#Chapter 23

[manga-meow]

[totallycynically]

Haymitch sending Katniss and Peeta silverware and plates with their food in the arena... he's never going to let the world forget his sister

[saffusthings]

second chances

mob boss! lando norris x reader

part twenty-three: all the stars

word count: 2.1k (feels shorter tho?)

warnings: dialogue heavy, messy switching of povs

twenty-two | twenty-three | twenty-four

The library was nearly empty at this hour, save for the quiet hum of the air conditioning and the occasional shuffling of pages from someone studying just as late as they were.

Lando leaned back in his chair, twirling a pen between his fingers, watching as she… folded a tiny paper star? 

He narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t look like studying.”

She sighed dramatically, pressing the crease into the paper with a little too much force. “I can’t study anymore. My brain is fried. Done. Over. That’s it. It’s rejecting all new information.”

Lando exhaled through his nose, staring at the textbook open in front of them. They’d been at this for hours—practicing logic games, running through sample arguments, dissecting the intricacies of contracts and torts. She was good, but she was tired.

And when she got tired, apparently, she made little paper... thingamajigs?

Her head lolled onto her folded arms, barely upright at this point, eyes unfocused as she stared at the open prep book in front of her.

“Okay,” he said, flipping a page. “Logical reasoning. Let’s try one more.”

She groaned, voice muffled against her sleeve. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Noooo.”

“Yes.”

“Liam,” she lifted her head, fixing him with a mildly-impressive threatening stare, “I swear to God, I could not tell you the difference between a necessary and sufficient assumption right now if my life depended on it. Like, gun to my head? Not happening.”

Lando blinked, looking at her seriously. “Your life does not depend on it.”

“Exactly,” she declared, tossing down her highlighter. “So I’m making stars instead.”

She reached for the strips of paper she’d been folding absentmindedly for the last ten or so minutes, fingers deftly creasing them into small, perfect origami stars. The table was already littered with them, tiny constellations of her boredom.

Lando leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching her work with a bemused expression.

“I didn’t know you were so easily defeated.”

She shot him a glare. “I’m not defeated. I’m… on strike.”

“Against?”

“My own brain.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Great. Can’t wait to see you argue that in court one day.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, fingers still working on another star.

Liam stared at her for a moment too long, seeming very judgmental for someone who did not have to do the actual studying part. He narrowed his eyes. “You’re serious?”

She didn’t even look up. “Liam, I cannot study anymore.”

“You said that half an hour ago, and yet, we are still here.”

“I know, and that was the last time I could study. My brain is at maximum capacity. I have reached the limit of human intellectual absorption.” She held up a tiny, folded star between her fingers, as if to prove her point.

Lando sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He should tell her to keep going. Should remind her that this test was important, that she couldn’t afford to slack off now. But she looked tired, and he wasn’t a monster.

“…At least make me one,” he said, nodding toward the paper scraps.

Her head snapped up, eyes suspicious but there was a glimmer of excitement there too if Lando looked hard enough. “You want an origami star?”

He shrugged. “Eh, might as well.”

For a second, she just stared at him, like she was trying to figure out if he was messing with her. But then she grinned—small, genuine, and earnest. Lando wondered what other things caused her eyes to light up like that, what simple pleasures had her glittering with this pure kind of joy.

He leaned forward, interrupting her space by plucking a finished star from the pile and examining it between his fingers. “So… is this, like, normal or whatever? Or is there a cure–”

She gasped, appalled. “Oh, shut up! I just needed to do something with my hands that wasn’t writing or highlighting or underlining—”

Lando flicked the tiny star at her forehead.

She gasped. “Liam!”

“You were talkin’ too much,” he said, leaning back in his chair, smirking. “Consider it a tactical disruption.”

She huffed, flicking one right back at him. It hit him squarely in the chest. Once a concerning number of them were sufficiently scattered about their work table, he reached over and picked one up, inspecting the delicate folds.

“Should I be worried that you can make, like, fifty of these in under five minutes?”

“It’s a completely normal coping mechanism.” She started another one, hands moving on autopilot. “Some people take smoke breaks. I make stars.”

He raised a brow. “Not sure that’s the best analogy.”

She grimaced apologetically, realizing her mistake. Liam had been extra grumpy after recently quitting, despite the fact that he claimed not to smoke in the first place. Even though it resulted in his car smelling nicer, it apparently was still a touchy subject. She shot him an apologetic look before turning back and placing another finished star in a neat little row beside the others.

Lando sighed, running a hand down his face. He should probably tell her to keep studying, but—screw it. She’d worked her ass off. If she needed a break, she needed a break.

He appeared lost in some deep thought, so he caught her off guard when he reached for another piece of scrap paper and attempted to fold his own.

“Wait, are you—”

“Shut up. I’m concentrating.”

She leaned in, curious, watching as he fumbled through the folds. By the time he finished, his “star” looked more like a crumpled piece of trash than anything else. He scowled, huffing as he flipped it over. “I changed my mind. This is stupid.”

There was a beat of silence. And then she burst out laughing.

“Wow,” she wheezed, wiping at her eyes. “That’s horrific.”

She exhaled determinedly and pushed her books away, flexing her fingers like they ached from all the writing. Then, casually, she slid a few extra strips of paper toward him. “Want another try? I can teach you.”

He frowned at the offering. “Nah, I don’t do crafts.”

“Oh, come on. Please?” She gave him a playful nudge with her foot under the table. “Don’t be lame. It’s easy, just fold here—”

She reached over, her hand grazing hers as she tried to guide the paper through the first few folds. When the instructions became too confusing, she decided that they would attempt visual learning instead. Reaching closer to the half-complete star in front of him she gently took his hand in hers as she led him through the final tucks and indentations, leaving behind with a half decent star. It was a little lopsided, but a star nonetheless.

His star.

He had turned to look at her as soon as her hand made contact with his, caught off guard by the feeling of her delicate hands resting briefly against his calloused ones. Her hair had  untucked itself from behind her ear, curtaining her face away from view momentarily. It was only a split second before she fixed it, absentmindedly tucking her back as she’d likely done thousands of times before.

She continued with her explaining and rambling as she focused completely on what she was doing, Lando couldn’t bring himself to follow suit. It was strange, inexplicable – after the split second that her hair had covered her face, Lando suddenly saw her in an entirely different light. Still fixated on her, he barely breathed. It was such a simple thing, barely a touch at all, but for some reason, his body had the nerve to register it like it scalded him, but in a sort of pleasant way.

His skin burned but he didn’t seem to mind, lost in trance while she was focused elsewhere, something about ensuring they did the right number of folds so they could have adequate paper for a neat final tuck.

Makes them cuter, she’d explained.

Lando Norris didn’t know a damn thing about origami or stars. Yet he’d never been paying more attention to something so inconsequential as he did right then. Suddenly, he was struck with the idiotic idea to unravel the star they’d made, just so they could do it all over again.

When she looked at him proudly, he cleared his throat, pulling his hand back before he could think too much about it. “You seem to be quite the expert. Think I’ll leave the paper artistry t’you.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, and he ignored the way that smile did something weird to his chest. The library stayed quiet after that, save for the sound of her folding tiny stars and him watching the way the light made them glow in her hands.

A few days later, they were crammed in his car outside the testing center, and she was flipping through well-worn flashcards like her life depended on it. She chewed her bottom lip raw, flipping through them with a frantic energy he hadn’t seen in all the time he’d come to know her.

"Alright, last one," she muttered, holding up a card. "If a contract is formed under duress—"

"It's voidable at the discretion of the coerced party," he answered.

She blinked. "You got that right."

"Obviously?” he questioned, pretending to be offended. ”I do pay attention, y’know."

She stared at the card for another second, then groaned, dropping it back onto the larger stack. "Okay. I think I'm gonna throw up."

"Don't do that," he said. "S’bad for morale. Also, I happen t’like this car. Just got it clean, too–"

"Liam."

When she glared at him, she looked like she hadn’t decided yet whether to cry or throw up. Lando can’t imagine giving some stack of papers that much power. 

What’s a score, anyway? Scores could be bought, extorted, bartered or bargained for–

He cut himself off before that line of thought could go any further. It was simply instinct, unfortunately. “Hey,” he reached over, plucking the papers right out of her hands. “You know this stuff.”

She didn’t even try to get them back from him, which should’ve been a sign to take this more seriously. But he noticed the way she fiddled with her fingers, pushing and pressing at her cuticles like it’d sooth her somehow. “This is the admissions test. For law school. What if I don’t?” she blurted.

“You do.” He was still laughing as he rolled his eyes.

She huffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t know that.”

Lando raised a brow. “I do, actually. I’ve been here every night watching you make flashcards and rewrite your notes and—look, if you weren’t already going to ace this, I’d just pay off the testing center.”

She blinked.

He tapped the steering wheel, as if actually considering it. “Or the admissions officer. Or the licensing board, now that I think about it—” His grin widened at her visible annoyance.

Why wasn’t he taking this seriously?

“Liam,” she groaned, shoving his shoulder.

He grinned but softened slightly, letting his voice drop. He turned to face her, and Y/N could practically feel her cheeks burning simply at the intensity of his gaze. Something about Liam always projected, confidence, strength, surety. 

Sometimes she wished she could be as sure as he was. 

But now, bearing the full weight of his gaze and being the sole object of his undivided attention, it felt almost like her heart was stuck in her throat. There was something about those green-gold irises that made Y/N feel like he could see all of her, like he could see right through her.

It made her pulse flutter with something foreign.

“Hey.” His voice was a near-whisper. The familiar smirk flickered, but his eyes held her captive. He gently nudged her chin, tilting her face up so she couldn't look away. "You're going to be perfect. Go out there and make me proud, yeah?"

Y/N was momentarily speechless. His touch, the way he held her in his gaze, left her breathless. She nodded, too caught in the intensity of the moment to form words. A strange mixture of fear and fascination swirled inside her as she exhaled, tension slipping from her shoulders.

“You’re the best,” she said before instinctively reaching out, squeezing his hand for half a second before quickly pulling away.

It was a fleeting gesture—a brief press of warmth—but it sent a shock up his spine, something lingering on his skin, even as she grabbed her bag and stepped out of the car, heading toward the entrance.

He watched her go, his fingers curling into a loose fist.

…Right. 

Time to lock that away and never open it again.

a/n: oh my clueless little babies. oh they're so cute!

[every-sebastian-michaelis]

[donnovien]

"We waited until he passed, then retrieved the body and moved on to the next attraction."

"Y-You watched A-squad die? Are you insane, Lee Jaheon? How are you going to take responsibility for this loss?!"

"? I'm D-squad's leader. A-squad is not my responsibility."

[a-forbidden-detective]

Anime vs Manga. Love that Toto looked at Amamiya first gauging her reaction and probably looking for signs if she guessed their trick. And Toto unceremoniously crossing the fence with that cute gesture.

[plantcomic]

first ll prev ll next

Happy easter, have a surprise update bc I really really really want to get into inking the next chapter hahaaah. Also end of chapter 23! This was another of those litte story nuggets/conversations I've been rewriting ferwently for months.. their pen pal cluster........ I used to call them orchids, but their fae and flower mix was very similar to Varpu's cluster.

[deathnotewiki]

April 18, 2004:

The Second Kira’s video is broadcast by Sakura TV; Kazuhiko Hibima and others are killed.

Investigator Ukita is killed by the power of the Second Kira’s Death Note.

Soichiro Yagami crashes an armored truck into Sakura TV.

[hisokapanels]

102 - Volume 3, Chapter 23

[every-black-butler-food]

[violentdelightshavevioletends]

Deverelli Silk

Through the course of the books “Fourth Wing fashion” & Riorgail sentimentality…

"The dress is spectacular. What kind of material is this?" I ask Zara, fingering the sheer black fabric that falls from my waist to the floor in a multitude of layers. Were it just the one, the gown would be see-through.

"It's Deverelli silk," Zara says. "So fine it's nearly transparent."

"From the isle?" It's softer than any fabric I've ever touched. "You still trade with them?" Navarre hasn't in centuries.

Everywhere I look, there's a purchase being haggled over, a fruit I've never tasted, a flower I've never smelled, a bird I've never heard. It's a sensory feast, and I consume it like a starved woman.

"Anyone feel like our home is a completely dreary shithole?" Ridoc asks as traffic pauses us outside a cloth merchant, and I find myself staring at a bolt of shimmering black silk so diaphanous it's almost silver.

It wouldn't last a day against the dragon-scale armor currently covering my torso.

Xaden strides through the cloth merchant's door with Dain, tucking a black velvet pouch into the front left pocket of his uniform as he comes down the three stone steps.

I glance down at the package Jesinia handed me the day before yesterday. It's right where I left it on the sill, one end undone. At the opening of the paper, the edges of a delicate Deverelli silk nightgown and robe spill out with a handwritten note.

For the nights I can't sleep next to you. — X

My chest clenches just like it did when I opened it. He'd somehow seen me eyeing the fabric in Deverelli, bought it, then placed the order to have it made before we left to search the other isles.

I tug the perpetually slipping strap of my Deverelli silk nightdress back up my shoulder and flip the page in Tecarus's book.

Someone knocks at my bedroom door.

This gown is practically see-through, so l grab a robe from the armoire on my way.

Glittering onyx taps against my shields a breath away from the threshold, and I abandon the robe's tie to yank open the door. My heartbeat stutters, then flies.

"Are you wearing..." He lifts a hand toward me, then pulls it back, clenching his fist.

"The nightdress you had made for me? Yes.

Don't get distracted. What circumstances?" I repeat.

"Not distracted. Obsessed. You look..." His eyes darken as he studies my curves like he's never seen them.

"That dress…" His gaze sweeps over me and heats with an intensity that makes my cheeks flush, my pulse race. "You're playing dirty, Violence."

But why is he headed for me when the obvious choice is the woman in red just a few feet away?

"I'm still really damned angry with you." I lift my chin, just as furious with myself for getting into this position, for feeling whatever all this bullshit is.

"Feeling is mutual." He slides one hand into my hair, then sucks a breath through his teeth when his fingers meet skin at the base of my spine. "But it's possible to be angry while still madly, wildly, uncontrollably in love with me."

[boonalina]

LMK Successor AU chap 23 excerpt

Lotus and the Moon

This is the part where Macaque teleported Nezha out of there and rushed to catch him.

Nezha's wrists are bruised from when Wukong was squeezing them.

[paynomindtotheinsanity]

“You don’t, uh, wanna go to the room or something?”

“No, I like you here.”

Wip of some upcoming spice ✨

[every-sebastian-michaelis]

[incorrect-fnaf-quotes]

Rabbit Restoration Project: |23|

He strained to get the suit's eyes to open, and upon succeeding, the rabbit was met with a familiar, dim room. There was only silence filling the room, and it felt unbreakable.

All of the arcade machines scattered around, in varying states of disrepair, were all unplugged. However, that didn't seem to stop a select few from doing something.

Two were only displaying static--but every minute or so, they would give him a glimpse of what the actual game was supposed to be. But from where he lay, he didn't get the greatest look.

Two others were fully displaying their respective games--but neither were simply on the title screen. Instead, both were in the middle of a playthrough--the little characters hurrying around.

In front of Springtrap, he noticed, how little water droplets kept forming and falling. It seemed never-ending--as did the puddle on the ground. It looked as if it were spreading, but hadn't yet reached him.

Here? I'm here again?! A hiss of distress exited the rabbit--just ever so slightly, but just like everything else in the wretched room, everything went unheard--like someone wouldn't press 'unmute'.

He shot an arm upwards, to try and grab onto the wall for some kind of support--but that was right when it struck him. Multiple, hard waves of pain crashed atop Springtrap, and he howled in pain.

The rabbit's eyes went wide, and his other fist clenched, sucking in a breath--only for all three of those new actions to cause even more waves to collapse all over him.

It could have been waiting for the perfect time to strike.

Arm collapsing immediately to the side, Springtrap only laid there, staring at the other wall across the room. This... cannot be happening!

__

You stared up at the ceiling, shivering slightly as the fan connected continued to spin around, but you didn't quite feel like going and turning it off.

The events from today, along with the days prior, were rushing around your mind in a repeated circle. Some of them would start to stray, only for something to pull them right back into place.

Nobody else was even aware of what was inside? You twisted around on the bed--the previous position not being that comfortable, but the next one... felt rather worse. I was really the first?

The fan above continued to spin away, and its light source briefly flickered once, and then twice. But I didn't even mean to figure out, anyways. It was an accident. I only wanted to help him back up.

If that hadn't happened, when would I have figured out? Just... whenever? After a few more days or weeks? Raising a hand, you began to fiddle with the edge of the glove. I did plan on working on the mask.

Whatever. Just... it's already happened. Removing the glove, you held it up, and began to try and stretch it. The rest of the day should be calm. I'll try to deal with tomorrow when it comes.

--

Holding in what little real breath he had, Springtrap forced himself into a standing position, hand immediately reaching for the wall again. There had never been much stored inside.

His action didn't do anything to help with the pain, but that wasn't what he had been expecting it to do, anyways. New pain was squeezed out with ease in every little opening, suffocating him.

He yowled and shut his eyes. The springlocks wouldn't stop digging in further--further than Springtrap had assumed that most of them were capable of going prior.

A few of them seemed to almost take enjoyment in not remaining in one place. They had already been activated, but Springtrap could feel a select few rapidly digging themselves in, and then back out.

Something wet was seeping through most of the suit, but Springtrap didn't bother to try and check it out--he already knew what it had to be. There weren't many other possibilities, either.

Snapping his eyes back open, a desperate wheeze tried to fill the room, as he prepared himself for only a second, before propelling himself forward.

I did not get freed after thirty years just to be returned! The springlocks kept going and going, and the pain seemed to spike--but Springtrap could barely tell. At any point, it could have already been at its worst.

He kept stumbling forwards, nearly collapsing onto the floor more times than he could count in the moment. But he kept going. His destination was the door. The rabbit couldn't stop.

The outline of it in his blurry vision could just barely be recognized, and if not for all of the boards--which certainly assisted him--Springtrap assumed he would go to the wrong spot.

Inching himself a little closer to the wall, Springtrap stretched his hand out again, gripping at the wall. I'll get out of here. I'll get out of here... I will.

His body froze when the hand brushed against wood, and Springtrap spun his head around a little too quickly--as the springlocks seemed to enjoy jostling around, and hurriedly digging themselves in further.

A low cry emitted from the rabbit from the rabbit, before he tried his best in refocusing on the door before him. The door that would lead to his freedom.

Springtrap went with the first action to cross his screaming mind: slowly raising a foot, and proceeding to kick at the old door.

--

Stepping out of the bedroom with a deep sigh following, you made your way towards the kitchen. I guess I could have the rest of the pizza. Did he... wear gloves or anything?

A frown started to form on your face, but then your body shrugged. The other slices didn't taste horrible or anything. He could have prepared himself. I only saw when he was finished.

Making way through the house, you would have simply reached the kitchen, taken a couple of the slices, and then hurry back to the bedroom... but something caught your ears.

It was the familiar, raspy breathing of Springtrap--but compared to a lot of other moments around the rabbit, it seemed slow enough. An average heartbeat accompanied it.

Is he sleeping again? A part of you was tempted to head over to where the rabbit was--the breathing might have originated from the living room, but... you were still hungry.

I'll let him sleep. I just want those slices. Shaking your head, and spinning back around, you finished the walk into the little kitchen, where the pan with the slices was still waiting. He's probably comfortable.

Picking up one of the slices, you took a massive bite.

__

With one final kick, Springtrap hissed and groaned, collapsing forward onto his knees, his body shaking quite hard, he realized after a moment. It was like a phone that wouldn't stop buzzing.

I can't stay in here. I can't stay in here again. I can't stay in here again. I need to get out. Get out! Out! The rabbit's mind frantically screeched, the break not being found.

Springtrap tried to rise back up, but it only lasted for a split second--enough that the rabbit hadn't actually been certain that it was something that had truly happened.

"Let..." Springtrap gargled, "me... out!"

His hands sprung towards the door--one scratching, and the other pounding at it.

--

The heartbeat and breathing had noticeably quickened--and, now, it was beginning to be accompanied by a loud, repetitive thud. You frowned, dropping the slice back onto the pan.

Of course, the noises... you could still recall the event as to when they had first been heard. "Uh-oh." Is he having another nightmare? The last time that it was all so fast...

Hurrying out of the kitchen, and into the living room, you caught sight of Springtrap laying across the cross. His eyes were completely shut now, but you had to assume that the rabbit's eyes had dimmed.

With how he happened to be laying, one of his feet was frequently extending, and kicking at the other arm of the couch, causing it to briefly shake and shudder.

Similarly to the moment back in the car, his hands made quick, clawing motions at nothing. A part of you worried that, if you bent down, and got in his way, the rabbit would hit you.

Getting hit by metal wouldn't be any fun... You inched a little closer to the fallen rabbit--standing close to where his head lay--and where his arms didn't seem to be going.

Come on. Come on... I can't wait for him to wake up on his own. You glanced around. I know everything's been... strange, but I've got to wake him up. But the last time... I didn't do great.

Just try something. Just try something. Um... Hesitantly, you reached down, placing a hand on the side of Springtrap's face, and giving him a pat.

--

He kept scratching and pounding. Scratching and pounding. Scratching and pounding. But no matter how long he did it, or any of the different ways that were being attempted, no progress was made.

"Let... me... out! Let me out!"

Springtrap's fingers twitched and shook against the door. It almost felt as if it were mocking him. He was at the door... and there had to be a way to get out--but it wasn't allowing him that.

All of his attempts were resulting in failures. Again. Again. Again.

Trying to rise again--in the hopes of trying one last thing--something broke through the thick silence: a voice. A familiar one, at that.

"Springtrap...?" The voice came off as unsure, but at the very least, there seemed to be an attempt at sounding comforting.

He uttered your name.

"I... I know you might be scared, right?" The voice continued. "You might be, even if you don't say that. And... I understand, I can. Experiencing things like this... it's not fun."

Springtrap's ears twitched. The voice didn't seem to be coming from any one area--instead, it was echoing all throughout, it felt like.

"I'm not sure what really happened the last time, and I'm not even sure what's happening right now... I can't visit you in your dreams." The voice hummed, getting a little quieter.

"But whatever is happening, it's okay. You're alright, I... promise. Wherever you are, it's okay. You're fine. You're with me, remember? I'd say that's a nice place."

Springtrap let out a deep, slow breath, and found his body beginning to try and relax.

"You don't have to be in that other place. I doubt you want to. Can you try to wake up? You'll be back in the house." The voice added.

"You won't be alone when it happens."

Springtrap's eyes shut.

.

..

Springtrap bolted upwards, letting out a strained groan, and you took your hand off of him, before taking a few steps back. But if you wanted to, he was close enough to still touch.

"Springtrap?" You stared.

For just a few seconds, his eyes darted around, but you watched as his body relaxed as much as it possibly could as the rabbit took in all of the surroundings.

Then, the rabbit's eyes met yours.

"Um... hey," A tiny smile found itself forming. "Good to see that you did wake up." Was that good? Was that better? I'm not really sure, honestly. A sigh escaped.

"Do you maybe want to talk about it...? It's happened twice now. But I can understand if that's not what you want." You questioned the old rabbit.

Rather than answer the question--or simply ignoring it, and choosing to bring something else up--the action that Springtrap took after a moment was one that surprised you.

He reached forward, seemingly hesitant, and perhaps debating it in his calming mind--before going through with it. Springtrap pulled you closer, and wrapped his arms around your body.

Slowly, you blinked, before wrapping your own arms around him. Wow...

"Thank you... again. I'm not... I'm not quite certain how long that that would have gone on for." Springtrap muttered, clearing his throat.

Although the rabbit wouldn't be able to see it, your response was a quick thumbs up. Okay. Okay, this is good. ...But probably not a good time to tell him about some of my plans, right?

Shaking your head, you leaned a little further into his touch.

@mcfries123 @ravenmccookies @spaciebabie

[graciereadshannigram]

i just love struggling with one chapter for over 3 weeks and then the next chapter flows outta me over the course of 8 hours like i'm transcribing an event as i watch it happen.