiers.

“Do you remember when I first came back?”, Jason goes on, even though deep down he believes that his efforts are useless at this point. But he needs to at least try to connect with the creature in front of him, with what remains of his brother. And something of him must have remained, otherwise why would the Talon being spying on them in the first place? “Do you remember what you told me then? That I could come home? That whatever war I was fighting, we could fight it together?”

He is paraphrasing a bit, but a little white lie is not going to hurt anybody, right? No more than they already are, at least.

“I didn’t trust you. I didn’t know if you really meant it, if it was true or not. Not back then. But you should know that it’s true now”, because Jason’s ready to make sure it is. “Come home, Dick. Bruce needs you. The kids need you. They even called a truce for you, that’s how bad it is. Tim’s going crazy trying to find you, and Damian… well.”

The Talon shifts at the mention of the names, the motion almost invisible, but Jason is too focused on him not to notice it. He has no idea on what it means, though.

“You saw Damian down there, didn’t you?”, Jason insists. “The kid is heartbroken, Dick. And he’s angry. Angrier than he was when Talia dropped him here the first time, which it says something, if I can add my two cents. And you still care about him, right? So if not for the rest of us- for the rest of them, I mean, then at least do it for him, Dick. Do it for Damian?”

It comes out like begging, and Jason hates it. But if it works then whatever. He can always deny everything later.

“Dick…”

He realizes in a quick moment that it had not been the mention of the kids’ names that had bothered the Talon, but his very own. And apparently he had just reached the limit of his patience with it.

The Talon’s speed is inhumane. Jason has barely the time to see him move, let alone try to react or to defend himself. If this was a lethal attack, then his life would’ve ended in the space of a heartbeat, with a flash of red and gold. It is almost funny, the idea of dying on an anonymous rooftop, by the hand of someone that once claimed to love him. Someone he loves. Times like this, Jason feels like he can almost understand Bruce, all the things he did and still does, the burden he drags along every step Batman takes and that sometimes threatens to pull all of them down with him.

The hand that land on his chest seems to be made of stone and steel and knocks the wind out of him. He’s pushed backwards, his back collides with one of the chimneys behind him and Jason wheezes, tries to reach out a hand to stop him, to shield himself. He manages to grab the Talon’s wrist, fingers wrapping around the rough gauntlet of his uniform, but he’s not strong enough to move it, and the Talon’s other hand is crushing him, making his vision falter and waver, black spots blooming in front of him where the Talon’s face should be. He doesn’t even know where his gun is, and even if he did, he’s not sure that he would be able to use it.

One thing he still can see - that he can only see now, from this close - is that there are eyes behind the red lens. Blue eyes. His brother’s eyes. But there’s no sign of recognition in them, no familiar spark. Dick is a Talon, and the Talon is Dick, and for some reason, until a moment ago, Jason thought those were two very different things. It’s weird to only realize it now, because he’s never been one for denial when it came to things like this. People change, he supposes.

He blacks out while watching the owl mask in front of his face moving oh so slightly, as if the Talon were trying to speak (trying to ask for help), but no sound escapes Dick’s lips, and whatever the Talon is trying to tell to him, Jason doesn’t understand it.

The last thing he feels is a light brush of something cold and hard against his forehead, and then everything goes black.

-

He wakes up maybe thirty seconds, definitely less than a minute later, which is still enough time for the Talon to disappear into the night. Jason wasn’t expecting anything less. He doesn’t even bother with looking around for him.

His chest hurt, and so does his back as he carefully stands up and retrieves his gun from the floor. Getting down the stairs and dragging himself back to the supermarket is no fun, and it’s even less funnier when he has to straighten himself and pretend that nothing happened for the sake of the kid standing angrily in the street with two grocery bags at his feet and another into his arms.

The old woman from the checkout line is standing next to Damian, a grocery bag of her own in her arms, and from what Jason can see she’s smiling down at Damian and talking his ear off about something that Jason can’t grasp. Her presence is probably the only reason Jason’s greeted with a glare and a laconic “you are late”, instead of a punch and a colorful series of insults.

“Sorry, kiddo”, Jason concedes, then politely nods at the woman. “Thank you, Miss…”

The old woman gives him a smile that lacks in teeth but not in kindness.

“Only Ettie, dear.”

Jason smiles back at her, feeling a little surreal.

“Thank you for keeping an eye on my little brother, Ettie.”

“Oh, don’t mention it, dear”, the woman says. “Gotham is not a safe place for children to be left alone in the streets, you know? Especially at night.”

Jason’s shaken enough by the night’s events to actually feel guilty at her words.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Sorry”, he repeats.

They talk for a few more minutes. About what, Jason really can’t say. He forgets the words as soon as they leave his lips, but at least he has the time to get back in control of both his body and his mental faculties, and by the time the old woman waves them goodbye he feels okay again. As okay as he’s ever gonna be, at least. Damian, on his part, only grumbles under his breath for the entire time, narrowing his eyes in a glare that promises a painful revenge for every second of this torture he’s forced to endure.

“You said five minutes”, the kid remembers him through gritted teeth once Ettie is distant enough. “What were you doing? Where did you go? If you dare again to-“

“Yeah, yeah, okay”, Jason repeats. “How many times do I have to apologize to you? I just had a little setback, that’s all. It’s all good now. You got everything?”

Another furious glare.

“Of course I did.”

“Good.”

Jason sighs and rubs one hand over his face. Damian takes a break from his rightful indignation to observe him with an almost worried sulk.

“Todd? Are you okay?”, the kid asks, losing the attitude for a moment.

I think I have two broken ribs, Jason wants to answer. He doesn’t. Partly because there’s no reason to tell Damian about tonight’s encounter, and partly because there’s that feeling again. Inhuman eyes looking down at him. Silent lips mouthing off words with no sound. A trapped bird, Jason realizes. That’s what Dick looked like.

He shivers. He knows the Talon’s back. And a part of him wants to look up, but if he does then Damian would follow his gaze and see Dick too. And that’s at least one nightmare that Jason can spare to the kid.

“Todd?”, Damian asks again.

Jason only shakes his head.

“Let’s go home.”

He leans down to pick up the grocery bags from the sidewalk and has to stop midway to not let out a moan. Yeah, definitely two broken ribs. Maybe three. Damian’s hand grips his arm and the kid tilts his head to the side, studying him.

Jason opens up his mouth to reassure him, but before he can speak the distinct sound of footsteps starts again above their heads, and Damian’s training kicks in place.

“What-”

He’s going to look up, Jason realizes. And if he sees Dick he’s going to go after him, and Jason is in no condition to follow either of them or to face the Talon again. And maybe that’s what the Talon wants. (Not what Dick wants, though). So Jason does the first thing he can think of: he grabs Damian by his shirt to pull him close and, going with the momentum, he kisses him on the forehead. (Like Dick had done on the rooftop, he realizes. Or tried to do as far as the Talon had let him, at least.)

It’s a quick, rough gesture, and the kid’s so surprised by it (almost more surprised than Jason is), that he doesn’t even punch him in the face. He only takes one step back to stare at him with wide eyes.

“What the hell was that for?”, he sputters, rubbing an arm over his forehead as if to delete the shameful gesture.

Jason stands up carefully and not without pain, listening for the Talon to move again. But the footsteps are gone now, and Damian seems to have already forgotten them.

“Just a reminder”, he answers then, his voice as casual as he can manage, while he adjusts the bags into his arms.

But Damian’s not having any of it and stomps after him when Jason moves towards the car.

“A reminder of what?”, he insists, still more confused than angry. “Todd, are you on drugs? Is this why you left? Father won’t be happy to know that you’re also a junkie, in addition to everything else.”

In spite of everything, even his hurting ribs, Jason finds himself barking out a laugh at those words. He pops the trunk open and puts down the bags.

“I don’t do drugs and you should know that, you little shit.”

The kid comes up in front of him, arms crossed on his chest and thunderstorms in his eyes.

“Then what the hell was that?”, he repeats. “And I want an answer that makes sense this time.”

Jason pauses. He too wants answers that make sense. He wants to know if Dick is a Talon or if there’s a Talon that used to be Dick. He wants to know which one of the two he faced tonight and what was the meaning of that encounter in the first place. He wants for this shitty situation to be solved. He wants his brother back.

“That was a reminder of the fact that you have an older brother who loves you a lot”, he decides then, and whatever answer Damian was expecting, this was not it. To be fair, Jason wasn’t expecting it either. And he still doesn’t know if he wants to believe it. “Now get in the car. You heard what your friend Ettie said: Gotham is a dangerous place at night.”

[seijuurouxryuu]

Clipped Wings (I Want to Show You to The World; But We Can’t)

Title:  Clipped Wings (I Want to Show You to The World; But We Can’t) Author: Shiro (TeitoxAkashi [AO3]/ seijuurouxryuu[Tumblr]) Rating: T Pairing: Reborn/ Hibari Kyouya Prompt: Secret Relationship AU Events: @khrrarepairweek Prompt: Enemies to Friends to Lovers | Secret Relationship AU Tags/Warnings: Graphic Depiction of Violence, No Archive Warning Applied

Day 3: Sun Day

They stared, studied, observed and planned, to attack, and to counter. There would be only one winner, one survivor between the two of them.

Unless Fate decided otherwise, only one of them can live.

AO3

Hibari glared down from the balcony, eyes narrowed and cold as gunshots rang in the air, loud to all but him. Reborn met his glare unflinchingly, hatred in his eyes as he swiftly pushed his way through the first wave of defence, none which could do more than giving him a second delay. The West wing was already down, Lightning's shield was pierced through by a storming wind. The East and South wing were holding on, the Sun guardian blinding all whilst the Mists deceit their sight.

The North wing was where the Cloud stood, blood-soaked from killing the strays that managed to wriggle in along with the dirty traitors. And he was still standing strong, unwavering.

Silence was deafening, because his men couldn't even scream when the lights in their eyes faded.

It was a one-sided fight between his men and the hitman. Soon, none but he stood on the ground, eyes never leaving Hibari for more than two seconds. The two stood there a moment, tension high in the air.

There was no second nor third wave to stop the hitman. There was only Hibari there. And Hibari doesn't need any reinforcement. They would only be a nuisance rather than a help for him.

Hibari dropped down and landed gracefully on his feet, his suit jacket fluttering as though they were wings.

They stared, studied, observed and planned, to attack, and to counter. There would be only one winner, one survivor between the two of them.

Unless Fate decided otherwise, only one of them can live.

Hibari tighten his grip on his tonfa and rushed forward, dodging the bullets swiftly. Reborn jumped back from a swipe and used the momentum to kick upwards, aiming for the chin. When the skylark dodged, he turned his body, pushing his other leg up and swiped Hibari's head instead. Hibari had to use his forearm to block the kick as he was pushed a good three meters away, the cement under his feet crumbling.

He did not pause from that as he swung his tonfa, chain flying out and circling, glowing and growing. The end of it cut Reborn's cheek as the hitman tilted his body, pulling the trigger, fire instead of bullet. It chipped Hibari's leg, tearing the cloth of his dress pants. Hibari charged in again, meeting Reborn halfway through as their weapons clashed, the gun blocking the metal tonfa easily enough.

The two exchanged blows after blows, putting bruises, injuries and blood one after another on each other. Neither paid much attention to what was going on, nor they cared as they fought tooth and nail. Neither was in a better state than the other, equal and on par in strength and skills and experiences.

"Stop."

They jolted to a stop, Hibari's tonfa inches away from smashing Reborn's forehead and Reborn's gun pointing at Hibari's neck, the carotid artery. Behind them was Tsuna, eyes blazing with fire and anger and pain and sorrow. His flames, filled the air with the smell of ozone, hypersensitive.

"The fight is over, Hitman. Take your comrades and leave at once." He commanded, voice tight and stern. Reborn didn't even move his eyes away from Hibari's as the three of them stood still, atmosphere tense and suffocating. He knew, that they've lost this round.

Luce was calling for retreat.

A pause, and both Hibari and Reborn jumped far away from each other. Reborn brushed his shoulders slightly as he placed his gun back in his holster. He bent down and picked up his dropped fedora and wore it, tipped low and covering his eyes.

"The war is not over yet, Don Vongola." He said, voice void of everything but murderous intent.

"No, it is not." Tsuna replied, unwavering, but there was a hint of tire and sorrow. If Reborn picked it up, he showed no indication as he turned and left.

But not before locking gaze with Hibari once again.

They watched the hitman's back disappear before they themselves turned and headed back into the building. The war was far from over, but as for the moment, it was the time to mourn for those they've lost, to heal and to recuperate. A sacred moment of peace.

He was pushed against the wall, deeper into the shadows as another mouth claimed his, hungrily mapping and dominating in something akin to urgency. He returned it with same hunger, same urgency, same heat. Any sounds were swallowed by each other as they drink in each other's presence like thirsty men finding an oasis in a desert.

Hands, hot and cold, ran through their body, memorizing each curve and edges, again and again as if it wasn't enough.

Darkness hid them from the world as they showed their vulnerable sides, silent whispers just as loud in their ears as their breathing, too loud. A tear or two was shed, for they couldn't portray their love to the world, only in darkness and in hiding, for they could only meet for love when the stars aligned, the blue moon raised. For the hatred and rage pointed not at each other but their destinies when they meet in blood and in weapons, surrounded by burning fire.

They mouthed each words of weakness into their skins, wanting to claim but can't, wanting to put concrete evidence of having each other but can't.

(If only they were anything but killers//If only they were anything but lovers.)

Lying in bed, they held each other, basking and soaking, hours before they would have to separate, hours before they would have to hide again. "Why?" Hibari whispered, head on Reborn's shoulder, burying his face in the crook of his neck with an arm thrown across his chest. Fingers ran through his hair gently, lulling.

"Because its not time yet."

"When will the time come?"

"Who knows." Reborn sighed wearily, placing a kiss on his forehead. "Who knows." He repeated for himself rather than the other. Hibari closed his eyes, tightening his hold on him. "Until the time comes, don't dare you die without me.

"Don't dare you die in any hands but mine."

Reborn closed his own as well, turning slightly to pull him close. "You as well, my love."

.

.

Lords above, please have mercy on us sinners, let us breathe together.

Lords above, have mercy on your children and let us free.

Let us soar together, with or without the glory because we need them not but each other.

Don't pull us apart, or just take us away from this suffocating world.

A/N= This is a parallel world where Reborn did not tutor Tsuna and Tsuna was born mafia. Reborn met Hibari when they were teens and got together in their early twenties. In their mid twenties was when war among every Famiglia and mafiosi started. No Famiglias are allies. Everyone is enemies other than their own.

Reborn is from the Arcobaleno and Hibari is from the Vongola, obviously. Arcobaleno and Vongola are one of the strongest and always clashes. (There are about ten to twelve Famigia/ Organizations that's in the strongest side.) Reborn and Hibari's relationship was a secret since the beginning, more so when the war started. Now, they were simply just so sick of it.

Fun fact= Tsuna actually knew that Hibari had some sort of relationship with Reborn, but he said nothing. Which was probably why he allowed Hibari to always stand in Reborn's way, not only because Hibari is the strongest guardian, but because he understood that they must have a vow of sort.

In fact, they do. Hibari and Reborn vowed that if they were to be killed, they'd rather die in each other's hands.

[I apologize for any grammar, spelling, etc. etc. mistakes]

[restlessmelodrama]

Say I Never Mattered Chapter 1  *:･ﾟ✧

Steve Harrington x Y/N Henderson (Slowburn)

Warnings: Swearing (i guess), also… probably bad writing.

Chapter 1  / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 /

Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8

Playlist

A/N:  Hi, you may have noticed, that this is a new account.

I’ve been on Tumblr for- who the fuck knows? Many years. I feel old.

I wrote some fanfics before, and a few people were reading it.

Then out of nowhere like every mentally-stable person would, I deleted everything and disappeared from the Internet for two years. But I’m back now, so hey!

I guess my writing isn’t that bad, so I hope you enjoy. xD

⟡ Tell me, if I should continue this series and leave some constructive criticism if you want to.

P.S: I’m not a native speaker, so sorry if I made any mistakes. 

There you were.

Walking down the rainy, cold streets of Hawkins, Indiana.

You had just left the modest road between Euclid and Monroe leading to a few gorgeous houses, with garages as big as your home and huge heated pools with jets. Upper-class shit.

It was shortly after eleven am on a Friday night in November and the poorly lit streets of Hawkins were deserted, as always right after nightfall. This town was the definition of a dump.

You were rummaging through your backpack, searching for your small mirror, in the need to check if black streaks of mascara were visible on your face. You had to look somewhat presentable since you still had to pick up your little brother from the Wheeler’s place.

You found it right when you turned onto Maple Street and tried to wipe away one of the destructions this night had left, with the right sleeve of your beloved jean jacket and buttoned it up to hide the rest of the visible embarrassment. Continuing to walk to the only house in the neighborhood with its lights still on.

You rang the doorbell and quickly walked the few steps, leading to the front door, back down. You were a little tipsy and did not wanna risk an argument with Mr. Wheeler about underaged drinking. If he couldn’t smell the alcohol he wouldn’t notice, since he barely even noticed your existence... or anyone’s as a matter of fact.

The light turned on and the door opened, revealing a pissed Ted Wheeler in a green tracksuit and Birkenstocks. His usual look.

“Hi, Mr. Wheeler. Sorry for the late disturbance, but I’m here to pick up my brother“, you said in the friendliest way possible.

He looked at you in confusion.

“Dustin Henderson“, you tried to help him.

Still no sign of enlightenment

“You know, wild curls, baseball cap, very annoying.“, you told him, nervously chuckling, hoping he would finally snap out of it.

“Oh yeah Justin“, he nodded.

“It’s Dus-“, you wanted to correct him, but you were interrupted.

“They’re in the basement. Can you go down there and get him? I’m watching the game.“, he asked with an annoyed undertone in his voice.

„Um- uh sure… I can go“, you stuttered.

This guy was unbelievable. Incredibly useless. A waste of space.

You never understood what Mrs. Wheeler saw in the man.

You took a deep breath and followed him inside. He pointed you towards the living room and disappeared into their kitchen.

You shook your head in disbelief, walking through the Wheeler home. It was already decorated for Christmas.

You always admired Mrs. Wheeler’s assertiveness to turn their place into a Winter Wonderland although her family hated it. Everywhere you looked were little ornaments, fairy lights or other decorations.

It made you think of decorating the tree with your mom and your brother. A very distant but happy memory.

You were about to open the door to the basement when Mr. Wheeler called after you.

“Hey, Henderson, hold up! One question.“

“Yes?“ You asked, turning around after rolling your eyes, wondering what the hell he could possibly want, certain that he had called you by your last name because he couldn’t remember your first.

“Is there a chance you have seen my daughter, Nancy anywhere?“, he wanted to know, really pushing his parental might, as he was staring you down.

He clearly thought he was an authority figure to you, which was so far off, that it was kind of funny. Especially in your tipsy state of mind.

“No… I’m afraid I haven’t.”, you responded, biting back your laughter.

“Aren’t you two always out together?“, he wanted to know next, crossing his arms over his chest.

What world was this guy living in?

“Yes, that would be true if we were still in middle school exchanging our lunch boxes, Mr. Wheeler.

We barely talk now.“ you declared, sighing.

“Oh, okay”, he said, already having lost interest in what you were telling him.

You gave him a sarcastic smile, that you normally used when you were about to flip somebody off and turned around, stepping into the basement and leaving the ignorant man behind. You kept standing on top of the staircase for a few seconds, attempting to calm yourself down, but were interrupted by Max sighing in relief,

“Shit, Y/ N! You scared me. I thought you were my brother.“, she blurted out.

“Oh, sorry to disappoint, but I believe my hairdo isn’t a mullet, looking like I planted some roadkill on my head. Also, my jeans are just not that tight“, you joked, the kids erupting into laughter and earning yourself a high-five from Lucas.

“You’re good for tonight, though.“, you said reaching into your pocket to reveal a set of keys. You tossed them over to Max, who had a look on her face like she had just won the lottery, as soon as she realized who they belonged to.

“You took his keys?“, she asked, her eyes growing wide, a huge smile on her face.

“Yeah, he tried to drive home shitfaced, so I thought I’d do everyone else on planet earth a favor and take them. Well, except for Harrington, because Billy totally crashed in the shed in his backyard.“, you explained planting yourself on the couch next to Mike, digging into the bag of tortilla chips and stuffing a few in your mouth.

You tried not to think about it too much but your heart began to hurt when his name left your lips. You didn’t know what to think. That night had been messy and ugly and heartbreaking.

“You definitely saved my ass. Thanks, Y/N!“, Max interrupted your thoughts again.

You cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the feeling of it closing up,

“Anytime, California.“, you smiled.

The party had been playing DnD, all day and they begged you to let them finish the game, stating it would only take a few more minutes.

Almost an hour later, they had finally lost and your brother was displeased enough to be willing to leave since he was a sore loser.

You quickly said your goodbyes and left through the back door.

“Where’s the car?“ Dustin asked when you reached the front of the house.

He seemed pretty drained all of a sudden.

“I had something to drink, tonight, so no driving for me, sorry. 

Also, dad needed my car earlier today“, you brought up as casual as possible, trying to make it seem harmless.

Dustin sighed, rolling his eyes, “He took off again. Didn’t he?“

“No, Dusty, I’m sure he will be home by tomorrow.“, you lied once more, giving him a hopefull smile.

“You know that’s utter bullshit.“, he hissed, kicking the ground in frustration.

Bullshit, it was like the fucking word was haunting you. Tonight it kept growing, tougher and meaner.

“We both know that it’s not likely that we will see him or your car anytime soon. You can stop pretending, Y/N. I’m not a little kid. I know what’s going on.“, he exclaimed clearly angry.

He didn’t know what was going on. Not all of it, and you were very thankful for that.

But he was right, he wasn’t little anymore. You still hoped you could give him the kind of childhood, you weren’t allowed to have. You felt the tears build up again, but you were able to hold them back. You didn’t want Dustin to feel even worse just because you were tipsy and emotional.

“You’re right“, you gave him a sad smile, 

“But you’re also not grown up yet and you already have enough on your plate, Dusty.“, you said, feeling a little overwhelmed as your vision began to blur.

He must have seen the tears in your eyes and your exhausted posture because he immediately gave up on reasoning with you.

Both of you fell into silence for a  few minutes. Your brother was staring at the ground and dragging his feet.

You bit your lip. You hated when things were that way between you.

You moved a bit closer to him and slightly pushed his side with your elbow.

“How about some fries and a milkshake?“, you asked trying to get him to talk to you again. You couldn’t bear that silence.

He looked at you with furrowed brows and a scrunched up nose, “It’s almost 1am.“

“All right grandpa!“, you teased him, “If you’d rather go home to stare at our empty fridge, we’ll do that.“ 

“Oh, hell no! Let’s go to Benny’s Burgers. They are open all night on Fridays.“, he chuckled almost sounding offended.

You smiled, putting an arm around the boy's shoulders, turning the corner to Randolph Lane.

“Y/N? One more thing…“, he asked stopping in his tracks, looking serious all of a sudden.

“What is it?“, you asked, squinting your eyes a little.

“You’re paying right?“, he grinned.

And you let out heartfelt laughter.

“Oh no Mister, since you don’t want to be treated like a little kid anymore, I think you’re going to pay for yourself. Welcome to adulthood, brother.“ You told him still laughing and obviously thinking he would get the joke, but he didn’t.

“Oh, come on Y/N, I-“, he began to argue.

The rest of his sentence was swallowed by the sound of your heart beating so loud, you thought it would hop right out of your chest, any second. Excruciating pain was moving through your entire body, as you stared at the dark-red BMW parked in front of the restaurant.

You felt a cold shiver run down your back and your throat was starting to hurt again.

Tonight the odds really weren’t in your favor.

“Cool, Steve is here! Maybe he can drive us home later.“, Dustin exclaimed, excitedly.

“Yeah, Maybe“, you whispered, not wanting to alert your brother.

You were walking, a few hesitant steps behind Dustin, your mind telling you to run in the other direction and not stop until you were out of this fucking town leaving behind everything. Your family, your responsibilities and him. Especially him.

Fuck.

[hollyplays]

The Roundup: July 2018

It’s been a shitty, shitty month. I’m getting evicted, we got into a car accident, the new insurance has my girlfriend confused for someone with a horrible speeding ticket record, and my little brother, who is learning to drive, has started hiding the car keys for some reason.

I have a tendency to hoard media. During my first year of college I was extremely depressed and contemplating suicide when I read a piece of advice- find something to look forward to, and you’ll never do it. So I started hoarding comics- I think I have 180 GBs of comics on my computer- and movies.

Well, at some point during July things got so bad I started burning through my movies. I’m not sure exactly how many I watched, but...it’s a lot. This is going to be long. 

(I have since stopped watching multiple movies a day, and gone back to semi normal movie watching habits.)

Tampopo: I think I technically watched this in June and forgot, but I love it. Tampopo is a “food western” about a group of food enthusiasts helping a young woman perfect her ramen restaurant. Tampopo has lots of smaller vignettes about how food affects our lives, and the result is lovely and comforting and meditative. Tampopo is excellent, and manages to have one of the best opening scenes to a movie I’ve ever seen.

The Exterminating Angel: This was my first movie by Luis Bunuel, and I loved it. This kind of supernaturalish, surreal horror really really works for me. Plus, the rich suffer, which is always nice. This movie is really wonderful, plus the behind-the-scenes stuff on the blu-ray was super interesting. Apparently to make the actors more uncomfortable in the scene, Bunuel would rub honey all over their arms. Nasty.

The Fisher King: My second Gilliam movie. Better than Jabberwocky, but I still wouldn’t call it good. Robin Williams was excellent as always, but I felt like Jeff Bridges was playing half a character. It had some touching scenes, but overall kind of forgettable. I don’t think I’ll be seeking out Gilliam anymore.

Badlands: I try not to judge directors on their first movie, but Badlands really comes out in Malick’s favor. This is as wonderful a movie about a serial killer as I’m likely to ever see. It’s like a landscape painting with characters. It manages to never be slow or drag despite long flowing scenes. I’m still thinking about Badlands more than a month later, and that says a lot.

Where the Water Tastes Like Wine: This is a really interesting game. WWTLW has one of the most unique mechanics I’ve ever seen in a video game, and the process of watching your stories grow and evolve is so, so cool. I wish the overworld map wasn’t so barren, and that the sprinting mechanic wasn’t such a pain, but beyond that this game is excellent. The writing here is top-notch.

Eraserhead: I’d technically seen this before, but I was half asleep so I’m counting it. Eraserhead is obviously good- it’s film history for a reason- but on a second viewing I’m struck by just how impressive the visual storytelling is. The dialogue in this movie could fit on half a page, but there’s still so so much to it. You need to see this at least once.

Frances Ha: “Frustrating, but enjoyable” seems to be Baumbach’s general ouvre, and Frances Ha is no exception. Still, I enjoyed this more than I thought I would. Frances is likable, even when she’s fucking up, which is more than I can say for her life partner Sophie. For as much time as Frances spends making mistakes, it’s really lovely and warm to see things come together for her in the end. Worth a watch, especially at an hour and fifteen minutes.

The Thin Red Line: Jesus christ, this movie is so long. It’s two hours and forty minutes long, and nothing of worth happens after the forty minute mark. It’s a war movie that manages to be beautiful and haunting, which would be impressive if it didn’t just fucking drag. I might watch this again and just turn it off at two hours, honestly.

Days of Heaven: I wanted this to be better than Thin Red Line and it was. Days of Heaven brings Malick’s landscape painter sensibility to labor in the 20th century, and the result is genuinely fantastic. The visuals here are stunning, even if the story is a little lacking- my biggest frustration is that most of the story events take place in the third act, like Days of Heaven is the first part in a series of novels that doesn’t exist.

Fat Girl: I get what this movie was trying to do. I understand the metaphor for how dangerous it is to be a woman. I get it, and I can respect it, but fuck do I hate this movie. I just don’t wanna watch 2 hours of a young fat girl getting shit on by her family, interspersed with rape scenes. I’m not interested in that, no matter how pretty it’s shot.

Mary and the Witch’s Flower: I watched this as a palate cleanser after Fat Girl, and it served that purpose just fine. It’s an okay movie on it’s own, but in the shadow of the rest of Ghibli it kind of pales. The animation and visuals are as phenomenal as ever, but the story is a little all over the place. Definitely still enjoyable, but sort of middling.

Sounds of Summer by Ten Toes Spumoni: If we’re Facebook friends, you’ve probably already seen me talk about this album. It’s been on repeat around here pretty much since it came out. Ten Toes Spumoni is a good friend of mine, and I genuinely believed nothing he made would top Journal of Hypnosis, but Sounds of Summer blows it out of the fuckin water. Throw a few bucks his way, because he deserves it.

Hannah Gadsby’s Nanette: This is a standup comedy act that isn’t particularly funny. It’s amazing, and full of toothed commentary on the world and LGBT issues, but it isn’t funny. It’s heavy, and hard to watch, and worth the trouble. I think this is one of the few things I gave 5 stars this month, and it deserves it.

Wizard of Legend: A big part of watching movies for me this month has been finding the perfect roguelike to play while I watch movies. I eventually settled on Gungeon, but Wizard of Legend was a strong contender too. It’s roguelike elements are really enjoyable, and finding the perfect combination of spells is fun, but resources are a little too scarce for my liking.

My Own Private Idaho: I loved this movie more than I expected to, and I knew I’d like it. My Own Private Idaho offers an exceptionally gay take on modern Shakespeare, and River Phoenix and Keanu Reeves are absolutely phenomenal here. The interview segments are a little hard to watch, but the rest of the movie is beautiful and sad and lovely. One of my favorites in a long time.

Coco: Similar to Witch’s Flower, I thought this was fine. The music is wonderful, and the animation is beautiful, but the story is a little lacking, especially towards the third act. I think Pixar forgot how to write villains that aren’t just ‘good guy’s been bad the whole time’. Hell, even Incredibles 2 did it.Those complaints aside, Coco is really enjoyable and well worth your time.

The Spirit of the Beehive: A meditation on childhood, the Spanish civil war, early film, and Frankenstein. I enjoyed thinking about this movie later more than I actually enjoyed watching it, I think. It’s a little slow, but the third act picks up and wraps the story up nicely. Definitely watch Huellas De Un Espiritu if you watch it, it adds a lot of context which helps the movie out.

Simon Of The Desert: Short movies are nice when you’re watching three a day, so I really appreciated Simon Del Desierto’s 45 minute runtime. It’s both less surreal and funnier than I expected- Simon Del Desierto feels more like Monty Python than Jabberwocky did. Highly recommended.

Cronos: A little disappointing, I’m not gonna lie. I’m a huge Del Toro fan, so I was really excited to watch his first movie, but it left me lukewarm. He describes it as a vampire film, but it takes a long time to find it’s legs. Worth the watch just for Ron Perlman and the scene where a little girl breaks his nose.

The Devil’s Backbone: This is what I wanted Cronos to be. A Del Toro twist on gothic romance and ghost story, Devil’s Backbone is as unsettling as it is charming. The kids in this movie are exceptional actors, and the script sells their childhood so, so well.

The Adventure Zone: Here There Be Gerblins: I didn’t expect too much from the graphic novel of TAZ’s first arc, but it really surprised me. Carey Pietsch’s art is just cartoony enough to bely the adult humor in the series, and the characters have been deftly adapted. The first arc in the podcast suffers a lot from ‘pregen syndrome’, where Taako and Merle weren’t super fleshed out, but the graphic novel rights the ship really well.

Black Girl: At 59 minutes, Black Girl is well worth your time mostly for how angry it’ll make you. Black Girl tells the story of a Senegalese woman who is deceived into becoming a house maid for a rich French woman, and the sheer amount of bullshit she puts up with before losing it makes her a saint in my eyes. I enjoyed this movie a lot, and I’m excited to see more African cinema.

A Hat In Time: I’ve played the shit out of this game and it never gets old. A Hat in Time is as charming as charming gets, and it perfectly recreates the feeling of playing Mario Sunshine for the first time. Only, you know, Hat in Time is fun.

Pony Island: Pony Island is one of those games that’s just a little too short- not because it feels rushed, but because I wished there was more when it ended. It’s a little cheesy in places, and the dialogue is a little slow, but the puzzles are perfectly scaled and the sense of humor is really great.

Styx: Shards of Darkness: This game might be good. I don’t know. The main character’s dialogue was so shitty I only played about 40 minutes of it. Imagine the mechanic in Jak & Daxter where Daxter makes fun of you when you die, but they got the writers from Family Guy really drunk and had them write it and never told them no.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Haven (35/50)

Summary: They say Resembool is a haven, and they’re right. Lush pastures, quaint country town, farmers’ markets on Saturdays: a bucolic paradise.

But it’s more than that. Resembool is a haven for the runaways, the deserters, the people who don’t want to be found…

The Resembool community knows there’s something odd about Hohenheim, but they’re not going to let that stop them helping him out. This is Resembool after all, a place where no one has to hide and neighbours help neighbours, be they building a fence, chasing a sheep, or trying to save the country from an evil they inadvertently helped release centuries ago…

Or: A series of slices of life in an AU in which Hohenheim never leaves, and several broken state alchemists find hope and home in Resembool.

Rated: T

==

Haven

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31] [32] [33] [34] [AO3]

Summary: Fahim joins forces with Alchemists Anonymous. 

Characters: Fahim (Scar’s brother), Imrul (Scar), Hohenheim

==

“You’re mad.”

“No, I’m not.” 

It’s an argument that they’ve been having ever since Fahim announced his intention to go and introduce himself to the strange club of alchemists that are attempting to save the world as they know it. The story of what’s going on in Amestris  is not exactly a secret around Resembool, nor is the group of alchemists and their efforts to counter it. 

For Fahim, who has known that there is something not quite right about Amestrian alchemy ever since he started studying it, this seems like the ideal opportunity to be able to put his theory and notes into solid action, and potentially provide the missing piece of the puzzle that the Amestrian alchemists, without the additional knowledge of alkahestry, may not have picked up on yet. 

Imrul, naturally, thinks he’s bonkers for trying this. 

“They tried to kill us,” he points out for the fifth time as Fahim is getting ready to leave. “They tried to kill our entire people.”

“I know,” Fahim says levelly. “I’m not saying that I forgive them for that. You know that I never will. But right now, the thing that we face is something far bigger than any of us, something far bigger than the entirety of Ishval, the entirety of Amestris. If we don’t do something about it, then we’re all going to end up dead anyway, and I’m not risking any more lives when I can help to save them.”

Imrul sighs. “You’re too idealistic for your own good.”

“No. I’m just pragmatic about the whole thing. Being stubborn and holding a grudge aren’t going to get us anywhere. We can still hate them for what they did in Ishval but that doesn’t preclude us from joining forces with them for the greater good against a common enemy that won’t spare us either.”

Fahim can see that Imrul still does not entirely agree, but he doesn’t say anything else, letting him leave the house and make his way towards the Elric home where the alchemists meet. 

It’s a complicated situation, more complicated than a simple us and them. For a start, this entire organisation of alchemists centres on Hohenheim, who was never in Ishval and who is the survivor of a ruined homeland like they are. That he was unwittingly involved in its ruin makes him even more determined to prevent it happening again. And whilst the others committed atrocities in Ishval and have made no attempt to try and downplay that or hide it under the rug, they do at least admit that they committed those atrocities, that they were atrocities no matter which way they’re looked at, and in the end, they chose to reject the authority that was telling them to commit the atrocities. 

Fahim does not see it in quite as black and white terms as Imrul does, and he’s perfectly accepting of that. After all, Imrul’s material suffering at the hands of state alchemists is far, far greater. He will permanently be reminded of it in the metal right arm that he now wears. It’s only natural that Imrul harbours such a deep-seated resentment.

He has not gone after vengeance as Fahim thought he would, though. Early on in his recovery, just after they had left Ishval and found this safe haven, he had been muttering about killing all the state alchemists. Fahim had not said anything at the time. Imrul needed the anger, it was what kept him going through those first few days when everything was touch and go. Although Fahim had privately wondered what such a rampage would achieve, he didn’t voice that thought, and Imrul has not mentioned it for a while. Maybe finding the small Ishvalan community here in Resembool has given him hope that he had not had before. 

It has certainly given Fahim hope. 

Al answers the door when he knocks at the Elric house. 

“Hello Mr Fahim. What can we do for you?”

“Actually I was hoping I could do something for you. Is your father there?”

“Sure, come in. Dad!”

Al shows Fahim through to Hohenheim’s study, which is a scholar’s nightmare and paradise at the same time. There are so many books and maps in there, old documents from long-forgotten regions that are undoubtedly originals picked up over the course of his long life, and Fahim could easily lose himself in the rich knowledge for weeks. Unfortunately Hohenheim doesn’t appear to have any kind of shelving or filing system, with everything scattered pell mell and stuffed in wherever there’s room for it. 

“If you think this is bad, you should see the basement,” Al says in an exaggerated stage whisper.

Hohenheim either doesn’t hear the comment or chooses to ignore it, welcoming Fahim into his domain. His Ishvalan is oddly accented and archaic, obviously learned a couple of centuries ago, but it’s perfectly understandable, and Fahim explains the conclusions he’s come to regarding Amestris’s alchemy - and what can be done to counteract it. 

If all of Amestris is a giant alchemic transmutation circle, with the potential for the alchemy within it to be nullified, then an alkahestry array covering the same points would surely be able to neutralise it, not relying on tectonic energy.

Hohenheim agrees, and he’s very excited about the fact, as if Fahim has brought him the missing piece of a puzzle that he hadn’t entirely realised was missing a piece yet.

When the rest of the alchemists turn up later, they’re all just as happy about it. They spend what feels like hours talking about alkahestry and the hybrid cross of both forms that Fahim has invented and uses to amalgamate the best of both worlds. They’re all scholars at heart, all of them wanting to learn as much as they possibly can about this ancient art, all of them wanting to use it to make a difference in the world so that the mistakes of the past will not be repeated. They completely understand his enthusiasm for the craft. 

The hard resentment is still there. It will never go away. This tentative alliance cannot change what’s passed, and nor should it, but it’s a step in the right direction towards a better future, and it’s the future that Fahim cares about the most.