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five-rivers · 3 years

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Stars Aligned Chapter 3

(Please do not ask when the next chapter will be, I do not know. Links to AO3/FFN will be included in reblog.)

Here’s the thing. The very, very, stupid thing. Despite all his planning for this trip, Danny had no idea what his birth family looked like. Presumably, they also had no idea what he looked like.

As much as Danny would like to blame this on a wizardly aversion to the internet and photographs, he couldn’t. Danny could have sent them a picture of himself through the mail at any time. Even if wizard mail involved owls for some unexplained reason. But he didn’t. Because he was dumb.

And his equally dumb wizard family had also failed to send any pictures.

What were they thinking? Did they assume they’d somehow recognize each other on sight? Was that a wizard thing? Did they expect to spontaneously develop blood-relative telepathy? Was that a thing?

Danny did not know what to expect. He honestly didn’t know enough about wizards.

The end result was that Danny was standing in the middle of the wizarding world’s equivalent of an airport, which involved way more open fires than could possibly be safe, and people stepping into those open fires, which, again, could not possibly be safe. Of course, Danny had done it, as uncomfortable as it was for his core, and anything that used internal combustion was technically also using fire as a means of transportation, so Danny might have been a bit of a hypocrite, but still.

But, back to his dilemma. He, a dumb teenager, could be expected to do dumb, thoughtless things and make easily avoidable mistakes. It was basically a requirement. His actual family, who probably could have realized the error, didn’t want him to go and could be forgiven for any oversight. But dumb wizard birth family had at least one semi-competent adult in it. Supposedly.

Despite himself, his desire to kidnap his brother increased. Even though it would most likely cause an international incident.

He sighed. Maybe he should just follow the crowd and see if anyone stopped him. After all wizards might have magic blood-relative detection something or other.

He trudged along, pulling his trundle suitcase behind him. Silver lining was that whatever happened, he didn’t have to spend hours in a metal tube breathing recycled air. Silver lining. Silver lining. Silver—

Ah. Hm.

Danny blinked at his name written in large letters on a square of poster paper. His first and middle names, that is, and his bio-family’s last name.

He was highlytempted to turn around and go back home, but there was his twin, holding the card and looking fragile and hopeful, standing next to a tall woman with greying black hair.

He sighed. He was doing this, then.

“Hi,” he said, “you must be Draco. I’m Danny. And, uh, you must be Narcissa Malfoy?” He sort of held his hand out, feeling awkward.

“You can call me mother, Deneb,” said Narcissa. She sounded slightly tearful.

“It good to meet you, Deneb. Er. Danny.” Draco’s eyes flitted up to his mother.

“Yeah, um. Please don’t take this the wrong way, Mrs. Malfoy, but I don’t actually know you. And I’ve got a mom.”

“Yet,” interjected Draco. “You don’t know mother yet. That’s what this visit is about, right?”

“Right,” said Danny. “I’m… really looking forward to it.”

Draco looked relieved. “Excellent. Well, then, Looky can get your luggage and we can floo home.”

A very small, rather wizened person stepped out from behind Draco’s legs.

Okay. Danny had questions.

Danny did not particularly care for the answers to his questions.

Draco didn’t know why his twin had stopped talking to him before they’d even gotten home. He had, to some degree, expected rough spots. Merlin knew his family didn’t get along perfectly. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t hoped he and his twin would have a special connection. That they would mesh.

That… wasn’t happening. In fact, this was rather… awkward. Painful, almost.

He thought back to what they had been talking about. He didn’t think he’d said anything particularly objectionable. Had he hit on some chip on the shoulder those squibs had inculcated in him? Well, he thought, rather shamefacedly, he shouldn’t think of them like that. They hadn’t been the ones to abandon Deneb – Danny – just for not being immediately magical.

“Right,” he said, as Danny stepped (jumped, looking slightly disturbed) out of the fire. “Let me show you your room. We’ve had the house elves clean it out.”

Something on Danny’s face went dark, but he visibly controlled himself. “Thank you,” he said. “And, um, thank you, Looky. For your help.”

Draco frowned. He was confused, and he didn’t like feeling confused. He knew muggles didn’t have house elves, of course, but still. The concept wasn’t that hard to understand, was it? Although, it was possible Danny had never come across house elves at all, even second or third hand.

He supposed they might be unsettling if they were the first magical creature one came across. Ugh. He’d never tried to put himself in the position of someone learning about magic for the first time. Why would he? That was mudblood business, and he’d never associate with one of those.

But Danny was in that position, just about.

That meant it was Draco’s job to help Danny understand.

Danny was hoping he was misunderstanding something and that wizards did not, in fact, practice slavery.

This seemed to be a forlorn hope.

“So,” said Draco clasping his hands behind his back in the doorway of ‘Danny’s’ room, “er, house elves. You’ve probably not seen them before.”

“Can’t really say so, no.”

“Probably the first magical creatures you’ve seen.”

“Um,” said Danny. “Also no. I did have to go get a wand and stuff, and you’ve got to go to a wizard town to do that. I saw a bunch of different stuff there.” He didn’t really want to explain the ghosts, but… “Also, my parents study ghosts.”

“You mean, your adopted parents.”

“My parents, yes.”

“I didn’t know squibs could see ghosts. Well, they never seemed to have any trouble with it, so…” He shrugged.

“I… see.”

Danny doubted it, somehow. “But you were saying? About house elves?” Benefit of the doubt, he reminded himself.

“They’re servants,” said Draco. “Magically bound to serve certain families.”

“Magically bound,” repeated Danny, liking this less and less.

“Yes, it’s very old magic. An ancient agreement between our race and theirs, and the individual families and the house elves in question.”

“They can’t, like, opt out or anything?”

“That would defeat the point.”

“Okay,” said Danny. “So… Do they get, you know, paid at all?”

“Of course not,” said Draco.

Danny closed his eyes. “Okay. Um. Draco.” How to put this in a way that wouldn’t immediately alienate him. “Isn’t that slavery?”

“No,” said Draco, immediately. “They want to serve.”

“Well, they might say that to you, but human slaves used to say the same thing, because they’d get in trouble if they didn’t.”

Draco opened his mouth, closed it, and then said, confidently, “It isn’t like that.”

“Are you sure?”

“They aren’t human. They want to do this.”

Danny was no stranger to dealing with inhuman mindsets (but he most definitely did not have one himself). Even so…

“I think my point still stands. Like, are there very many house elves in this situation?”

“I don’t know,” said Draco. “I suppose so. Most families of substance and breeding have at least one.”

“Okay. Ah. Look. I’m not even sure where to start with this. Slavery is bad, right? We can agree on that.”

An annoyed expression passed over Draco’s face. “Yes, we can. That’s a given. But that’s for humans—"

“Great. Let’s start there. It’s bad for any human, right? Even, like, no-majs, or stupid humans, or—”

“Muggles,” corrected Draco. “No-maj is the American term.”

“When in Rome, I guess, sure. Muggles, then.”

“Yeah,” said Draco, uncomfortably crossing his arms.

Oh, Ancients, there was something there. Which Danny should have expected, given his birth father, whom he had yet to meet, threw him out of the house literally at birth.

Wizard supremacist weirdos corrupting his poor twin brother.

“Then what makes house elves so different?”

“Like I said, they want to do this. It’s in their nature. You wouldn’t, I don’t know, decide a dog was unhealthy because it barked instead of meowed, would you?” He spread his hands in frustration.

“I’ll give you that, but Looky looked actively afraid of you. And what was she even dressed in? That can’t be comfortable.”

“Giving them real clothes would free them – only if it’s their master, which in this case is Father.” He shifted slightly. “Except for Looky, I suppose, who is technicallymine. Great Aunt—Oh, you won’t know her. Why do you even care?”

“Why do I care about other people suffering? But otherthan that, what’s the difference between a house elf and a human servant? Like, would you treat a human servant like that? If you were a servant, wouldn’t you want to be treated with respect, even if being a servant was all you’d ever wanted?”

“But I’m not a servant.”

“But if you were. Can’t you just try to imagine it? A little? Please?”

“I… fine. But don’t bring this up to Mother and Father. They wouldn’t be pleased.”

“Okay. Deal.”

“Deal,” agreed Draco. “So. Do you like your room?”

Danny looked around. “Yeah, actually. It’s nice. Bit different from what I have at home, but, yeah. Good, um. Good floors. And wallpaper. And, um. Do all wizard paintings move like that?” He genuinely hadn’t noticed until just now, intent on the house elf problem.

“Yeah,” said Draco, seemingly relieved at the more normal topic. “It’s an enchantment on the canvas and paint.”

“Seems like it’d be hard to work with,” observed Danny.

“Well, the spell isn’t finished until after the actual painting part is done. At least, that’s my understanding.”

“I see, that would be easier.”

Silence.

“Would you like to see the peacocks?”

“Sure, why not?”

It took a bit of time to get bundled up in coats (cloaks in Draco’s case) because it was cold outside, but once they did…

“Wow. They’re albino peacocks.”

“Yes.”

“Wild.”

“No, they’re quite tame.”

“Oh, it’s, um, it’s an idiom. Like cool. Or wicked, I guess? Do British people use that?”

“I’ve heard some people use it. But Mother and Father are… not particularly enamored of slang.”

“Right,” said Danny. “I’ll remember that.”

They continued walking through the garden, towards the pond. Danny tried not to dwell on how much labor it would take to keep the grounds here so pristine.

“What do you do for fun in America?” asked Draco, out of nowhere.

Danny blinked. “Different people do different things,” he said. “Uh, a lot of things I usually do won’t work here because of the whole magic and electricity not getting along well thing. Have you ever heard about video games?”

“No,” said Draco. “Is it anything like quidditch?”

“I have only the loosest of understandings of what that is. It’s that broom sport, right? The one where you fly?”

Draco looked scandalized. “… Yes,” he said, finally. “I’m going to have to teach you how to use a broom before you have to go back to America.”

“The flying type of broom?” asked Danny, teasingly. Sure, he already could fly, but whatever.

“Merlin, yes.” Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m part of my house’s quidditch team. Letting you leave without some understanding of the rules would be a crime.”

“Draco, are you a jock?” asked Danny. “What is this world coming to. Related to a jock.” He shook his head dramatically. “I’ll never live it down.”

Draco nudged him slightly. “I’m not a meathead beater, at least,” he said. “I’m the team seeker.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

Draco’s smile slowly slid off his face.

“What?” said Danny.

“It’s just… you should. You should have grown up here, with family, as part of this world.”

“I did grow up with family,” said Danny. “Just not direct blood relatives. It kind of sucks that we didn’t get the chance to grow up together, but, like, I’m not really impressedby your parents so far.”

“Mother was very upset when she heard what Father did.”

“Sure, but she also kind of ditched us as soon as we got back here.”

“She has a delicate constitution? I’m sure she’s just trying to decide how to act… giving you space to make you feel more comfortable?”

Danny shrugged. “Well, we’ll see what happens. I’m going to be here until the end of the break, after all.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to Hogwarts, just for the rest of the school year? I’m sure they’ll be better than any alternative in America, when it comes to catching you up. Father has friends on the board of governors and the Ministry Department of Educational Oversight. It would be easy for you to go.”

“My friends are all back home,” said Danny, “and magic or not, what I really want to do with my life is become an astronaut, and I need ‘muggle’ grades and school for that.”

“A what now?”

“An astronaut?”

Surely, Draco had just misheard him.

“Is that some sort of muggle thing, then?”

“I- Do you not know what an astronaut is?” asked Danny, flabbergasted. “Really?”

Draco’s eyebrows were furrowed. “No, I don’t.”

“How about cosmonauts? Do you know about them?”

“No,” said Draco. “Is this related to the Argonauts, somehow? That Greek thing?”

“No,” said Danny. “I mean, the root word – But no. Not the same thing at all. How do I even… Do you know what outer space is?”

“Astronomy is a class at Hogwarts.”

“Not a very good one,” said Danny, “if you don’t know what an astronaut is. I think I’d die.”

“It’s a very good class. Hogwarts is the best wizarding school in Europe. And I know what outer space is. It’s the space up above the atmosphere, where the planets and stars are, and stuff.”

“Okay. I mean. I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything,” reassured Danny, sensing that he had ruffled some feathers. “I’m just… an astronomy class should teach about astronauts. Astronauts are people who’ve been to space. Outer space.”

“That’s rubbish,” said Draco. “You can’t go to space.”

Danny refrained from informing Draco that he had, in fact, been to space. “Well, I want to go to space,” said Danny, “and other people have been there.”

“No one’s been to space,” said Draco. “Unless maybe someone apparated there by mistake, but how would you even do that?”

“I don’t know what apparating is,” said Danny. “Some kind of teleportation?”

Both of them stared at each other, each one probably at a loss for words regarding the other’s ignorance of things they themselves considered common knowledge.

“Yeah, more or less,” said Draco, finally. “But you can’t get to space. It’s impossible.”

“It isn’t. There are people up there right now,” said Danny. “On the International Space Station. Which is… it’s sort of a little house. In space.”

“There’s no air up there.”

“They bring the air with them.”

“Wouldn’t it explode?”

“They figured out how to make it so it wouldn’t explode. It’s very, um. Sturdy. Rigid. The space station is airtight.”

“And you’re saying that there are muggles in it. In space. Outer space. Right now.”

“As we speak. I mean, I guess some of them could be secret wizards, but considering your reaction, I’m doubting it.”

“Muggles. In space.”

“Yeah. We made it to the moon, too. But that was—”

“The moon?”

“Yeah?”

“In the sky?”

“That, uh.” He looked up, as if expecting to see the moon despite the thick cloud cover. “Yeah. The moon.”

“You’re telling me,” said Draco, in a hushed voice, “that there are muggles on the moon. Right now. As we speak.”

“No, that was before we were born,” said Danny.

“What.”

“Yeah, some people went, but it was really expensive, so they haven’t been back. Which I think is silly, because can you imagine the scientific advancements we could have made? The resources we could have brought back?”

“The moon.”

“You seem really hung up on this. Are you okay?”

“You- That- The moon. And muggles in space?”

“Yeah,” said Danny. He rubbed the back of his neck. “So, you see why I need to go back. I’m sure Hogwarts is great and all, but I really want to be an astronaut.”

“Can you see them through a telescope?”

“See what?”

“The muggles in space.”

“On a clear night, sure, if you know where to look.” Before the Accident (the Big One, the Unaliving, the Green Flash, the Knockoff Origin Story), Danny usually checked the internet for the times the ISS passed overhead. But he’d developed a ghost power that gave him a pretty good sense of where anything in the sky was, so long as he concentrated for a few minutes. “It orbits the Earth every ninety minutes or so, although it doesn’t always catch the light enough to see properly. You can actually see a lot of satellites.”

“There are more of these things?” hissed Draco.

“Not with people on them.”

“I’m getting my telescope,” declared Draco, starting to stride back to the house.

“We won’t be able to see anything now,” said Danny.

“It’s enchanted to see through cloud cover and ignore non-reflected sunlight. It’s top of the line.”

Danny had never wanted a physical object so much in his entire life.

“What? What? Magic can do that?”

#danny phantom #stars aligned #dp/hp crossover #dp/hp twin au #fic #fanfic #inspired by ladylynse

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

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Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Kanato Route ー Chapter 3

ー The scene starts on the Carnival’s venue

Kanato: Teddy? Hey...Where are you...? Where have you gone, Teddy!?

Yui: Haah...Haah...Teddyーー!

( It’s good we came looking for Teddy ever since he went missing from the dress shop but... )

( Will we truly find him...? )

Kanato: Uu...Teddy...Why...? Where are you!?

Teddy, come on...Show yourself...

Yui: ( Kanato-kun’s in total distress as well (1), so we really have no other choice but to look for him right now, do we? )

( But... )

Say, Kanato-kun? Can Teddy walk?

Kanato: Eh...?

Yui: I mean, according to what the shop lady told us earlier, he walked out by himself.

However, I was wondering if he was truly capable of opening the door by himself and just waltzing out....

( Up till now, I’ve only ever seen Kanato-kun carry him around in his arms so I wonder if he can even move by himself? )

Kanato: Are you crazy...?

Yui: ...?

Kanato: Of course he can’t!!

Yui: ...!!

Kanato: What makes you believe Teddy could walk on his own!? Please stop spouting such utter nonsense!!

...Uu...Teddy...Where are you...?

Don’t leave me, Teddy...

Yui: R-Right...I’m sorry, Kanato-kun.

( Anyway, with Kanato-kun’s current state of mind being the way it is, I’ll try and search this area a little longer. )

Ah!?

( That back silhouette...Teddy!? )

Kanato-kun! Look! Isn’t that Teddy?

Kanato: Eh? ...Ah...!

Teddy! It’s me! Teddy...!

Yui: ( ...Teddy’s floating? )

( Anyway, we have to go after him! )

Kanato: Wait, Teddy!

Yui: Ah...Kanato-kun, wait!

ー The two of them chase after Teddy as the scene shifts to Milton’s Doll House

Kanato: Teddy...Teddy...?

Yui: Stay calm, Kanato-kun. I’m pretty sure he went this way...

( As to be expected of the Demon World though. Nobody would bat an eye at the sight of a stuffed animal floating or moving around. )

( This shop...They’ve got a bunch of plushies lined up so I wonder if it’s a toy store? )

( But...When there’s so many dolls and stuffed animals in one place...It’s a little scary. )

*Rustle*

Yui: ( !? ...I could have sworn that doll moved a little just now... )

( Oh no, this place is kind of strange... )

Kanato: Teddy!? Are you here!? Hey, answer me!

...

Eh? ...Why? Why would you say that?

Yui: Eh? Kanato-kun, what are you...?

Kanato: You keep quiet!!

Yui: ...!! S-Sorry...

( Kanato-kun...Is he talking to Teddy perhaps? )

Kanato: Tell me, why are you saying you won’t return to my side?

We’ve been together this whole time...So why?

Yui: ( There’s just no way, right...? I can’t hear anything after all. )

( Besides...Uu, I feel like the dolls are looking our way. This store really is creepy after all! )

Kanato: That’s not true. I would never...think of her as more precious than you, Teddy!

I won’t deny that she belongs to me but...How could I ever compare her to you!?

Okay? So, Teddy...Let’s go back together?

Ah...Wait...!

ー Kanato starts running away

Yui: Ah, Kanato-kun!!

Kanato: Take a look, Yui-san. Here...I can hear Teddy’s voice from here.

Yui: This is...Some sort of entrance?

It looks like a door, but there isn’t a doorknob anywhere...We can’t open it like this.

Kanato: No way...Then how did Teddy go inside!?

Yui: I don’t know that either...

( Besides, it seems highly likely we wouldn’t be able to get back out once inside, so I’m scared... )

Kanato: Hey, Teddy? Are you in there?

I can’t live without you...

*Creaaaaak*

Yui: Eh...?

( The door opened by itself... )

Kanato: ...! You’re in there, aren’t you? Teddy, come out!

Yui: ( I wonder if Kanato-kun’s feelings got through? ...I’m glad. )

( That being said, I wonder why Teddy did all of this? )

( Hm? Something came out...Is this a reaching tool? )

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah!?

Kanato: Yui-san! Watch out!

*Thud*

Yui: ( Kanato-kun...! )

ー Both of them get locked inside the room

Yui: ( We’re...Inside that room? We were pulled in by a great force, I wonder what that was...? How creepy. )

( There’s a bunch of stuffed animals and French dolls lined up...What an impressive number. )

Kanato: Say, where are you...? Ah, Teddy! I finally found you!

ー Kanato runs over to Teddy

Kanato: Why did you leave me without a single warning? ...How could you...

Teddy: ...

Kanato: Eh? This will be your new home from today onwards?

I don’t want you to move to a doll house! I’d be lonely!

Yui: Doll house...?

( This wasn’t a toy store? )

*Rustle*

Yui: Eh...?

( It should be just Kanato-kun and I here...So who tapped my shoulder just now? )

...!?

Rabbit: ...

Yui: ( The rabbit plushie is moving...How...? )

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah!!

Kanato: What’s wrong!?

Yui: Kanato-kun, help me! O-One of the stuffed animals grabbed my arm...!

Kanato: You little...Get your paws off what belongs to me!

ー Kanato shakes off the rabbit doll

Rabbit: ....

Kanato: Are you guys the ones who called Teddy over here as well?

I won’t just let you steal what is mine!

*Rustle*

Rabbit: ...

Kanato: Eh?

You won’t harm us...? Is this...cake?

There’s so many of them as well...? Can I really have them all?

Rabbit: ...

Kanato: I see...Fufu...Thank you very much.

Yui: Kanato-kun, you can understand what the plushies are saying?

Kanato: You can’t hear their voices?

Apparently this doll house is the home of these stuffed animals.

Rabbit: ...

Kanato: The rabbit over there will serve us some tea. See? ...It smells wonderful...

*Pshhhhh*

Yui: ( It does smell nice but... )

Is this safe to drink?

Kanato: Who knows...I wonder. Please test it for me.

Yui: Eh...!?

Selection

→ Have a sip (☾)

Yui: I have to drink it?

Kanato: That’s what I said just now, no? Did you not hear me?

Yui: ( I did but...What should I do? Well, it does smell lovely and looks delicious as well. )

*Cling*

Yui: ( ...Just a sip can’t do much harm, right? )

Nn...

Kanato: Fufu...How is it?

Yui: Delicious...This tea is really good!

Kanato: ...I see. In that case, I shall have a taste as well.

→ Don’t drink it

Yui: No way...I-I can’t drink this.

Kanato: Why not?

Yui: I mean, I don’t know what the doll is saying but it’s a little scary.

Kanato: So you’re straight-up denying them, simply because you can’t communicate?

In other words, you must have been looking at Teddy in a similar way, no?

Yui: Of course not!

Kanato: ...Haah, you are the worst.

Yui: Fine, I’ll drink it! I’ll drink it, okay?

( Here goes nothing...! )

*Cling*

Yui: ( Huh...? It’s delicious... )

Yui: ( In which case, these cakes are probably the real deal as well? They look somewhat fake though. )

Nn...

( Ah, it’s sweet...It’s real cake. Somehow it feels like I’m inside a dream! )

Kanato: Is it good?

Yui: Yeah...It’s delicious. Why don’t you have a taste as well?

Kanato: Yes. That is a fine idea as well, but please look over there.

Yui: ( There’s a small stage in the middle of an area decorated with cute props... )

Is something about to begin?

Kanato: Yes...It seems like the dolls will perform a dance for us.

Yui: A dance?

( Uhm...Those who went on stage are a rabbit, a cat and a duck? )

( Ah, music started playing...Fufu, how cute. )

How very cute, right, Kanato-kun?

Kanato: Yes, exactly. I can tell they are trying to give us a good time.

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: ーー Hm? What’s wrong, Teddy?

Teddy: ...

Kanato: ...Fufu. Yui-san, Teddy is asking you for a dance.

Yui: Eh? Me?

Kanato: Yes, of course. You wouldn’t possibly refuse, right?

Yui: But I’ve never danced before?

Kanato: In that case, I definitely want to see it. Come on, Teddy.

*Rustle*

Yui: Wah...Teddy?

Teddy: ...

Kanato: Please show me your interpretation of a dance. ...Fufu, I’m very much looking forward to this.

Yui: No way...

Kanato: Well then, the song is about to start. Please try your best to avoid utterly humiliating yourself.

Explanation: The player dances to the beat with Teddy. Follow the instructions on the bar at the very top of the screen and press the arrow pointing into the same direction at the right time.

You can play this game in EASY, NORMAL or HARD mode.

Kanato: Heeh...That was quite painful to watch, but I suppose you get a passing grade.

Yui: Really? Thank god...

Kanato: Yes. However, Teddy was a million times better than you.

Please be aware that your performance was nothing to brag about.

Yui: Yes...But, thank you still.

( Uhm...He did sort of compliment me, right? )

Kanato: Oh? What did you guys just say...? You want to see us dance?

I can imagine why you would ask me but...Aah, I see how it is.

You are testing to see what kind of dance I could pull off while dragging my luggage along, no?

Yui: ( Again with the luggage...That really is a horrible way to put it. )

Kanato: What do you say, Yui-san?

Yui: Eh?

Kanato: If you insist on dancing together, I will take it into consideration.

Of course, I will lead you?

Yui: ( Kanato-kun will lead me...I’m honestly a little intrigued now. )

I-I’m counting on you then...

Kanato: Haah...Excuse me?

Yui: Eh?

Kanato: Get down before me and beg for it. I’m sure you’ve seen someone do that before, no?

Yui: ( Ah...I have seen that in movies and such. Uhm, you move one leg to the back and bend your knee, then clutch onto the hem of their trousers... )

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( Yes, this should do the trick, right? )

Kanato: Well, you didn’t have to go as far as to grab my clothes but...

Yui: Eh? Really?

Kanato: Yes...Honestly, you are such a disgrace.

However, well, I suppose it is not half bad as a way to show respect towards your Master.

Well then, Yui-san, your hand, please?

Yui: Yes.

Kanato: ...Move a little closer, please.

Yui: Yes. Uhm, like this?

Kanato, No, more...

Yui: Wah!

Kanato: Fufu...About this much.

Yui: ( When we’re this close...I feel like he might hear my heartbeat. )

Well then, turn please.

Yui: ( T-Turn? Uhm... )

*Rustle*

Kanato: Why do you spin around so vigorously? ...That unrefined touch is truly very fitting of you, and very unsightly.

Yui: ( I was only trying my hardest because I didn’t want to lag behind... )

Kanato: Hmph...

Yui: I’m sorry...

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( Wait, huh? I wonder why Teddy is clinging to my feet? )

Kanato: Teddy, we’re dancing right now. Why would you cling onto her like that?

Teddy: ...

Kanato: We’ll be done in a few minutes, so have some patience, okay?

*Rustle*

Kanato: Eh? What’s wrong, Teddy?

Teddy: ...

Kanato: ...You feel frustrated? Why? Because I’m a better dancer than you?

Please don’t say that. This isn’t a competition, you know?

Teddy: ...

Kanato: Teddy, why would you say such things?

Yui: ( I wonder what’s wrong with Teddy? )

Kanato: ...Please cut it out, Teddy.

First you run off by yourself, then you start saying all of these weird things...

Why are you so set on troubling me?

Why do you keep on rebelling against me!?

Teddy or not, I won’t let that slide!

Yui: ( Kanato-kun... )

*Rumble rumble*

Yui: ( Huh? ...Isn’t this room shaking somewhat? )

( Also, the dolls have stopped moving all of a sudden, now laying across the floor... )

( ...What is happening? )

Kanato-kun, this room is behaving strangely...!

Kanato: You shut up!

Teddy, why do you do this?

Are you trying to cause me trouble? If that’s the case, what’s your reasoning?

Teddy: ...

Kanato: Eh? ...Teddy?

Why would you cry?

Yui: ( He’s wiping his eyes but...I don’t see any tears. )

( However, Kanato-kun can hear Teddy’s voice apparently, so he might actually be crying. )

Teddy: ...

Yui: ( He just stomped his feet against the ground...Could he be angry? )

Kanato: Why are you mad at me? If you keep acting so selfishly, I truly won’t forgive you!

*Rumble rumble*

Yui: ( Another quake...Ah! )

*Shatter*

*Splash*

Kanato: ...!! Yui-san, come here!

ー Kanato pulls her close

*Rustle*

Yui: ...!

Hey, Kanato-kun? What is Teddy saying?

Kanato: I don’t understand either.

But...He’s definitely the one in the wrong here.

Yui: Kanato-kun...

Teddy: ...

ー Teddy moves away

Yui: Ah, Teddy? Say, where are you going?

Kanato: Hold it, Teddy! Yui-san, let’s go after him!

*Rustle*

Yui: W-Wait! Kanato-kun, you’re hurting my hand!

( Teddy left through the door in the blink of an eye. )

( Is this the doll house’s doing? Or maybe...Teddy is the one behind it? )

( I wonder what is causing him to act so defiant towards Kanato-kun...? )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) Yui is rather vague with her words and simply says この調子 or ‘kono choushi’ which means ‘this state’.

← RETURN TO CHAPTER 2

→ PROCEED WITH MAIN STORY [CHAPTER 4]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #1 [W/ AYATO]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #2 [W/ YUMA]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #3 [W/ AZUSA]

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kanato sakamaki #vandead carnival #diabolik lovers translation #vckanatochapter3

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sopxhiea · 4 years

Text

Moirai

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Summary: After the niece finally comes around and visits Alfie, she realises she is in dangerous waters with the biggest shark in the water.

Warnings: Age gap.

The italic text is in a foreign language.

Part 1 | Part 2

“I’m only here to establish and alibi.”

It was doomed from the start.

One didn’t need to have a good eye for this kind of stuff to see that. It was plain as day, if things kept going the way they were, no one would make out if alive or well. Somewhere along the line, things had gotten faster than anyone could have guessed and there were consequences that were not easy to deal with.

But that didn’t matter to you.

You liked broken things. The small vase you kept to yourself after breaking it on your fifth birthday was the proof of that. Things that stood out and were weird seemed natural, like they were easy to interact with, almost. You liked crooked ends and abstract things from the start so you figured this growing interest in the jewish gangster was just another interest of yours.

Although this ‘interest’ could potentially kill you.

He was from one end of the world and you were from the other. It was dangerous to say the least. He was doing business with your uncle but that didn’t mean that your uncle was fond of the man, he was just a little scared with the late rising his people were having around London. There were no guards with you, although you were sure your uncle had someone follow you.

You shrugged the thought away while entering the warehouse. The weather was chilly but there was still sun out, hence the dress you were wearing. The small heels you were wearing clicked gently against the pavement, it was quite a lovely day which almost made you forget that you were walking into the lion’s den.

After the day in your uncle’s office, he was suspicious of something going on between you and the jewish gangster but you’d just told him that he was nice to talk to. That was partly the truth and the part that you left out was the fact that he had invited you to his office and you were probably going to end up on his bed tonight if he played his cards right.

Knocking on the front door once, you heard footsteps from the large twin doors but it took some time before you saw the young lad’s face. It was a surprised Ollie that greeted you. You recognised the lad and gave him a small smile but he already knew you’d be coming around. His boss had ordered everyone to tidy up the place for the lady who’d be visiting and Ollie knew better than to assume it was Miriam.

“May I come in?” you asked, your voice sweet and for a moment Ollie forgot who he was dealing with and nodded eagerly before he led you through a couple corridors.

The warehouse was seemingly busy, a ton of barrels and curious men with wide eyes worked around the space you walked through. There were many hidden rooms and gateways as far as you could tell but you knew Alfie’s infamous bakery was simply a coverup. Ollie stopped in front of a large door before a long sigh left his lips and he knocked on the hard wood.

“In!” came the words from the other side of the door, gruff and grumpy just like the Alfie you had met a couple moons ago.

You barely knew the man but you’d heard plenty on the streets. He was a murderer in the eyes of some: someone with too much blood on their hands whereas some worshipped him. He had a sense of authority in his side of the community which made sense given the power he held.

You were greeted with a busy man as he held his glasses around the bridge of his nose and tried to read the paper before him. He didn’t realise Ollie had someone behind him until he lifted his gaze to meet your shining orbs. His mouth opened for a second but he didn’t say anything and shook his hand to signal Ollie to leave and the lad was quick to do so.

“Nice place you got here.” you said, not waiting for any kind of invitation to sit on the chair in front of his desk. He eyed you as you took of your long coat and revealed an airy dress underneath.

“It took you long enough to see it, eh?” he spoke, amusement swimming in his orbs as he lifted his eyebrows and watched you take off your gloves. You kept eye contact until you were comfortable on the chair.

Your gaze lifted to the office then, it was what you’d expect. Dust was gathering around the shelves filled with papers and books. There were ink stains on some of the folders and the decoration was all made of wood for some reason. Meeting Alfie’s curious yet patient eyes, your gaze dropped on his rings before meeting his blue orbs again.

“Had to make sure you weren’t inviting me here to kill me...” you spoke and he chuckled which made you smile slyly. “..or something of the sort.”

You both knew that was on the cards. It didn’t matter that your uncle had a good business relationship with the men, he could easily start a long line of revenge killings and give your uncle something to do, just because he could.

“Now, why would I fuckin’ do that, eh?” he spoke but it wasn’t a question and he kept on talking. “Yer uncle won’t be giving me an easy time if I end up hurtin’ you, I fuckin’ imagine, yeah.” he said, chuckling at the end of the sentence as a form of agreeing with himself and you let the man be.

He was beating around the bush which was highly unusual. Alfie didn’t do that and it was easy to recognise why. He needed to get his point across quick and waste no time but now he was acting like he had all the time in the world.

“Why am I here, then?” you spoke and he watched your painted lips move. Such a small body could be so dangerous, he thought to himself while your eyes glistened. You could mess him up real good only if you wished for it and Alfie was keen on giving the choice to you.

You know why you’re there but it’s just as fun to wait for his answer.

Unlike the men you’ve been with so far, Alfie happens to be smart. You can tell he reads from the way he speaks so fast, even though most words are mumbled together. The gold on his rings is not only an indication of his wealth but of the history he has behind of the oppression. You recognise the little traits he has, because you have similar ones.

That’s not to say you’re similar to him, if anything you’re a wolf and he’s the lion hunting you down. You’re no sheep, Alfie knows that which is why he’s intrigued. His eyes scan your amused ones before he clears his throat and speaks. You’ll look lovely panting underneath him, he concludes.

“I should ask you the same fuckin’ question, seein’ as it’s my work place you barged in.” he says in one breath but you catch and hold onto each word. This man has things he doesn’t tell anyone and they bother him, you can tell.

You give him a smile but it’s unlike any you’ve given. This smile matches your age and your story, it’s you he sees. “I’m only here to establish and alibi.”

He laughs then. You both know he can kill you right here without anyone knowing for the next hour or so and he would get into trouble for it but that’s not the point, the point is that he could. The man is almost thrice your size and you see the large hands that hold his golden rings intact, he can snap your neck in two if he wants.

But he won’t. Not just yet.

“What about yer uncle’s men, hm?” he asks, hand tugging at his beard as he eyes you. He knows you’re no here to play games.

That’s not correct.

You’re here to play one specific game and that is only if Alfie manages to play his cards to his advantage.

“They think I’m in my friend’s flat around Cambridge.” you speak, as serious as you can be and he doesn’t chuckle in disbelief like he usually would. He believes that, and that works out for you precisely because it is the truth.

“You ain’t here for a cup of tea, lass.” he says, it’s his way of saying that you’re swimming with the big shark and that the waters are very deep and unpredictable.

So what?

“Oh good! I needed you to remind me what I was here for.” you speak, sarcasm evident on your face and Alfie considers pulling a gun on you but he’s hesitant.

Lust and frustration, not a good combination.

He chuckles as your expression. You don’t seem to be clueless but he doesn’t quite know how to go about things as he watches you. You seem fragile yet there’s the slyness of a fox in your eyes.

“Lass.” it’s almost as if he’s hissing but it’s just a low grunt. You just smile.

“Yes?” you speak with a low smile and you know he’s straining himself from doing certain things. You can see the white on his knuckles.

“You ain’t going’ to play safe, eh?” he spoke with a low smile. He wasn’t keen on playing very safe either but having you do it was much more fun.

You just shook your head.

Alfie gathered, you were either too smart for your own good or downright reckless. You watched as he licked his lips, he’d look much better without the beard you thought but the look suited the jewish gangster he was known to be.

“Would you rather have me play safe?” you spoke but before he could answer, you were already continuing your previous questioning. “I don’t think that’s very fun.” you scrunched your face at the last word and smiled afterwards.

Alfie was going to have you whimpering beneath him tonight, he told himself.

“You’re forgettin’ who you are, yeah....” he swallowed but it was not a nervous one. He had been sending you signals to stop if you’d wished to but you were going with full force. “..who your fuckin’ uncle is.”

But you knew who your uncle is, you knew it damn well.

You clicked your tongue first and shook your head second. This man was showing to be even more promising that you’ve thought and it only amused you further. “I don’t forget those things, believe me...”

And you didn’t. It was a dangerous world you lived in, even more so when your uncle was a known gangster. You didn’t loathe in it but it was a mere fact you had to deal with. The two guards you had with you at all times, the threatening looks you were given and the gun you carried in all your purses were the proof of that. There was no helping it.

You chuckled one last time, a childish yet devious smile on your lips while you locked eyes with the man. You didn’t have time to waste and as fun as it was, you didn’t want to spend any more time looking at his face when you knew, for a fact, that he could put his skilled hands into good use.

“Listen, Mr. Solomons...” you spoke with a low smile as his eyes bore into yours. “As much as I love our little banter here, I have about fifteen minutes before the guards start looking for me.” you uncrossed and crossed your legs as he watched, hypnotised.

“Now, would you like to spend that time talking or....” you bit your lip and spoke again, he was doomed from the way he was looking at you.“..doing something more productive?”

--------

“That’s nonsense, uncle.” you sighed, looking around for someone else to speak as your uncle flooded you with questions of his own.

After your little outing escape the other day, the guards did end up looking around for you for a bit. You managed to make it but it had taken you about twenty minutes before they found you and in your uncle’s time, that meant that something had happened.

And something had happened.

Alfie was a good kisser, you gathered. He hadn’t wasted any more time after your question, there was no need to do that anyway. You had gotten a little carried away, to say the least. You had gotten back with flushed cheeks and unevenly buttoned dress when the guards were looking for you but it seemed as though Alfie hadn’t gotten enough.

You hadn’t slept with him yet but he had certainly acquired the taste of you.

“I was strolling around after leaving Sam’s place. I just got lost for a bit, is all.” you said once more to make sure he came around, and he always did.

“You’re sure, dear?” he asked, but that just meant that he already did believe you. He just wanted to make sure that you were on board.

“Yes. I am. It was a mishap and I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” you said sweetly while kissing his cheek and gaining a natural smile from the old man’s lips.

“Alright, then...very well.” he said, voice a little low but you knew the man like the back of your hand and from the way he sat down, you knew he wanted to say something before you left his office. “We’ll be having a gathering, a dinner of sorts...” he spoke, hand gesturing around the air as you looked at his sitting form on the chair.

This was usual. Your uncle was well-liked in the high society around London and he had business dinners with a lot of people. If the invited guests that were business partners, that just meant that your uncle was looking to form an alliance, a strong one at that. It had happened with the greeks and if it meant that a business associate was invited into his own house, it usually meant that your uncle trusted them and wanted to expand certain things in the future.

You knew the drill.

You’d dress nicely and smile to the guests while they made some stupid joke about how young you were and just how fit you’d be for a wife. You’d smile and say you were studying, that usually got them off the hook. You’d be nice and calm with your nice dress and wave appropriately until they went off and you could ride your horse in the dark.

“A new alliance?” you said, voice soft as he looked at you with amused eyes. He had done some very good deals in the last couple of months and it was all because of this one man he had the true pleasure of doing business with.

“Hm, yes.” he spoke, nodding while he went through some papers. You just stood around, waiting for him to speak but he was slow today.

“Who’s the lucky gangster?” you spoke, a smile on your lips as the amusement reached your eyes. He chuckled at your pure silliness before he spoke. You were to behave nicely when the guest arrived and you both knew that.

“The jew.” he said, smiling fondly at you before you forced a smile.

There was only one jew your uncle knew.

---------

Tagging: @clairecrive @parkbearum @sourirez @vetseras @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum

a/n: This is a tad bit late but I have so much to take care of for school i’m going insane. Anyway, i really hope you like it and lemme know what you thought please!! <3

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mxndoscyarika · 4 years

Text

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 1

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink mention

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: I’m so excited for you all to read this story! Special thanks go to Lynn (@mindless--ramblings) for always being so supportive and helping me stay inspired! Ever since I found out Pedro now has two characters named Marcus, I’ve wondered about ways I could connect them in one piece of writing. And this? This is that piece of writing. Moreno won’t be making an appearance in this one, but I hope Pike will make up for that 😉 Enjoy!

Ground floor.

First floor.

Second.

Erin He took a deep breath, thankful that the elevator was empty. She straightened the collar of her shirt as the fourth floor approached. At her side was her government-issued laptop, which she’d picked up from the front desk. Her fingers gripped its edges tightly. This was it. She made it.

The elevator let out a soft ding and opened its doors, revealing a floor of cubicles and conference rooms. Austin sunlight filtered through large windows, illuminating the space alongside the bright fluorescent lights.

She stepped out, searching for the art theft department’s main office. As much as she understood the need for technology specialists across all the FBI’s branches, she never quite grasped why she was placed in the art theft department, of all places. She always thought she’d be in the operational technologies department, developing and maintaining tools for others to use. Though she couldn’t blame them; intellectual property was highly valued and often stolen.

The email said to report to the department supervisor’s office for a quick onboarding, but they didn’t exactly mention what it would be. It could’ve been anything from a quick handshake to being told to shadow a coworker. Hopefully the former.

Part of her begged to the gods of computer science that she wouldn’t be assigned to yet another condescending old white man. Her last welcome at a company had been less than mediocre, and lukewarm at best.

The other part of her nagged that she’d signed up for exactly that.

“Ah, there you are. Welcome to your first day, Special Agent He,” the department supervisor–Harold Strauss–greeted as she entered his office. He gestured to the man standing in front of his desk. “This is Agent Marcus Pike. He will be showing you the ropes today.”

Agent Pike looked at her over his shoulder, the corners of his lips curling in a friendly smile. He couldn’t have been much older than her, with his faint smile lines and soft brown hair. He tucked his hands into his pockets and turned around to face her.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied. She shook his hand and then extended her hand to Pike. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for taking time out of your day to show me around.”

“Likewise,” he replied, shaking her hand. His brown eyes sparkled as he proposed, “Should we start? I have a meeting in about half an hour, and I’m sure you’ll want to meet some of our operational techs and digital forensics team. They’re the backbone of everything we do here.”

They acknowledged their supervisor once more and then left to begin the tour.

As her personal guide gave her the rundown of the floor’s organization and workflow, Erin couldn’t help but sneak a couple more glances at him.

He was taller than her by a few inches, but not in such a way that she felt like shrinking into herself. And he always stayed at her side, never walking ahead or lagging behind. His strong jaw led her gaze to a pair of soft lips, which seemed to be in a perpetual smile as he talked about the breakthroughs the department had in the past days.

“Do you know where your desk is?” Pike asked.

“Yeah, they told me the other day,” she answered, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ears. They walked over to her assigned desk, which was barren save for a standard computer, box of pens, and notepad. “If you’re going to ask if I need help with setup, I think I should be alright for now. Nothing a few installations and linux commands can’t fix.”

He chuckled softly and nodded. “You’re living up to your title, Agent He. If I’m being honest, I don’t think I could’ve been much help even if I offered. Have you done work similar to this before?”

She shrugged. “I worked in cybersecurity and software development,” Erin replied, setting down her bag and laptop on her desk. Slipping off her black blazer, she continued, “But I figured I should do something more than just build products for tech companies. Use my skills to aid in investigations.”

He nodded in understanding. “I see what you mean. Actually, I was originally studying to be an art history professor. But then I found this job and figured I could use my knowledge to help find and preserve artworks.”

Hm, noble.

“Sounds like we aren’t so different,” she observed, following him across the officespace. “Let’s hope that I can be of help around here.”

He chuckled softly, the dimple in his cheek showing as he smiled. “I think you’ll fit right in.”

---

The words on the screen blurred into the white background of the screen, as if they were mocking her. Each line of test slowly lost its meaning, turning into mind-numbing strings.

Erin pushed her computer away and rubbed her eyes defeatedly, sighing. The department was launching an investigation regarding a museum that was broken into and wiped clean. What little data was left on the computers, from what she gathered after hours of poring over them, was largely useless. Hopefully, one of the other agents would find something helpful in the other remnants. Perhaps an address, or some sort of signature that could be traced to a group. Her, on the other hand? She just wasted hours of work.

A steaming cup of coffee was set down onto her desk, along with some sugar and tiny cups of cream.

She looked up to find Marcus–Pike, she reminded herself–standing at her side, looking down at her with a soft smile. “Find anything?”

“Nope,” she sighed. It turned out that Pike was one of the best agents in the department, and that meant he spent most of his time leading and organizing investigations. What that meant for Erin, then, was that she had to answer to him. Thankfully, he was never weird about it. Quite the opposite, actually. Tapping the side of the cup, she asked, “Is this for me?”

He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah! Sorry; I would’ve fixed it, but I wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee.”

“Well it’s nothing complex, if that’s what you’re nervous about,” she teased. Two sugars and a drizzle of cream turned the pitch black liquid into a deep brown. She took a sip, the placebo of caffeine already kicking in. “When you’re in STEM, you learn to appreciate caffeine in any form. But I like it like this.”

“Noted,” he said, his voice a soft timbre amongst the flutter of papers and clacking of keys. Hands resting on his hips he asked, “How long do you think it’ll be before you find anything?”

“Anywhere from an hour to another three...or five,” she sighed, lazily scrolling down the file. Basking in the steam from her cup, she continued, “I’m gonna need a lot more of this coffee. There has to be something useful in this file, I just need to find it. I might need to cross-reference with some of the other evidence to notice anything.”

A headache was already descending upon her, and she was only six hours in. Weak–she’d stared at a computer much longer without any problem many times before. Why, of all times, did it have to happen when she was talking to her coworker?

“Well, I’ll be here pretty late tonight, so if you need anything, just let me know,” he replied, patting her shoulder. The crease between his brows deepened as he squinted down at the screen. “Maybe you need a fresh set of eyes on it. Take a break, Erin.” At her responding pout, he reasoned, “It’s been almost a month and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you rest.”

Of course he noticed her breaks, or lack thereof. She rolled her eyes, hiding a bashful smile in her cup. “I work best in sprints.”

He hummed amusedly. “But even sprinters need breaks, don’t they?” Then, his eyes lit up. “Actually, why don’t you take a break now?”

Erin raised a brow. “Am I not taking a break right now?”

His laugh was warm. “I mean a real break. Let’s get lunch; my treat.”

“Are you really going to make me choose between food and digital forensics, Agent Pike?”

Nodding definitively, he replied, “Yes, Agent He.”

Unable to resist the prospect of free lunch, she gave in and followed him out to his car. The work would still be there when she returned. For the moment, she could just enjoy Marcus’s companionship.

He drove out to a local diner about ten minutes away, his turns confident as if he’d gone there hundreds of times before. Judging by the way his eyes had sparked with joy at her agreement, he probably had.

They let their shoulders relax in the serenity of the car, shedding the formalities and passing time as if they were close friends.

The diner was small and cozy, booths worn with age and serving breakfast all day. Erin’s lips curled up in a little smile as the hostess recognized Marcus. So he was a regular, after all.

They sat down across from each other in a booth. Erin shrugged off her navy blue blazer and smoothed her dark hair back into a thick ponytail.

As she fixed her hair, Marcus gave her his recommendations, leaning in with the menu so she could follow along with her eyes. He seemed particularly fond of the pancakes, so she decided on those. Surely he wouldn’t lead her astray.

And with the way his voice rasped just slightly, she could listen to him speak for a whole day.

“Honey? Did you hear anything I said?” he asked, tilting his head slightly with a little smirk.

Erin snapped out of her reverie, cheeks burning. “Oh, um. Yeah. Sorry, I spaced out for a bit.”

“No worries, it happens to all of us,” he reassured, laying the menu flat on the table. “What were you thinking about?”

Less than an hour had passed before they were back in the office, stepping out of the elevator with full bellies. The familiar clicking from computers and buzz of conversations filled the air, and they were officially agents again.

Erin turned to him and nudged his arm. “Hey, thanks for the break.”

“Anytime,” he replied, walking with her along the perimeter of the room. They stopped at the hallway leading to the conference rooms and offices. His large hand moved to rest on her arm, his thumb rubbing gently. “I guess this is my stop. You know where to find me.”

“And you know where I’ll be.”

The next day, Marcus was greeted in his office by tupperwares containing homemade fried rice, some cut up fruit, and a sticky note.

Thanks for sticking with me yesterday. -E

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he tried to refrain from grinning like a maniac, though he was sure anyone who happened to pass by would’ve thought he looked like a schoolgirl with a crush. Erin’s handwriting was soft and curved, so similar to calligraphy but simple in a way that made the note feel that much more intimate.

She had an interesting way of showing her care for others, he found. Perhaps it was a byproduct of the work she dedicated her life to; she seemed to always be one step ahead, ready to pull out small details that others would dismiss. He wondered what she might know of him.

There were a few things she clearly knew; things that surprised him every day. Just as he’d learned her usual coffee order, she’d learned his. When he’d walk in every morning, her head of dark hair would tilt to peek over her cubicle, as if she could sense his presence. And when their eyes would meet, her smile was better than the best espresso in the world.

Marcus shook his head to himself as his heart fluttered. Years of failed relationships and a divorce later, he still couldn’t keep his feelings in check. His mother always said he had a soft heart, one that would be his greatest strength and his greatest weakness. But Erin was anything but a weakness.

She wasn’t a weakness, but a strength. A constant in his life, making each day feel just a little more special. He didn’t need a relationship to be happy, but….he wouldn’t be opposed to one either.

Yet, as he spotted Ian Malarkey standing a bit too close to her, he forced himself to backtrack. What if she didn’t want him? What if they were meant to be just as they were: just friends?

Maybe it was time for him to move on.

After a few months, their friendship had grown well past a workplace acquaintance. It wasn’t as if she was trying to get attached to him; it just...happened. And it was only a little surprising to her; she tried to stay as professional as she could in the office, but outside? Outside, she could just be Erin, not FBI Special Agent He. Outside, she could shed her jacket and swap the button-down shirt for a ribbed sweater and some jeans. Outside, she and Marcus could sit as close together as they wanted without drawing unwanted attention.

She knew it was silly to fantasize. After all, Marcus was a coworker, if not a superior. And with the way he fussed over her water intake and made sure that she wore her glasses at the right times, he could easily see her as a little sister. As nothing more than a new agent who happened to be friendly.

But if that were true, why would he go through the effort of bringing her lunch on Thursdays? Why did he call her little names like “honeydew” and “sweetheart,” and why did it feel so natural coming from his mouth?

The commotion coming from the direction of the conference rooms told her that the team was back from the investigation. Maybe Marcus was there; she knew he’d gone, but he hadn’t texted since morning. It wouldn’t hurt to pop in to check on him; he did that often enough with her.

When she entered the break room, her heart sank. Sitting off to the side, by the wall, was Marcus asking Teresa Lisbon out on a date. She wasn’t sure why she felt defeated; it wasn’t like she had any plans on asking him out.

But then why did it hurt her to the core to see him giving those puppy eyes and little smiles to Lisbon? The woman didn’t even look interested in him; if anything, she looked confused and hesitant.

Ian caught her eye as she surveyed the room once more, his lips pulling into a tight-lipped smile. He knew about her feelings for Marcus, having spent hours going over evidence and making small talk. In fact, he’d even encouraged her to tell Marcus her feelings, out of fear that she might never get the chance.

Perhaps her chance had passed after all. Turning on her heel, Erin decided that, for once, it was time to go home. Marcus would come to her when he was less busy.

The thing was, though, she didn’t want to go home. She wanted to go over and say hello, and check to make sure he wasn’t injured in the scuffle. Moreover, she didn’t want to be a fill-in for Lisbon’s absence. She didn’t want to be his second choice. And she knew it wasn’t her fault, nor Lisbon’s, that Marcus didn’t choose her. But it still stung.

She watched as their shared lunches became less frequent, the senior agent replacing her space by Marcus’s side. When the elevator would ding at 7AM and she’d glance up to see if it was him, she found him searching the room for Lisbon. They never drifted over to her desk. That fact always made her grip her pen just a little tighter.

On the days when he did grace her with his presence, she felt like a tornado of emotions.

Happy, because she had missed her best friend.

Sad, because she knew the next time she’d spend time with him was in a few weeks rather than a few days.

Grateful, because she knew how hard it was to socialize after a work week of at least 50 hours.

Envious, because of the stories he told.

Relieved, because he still cared.

Plastering a halfhearted smile on her face, Erin listened to Marcus practically worship his girlfriend. His summer breeze of a smile and sparkling eyes made the pain that came with listening worth it. The only other time she’d heard him talk that passionately was when they’d visited an art museum.

At least one of them was happy.

She thought of trying to date again; it had been over a year since she’d been in a relationship. But she couldn’t do it. More than once, she’d put on some simple makeup and casual clothes, ready to head out to the bar, but no. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the apartment. The apartment was where she and Marcus watched movies, where she would cut up fruit and bring them to him on a plate while he pored over reports in the warm lights of the kitchen. It was where he’d navigate her cupboards and fridge to make her a mug of his special hot chocolate. It was her safe space, the one place in her life where she could just be Erin, and he could just be Marcus.

The knife cleaved the melon in half with ease, revealing its pale green interior.

Marcus leaned up against the counter next to her, hair tousled and necktie loosened against his chest. He absentmindedly started rolling up his sleeves, undoing the cuffs of his shirt and folding them up.

She tried not to stare too long at the way his forearms tensed with the movement.

He broke the silence first. “I got the job in DC,” he said, voice soft like velvet.

“That’s great.” A simple response, though Erin cringed internally. Was that any way to react to her best friend’s job promotion? Surely not, but a part of her–a selfish part of her–knew that it meant he was leaving. Leaving not just his position, but her. Texas. The apartment.

It would’ve been disingenuous for her to say anything more.

Then, he added, almost sheepishly, “I also asked Teresa to marry me. And move to DC so we can be together.”

The blade of her knife hit the cutting board a little harder than normal. “Oh. That’s nice.” Cutting away the tough outer skin, she forced herself to ask, “What did she say?”

He sighed and crossed his arms, biting his lip as if to contain a smile. “She said she’d think about it. But I think she’ll come around. I kind of, uh, sprung it onto her the other night.”

And yet there he was, standing next to a woman who would’ve been ready to say yes. But even so, she said, “I’m sure things will work out between you two. You’ve already given so much to your relationship; it would be a shame for her to not see how great you are.”

She slid him a bowl of perfectly cubed melon.

Smiling softly, he took the bowl into his hands. “You’re the best, honeydew.”

The best, but not the one.

“You’re just trying to get on my good side before you leave for DC, brown eyes,” she jested, nudging him with her elbow. Her chest filled with warmth at his laugh. She tried her best to hang onto that feeling, to that sound. “When are you two leaving?”

“I’m already about halfway packed,” he mused, chewing on a cube of honeydew thoughtfully. “So maybe within the week? I hope that’s enough time for Teresa to make a decision.”

There was less time than she thought. She hummed softly. “Are you sure that’s what she wants? That it’s what you want?”

He nodded confidently. “Yes, I...I know that I don’t have the best track record with relationships, but something about her feels right.” The bowl was set into the sink and filled with water. “I’m happy, honey. You don’t have to worry.”

Erin’s eyes burned as she quietly replied, “Okay.”

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minniewoos · 5 years

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Amortentia ➣ Hwang Hyunjin Pt.1

Genre: hogwarts au, slytherin!Hyunjin, fluff, angst, bestfriend!Seungmin

Pairing: hyunjin x reader

Word Count: 12,932

Summary: Hyunjin was conceived under the effects of a love potion, making it impossible for him to experience love. But you try your hardest anyway. And you kinda succeed.

part 1➣part 2 ➣part 3

"And the final curious potion we will be introducing today, last but not least, is Amortentia." Your potions professor announced. Professor Lee always had a bounce in his step and a delighted grin whenever he taught. Anyone who saw him could tell that potions were his passion. And today's lesson was no different; the smile on his pudgy face was more full than usual today. And you weren't sure why. But he continued dutifully with his teachings.

"I'm sure most of you already know what this little concoction is, it's quite famous amongst kids your age." He chipped, but then held his pointer finger up and towards the small group of students in front of him. He warned, "But don't even think about using it. This potion is considered highly dangerous and very powerful. It does not create genuine love, that is impossible to achieve by means of magic. Just an intense obsession. Understand?"

You heard a few peers around you sigh in disappointment. And you weren't very surprised since you always heard gossip through the grapevine. Stories about your classmates and their romantic struggles. And like your professor said, this potion was very popular. Everyone wants easy love, a perfect romance. You even thought about using it once or twice when you were younger; probably in year two or three. You shake your head at yourself, those days of pining after that certain person were behind you. At least, the childish thoughts of using magic to do that.

"Of course, I'm sure most of you are wise enough not to do that. I expect great things from you bunch, this is an advanced potion class. I see greatness in each one of you." Your professor smiled once again as his eyes landed on every one of you and your classmates. It was a mixed class as well; it had some students from each house attending it. Which was a change from the usual one or two houses per class, but you like it, you didn't interact as much with the other houses as you would've liked to.

"Would anyone like to tell me what they know about Amortentia before we begin?" Professor Lee let the question hang in the air, receiving only silence. His smile dropped for a moment, but it was up once more when he spotted somebody raised their hand. He nodded and pointed towards the owner of the raised hand, "Yes, Seungmin, go ahead."

“It’s complicated to brew, and it makes the person it’s used on have an extreme obsession.” Seungmin said, very interested in today’s lesson, “The smells also different for everybody; it smells like the three things people love the most.”

“That is correct! Five points for Ravenclaw.” Your professor chirped happily. “At the end of class, if anyone wishes, they may take a whiff of Amortentia if they’re curious about the smell.”

You smiled as well, and discreetly fist-bumped Seungmin for the extra points for your house. In your mind, he was always a good kid, if not a little odd sometimes. For the rest of the class, your professor spoke animatedly about Amortentia and went over its painful brewing procedure. You listened, well, you tried to. Looking to the brewing procedure is tedious and quite a bore, especially for such a long and precise potion like Amortentia. So, your thoughts wandered a bit, but you got the gist of what you needed to know about Amortentia. And if you had questions, the textbook was there for a reason. Instead, you were curious about what Amortentia smelled like for you; perhaps it would be your favorite coffee or tea, or maybe a particular food. What did Seungmin smell? Or the professor? You scanned the room, curious as to what the others would smell in the Amortentia.

There were pretty rowdy Gryffindors like Han Jisung or Shin Ryujin. But there was a certain Slytherin you were especially curious about. Eyes trained on Hwang Hyunjin, you concentrated as you tried to think. Your eyebrows scrunched together as you thought about what he would even smell, he was unpredictable, really. Nobody was really close to the aloof Slytherin, but he got along really well with everyone. He wasn’t cruel or stuck up despite the Slytherin stereotype, but he wasn’t friendly either. Hyunjin never stuck to people that well, it was as if he wasn't interested enough to care. On the other hand, people stuck to Hyunjin like glue; you weren't exactly sure why. So it confused you, why care so much about a guy who doesn't do the same? Perhaps it was because of his charm, the few times you spoke to him were very pleasant; it helped that he was a solid ten in looks. Nonetheless, there was something off about him that you couldn't figure out. Hyunjin was indeed a mystery.

“Hey, pay attention.” Seungmin jabbed at your side, effectively derailing your train of thought. “If we’re gonna be partners again, it’s not going to be like last time.”

You rolled your eyes, “Come on Minnie, it wasn’t that bad. Okay?”

He frowned, “Says you, the potion didn’t blow up right in your eyes.”

“Sorry?” You shrugged with a shy smile, feeling a little guilty about the potion incident. Seungmin went blind for a whole hour.

“You better be.” Seungmin turned his focus back into taking his notes. How diligent.

You pouted and leaned onto the desk, your chin resting in the palm of your hand. You muttered sourly, “That sounds like a threat.”

“That’s because it is.”

The class period reached its end quickly, and your mood was instantly lifted. While you enjoy the advanced potions class, it has a knack for putting you to sleep. You were a pretty lazy Ravenclaw.

“Remember class, I will offer you extra credit for this lesson! If you’re interested just sign this parchment before you leave the room, this is your last day to do this before I begin planning the extra credit.” Your professor reminded everyone one last time before dismissing the class.

The small class began to file out of the room, most of them gathering around the table with the vials of potions lined upon them. All the potions the professor went over today were interesting and very advanced. It was predictable which one people flocked towards first. Amortentia.

Chatter filled the air as you heard excited quips of what they smelled; others who were less interested simply left the room.

Seungmin was one of those people about to leave the room, completely ignoring the potions. But you clutched his arm and yanked him towards the table. He yelped in surprise before giving you an ugly look.

"Don't act like you aren’t curious about what you smell." You crossed your arms, standing in front of the table. The small crowd already began dispersing.

"I will act like it because I don’t." Seungmin sighed, then began to leave the room once more. "I'll meet you outside after you're finished."

Lips pursed in a frown, what a downer. You weren't sure what his problem was today, his mood seemed to drop mid-lesson. But ignoring Seungmin’s attitude, you faced the little vial of Amortentia. Little spiraling wisps rose from the vial, dissipating by the time it reached the height of your eyes. Already a little excited, you leaned down and took a whiff.

You smelled everything right away, each scent from the potion was strong and distinct. The corners of your lips tipped up.

Old books, and you knew exactly why. The Ravenclaw common room was absolutely filled with ancient books from top to bottom, and it showed. Bookcases were full of leather-bound books and rolled-up scrolls. The scent was faint but immediately noticeable, old and musty, but endearing to you. Ravenclaw pride bubbled up in your chest.

Then there was a sort of citrusy smell, it was oranges. Other than the fact that they smell good, they were always in season for you. Ever since the first day you sat down at the Ravenclaw table and the feast appeared in front of you, you adored Hogwarts’ oranges. It was the first thing you tried out of the feast, and the taste stuck with you. You’ll eat one whenever you have the chance.

Jasmine. The last scent was jasmine, and while you vividly recognize the smell, you were confused as to why you smelled it. There were no prominent memories associated with jasmine other than it just smelling very good. And despite your confusion around it, it was easily the most potent smell among the three. You stared intensely at the vial, trying to focus on the jasmine scent; it was possible a memory or feeling would come to you. But alas, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Deciding to give up, you took a step away and just admired the potion for a moment. It was lovely, a light blue color with a sleek sheen to it and spiraling steam. No one would be able to tell what powerful properties it would have. You sigh before you noticed most others have left the class already to carry on their schedule. All except for one.

You were surprised to see Hyunjin standing in front of you on the opposite side of the table. He was glaring down at the potion, a confused and annoyed expression creased his face. Frowning, you wondered what he smelled to possibly cause such an irate reaction from the boy. Unsure of whether it was appropriate to ask, you just stared at Hyunjin’s concentrated expression. But as usual, curiosity got the better of you and decided you wanted to know why he seemed so annoyed. Hesitantly, you got his attention and waved a hand.

“Hey Hyunjin, what do you smell?” You leaned over to match his line of sight, with an awkward little smile to seem friendly. You gulped nervously after Hyunjin’s irritated gaze flicked to look you directly in your eyes.

“What do you smell?” He responded to your question with a question. You frowned but figured you would answer anyway.

“Hm...it was old books, oranges, and jasmine. Pretty pleasant if you ask me.” Shifting your weight, you tilted your head before questioning him again. “So, how about you?”

“Nothing.” His lips pursed with his eyebrows were scrunched, “I don’t smell anything.”

The first thought that came to you was simply that that wasn’t possible. But you couldn’t question him or dwell on the idea any longer. Hyunjin ended the small talk when he sharply snatched his textbook off the desk and left the room, leaving you to feel bad you even asked.

Feeling down since you’ve somehow insulted two people within the span of five minutes, you figure it’s your time to go. A heavy sigh and a moment later you headed towards the exit.

“Miss y/n, please don’t feel bad about that. It’s good to be curious. Some people just have a complicated relationship with this kind of stuff.” Professor Lee consoled you, he was packing his notes and materials up from his desk. His smile was sympathetic.

You smiled and shrugged, “I just don’t think he’s a very open person, sir.”

“Well, Miss y/n, that just makes their journey all the more satisfying.”

“The journey?”

“Getting to know somebody is an adventure all on its own. I’m sure you’ll discover this.” Professor Lee began walking out from behind his desk, parchment in hand. “Somebody like him specifically, Hyunjin, would be a tough but fascinating journey.”

“You’re talking about people like they’re stories, sir.”

“Well, everyone has their own story, for some people, it just takes some digging. I know you’re an inquisitive person, you have a thirst for knowledge."

"Thank you, your enthusiasm when you teach really does help." You smile gratefully, then paused as something came to mind. "Actually, where’s that parchment for the extra credit? I'd like to do it; the lessons have been getting a little hard to understand."

"Oh, of course! It's right here." He held out the parchment in his hand and gave you a quill. "Go right ahead dear, you'll be given a partner to complete this outside of class."

"Okay, thanks sir, I'll see you later." You sign and gather your things, leaving the classroom in a better mood than you would have otherwise. You nearly forget Seungmin was outside waiting for you, so you sent him an apologetic look.

"Took you long enough, I was about to go in and check if you died," Seungmin commented, propped on the ledge jutting out from the sculptured stone walls. He looked uncomfortable.

"Wow, you really did wait for me, I'm flattered." You smiled, pleasantly surprised despite the frown set on Seungmin.

"Yeah, I did, now hurry up before we're late for charms class." He began to walk ahead of you while you trailed behind him, a couple steps quicker to try to catch up. "What did you smell anyway?"

"Hmm, old books, citrus, and jasmine. All quite nice if you ask me."

Seungmin hummed in response, slowing his pace for you; he seemed content. The smug little smirk on your face showed your sense of satisfaction. Seungmin could never stay mean to you, it didn’t matter what; you two have been best friends since the first year. He got grumpy sometimes, but it never lasted long when it came to you. You nudged him with your elbow, catching him on the side; then, you looked up at him to show off your smug little grin. In return, he rolled his eyes and nudged you back, but you peaked at the little smile he attempted to hold back.

The next morning was breakfast time, and the only way to describe your journey to the Great Hall was a hobble. Or maybe a shuffle or stagger. And it was a long ways away from the Ravenclaw tower down to the Great Hall. As a result, you were really struggling to move your tired limbs. Perhaps you'll take a quick nap during breakfast, or sleep during Ms. Hong's charm class. Either way, you were not awake, and it showed. Badly.

Unfortunately, you’ve developed an awful habit of not sleeping when you’re supposed to, and it’s resulted in your morning zombie-ness. And general crankiness if you were going to be honest. All that nagging Seungmin threw at you didn’t help either, he always nagged at you to sleep early or to eat right. It was easy for him to say though, he was one of the early birds in this school.

And as soon as you took your seat at the Ravenclaw table, you knew the look Seungmin was putting your way. He really just reminded you of your mother sometimes. So, before he could nag you, you nagged yourself. You hitch your voice into a slightly nasally tone and scrunch your nose mockingly. “Y/n you need to sleep earlier, study before 10pm, don’t rely on caffeine, stop procrastinating you lazy ass.”

“I don’t sound like that!"

“Shhh, yea, you do, don’t pretend you don’t know. Don’t be so loud in the mornings, please.” You grumble and lay your head on the table after placing a muffin on your plate. After closing your eyes, you sigh heavily and ultimately regret your life choices that lead to your headache and tired eyes.

Seungmin shook his head, “I wasn't even going to say anything. You’re a brat in the mornings, you know that right?”

“Mmmhm, watcha gonna do about it?” You mumble, head still lying on the table and eyes shut comfortably. After a few seconds, you got no response, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Meanwhile, Seungmin wasn’t buying into your childish attitude right now. Simply resting his cheek to the palm of his hand, eyelids lowering in boredom, and with a weary sigh said, “Your robes are on inside out.”

"No, it's not you're just messing with me." You didn't even bother to check.

Seungmin stopped bothering you in favor of chatting with Jeongin. Another Ravenclaw just a year below you; he also had a knack for annoying you. You weren't surprised that he and Seungmin got along so well. Eventually, maybe a few minutes passed before your thoughts shut down, and you were snoozing away. A soothing smell drifted in the air around you, slightly mixed in with the fresh oranges and ripening bananas. It smelled very familiar, but you were too drowsy to remember the name, and it served to make you fall deeper into your morning nap.

"How does she fall asleep so quickly…" Jeongin stared at you in engrossed bafflement and proceeded to wave a hand in front of your face. He was another early bird who enjoyed teasing you about your poor life choices.

“Because she refuses to go to bed at a reasonable time,” Seungmin said, bored as if he’s been through this situation many times before. Which to his credit, he has. "She’ll start snoring soon, just wait.”

And you did, the snores were quiet at first, more like loud breathing. Jeongin raised his eyebrows, “You were right.”

Seungmin smiled a smug smile, and tapped his temple. “I know her well, later she’ll complain about how tired she still is but can’t sleep. Then the cycle will repeat.”

Seungmin then pulled out a quill, a devilish smile on hand. “I have an idea.”

Jeongin mirrored his mischievous grin, immediately recognizing the type of quill he took out. Without hesitation, Seungmin, on your exposed cheek, began to write gently. While nothing showed up at first, the quill contained disappearing ink; and that means that in about an hour the ink will become visible. Just about the time you'd be getting sleepy again, in potions class where he had to deal with your lazy ass.

Seungmin felt satisfied with his work. His little art piece wasn’t visible at the moment. But the little mustache and monocle he drew would give him a good laugh later in class. He even wrote ‘I told you so’ on your forehead, just to take a jab at you.

Eventually, you were forced to wake up. The students around you filing out of the Great Hall and through the large entrance doors, the chatter filling the castle. You lifted your head. It felt heavy as you stretched your arms out to yawn. Drowsy and your vision still blurry, you picked up your muffin and quickly began to eat. You sat there for a moment, letting your sleepiness slowly fade away. Only then did you freeze Seungmin and jeongin left you there, you pursed your lips and puffed your cheeks out. But you should've expected it, it always annoyed Seungmin when your lousy sleeping habits caught up to you, and you knew it.

You shook it off though as Seungmin just being Seungmin and stared dully at the seat he sat in across from you. He had a half-filled plate of breakfast food leftover, and you really just thought of why he would grab so much if he didn't even eat it. But one thing caught your attention, making you do a double-take. A funny feeling began to settle in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes stuck on the teacup across from you as the gears in your head work hard. The silence as the room emptied out only amplified the thoughts in your mind.

Seungmin's tea was jasmine, he always drank a cup in the morning and before bed. Although Seungmin drinks a lot of tea throughout the day, jasmine is his favorite. It was usually routine for him to start and end the day with it. And well, you always liked the smell of it; since you associated it with good memories and Seungmin. You recognized it as the smell that so easily put you to sleep this morning. And you also recognized it as the last thing you smelled in Amortentia.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together, but it was a jarring revelation. Did you love Seungmin? Of course, you would say yes, but to think of him romantically gave you a funny feeling in your chest. You blinked at the teacup in front of you, trying to decipher what this meant for you. If somebody asked how you felt, you wouldn't be able to answer clearly. It was as if that warm, fuzzy feeling right now was also constricting. Your breathing was heightened, and there was a pressure in your abdomen. The most honest answer you could say was that your feelings were mixed.

"Miss," there was a tap on your shoulder, breaking you from your thoughts. You blink wildly as if torn from a daze and stare at the professor in front of you, slightly baffled. She looks at you softly, "it's time to go to class hun."

"Oh," you reply dumbly. But hearing the awkward sound quickly brought you back to your senses. "Oh, yes of course. I'm sorry professor, I guess I'm still waking up. It's not an easy morning I suppose."

"We all have those days, now hurry along and get to class before you're late."

"Of course, thank you" you gather your stuff and rush out of the now empty Great Hall.

You speed walked to your next class in a daze, took notes in a daze, and left the class in a daze. Seungmin. Seungmin? Maybe...but, it was Seungmin. Your best friend, Seungmin.

Which you had your next class with, and you absolutely wouldn't be able to concentrate. It was potions, which you suppose was a good thing. You were good at potions, and Professor Lee was giving out the assignments for the extra credit today. You found yourself standing in front of the potions room door, staring at the floor and thinking to yourself. You shake your head and huff, you just decide to focus on the studies for now. Worrying can wait.

You walk into potions class and take your usual seat next to Seungmin, and everything was as usual. Professor Lee began his lecture, and you and Seungmin made little comments to each other, sometimes snide and sometimes witty. He scribbled notes in his little parchment paper, bound into a notebook. You lean over towards Seungmin, boredom already creeping up on you, and start doodling on his parchment. He doesn’t even bat an eye, he’s too used to your strange doodles. At first, he always complained about the “weird muggle drawing” on his study notes. But he eventually grew to know who Spongebob was, initially asking why there was a “block of cheese with a face on it” on his paper. Being a young first year, you were horrified that he didn’t know who Spongebob was. And proceeded to explain to him what Spongebob and cartoons were. Little pureblood Seungmin was weirded out, but since you kept on drawing on his notes, he figured it was useless to keep complaining. Now he actually likes seeing your doodles on his notes, even if they weren’t that good. It was always a different person or character, and whenever a new one popped up, he would ask about it. Currently, you were doodling a bad rendition of the gang from Monsters Inc.

Seungmin glances over at you, smirks, then looks back down to continue note taking. This action makes you pause for a moment. You stare at him, waiting for him to explain to you why he looks so smug and satisfied. You can already tell this isn’t a good sign for you, to mentally prepare yourself for the worst.

“Seungmin.” You nudge him gently, “What did you do this time?”

He looks at you, eyes you a bit before looking at his paper again, a smile on his lips. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Liar.” You narrow your eyes, trying to think of the previous pranks he pulled on you. It only took a moment before the lightbulb lit above your head, your expression was one of annoyance. “You drew something on my face, didn’t you.”

“Of course not, why would I do that?” He pretends to be offended, but you knew he was satisfied on the inside. His response only confirmed your suspicions.

You grumble to yourself before trying to wipe the ink off your face, but you were sure you were just smudging it. Also hoping nobody else noticed whatever it was Seungmin decided to draw. And you could only wish it was nothing obscene. After a few minutes of trying to wipe the ink off your face, Seungmin finally took pity and began wiping it off for you. He chuckled silently to himself while doing it, though. What a little fucker.

Soon enough the professor got everyone's attention after his lecture of the day. You tuned in after a whole class period of barely listening, and it’s a good thing you did. He just started talking about the extra credit project. And so, you decide that you need to pay attention to this. Putting your thoughts away, you turned your focus towards professor Lee.

"Now, I must say I am slightly disappointed. Out of the 17 of you in this class, only 4 signed up for extra credit." Professor Lee huffed indignantly. But continued anyway. "But those who have, I’m proud to say, are quite brilliant students.”

You leaned into Seungmin and asked him in a low tone, “Did you sign up?”

He shook his head and shrugged, you pouted, a little disappointed.

“First pair, Na Jaemin and Kwon Eunbin. You two will be brewing the potion Felix Felicus. The next, and last, pair will be Hwang Hyunjin and y/f/n. And the two of you will be brewing Amortentia. Those are both complicated potions you know, and it must be done outside of class. We are much too busy in class here to work on this project. I suggest the four of you see me after class to discuss this more if you have any questions.”

Your curiosity was peaked, you twisted around in your chair to spot Hyunjin a few seats behind you. The odd boy was going to be your partner. He didn’t seem too interested, but his eyes flicked to meet yours when he sensed your gaze on him. You smiled and waved, trying to look friendly enough after what happened yesterday; maybe you came off as insensitive? Hyunjin nodded to you politely, the ghost of a smile hovered on his lips. After a moment, his attention turned back to the professor. But your gaze lingered for another second, you twisted back around after.

Seungmin nudged you, “Got a little crush, huh?”

Your jaw dropped and you smacked his arm in offense, “No, of course not. I just think he’s a little strange…”

“Strange?”

“Yea, isn’t there something off about him? He’s not mean or anything, but it’s like...like an act.”

Seungmin shook his head in denial, “I don’t see anything wrong, maybe that's just how he is.”

You thought about it for a moment, but it still bothered you. Nonetheless, the topic was dropped, and your mind clung onto another question. Was Seungmin aware of the Amortentia thing? He knew what you smelled in the potion, and Seungmin isn’t a dumb boy. Unquestionably he connected the dots and knew you smelled his jasmine tea, but for some reason just held off telling you. Or maybe he didn’t want to cause any awkward feelings because he didn’t reciprocate those feelings…

The thought of that put you down though, like your heart felt heavy just thinking of that possibility. You frowned, you were positive Seungmin knew, because you knew him well enough. He’s a smart boy. You rested your chin on your hand and tilted your head to eye Seungmin, squinting your eyes skeptically.

Of course, he noticed, not like you were hiding it anyway. He only looked at you weirdly and scoffed, amused. “What’s with the stink eye?”

“Not a stink eye, just thinking.” Your response was curt.

He pinched your nose affectionately while you swatted his hand away, “You overthink.”

“What a hypocrite, you’re a thinker too.”

“Yea, but at least I’m still grounded in reality. When you think, your heads way up there.” Seungmin looks up and points towards the sky. You purse your lips, unable to retort. And soon after, class was finishing up.

You stood from your seat, grabbed your textbooks, and waited as you leaned on the table. Eyes closed, you sigh breathily and wait for further instructions. When you open your eyes, Hyunjin was waiting as well with the same bored expression as you. The other two classmates were standing around too, it seems like none of you were particularly happy about this extra credit project. You couldn’t dwell on the thought much longer, though, because your professor stood in front of you all now, a huge gummy smile on his face. You sneak a glance at Hyunjin only to see a prominent frown on his usually indifferent face, your head tilts in curiosity.

“Hm…”

∎∎∎

Two days later and you sat in the library, not exactly enthused about Hyunjin’s tardiness. When Professor Lee explained the criteria for the extra credit a couple days ago, you and Hyunjin decided on when your first meet-up would be. And it was agreed that 6pm in the library would work. You were chewing on some oranges, a pile of the rines sitting on the table, the citrus-y scent wavering around you.

Apparently, it didn’t, because Hyunjin was thirty minutes late and your temper was increasing by the minute. You were muttering to yourself, “This boy, geez, what’s his deal. He better have a mighty good excuse for this…”

Pulling out a potions textbook, you just decide to start on your own. Doing nothing won’t get you anywhere. You probably sat there for another fifteen minutes or so before a couple chairs were pulled out and sat in. Looking up, you expected to see Hyunjin, but instead you were greeted by Jaemin and Renjun, you furrowed your eyebrows. You were friends with the two boys, Renjun was in Ravenclaw with you so it was a natural friendship. And you knew the Slytherin Jaemin through Renjun, all in the same year as you. You tilted your head and rested an arm on your textbook.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, a bored look in your eyes.

Jaemin whistled, pretending to be offended, “What? No ‘Hi Jaemin! Hello Renjun! It’s so nice to see you guys.’”

You rolled your eyes at him, Jaemin even fluttered his eyelashes for the extra flair. “No, since when have I ever greeted you guys like that. And you didn’t answer my question, why are you here?”

“Ah, you’re so cold to us.” Renjun chuckled, but smiled nonetheless, knowing you were just being comfortable with them. “We just needed to check up on some things. But we saw you and wanted to say hi. The real question is, why are you here and why do you look so pissy?”

“I’m doing extra credit work for potions, but, Hyunjin is supposed to do it with me and I haven’t heard from him.” You frowned, bookmarking your page and closing your textbook.

“What, really?” Jaemin looked confused, “Hyunjin was sleeping last I saw him.”

“He...was sleeping.” You repeated, irritated and about to drag him to the library by his ear if need be.

Jaemin nodded and stood up, “He’s one of my roommates. Never mentioned extra credit or anything.”

Renjun stood up with him and shrugged, “Maybe you guys will have to reschedule your study date. Wish you luck, we’ll be going now.”

“Study date?? Renjun no, no, that's not-” You tried to explain, but they walked away before you even finished your sentence. They even stole a couple of your oranges before they left. You sighed, exasperated and tired, they always teased you; they even had the nerve to steal your oranges! But your irritation caught up to you again as your head dropped and thumped onto the table. You sighed heavily as you just laid there, you figured it’s about time you pack things up. You can’t get too far without Hyunjin, and you weren’t about to do all the work and let Hyunjin slack off. This was a group project!

Just as you stood up and began packing your things away, a familiar figure rushed into the library, making a ruckus and disturbing the calm atmosphere. It was Hyunjin.

The boy basically stumbled through the door and slammed his hands against the wall to keep himself from entirely faceplanting. Somehow while still tripping over his own two feet. All of which caused a loud thud sound and all eyes on him; this provoked a violent and angry “Shhh!” from the librarian. He stood up straight and apologized, seemingly bewildered at how extra his entrance was. Then as he lifted his head up, he was able to see that most eyes were on him. Pink crept up his neck, and his usual calm demeanor was broken as he scratched the back of his neck. He quickly walked away from the entrance, trying to shake off all the eyes on him. It didn’t take long for Hyunjin to spot you and he made his way over, he let out a long, drawn out sigh. He shook his head, eyes squeezed shut for a moment as if he was trying to erase that moment from his memory.

You stood there, arms crossed and a prominent frown gracing your features. About a million questions were buzzing through your head, but first one you chose to scold him. “Why are you so late?? I was sitting here for like 45 whole minutes Hyunjin, and Jaemin comes by and tells me you were sleeping?? Really? Honestly, you better have a damn good excuse for this, this project isn’t easy, and we gotta pick it up if we want to do good on it.”

Hyunjin just stood there, mouth slightly ajar and eyes staring intently. He then stammered, “R-right sorry, I had quidditch practice before this and I got back to the dorm and just crashed… I woke up and ran here...um...”

He didn’t know what else to say. He was...flustered? Your eyebrows furrowed and your anger subsided in favor of curiosity. You’ve never seen this boy flustered before. Hyunjin always seemed level-headed and sharp, but with the way he was acting now, it was a strange new side of him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Hyunjin questioned, kind of worried about what you would say next. “Are you about to scold me more or…”

You looked up at him and shrugged, a glint of teasing in your eyes, “I just think you’re strange. Now let’s get started on this project, chop chop.”

Your response clearly caught him off guard. “Wh-what, wait, strange? You can’t just change the subject like that, why? Hey, don’t ignore me.”

“Come on, I already started the research for this, you gotta catch up.”

“I-what?? You started without me?”

“Um, yea, you were late so I’m not the one at fault here. Now come onnn, I wanna get started.”

“Ah...okay okay.” Hyunjin was still a little flustered and confused, but he sat down beside you anyway and looked at the textbook. It seemed like he was in deep thought, just staring dumbly at the textbooks cover. He was still processing the embarrassing moment that just took place.

You had to flip the book open to the right page, and Hyunjin’s lips formed an ‘o’. You chuckled to yourself, figuring this was going to be a bit more fun than you initially expected. Picking up an orange, you began to peel it and handed Hyunjin a piece. He took it gratefully and you plopped a bit into your mouth, savoring the flavor as you started reading the textbook with Hyunjin.

And studying with Hyunjin was...surprisingly easy. He was cooperative, and if he had any questions, he didn’t hesitate to ask. While he very swiftly regained his usual calm demeanor, it wasn’t a stubborn or cold one as you had originally thought. He was just quite a bit more aloof and quiet, not like that’s an awful thing; although, it was as though he attempted to regain his composure. Despite that, you discovered that the two of you actually got along quite well. You were actually making good progress on the research portion of this project. Note-taking and finding the right sources were a breeze, which usually weren’t in your past experiences. It was a miracle in a sense, Hyunjin was able to make good progress, even with your lazy ass occasionally getting distracted. Which he quickly turned your attention back to the problem at hand. The only thing that bothered you, sometimes Hyunjin would get a blank look on his face. It would be in between the little intervals of conversation, and he would just go blank. No facial expression but he was clearly thinking, his mind was running, but nothing was there. It normally wouldn’t bother you, it was just how he felt, right? It was just the vacant look his eyes took on, they were cold and distant. Something about it made you uncomfortable. Those moments were rare, though, and so you just carried on.

Nearly an hour later, you stretched your arms in the air, flexing your fingers out. A yawn escaped your lips as you rubbed your dreary eyes, laying your head on the table between your crossed arms. Hyunjin's condition was no different. He was leaning back in his chair, slouched and his head drooping. His hair fell over his half-lidded eyes while his arms were crossed comfortably. Sleep for these two drowsy sorcerers was imminent. The efforts of your work were splayed out across the table, messy hand-writing and orange rinds and all. Several open textbooks were stacked upon each other, the musty library smell and peaceful silence lulled you two to sleep.

The sun was beginning to set as an illustrious golden glow shown through the library windows. Rays of the intense orange glow shining spotlights upon the few library occupants remaining. As the sun sunk over the horizon, a particularly strong orange ray slowly crept its way right into Hyunjin’s face. He sneered at the disturbance of his sleep, squeezing his eyes before fluttering them open. His hand went to shield his eyes from the annoying light.

Hyunjin had to blink a couple more times to get a hold of his surroundings, temporarily forgetting where he was. But he quickly remembered whenever he was you snoozing away next to him. Your head on the table, using a textbook as a cushion. Your hair fell over your face, a strand getting caught between your lips as you snored softly. Hyunjin’s eyebrows raised curiously as he watched your lips move intermittently, you were mumbling under your breath. Sleep talking.

Hyunjin frowned. What time is it? He looked around the library, and there were simply a few students left, the sun was setting, and even the librarian was giving him a nasty side-eye. He cringed, remembering his entrance from earlier and figured it was time to go. His attention was turned back to you, he reached out and brushed the hair out of your face. Trying not to startle you, he placed his hand on your shoulder and shook gently.

"Y/n…" he prodded, but you were as still as a log, your cheek squished up against the textbook. Hyunjin prodded once more, shaking you a bit harder this time and still no response except a vague mumble of word salad from you.

"Tch, what a hypocrite," he scoffed, but there was no ill intent behind the action. He raised an eyebrow, and his lips raised as well in a smirk. Hyunjin was plotting against you. He sat up and leaned in close to you with his elbows situated on his knees.

"Hey...y/n…” Hyunjin cooed gently beside you, “Honey, I love you.”

You smiled faintly, still snoozing, but you responded nonetheless. "I love you too, Minnie…"

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, continuing deviously, "When’s our date?"

Your eyebrows scrunched and you mumbled something incoherently. "Bu..en..mmm… you asked me out?

"Yea, to Hogsmeade, remember silly."

"Hmmm, I dunno." you trailed off, a soft snore interrupted your thoughts. "Is about time though…"

Hyunjin leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed and a smug smirk gracing his features. He was satisfied, and what he suspected was true. Amused and planning on teasing you later, Hyunjin finally woke you up for real.

You lifted your head up and yawned as you stretched your legs, "What's the time…?"

Hyunjin shrugged, looking forward he couldn't help but smile.

"What's that look for?" You sat up and turned toward him, seeing the weird smile he put on.

"Oh nothing," he shrugged, then turned his head over his shoulder, the shit eating grin wider now. "I just discovered you talk in your sleep."

A grain of dread settled into your stomach, small yet very obviously there. The unattractive feeling must've shown on your face since Hyunjin looked very amused. You gulped, a knot began to form in your throat as you muttered, embarrassed. "What did I say?"

You've often been told you slept talk. But it was mostly around your roommates in the late hours of the night, you never talked in your sleep in the day. If you did, Seungmin would've commented on it more. You were sure of that. You stared at Hyunjin expectantly, waiting for him to answer. But he only rested his elbow on the back of the uncomfortable wooden chairs and twisted his back, stretching it out.

"Ahh, that's a conversation for another day. I'm tired and my backs killing me." He whined as he stretched his back. Then rubbed his neck with a soft smile, "The library isn't very comfortable."

There was a hint of teasing in that grin. You narrowed your eyes. "Hwang Hyunjin, whatever I said stays between us, got it?"

In response, he winked and put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. You narrowed your eyes playfully and smiled. Hyunjin stood up, the wooden chair squeaking against the floorboards, and gathered the leather-bound textbooks. Just as he turned his back toward you, he lowered his head to check the books in his arms and spoke. You noticed his hair brushed over his eyes.

“Have a good night, y/n.”

“You too.”

And so, not too long after you were sitting in the Ravenclaw common room. The tall walls lined with books from all over, old and new. Blue and bronze decorated the entire space, and the white walls stood elegantly. Exhausted and weary, but not tired enough to sleep so you just hung yourself on an armchair as Seungmin read on the floor beside you. You groaned as your head rested on the arm of the chair. Your leg draped over the opposite arm. You squeezed your eyes shut and sighed.

“Was working with him that bad?” Seungmin pulled his brows together, setting his book down and twisting around to look at you. You looked down at him, cross-legged on the floor and staring up at you. Shaking your head, you sighed again and just laid there for a moment.

“No, it wasn’t. But well, I don’t know. He’s odd.” You tried to explain, but the weariness throughout your body was impeding on your ability to think properly.

“Real descriptive.” He smiled and leaned his back against the foot of the armchair. “So, then he’s weird?”

“Well, no, but he’s not...normal? Not like it’s a bad thing, but it’s just, like he’s hiding something? I don’t know, Seungmin, like sometimes I see him and he looks so cold. And sometimes he’s so charismatic, you know?” You exasperatedly waved your hands to try to explain better, but Seungmin wasn’t even looking. He was listening, though, since he hummed thoughtfully. You continued, “I don’t know how to put it, but I can just sense something off about him. The more I think about it, the more he confuses me. You just can’t tell right away.”

Seungmin leans his head again the chair, “You’re thinking about him an awful lot.”

“Because he’s confusing.” You whined. “And now I gotta work with him for the next...oh I don’t know, a month? And it’s just going to confuse me more, it’s intellectual torture, Seungmin.”

“Oh, poor you.” Seungmin faux pouted, then let out a little laugh, “Are you sure you aren’t just, curious about him? Maybe he’s only confusing to you because you want to get to know him better. Mysteries always intrigued you.”

You pondered his words for a while, a frown settling onto your face. The sun had finally set and the only light in the common room was from the little lanterns spread about, gifting the refined room with warm orange light. Maybe Seungmin was right? But that couldn’t be the only reason to be so confused about Hyunjin. You were a naturally curious person, always have been, so it’s not impossible. In the end, you decided to drop the topic and try to go to sleep.

“Well, whatever.” You sat up and ruffled Seungmin’s hair up, “I’ll be going to bed now.”

Seungmin swatted your hand away and attempted to smooth his hair down, but it was too late. You snicker at him and stand up, making your way across the common room towards the girls' dorms. You called out, tiredly leaning onto the cold, stone walls “Goodnight, Minnie.”

“Yea, see ya.” Seungmin yawned and lifted a hand.

∎∎∎

A whole week after beginning the project, and you and Hyunjin were well on the way to making the potion. It was going very well, and in your opinion, you were beginning to befriend Hyunjin. Despite his eccentricities, he was charming to be around. It didn’t surprise you that he tended to get along with most people. While he had his moments, be it a bad mood or whatever, you tried not to dwell on it too much.

Especially since the Amortentia was looking fantastic. The potion research paper and data were all gathered and written down. All that was left was the actual brewing and then the after paper. Fun.

So, after school for four days a week, you and Hyunjin brew the Amortentia in the potions room. Which was where you were heading to, the tapping of your footsteps echoing in the spacious stone halls. The chittering of a few students accompanied the background noise. Still, you figured most students were enjoying their free, after-school leisure time and weren’t trying to wander the halls. Unlike you. Not like you minded much. You’d actually be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to this time spent with Hyunjin, the two of you actually got along quite well.

When you arrived to the potions room, you pushed the heavy wood door open with one hand while your other carried the supplies. When your eyes shifted up, the simple yet comical sight made you bark out a laugh. You experienced a short bout of Deja Vu. Because what you found was Hyunjin standing plainly in front of the cauldron, just looking down into it. He wasn’t in any sort of natural pose, nor was he leaning his weight anywhere. Hyunjin was just standing there, arms at his sides, and looking down at the caldron as if he didn’t know what to do.

He reminded you of a sim. Like from the muggle computer games.

And it amused you very very much.

“You look like a sim!” You laughed delightfully, closing the door behind you.

Hyunjin looked at you, brows pulled together in obvious confusion. He still stood in the default sim pose. “A what?”

“A sim!” You snickered, “Like when they don’t have any instructions.”

And Hyunjin just stared at you as if you were mad. He shifted his weight onto one foot and crossed his arms, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You shot him a sympathetic smile and wiped a fake tear from your eye, really playing up the dramatic act in that moment. “Ah, that’s right. You, my friend, are a pureblood and unknowing of muggle luxuries. What a shame.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “That doesn’t answer my question, what the hell is a sim? Like, a simulator? What kind of simulators do muggles run?”

The boy looked perplexed. It amused you.

You laid your books down on the table next to the cauldron and took out a couple quills. “Nope, it’s a uh, a game. Like on the computer so it’s digital and doesn’t have any real world effects.”

“What’s a computer?” Hyunjin looked intrigued now, tilting his head like a puppy with his soft brown puppy eyes. Why did this guy have to be so good-looking? It wasn’t good for your emotional capacities, aka your heart. You sighed.

“You have a lot to learn about the muggle world.” Shaking your head, you stirred the potion in the cauldron. “It’s a shame cause all of it really had progressed quite far.”

“Yea, but they don’t have magic, how advanced can they really b-”

You jumped, twirling 180 degrees to face Hyunjin behind you and cutting him off with a gasp, “You don’t know about memes!”

“What the fuck is a memes??”

Oh, you had so much to teach him about muggles. Which is what you did, and to your pleasant surprise, he seemed interested. He asked a lot of questions, which made you quite happy to explain to him. You rambled on about the muggle world as Hyunjin kept an open ear, all while beginning the brewing for the Amortentia. While muggles aren't as controversial to Slytherins as they used to be, many Slytherin and pureblood enthusiasts still turn their nose up at them.

Hyunjin, you were glad, was not one of them.

The first thing you taught Hyunjin was about gum of all things. You happened to have a pack on you and offered him some mint gum. You told him tons of muggles chewed it, but usually never swallowed it. He seemed a little confused at first. He didn’t complain and still seemed to like it though.

“Okay, so...today we added the ashwinder eggs and a handful of rose thorns” You read off of the instructions. “The potion needs to sit before we do much else with it, so we can continue brewing in about an hour. Then it has to sit for a whole nother day.”

You read over the specific instructions one more time to make sure and check yourself. While the potions ingredients were easily obtainable at Hogwarts, the procedures for it were incredibly tedious.

Hyunjin pulled a face mockingly, “Stir potion rigidly for ten and a half turns, let sit for five minutes before putting in sixteen rose thorns, blah blah blah.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” You nudged him and rolled your eyes, “don’t forget who had to get the ingredients because the bat spleens made you too squeamish.”

“You can’t blame me, those are disgusting.” Hyunjin stuck his tongue out and scrunched his nose, just by remembering the smell in the supply cabinet. He sat down and made himself comfortable, throwing his leg around the back of it so he straddled the chair. He rested his chin on it and he stared at you. “I’m bored.”

You climbed onto the table, next to the cauldron and plopped down on it. Your legs hung in the air and you just shrugged at him. “There isn’t much to do other than wait.”

“Earlier…” Hyunjin began, a hint of wonderment in his voice. “You were talking about muggle games and what they do for fun. Continue with that.”

You smiled, “Well, that’s a broad topic…”

“Oh, let’s play the one. Um… Dare and Truth?” Hyunjin tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows, then nodded to himself.

“Truth or Dare.”

“Same thing.”

Hyunjin surprised you in many ways, but you never expected to be playing truth or dare with the boy. Despite his slight confusion on how to play, it was a fun time and you ended up playing until the end. A lot more fun than you expected, actually. You’ve discovered Hyunjin was quite dramatic and a bit of a scaredy cat, refusing to partake in some of the more out-there dares you suggested. So, you were lenient on the dares since he was a newbie. Although, halfway into the hour, the game started to sound more like Would You Rather since there’s only so much two people could do with Truth or Dare.

Admittedly, you found Hyunjin very charming. He was distant in many ways, but still kind and charismatic. And oftentimes, you found yourself laughing with him. It surprised you how well the two of you connected.

“So…” Hyunjin hummed, taking his time to think of a question. “Would you rather...live as a muggle or a wizard for the rest of your life?”

You opened your mouth, then closed if after a second to think. Off the top of your head, you were about to say wizard, hands down. But as a muggle-born, your whole childhood was spent in the muggle world. Your entire family were muggles, and almost everything you knew was muggle. You loved the wizarding world, but you would most certainly feel homesick. “Um...muggle.”

Hyunjin looked surprised, “Why? That means no magic.”

He seemed perplexed, but you simply shrugged, “I love the muggle world. It’s where I grew up and where everything I know is. My family are muggles...I don’t think I could leave that behind.”

Hyunjin nodded thoughtfully, “It sounds amazing how they live so efficiently without magic…”

“It’s not as archaic as it sounds.” You laughed, “Muggles are actually very innovative. Now it’s my turn to ask you something.”

“Shoot. Oh, can I have another piece of gum?” He asked before you threw him another piece. He’s recently addicted to the mint-flavored gum you’ve been handing out. He wasn’t a big fan of gum before you, but now it just seems like he constantly asks you. The wizarding world does have gum, but it’s somewhat different from muggle gum. You guessed Hyunjin just preferred it more.

“So, would you rather risk your life for someone you love or have somebody risk their life out of love for you?” You smirked. Leaning back on the palms of your hands, you shifted; your bottom was getting uncomfortable from sitting on the tabletop for so long.

Hyunjin went silent for a moment, his expression dropped significantly. It looked conflicted and he slumped to rest his chin on the chairs back. Your smug smirk is wiped off your face as you realize you may have hit a sensitive topic for him, but you stayed silent and waited for his answer. He took his time, but he eventually looked up at you, sincerity crystal clear as he gave you your answer.

“I would rather die for love.”

The look of pure determination in his eyes caught you completely off guard. Your innocent question was answered thoughtfully by Hyunjin, who seemed to have strong feelings about it. At a loss for words, you blinked a couple times. You swallowed a sudden lump in your throat as you felt your heart thump wildly in your chest. These feelings were an unexpected turn of events, but after another moment, you smiled at him.

“That’s really endearing, I’m sure the love you feel is strong if you’re willing to risk your life for them.” You grinned warmly, then you pondered wistfully “I wonder if I could do anything like that...how that would feel to love someone so much in a moment.”

Hyunjin tore his eyes away from you, “Yea, I wonder what that feels like as well.”

∎∎∎

You sat across from Hyunjin, who was being very pouty at that moment.

Your arms were crossed, “Come on, get to work.”

He rested his chin on the table and looked at you with those big, stupid puppy dog eyes. “No.”

“We are literally in the library to do this stupid project,” You lightly whacked his shoulder, “now work.”

“I’m tired.” He whined and put his head down. His arms were splayed out on the table and pushed the numerous textbooks out of the way, ultimately messing up the study space. Hyunjin was not an easy person to motivate.

It was very late. The two of you have been in the library for four hours already, and for some reason, the Amortentia turned a weird green color. You were trying to find a way to remedy it without restarting the whole potion because it takes so long to brew. So you gathered as many potions books you could find and dropped them onto the table. All while Hyunjin attempted to work on the essay that was due with this project as well. And he was not happy with it.

“Y/n, I’m nearly dyslexic. Why did you make ME write the essay?? You’re the Ravenclaw.” He sat up and complained, throwing the quill onto the table. The light plink sound it made caused you to look up from the current book you were reading. You sighed and frowned.

“Look, I know you’re frustrated,” You then held up your textbook to face him. Allowing him to see the tragedy that was the potions book, it had itty bitty font with such confusing wording that even Shakespeare would cringe at it. “But do you REALLY want to read this horror story of a textbook. The dude who wrote this must’ve really been up his high horse. It really just sounds like a bunch of mumbo jumbo without a dictionary. He really just thinks big words and long sentences means better writing. Yikes.”

“Ah, come on it can’t be that bad.”

You gave him a look and handed him the textbook. “Okay, how about you read for a while and I’ll write?”

“Deal.” Hyunjin took the textbook and slid the parchment paper over to you, flicking it over carelessly and clearly happy to be rid of it. He obviously didn’t care much for this essay. You chuckled and shook your head.

You began by reading over what he already wrote, and it wasn’t bad, you just had to correct a few things before you started writing. Hyunjin only sat in stubborn silence, brows lowered in concentration. It’s wasn’t even ten minutes later when Hyunjin slammed the book down in frustration, “Listen, I don’t consider myself dumb. But what the hell does ‘DEFENESTRATE’ MEAN!!!???”

You calmly looked up from the paper, “The act of throwing something out of a window.”

“I’m about to throw this book out the window.” He ran a hand through his hair and took a long, heavy sigh. “Let me read it for like, ten more minutes and then we can switch back?”

“Yeah yeah, just let me know when. I bet you only last five.” You smiled and challenged him. Then got back to work, finding him a little cute.

“Yeah I’ll prove you wrong.” He muttered and began reading, this time with a dictionary on hand.

Time passed quickly, and soon ten minutes became twenty and you were getting suspicious. It was getting late and the library would be closing soon. The lights were dimming significantly as long shadows loomed through the library rows. Only about halfway done with the essay you take a quick break to see Hyunjin nose deep in the book. The worn leather bound cover clenched tight in his slender fingers as he looked slightly distressed. His hair was more ruffled up, probably from him running his hands through it a few too many times. But his expression was concerning, his lips were pulled taught and there was a heavy crease between his eyebrows. His eyes, especially, looked troubled and worried.

“Hey Hyunjin…” You called to him, concern lacing your voice.

“Hm...?” He didn’t take his nose out from the book, eyes still scanning the words of it.

“You can take a break, it’s okay. You just look...I don’t know, upset.”

Hyunjin finally looked up from the book and lowered it, you saw him swallow. His eyes darted away from you.

“What’s wrong?”

He looked at you intensely, as if he were analyzing you. Judging you. It made you fidget in your chair, shifting your weight once or twice under his burning gaze. After he looked away again, he began packing up. Quickly shoving the textbook into his bag with the rest of his supplies. He stood up, frazzled and unnerved, “I’ll check this book out, let’s get out of here and then I’ll explain.”

“Hyunjin, you’re scaring me.” You looked at him suspiciously, slowly packing your stuff up as well.

“It’s okay, I just think...I just think I know what the problem is now.” Hyunjin grabbed your hand and guided you out of the library. He took the lead since he seemed like he wanted to go somewhere specific. He was on alert and a little jumpy, walking quickly. So, you didn’t say much more and allowed him to just show you what he wanted to. Soon enough though he calmed down a little and slowed down his pace, now walking side by side with you. You were clearly confused and a little anxious, but his hand in yours calmed you a little. You weren’t sure if he just forgot to pull his hand away or if he held it deliberately, he was frazzled so it made it hard to tell. You decided not to bring it to attention.

Eventually, he pulled you around a corner and into a room you've never seen before. The door was designed differently from the other entries in the castle, it was larger. Hyunjin quickly shut it behind you and seemed to relax a little. His shoulders visibly relaxed and he took a deep breath, eyes closed.

After admiring the room, it was small. Just about half the size of a classroom but still enough room to not feel suffocated. The room was a little plain but had furniture in the middle, just a couple love seats and a coffee table. After deciding it wasn't anything special except for a lounge room, you looked to Hyunjin. You took a step towards him, "Hyunjin?"

He opened his eyes and distanced himself from the door to walk past you and sunk into one of the chairs. He motioned for you to sit across from him. And you did, waiting patiently for him to explain.

"Um...so nothings really wrong. But…" he began but trailed off soon after. As if he wasn't quite sure what to say. He folded his hands in front of him and looked to his feet.

“Then what was that all about?” You leaned forward, concerned and not quite sure of yourself. “You suddenly rushed out of the library, half-pulled me through the castle, and now we’re in a room I never knew even existed in Hogwarts.”

“Oh! About that, this is called the Room of Requirement.” Hyunjin gained a little more confidence. Seemingly to stall the inevitable conversation, he was so desperately trying to avoid. “It only appears to students who need it, and it changes depending on what the need is. And right now...I just needed a private space to talk.”

You nodded, still confused, “So it just...appears sometimes?”

“Exactly.” Hyunjin nodded and fell silent.

It stayed silent, and you just looked at him expectantly. He avoided eye contact and looked uncomfortable, shifting in his seat and fiddling with his hands.

“Hey Hyunjin…” You called, and in the most comforting voice you could, “you don’t have to tell me now if it’s this distressing for you. It’s okay, as long as you’re comfortable and when you calm dow-”

“No no, I... I want to.” He interrupted you and shook his head, but he still looked unsure of himself. Despite that, he composed himself better and calmed down. “I’m just...nervous? Maybe I’m scared.”

“You sound like you don’t know.” You said quietly.

“I’m the reason why the Amortentia isn’t working.” He said, eyes avoiding you and palms sweaty.

“Is that all?” You seemed dumbfounded, “Hyunjin, if that’s the problem then that's okay! It’s not that big of a deal, this is only a bonus project and even then, it’s not like we were going to use it anyway.”

“No no, there’s more to it. So much more.” He said delicately, choosing his words carefully. “I…”

His eyebrows furrowed as if he wasn’t sure how to continue his train of thought. He tilted his head and continued, “Do you know what happens when a child is conceived under the effects of Amortentia?”

You nodded, “Yea, the child won’t be able to feel love. That’s why Voldemort...couldn’t.”

Hyunjin frowned but nodded. “That’s right. The child can’t feel love. That-that doesn’t mean they’re inherently evil, but the feeling of love just doesn’t come to them.”

“Okay, but why did you bring this up? Voldemort’s be dead for decades.” You were thoroughly confused now. Was Hyunjin concerned about the consequences of brewing this potion? Was the potion being brewed wrong? What did he read?

“Well, turns out...if a person who was conceived under Amortentia, tries to brew it, it won’t work. The Amortentia will have the opposite effect instead...not ‘love,’ but disgust. And it turns a green color...” Hyunjin explained, much calmer now, but the nervous glint in his eyes were still present. His long fingers were fidgety and you noticed his Adam's apple bob.

“Wait, but our potion is…” Your eyes widened in realization, and your lips formed an o shape. Your eyes quickly turned sympathetic. “Oh Hyunjin…"

You quickly reassured him that it was okay and went to sit beside him. You took his one hand and held it between your own, your thumb rubbing reassuring circles over his skin. While his palms were a little shaky, he calmed down a little and proceeded to steady his breathing. Hyunjin finally got the courage to look at you, he lifted his head gently as he gauged you from behind his fringe. And you smiled, your eyes showed kindness and acceptance. You realized this explained so much about him. This was why he didn’t smell anything in the Amortentia, why he felt so cold at times, and why he wasn’t close to many people.

Hyunjin visibly relaxed, “I was afraid that you’d think I’m a monster.”

“Never, Hyunjin, I could never think that.”

“You’re unique then...most people do.” Hyunjin’s eyebrows pulled together, a sad look crossed his face as his lips tugged down. He was reminiscing, but they obviously weren’t happy memories.

You squeezed his hand in reassurance, “I don’t, and others shouldn’t either. Hyunjin, you are absolutely not a monster and people who think that just don’t understand. They...are not the end all be all.”

He nodded and smiled at you, “You know, I’m really glad I’ve met you… This might sound weird, but I don’t think I’ve felt this close to somebody before.”

“And what’s close to you?” You tilted your head, wondering what feelings he felt for you if not love.

“I can’t feel love, but it’s more like trust.” Hyunjin nodded to himself, his gaze towards the ground, “It’s like trust and safety. And I’m comfortable and happy. And well, it’s not like I don’t feel happy around our classmates, I think I get along with most people really well. But it’s kind of like...I couldn’t care less about them. And I don’t say that like I don’t see them as people, I do. But to get myself to care about them and what goes on in their lives, I just don’t.”

“Then, how am I any different?” You asked, still curious about what you did differently.

And Hyunjin only shrugged, “I just feel more comfortable with you, most people tend to say I’m cold when they try to get close to me. They would get offended that I don’t seem interested, but you just...treated me normally. You didn’t push anything and just treated me as you would anyone else. You did it with a kind heart too. I guess you could say you were very loving in a way. I think it’s something I want and seeing you in love helps me. It lets me see what being in love is like.”

“M-me, in love?” You stuttered, caught off guard at Hyunjin's sudden statement. You weren’t entirely sure what he was talking about. Maybe it was Seungmin, or perhaps it was that he noticed you were catching feelings for him. You really hoped he didn’t notice.

Hyunjin chuckled, but it sounded sad. “The relationship you have with your friend, that other Ravenclaw, Seungmin. It’s very wholesome, anybody could see the amount of love and care the two of you have for each other. It’s natural and simplistic and... I don’t know. I guess I get a little jealous.”

Feeling your face redden in embarrassment just made you even more nervous. As your heart thumped loudly, you laughed nervously. And you tried to wave off Hyunjin’s words. “How do you know I love Seungmin? He’s my best friend, of course, I love him but-”

“Remember when you were sleep talking the other day?” Hyunjin’s devilish grin made your stomach drop. He was implying that...no.

“What did I say, I swear to god if you say anything to anybody you are a dead man.”

“Just that you’ve been wanting a date with the one and only Kim Seungmin at Hogsmeade. That’s all.” He teased. Which was conflicting since he seemed much more comfortable now, but he took the liberty to tease the hell out of you.

Immediately you covered your face and buried your head in your hands. Every time you attempt to confront your feelings for Seungmin, you get too confused and flustered. So you just tended to not dwell on it, mainly since it could ruin the friendship. You didn’t want that.

“Sorry sorry,” Hyunjin was very amused and ruffled your hair up, “I’ll stop, but only because if I continue, you’d shut down completely.”

You grumbled and rolled your eyes, “You’re not wrong.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, and you thought about what Hyunjin must’ve gone through in his life, it definitely couldn’t have been easy. He was scared to tell you, and you could only imagine what happened to him before to make him that nervous. It made you a little sad. You also thought about what he said about feeling jealous. He obviously wants to feel love, he wants to love somebody but physically can’t. All because of some stupid love potion. If there was a way to help him, you would.

“Hey,” Hyunjin called out gently, “what’s it like?”

“Hm?”

“What’s it like to love somebody?”

“Oh, well, it’s probably the most comforting feeling I know. And when you’re with them, the world seems a little brighter. You focus on the little things they do, and it just makes you fall even more in love, you just can’t look away. You just feel like you’re on cloud nine and you don’t want to come down. They’re on your mind a lot, and it’s a little stressful. But only because you want the best for them and for them to be happy. I would die for somebody I loved.” You thought hard and soon after the words just spilled from your mouth, you thought about your family and friends as you described it. Trying to put it into words as best as you could. And Hyunjin only nodded thoughtfully, otherwise staying silent.

“People care about you Hyunjin, I care about you.” You urged, “I hope you remember that.”

“I will, I promise y/n.”

∎∎∎

Back in the potions room, you and Hyunjin were attempting to fix the Amortentia. And he, of course, asked for mint gum.

“Okay, so, as long as I don’t touch it anymore, it should come out okay.” Hyunjin was reading the textbook, “The potion should go back to normal by the time it’s finished.”

“Sounds great.” You stirred the green Amortentia, the color was a far cry from the pearly sheen it was supposed to have. But you were going to trust Hyunjin on this and just continue brewing. So you threw in another ingredient and just went with it. “So, what now?”

Hyunjin shrugged, “Let’s play a game. Truth or Dare?”

You perked up, your lips tugged up, “Absolutely. But you can’t say no to dares anymore, got it?”

He grimaced for a split second, nose scrunching up, “Ah fine, but that rule applies to you too.”

You flashed him a toothy grin, “Easy.”

And you played. Usually, truth or dare with only two people wasn’t that fun, but Hyunjin seemed to enjoy it. And while you guys played, he asked about muggle things as you both chewed on mint gum. It was simple and it was fun, just like how it’s always been when you were with Hyunjin. You laughed as you finally got Hyunjin to participate in the dares he originally refused to do. And Hyunjin got a kick out of teasing the hell out of you. A while passed and the atmosphere calmed down a bit, it was your turn.

“Truth or Dare.”

“Um...dare.” You smiled.

Hyunjin got quiet as he thought, then a mischievous grin pulled at his lips. “Kiss me.”

“....?” You stared at him as you try to remember if you heard that right. “I... sorry what?”

“I dare you,” Hyunjin repeated as if talking to a child, the teasing glint in his eyes, “to kiss me.”

“You’re kidding,” you whined, and your cheeks began to heat up, “you’re just teasing me…”

“No, well, yes. But it’s your rule.” Hyunjin seemed to be serious about this, “You can’t back down now.”

Your eyes trailed down to his lips, then snapped back up to his eyes. Completely unaware of what his goals for this were, you were pouting and felt conflicted. On one hand, you were catching feelings for this boy, and they were getting stronger by the day. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss him. But on the other hand, you also didn’t know why he wanted to kiss you, and there was that tiny little voice that reminded you about Seungmin. It was at the back of your conscious but it spoke up and let itself be known. You felt your palms beginning to grow sweaty and your mouth dry up, your leg began to bounce.

Hyunjin noticed your hesitation and took your hand in his, he scooted closer to you and wrapped an arm around you. He was incredibly close to you now, and as he leaned down, he was closing the distance. You were hip to hip, his one hand holding yours and the other pulled you closer. Your heart felt as if it were beating out of your chest and you were positive your ears were as red as an apple. His eyes locked onto yours, “I’ll make this easier for you, but you can’t back down. Okay?”

You swallowed nervously and fluttered your eyelashes as you looked up at him and nodded. You mumbled a quick agreement before pressing your lips to his, bringing your one hand up to cup his cheek. You were nervous, but Hyunjin was comforting for you. His touch was gentle as he held you and kissed back. The kiss was soft and delicate. Your lips moved together in just the right way. And when you finally pulled back for a breather, Hyunjin leaned back in for more. Prolonging the kiss and tightening his grip on your waist. Your hand moved to the base of his head, threading your fingers through his hair. The kiss became deeper and more fervent, the delicate touches were replaced. And you stayed like that, relishing the sudden development in your relationship, neither of you seemingly wanting to let go.

And when you finally did, you pressed your forehead against his, breathing heavily. Your eyes were on his lips, one of his best features in your opinion. Hyunjin chuckled lightly, “I enjoyed that.”

He got your attention, and you looked up into his warm eyes, and you smiled back. “Me too.”

In Hyunjin's arms, you basked in the aftermath of the kiss, and you realized one thing. Your heart was captured by this boy, and he wasn’t going to give it back. This gentle, sensitive, amazing boy had your heart now, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way. After weeks of slowly building your feelings up, he swept it from your hands and held it carefully. As you locked eyes with Hyunjin, all your feelings were communicated to him. Feelings of love, caring, and understanding. Hyunjin understood completely, and as if a final promise to you, to keep your heart safe with him, he pressed his warm lips to your forehead. A sweet, gentle kiss to protect you as best he could. And you would like to believe Hyunjin gave a piece of himself to you as well.

And then you understood. Your heart was too far gone to go back to the way it was before.

a/n: WOW it’s finally done, and it’s only part one hahahaha. I have a lot planned for this and i reaaaaally love this. I hope yall love it as well, it took a lot of effort. And I’m kinda glad I got it out near Christmas, kinda like a gift :)

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unnamedelement · 3 years

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even the WORDS studio ghibli steampunk inspired 4th age au is intriguing to me - I’d love to hear more about it!

I am so pleased you asked and I will talk about it forever. Basically, the idea is just something I write on--a paragraph or two here or there--when I'm feeling down and need a pick-me-up, though I haven't done so since May now as I've been so busy! It's set in a 4th Age Middle-earth in which all the basic things are the same, except that the technology advanced slightly differently, as if every major cultural and intellectual hub in history hadn't been wiped out in the first two ages. I mean, they have been, but the ideas were revisited and propagated instead. Which puts us in a bit of a steam era, a bit more modern warfare, I suppose (I imagine it as, like, Legend of Korra equivalent technology, but subtracting the radio broadcasting). I call it Studio Ghibli inspired because, in my head, thats the way its "animated," with similar color palettes to, say, Howls' Moving Castle, My Neighbor Totoro, and Spirited Away. The same sort of observational attention to detail, but not overwrought, and an air of the magical in the every day... It's really just a domestic sort of thing, with an added twist of the Straight Road being shut for purposes that aren't entirely clear to me yet but, somehow, tie into the technological aspect. It, at least, explains to me why the elves are so goddamn committed to technology and Middle-earth in the 4th age, in this universe, in a way that aren't in non-AUs because, well, Tolkien. The lore of this ridiculous sandbox is only very slowly evolving, but giving elves unresolvable sealonging is a certain type of hurt/comfort that is highly attractive to me. Whoops. And it is Legolas- and OC-focused, of course, because that's just who I am as a person. There is also a university in Minas Tirith because I say so, and because I need to project my woes about academia somewhere, but I try to justify this to myself by tying it into that preservation and propogation of knowledge aspect. Anyway, that was way more than you asked for! Ah well. Here is the first scene I ever wrote in this AU, because I've never actually shared it publicly, I don't think. I believe @roselightfairy has been the only one privy to my nonsensical AU drafts thus far! I usually just ramble about it in tags, but you caught me this time, ha. Thanks again for asking!

Legolas twisted the ring on his index finger distractedly as he waited for the train. It had been a long day in Minas Tirith and he was ready to return to Ithilien, to take in the rolling plains that edged the river as they flew past, for it was always only then that he could reflect, in uninterrupted silence, without hobbit tourists at his heels or the accidental shove of an impatient lady in the shops.

There were too many people in Minas Tirith for Legolas. Accordingly, and much to Aragorn and Gimli’s chagrin, it was not his favorite place.

But they understood, and that was all he could ask. He tried to schedule all of the city errands on the same day or two, because longer than thirty-six continuous hours in Minas Tirith and he became an absolute nightmare with which to coexist. For the most part, his friends and family had accepted this and he was trying, after all, but that did not make it any less obnoxious for the rest of them.

It did not help that the only place in Gondor with Sealonging-certified healers was on the fourth level of the city. A wildly insensitive choice, in his opinion, though he kept that perspective well enough to himself after Ithildim and Gimli had tried to advocate, a few years before, for the relocation of the clinic to the Healing Houses on the Sixth, in a string of rejected proposals at City Council.

Gimli would not look at Aragorn for a month after that, and so Legolas had quit his whingeing and suffered in silence the abrupt buffeting that occurred in the busy streets after his appointments. He made it his own prerogative to schedule at the end of the day so he could spend the morning with enough wherewithal to do his errands and take care of whatever sundry things he had managed to commit himself to. It kept him relatively sane and it kept his friends on speaking terms and, so, that is what he did. (And it was not as if any of them had control over the West-way being shut, so there was no point in any of them falling out over it.)

Legolas heard the heavy-huffing of the train approaching long before its lights rounded the bend of the river. He preferred to walk to the stop at the Docks than get on at the Gates because it gave his mind time to settle. Waiting that close to the river after therapy was, perhaps, not his brightest idea, but the pros outweighed the cons and what Ithildim didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Besides, it was Summer, and the cattails were up again all around the station, and a family of osprey had made the light pole by the river their nest, and it did lift his spirits to watch these things alone as the world moved on about him...

A few more people rushed the small platform as the rumbling of the train on its little steel bridge above the banks increased. Legolas only readjusted his ring, unbuckled the satchel in his lap and rummaged around for the hardtack he had bartered for Ewessel. (She would have no idea how many pieces were there originally—what she didn’t know also wouldn’t hurt her). He was just tugging on the pair of oversized leather earmuffs Gimli had given him a few years prior when he started taking the train routinely when two pairs of very familiar shoes suddenly appeared in his line of sight, and he froze—

There was no point in hurrying—he had been found out so he adjusted his earmuffs and tucked the hardtack into his cheek, noticing vaguely that the sturdier pair of boots were well-shined and dirtless, while the more slender, elvish ones were caked in mud along the edges and splashed up the shins.

He had thought Ithildim was in the Emyn Arnen buildings today. He had seen him head off that way through the trees and he had obviously been there for that was forest mud and yet here he stood with Gimli, clearly just come from their Minas Tirith office so...

He had apparently been wrong. It would not be the first time he had lost track of other people’s schedules.

The train rolled up slowly, then, and Legolas finally looked up from his seat on the bench to find Gimli at eye level—glaring at him with arms crossed—and then, looking further up, was Ithildim—hair neatly pinned back despite his other uncharacteristic untidiness—and he looked down on him with a bemused and mildly irritated expression.

Legolas did his best to offer a guileless smile.

It did not work, and Ithildim pulled him to his feet. “I thought your appointment was at 4(?), auren.”

“It was,” he said, and he shrugged. He was tired and did not want to talk yet. “I prefer walking the plains for an hour or so after, to calm my mind. I did not know you would be here.”

“You do this every time?” Ithildim asked with eyebrows raised, and then Gimli was chivvying them forward as the train doors opened and the inward-bound commuters poured out and the outward-bound ones moved forward.

“I did not know you would be here,” Legolas only said, shrugging, as they found a small table in the back of the car and piled around it.

Ithildim opened his mouth to ask again but Gimli interrupted—

“That is answer enough, Ithildim,” he said softly. “Leave him be, hm?”

“But—”

“He is always back to himself by the time he gets home, is he not? Let him do what he needs to do. He is his own keeper, Ithildim.”

Legolas was no longer watching them, and he instead stared out the window as the train moved forward and he was rocked slightly as it picked up speed. He did not notice the sound of a crinkling bag or the half sandwich Gimli slid in front of him. He did not notice Ithildim watching him wearily but intermittently as he arranged his notes on the small table, comparing a neat chart to x’s drawn on a map spread across its surface.

Outside, the sun was dipping dark but his mind was far away, and his mouth felt dry as he finally blinked and turned away from the flashing landscape.

Gimli had placed a reassuring hand by his thigh as he leaned over Ithildim’s map, and Ithildim was watching him unashamedly, silver eyes narrowed as Legolas glanced at him.

He pulled a travel mug from his backpack and handed it across the table to him.

“I take medicine for this now, you know,” Legolas said quietly, and he considered the coffee and tilted his head, waiting for Ithildim’s reply.

“I know,” he said immediately. “But you have that look in your eye that you get when…”

“Ithildim, he is his own keeper,” Gimli interrupted firmly, and Ithildim looked away. “That being said, Master Elf, it is summer again—“

“I know that—“

“—and the weather folks are predicting a mighty storm this week, which is probably why you are like this.”

Legolas picked up the coffee without a word and reluctantly drank it, and he twisted his ring again as Gimli continued:

“I’ve told Aragorn again and again that he would be much better served employing you lot for storm prediction than the fellows he has but…” he trailed off, and Legolas smiled.

“But he thinks it is unethical to use a bunch of Sea-longing elves for the protection of king and country, yes,” Legolas finished. “Honestly, those of us who are afflicted are going to suffer whether or not he consults us, so I’ve never understood his reticence.”

Ithildim looked up again and was finally smiling. “You are a bit like a barometer, in that,” he admitted. “Gimli has a point here.”

Legolas laughed. “So, what? We wait until I become uncommunicative and morose and a general pain to be around, and then we send Aragorn a warning letter? What, set smoke signals?”

“This is our stop,” Gimli was saying as he folded up Ithildim’s map and notes and shoved them into his hands. He stood up and gestured at the elves to join him. “Normal people would use the message systems, Legolas, but since you refuse to—”

“Really, Gimli?” Ithildim had pulled Legolas to his feet and was dragging him by the hand out the door. The wind was heavy beneath the eaves of the trees that overhung their stop. “We are lucky he only uses birds. Otherwise it would be constant updates about the exchange rate of rye, or flash-pictures of bread, or flowery descriptions of some lady he met in the gardens!”

As they started down the side path to the houses they shared with Saida and the children Legolas laughed again. “It is mushrooms I am fascinated with right now, Ithildim. It is painfully obvious sometimes that you do not listen when I speak.”

“Mushrooms?” he asked, turning to Gimli.

“That is his current passion project, yes. Have you not been in the downstairs bathroom recently?”

“Thank you, elvellon. I am so relieved someone listens to me.”

“Eru, Legolas, you know the downstairs bathroom is supposed to be for Ewessel so she doesn’t slow anyone else down in the mornings.”

Legolas had walked past them now and was several feet ahead as the main house came into sight. He shrugged and turned, walking backward. “It was her idea, Ithildim. You can take it up with her. I am in her good graces now, and I am not playing with the fire of adolescence to tell her no on your behalf.”

Gimli was laughing now and then Legolas had turned and took off toward the house. By the time they arrived a few minutes later, the lights had all been turned on or lit and Legolas was at the kitchen table with Ewessel herself, helping her with her schoolwork.

He barely looked up as they entered. “Stew on the stove,” he said quietly, and Ithildim sighed to hear the distance in his voice.

The door swung in again as Saida came in with Alfirinion at her heels—

“Smells like rain,” she announced as she slipped off her shoes and dropped her bag to the ground.

Alfirinion was just unloading his bag and armful of books onto the table inside the door when the house shook with a loud crash of thunder, and the building sound of rain—gentle to pounding and persistent—began to beat at the house.

Ewessel looked at Legolas, who had gone still beside her, and turned to her family. “I have known for days it would rain tonight. He is better than any weather report, if you are paying attention.”

“Ewessel,” Saida said with quiet admonishment, and she walked up and pressed a kiss to her niece’s forehead before settling down beside Legolas. “How about an early night?” she said to him quietly. “We can talk about our project tomorrow evening.”

Legolas cleared his throat and looked at his hands. “Yes, I think that would be good. The table isn’t…”

“Ewessel will set the table, won’t she?” Saida said lightly, and Ewessel closed her ledger and sprang to her feet. The dining room and kitchen were suddenly in motion and Legolas sat silent in his seat, until he dropped his head, defeated, into his hands, waiting for the sound of the rain to stop sounding like the crashing of waves at the shore.

“Tell us next time you notice, child,” he could hear Saida saying from the stove, and there was muttering under breath before Ewessel and Alfirinion were back in the room, placing a bowl at each seat.

There was the scraping of chairs around him, and then the feel of a cool glass pressed against his hand.

“It is just water, Legolas,” Ithildim was saying at his shoulder. “Drink, auren. The wide world is still here.”

And so he drank and ate and listened to his friends talk.

Alfirinion had had an argument with a peer at Rangers (though he had won, because debate team and shadowing Arwen over the summer had apparently paid off), and Ewessel was displeased no one wanted to see her forestry project (which, to be fair, was a log covered in mushrooms she had taken from Legolas’ project in the bathroom, so no one was particularly empathetic). Saida had made progress on curriculum redesign in her department at the main university, and Gimli and Ithildim had gotten clearance to start a project they were partnering on, to bring heated, running water to a new town outside Osgiliath.

Legolas, however, had only made stew. Had run errands for the family and for his business. Had gone to his appointment. Had lost himself to the wind and left his family fumbling.

But the stew was, at least, enjoyed, and that was better than nothing...

After dinner, everyone gathered in the sitting room to listen to Alfirinion practice his closing arguments for his competition and, eventually, Legolas fell asleep between Ithildim and Gimli on the couch. The last thing he was aware of was someone slipping headphones over his ears and dropping the needle on the phonograph so his senses were flooded with crackling birdsong, and then there was a blanket about his shoulders, and he was gone.

#nerysvevo #asks #my au #my fanfiction #this fic has accidentally gotten a plot tho which made me mad #because i was writing it to be comforting #but it is fun #and i wish i had the art skills to illustrate it #because it is absolutely and unbelievably a beautiful little world in my head!#long post #sry

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ailuro-mania · 4 years

Text

Inukag Week 2020: June 12th *Instinct*

It’d been almost a year now since Kagome’s return to the feudal era and summer was just rounding the corner again. Fireflies spread across the grassy field in front of Sango and Miroku’s hut. They’d chosen to live just a bit of a distance from Kaede’s village but close enough to keep guard. And in result, a lot more wildlife circulated their little hut to Kagome’s joy.

Two little twin girls spun in circles in the taller parts of the grass, clapping their hands together in attempt to catch some of the fireflies. Which, when they did, Yaiyoi would typically scream in disgust while Natsumi would laugh in her own little evil way, attempting to wipe off the little bug carcass on Yayoi’s kimono. Kagome couldn’t guess why Yaiyoi was even trying to smash the flies between her bare hands other than to impress her elder sister, or get her revenge. Which wasn’t a normal trait for the girl, she was typically the calmer one.

Though a year had passed, the young priestess still had yet to make friends with Natsumi the way she had with Yaiyoi and Sango’s little boy, Haru. Natsumi didn’t seem to be too interested in what Kagome had to offer, all she saw was the lady who stole her uncle Inu away. A small crush had been formed during her absence, Kagome knew that much. And Inuyasha had such a weak spot for the girls, even if he pretended he didn’t around others. But little Natsumi’s jealousy only grew when Kagome’s pregnancy had been announced. It’d been 8 months since and Natsumi still refused to look the priestess in the eye. But Kagome refused to give up, she was going to win this girl over one day.

“Girls!” Sango popped out of the hut with Haru balanced on a hip, “Dinner is ready! And unless you want to go hunt for your own tonight I suggest you hurry up and get in here before I feed it all to the village dogs!”

Kagome smiled and watched as the two girls jumped at their mothers voice and quickly brushed themselves off, racing back to the hut. Before they reached the door, Sango put out a hand and raised her brows. “I know you aren’t coming in here with dirty hands.”

“Awww, mooom,” Natsumi complained, scrunching her nose and puckering her lips in anger. “I wiped them off in the grass!”

Sango shook her head and pointed towards a water bucket with her free hand that was kept at the corner of the hut, a silent demand.

Both the girls followed through, Natsumi making as much noise as possible, making sure everyone within proximity knew of her annoyance while Haru started up a giggle fit watching as his highly entertaining sisters fight over who got to wash their hands first.

Sango blew out a breath of air, lifting her bangs. She looked over at Kagome who remained sitting on the bench outside their hut, still smiling fondly at the two girls. The demon slayer shifted her son to her other hip and offered a hand out to Kagome, which Kagome took with relief. Most all her weight depended on Sango for a solid second, though the brunette could easily handle lifting her heavily pregnant best friend up off a bench.

“Come, I made boiled chicken. And you’re staying with us until both Miroku and Inuyasha return tonight from their job. I won’t have you walking back to your hut alone in the dark,” Sango chided.

Kagome rolled her eyes at her, hands unconsciously resting at the top of her swollen belly. “You don’t think I could fight off demons and evil humans with this belly, hm?”

Sango laughed and shook her head. “Perhaps. But I think Inuyasha would prefer you not use the womb that holds his child as a fighting tool.”

“Pfh,” Kagome scrunched up one side of her nose with a small wink, “I can take him too.” The priestess lifted both fists and gently bumped them onto Haru’s side as he continued to giggle. He was always such a happy boy.

Natsumi came running between the two women, almost tipping Kagome over on the way. Kagome gasped but was thankfully, once again, caught by Sango.

“Natsumi!” Her mother scolded, “You’ve better have a nice apology to be said right this instant.”

The girl looked over at her mother and back towards the dinner pot that hovered over the fireplace in the middle of the hut. “Sorry.”

Once Kagome had her feet planted firmly on the ground again she shook her head, “It’s okay. She probably didn’t think I’d lose my balance so easily.”

Sango pressed her lips together in a tight line but said nothing further. She quietly lead Kagome back into the hut making sure Yaiyoi followed and set Haru down in a small play pin made of smooth wood, quickly placing a kiss to the top of the boys head.

Natsumi and Yaiyoi kneeled down around the firepit holding their bowls out in front of each other, awaiting their mother to serve them. Sango served them both before grabbing a bowl for herself and Kagome, joining her friend closer to the wall where she could rest her back against. She handed her the priestess her serving before kneeling down next to her.

“So have you thought of any names?” The demon slayer questioned after taking a few bites.

Kagome’s smile was contagious, her eyes instantly lighting up at the topic chosen. “Well, not really. Inuyasha sorta put the naming thing on me, and I’m awful at naming… All my dolls as a child were named after some J-Pop group I enjoyed simply because they resembled them…” she stopped her explanation realizing she lost Sango at the mention of J-Pop. She cleared her throat and shook her head, “I just don’t want to name her something silly and have her stuck with it her whole life.”

Sango straightened up at the mention of gender, “Her?”

A flush came across Kagome’s cheeks and she took another bite of her food before setting the bowl down and resting her hands back against her belly. “I think she’s a girl. I just have this feeling, and these dreams. I can never remember them, but I do know there’s always a butterfly. A small yellow butterfly.”

Sango’s brows pulled together, clearly about to ask a question but Yaiyoi came skipping over and plopped herself down right in front of Kagome.

“I think she’s a girl too!” Yaiyoi shouted gleefully, reaching out and tenderly placing her hands against Kagome’s stomach. The girl squealed delightfully when she felt movement coming from within, her eyes lighting up. “See? She’s telling us she is!” Yaiyoi leaned in, her face set in determination. “Baby, if you’re a girl kick once! If you’re a boy, twice!”

A few moments passed between the three before a very solid, surprising, kick pressed against the small girls hands. Another squeal erupted from her as she jumped up and danced around.

Kagome giggled and Sango smiled, pulling Yaiyoi down into her lap, smothering her girl with kisses.

“I didn’t know my girl was a fortune teller,” she teased before placing another kiss to the top of her daughters head, trapping her between her arms.

“Mother!” she struggled against the strong arms. Sango laughed and released her.

Natsumi watched the ordeal from her original sitting spot. Another girl only meant more attention stolen from her uncle. Not that she would be terribly excited for a boy, either. All of those options simply meant losing her uncle’s undivided attention for the few hours she got to see him during the day.

Haru begun to cry from his corner in the play pin, clearly upset he wasn’t involved in the fun his mother, aunt, and sister were having. Sango huffed out a breath and glanced at Kagome, “I hope you’re ready for the crying as much as you are for the giggles,” she teased her friend as she got up from the floor and made her way over to her baby boy. Swiftly lifting him up into her arms she excused herself and walked out into the night. The moon always seemed to calm the boy down, Kagome knew that much after having babysat the child on nights his mother and father needed alone time.

Yaiyoi sat up and grabbed Kagome’s hand, whispering excitedly “Do you think she’ll have uncle Inu’s ears?”

“I do hope so,” Kagome whispered back with the same excitement.

Yaiyoi gasped, eyes widening.

Natsumi rolled her own eyes and got up from the ground making her way over to her sister and aunt. The four year old crossed her arms and peered down at Kagome.

The priestess simply looked up at her niece, a small questionable smile playing on her lips. “Yes Natsumi?”

The elder twin plopped down on her knees and smacked Kagome’s belly. “I think the babies stupid,” she spat out.

A gasp stunned all 3 occupants of the hut, Sango stood in the doorway with a sleepy Haru, her brown eyes laced with anger. “Natsumi!” She scolded.

That woke the boy back up, tears starting to surface once more along with a wail. Sango grunted in frustration and leaned her sons face into her shoulder bouncing him up and down.

Meanwhile, Kagome’s eyes trained on her eldest niece, hands over where her belly had just been offended. “It’s okay,” the priestess spoke aloud to Sango.

“No, no it is not! Natsumi when your father gets h-“

Something pulsed in the air, the hut suddenly filling with an disturbingly strong aura. Kagome gasped and doubled over, her hands pressed tightly against herself. Haru continued screaming against Sango’s shoulder and the twins both jumped up. Yaiyoi quickly put her hand against her aunts back calling to her mother while Natsumi backpeddled.

Sango was quick, gently placing her upset child into his resting crib and pulling Yaiyoi away from Kagome. Not that she thought Kagome would hurt any of her family, but this wasn’t normal. Kagome was nowhere near due. The demon slayer wrapped an arm around Kagome’s back, pushing her dark raven locks out of her face.

“Kagome? Kagome can you look at me?”

Kagome groaned out in response, shaking her head. She’d begun trembling in the slayers arms.

This aura wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sango knew it well from the past, it felt like Inuyasha’s when he turned full demon. Only Inuyasha wasn’t here, and he certainly wasn’t a full demon. The brunettes eyes fixed on Kagome’s belly that was hidden protectively by Kagome herself. Her friends eyes were squeezed shut and seemed to be whispering to herself between gasps.

Loud footsteps smacking against the wooden floor broke Sango’s attention when she was suddenly jolted and pulled away by her husband. Swiftly realizing he’d done so to protect her from a growling half demon that’d already wrapped his mate in his arms instinctively. The markings on his cheeks prominent, burying his face onto the side of Kagome’s cheek begging her in question if she was okay. His hands rested against Kagome’s while his person being pressed up behind her.

Miroku gently pulled his wife up to her feet, “What happened?”

Haru’s continued screaming started to ring in Sango’s ears, head shaking, “I… Natsumi hit her stomach, she… well, you know her! She was getting jealous and… and then this aura surrounded us and Kagome started to scream and…”

Kagome gasped out painfully once more, tears hitting the wooden floor underneath her. Inuyasha’s grip tightened, but his head snapped toward Sango, a feral rage swirling behind golden hues.

He was acting on his yokai, Sango knew that. This wasn’t his normal reaction and Kagome was in pain. Sango shook her head once more in response to his unasked questions.

The air seemed to return back to normal then, Kagome’s gasps for air evening out. The aura dissipated and the priestess relaxed in her husband’s arms. “I’m okay,” she hoarsely whispered.

Inuyasha waited a full minute before slightly loosening his grip as he pulled Kagome up to her feet with great care. The priestess had her sweaty forehead pressed against his shoulder with her eyes closed.

Sango stepped forward but Miroku gripped her wrist, preventing her from going any further. Which was probably for the better. Inuyasha’s cheek markings still surfaced though his sclera never once turned red. The slayer Inuyasha carry her friend out of their hut not once sparing a word or glance at her or her family.

*******

Inuyasha’s temper didn’t budge by the time he got Kagome home to their own personal hut. His markings faded, sure, but a continued growl emanated from his chest the entire run back home. She was still easy to carry in his arms, his caution grown by tenfold since her pregnancy.

The hut was dark but warmed from the summer sun. Still he snatched a quilt from nearby and sat down on their futon, back against the wall, stretching the quilt out and wrapping it around his wife. She’d been quiet since their departure from Sango and Miroku’s. Her eyes were focused on his feet as if they were the most interesting things in the world to her at that moment.

He quietly wrapped his arms around her once more on the outside of the quilt, his forearms resting above her belly. “Are you suddenly not interested in sharing your emotions with me?”

A soft sigh and blow of air from her nose was her only response.

Inuyasha’s eyes narrowed, lifting one clawed hand up and turning her chin to look at him. Her eyes adverted but he could read her like a book. “Kagome.”

“Inuyasha.”

Another growl begun to surface, “Damnit woman, are we just not going to talk about this?”

She pursed her lips and slipped her chin out of his grip. “I don’t know what there is to talk about, it happened. It’s over. I’m fine.”

“You weren’t FINE! You were hardly breathing and your damn heartbeat was flying! Kagome you were in pain!”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle!” She countered, shifting to get out of his arms and from between his legs. “You don’t need to hold me like I’m going to break, I’m okay, Inuyasha.”

His yokai screamed at him to tighten his grip but he knew better, he knew he’d lose the battle regardless. So he loosened it, letting her slip out and lean forward. “Kagome…”

“I don’t know what happened,” she admitted, “I know Natsumi hit my stomach but it didn’t hurt, promise. Then I felt a massive heat surface from within and it felt like I was being burned. I couldn’t breathe, you’re right. But it stopped, right? So I’m fine. We’re fine. She was just being a little girl, she was getting jeal-“

Inuyasha’s growl heightened, “You don’t need to defend the runts I know how they are.”

“And I know how you are. Natsumi didn’t… She was angry. She’s four.” Kagome struggled to turn around, Inuyasha helping her the best he could. She whispered a soft thank you and placed her hand on his cheek.

“We’re okay.” She assured him once more, her brown eyes boring into his with every ounce of adoration she could possibly express to him.

Inuyasha’s ears twitched but he nodded his head and leaned forward to press his forehead to hers. “I was so fucking worried.”

Kagome smiled and brushed her fingers through his thick hair, down to the nape of his neck. Her free hand lifted under his chin to bring his lips to hers, sharing a soft kiss within the darkness of their home. “You were acting on instinct.”

Golden eyes peered back up at her after she had pulled away. He exhaled an entire breath and adjusted himself into the futon, tugging at her kimono to get her to join him.

A small, breathy laugh and she laid right down next to him, never being able to deny him.

His arms wrapped around her once more, face burying into the back of her neck. He breathed in her scent and let himself relax against her back. Kagome took his hands and placed them against her stomach, resting her own on top of his. They stayed like that as Kagome drifted off and let herself be claimed by sleep.

*******

Later that night Kagome’s back was caught in a drift of summer air, keeping her breath even, she still felt four hands pressed against her.

Inuyasha had been making small noises Kagome rarely ever heard from him. Soft yips and chitters quietly spoken to her belly. She chanced peaking one eye open to look down at her husband. His forehead was nearly pressed against her as he leaned over, legs crossed. Watching in awe, letting him continue his chat with their unborn child. He had never used this language in front of Kagome. Or at least, not when he knew she had heard.

It lasted maybe another minute before Inuyasha realized his mate had woken up. His cheeks lit up pink the moment their eyes met.

“I… I uh…”

Kagome smiled affectionately, leaning up a bit and reaching her hands out to him. Once he was in her grasp she put all her weight on him to attempt at pulling him down. He sat there awkwardly before giving in to his wife’s demand and letting her tug him down.

She kissed him passionately, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him in place.

Stunned, but not against it, he returned the kiss, putting both hands on either side of her head to hold himself up and avoid any of his weight on her front.

“’Gome,” he tried.

A grin spread across her lips and she let him up.

“What was that for?” He demanded, his cheeks still tinted pink from being caught.

“I love you. I love you so much,” She pulled him down again, lips pressed harder onto his.

He laughed into the kiss, fangs scrapping against her bottom lip.

Once again, she let him pull away. His lit eyes rang with question though his face was brandished with a lopsided grin.

“What were you saying?” She finally broke the silence.

Inuyasha cleared his throat, this time it was his turn to advert his eyes. “I… I was just seeing if they’d respond to it.”

“And?”

“And… they did. They kicked a lot.”

“But what did you say?” She pressed once more.

He shrugged.

“Inuyasha!”

“Kagome!”

She frowned and dropped her arms from around his neck with a pout. “I take back my kisses.”

“Oh? You can’t do that.”

“I just did,” Kagome turned herself over to the right, her back facing where he kneeled.

Inuyasha sighed out and brushed a lose strand of hair from her face. “I was making sure the pup was okay.”

Kagome spared a glance at him, looking away just as quickly.

“… And thanking them. I know what they did hurt you, but I think they were protecting you. Or trying to. They’re developed enough, but I fear maybe… Maybe their stronger than even I am if they can emit that aura,” he sighed out.

She finally made full eye contact with him, turning herself back around and placing her hands back onto her stomach, chewing on her lip to think of a response.

He frowned at that, lifting up his hand and taking her lip out from under from her own teeth.

“I think you’re right. I think… she’s very strong. Especially with both spiritual and demonic energies combined. For the longest time I feared that I wouldn’t be able to carry her this far. I feared that somehow we’d counteract children of our own, but she’s put up a fight to be with us. And she’s getting ready to be here, to protect our little family. She’s going to be feisty,” Kagome smirked and rested a hand on her beloved’s cheek, “and kami, I know she’s going to have your drive. You’re going to be such a great father, Inuyasha.”

Kagome swore she saw tears build up in his eyes before he leaned down to press yet another kiss onto her lips.

A giggle was shared between her lips and his, her arms wrapping back around his neck. He’d finally settled down against her, Kagome mindlessly running her fingers through his locks as she quietly contemplated names for their child.

#im sorry i wrote one of them that way theyre sweethearts i KNOW IT #anyway #i hope this is enjoyable aheh #inukag #inukag fanfiction #inukag week #inukag 2020 #fanfiction #inu x kagome #inuyasha #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag week 2020 #god im bad at tags

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aaluminiumas · 4 years

Text

Puppet

M-RATED. TW: BLOODPLAY, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF VIOLENCE

If you want to read the whole fanfic, don’t hesitate to do it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21384370

Doflamingo, habitually sprawled across his armchair, was enjoying quiet sounds of jazz that seemed to crawl under his skin. Tranquility of the dimly lit room was spreading across his tired muscles, the notes were flowing through his veins: only a few were allowed to enter the chamber, and currently the King of Dress Rosa was relishing his solitude – and power he wielded. He no longer needed to gain authority; now he possessed not only money and influence but also resources of the whole country; after obtaining the position of Shichibukai, he re-confirmed the right to ascend the throne and to rule single-handedly.

But there was something that didn’t go according to his plan: Caesar postponed the development of the weapon due to some unpredictable circumstances, Kaido demanded certain guarantees, and a feeble attempts at rioting sparkled across all over Dress Rosa every once in a while. Of course he squashed such rebellions easily but they got on his nerves even more than anything else: he hated wasting time in vain, and none of his family members would eliminate the insurgents quietly – they were so much into cruel performances.

His thoughts were interrupted by a subtle knock on the door. In a moment, a tall pale woman emerged in the room: her yellow avian eyes looked in front of her but never at the figure on the armchair. Yes, he awaited her: for some vague reason, news from Punk Hazard did not reach Dress Rosa, and Caesar, extremely lazy when it came to writing, ended up sending reports twice a week which clearly was not enough. The only person who could elucidate on the current situation was Monet – discreet, attentive and incredibly smart secretary copying and rectifying long lines of chemical gibberish by day as well as by night.

“Young Master?” came her low indifferent voice which nonetheless contained a hint to her trademark sly smirk. “I received your order.”

Sweeping his eyes over her, he idly shifted in his cushion automatically spotting a thick folder in her arms: Clown never took care of his documents. Gaze casted elsewhere and remained averse to her position. Not out of disrespect or neglect, but because he simply was that comfortable around her. Such was the aura of a debonair, perfectly calm, beguiling.

“Monet…” his deep, pensive calling would hopefully bring her further into the room, seated in the intense shade of closed curtains and oak brown overtones, the King's actual seating was quite the distance from the door. Despite that, he would relay his words to the other with simplicity, being the only two beings within the chamber. "You’ve got something for me?"

“Quite a lot, in fact.” Throughout the years spent at his feet, intent and careful, Monet learnt all the intonations of his: she knew when he was relaxed; by a mere sound she could guess whether he was angry or just irritated; just a word escaping his lips could tell her more about his mood than his gestures — cunning, powerful man, Doflamingo was aware of the ways to deceive those around him by his visible tranquility and taciturnity. But not Monet. “I have reports on Caesar's work as well as Vergo's documents. And… on a side note… Law is in the lab, too. Probably this is something you would like to know, Young Master.”

This must’ve put him on guard: his relaxed hands slid across the armrests, the nails scratched the wood. She expected him to loathe the idea, but she had never seen him to lose him temper in a heartbeat – high time to deflect his attention by the latest scientific achievements made by Clown.

Respectful, Monet hovered over to her Master, gently placing the papers on the tiny table to his left, and pulled out one document. “This is the main weapon Caesar is currently working on. You may be interested in the details, expense and the rest.” she extended her hand — and offered him her trademark sly grin exposing her sharp teeth.

Law?..

Her ruses didn’t go unnoticed: Doflamingo grabbed one of the offered papers but his thoughts rushed back to Flevance – his mind immediately wandered towards the town leveled to the ground in mere hours, to the tragedy that stupefied the rest of the world, to the grave that released only one prisoner – that boy with hollow eyes. Trafalgar, who was taken in with open arms, taught multiple trades to… betrayed the Family. That would’ve been the first time Doflamingo heard of Law’s current location. He was smart to keep away, but an appearance at Clown's Laboratory? It could only spell trouble. Trouble he decided to keep from his immediate expression, rather sulking in the thought of Law's insubordination.

Lanky digits gripping the opposite ends of the paper, withholding it before him, inspecting thoroughly. Along with that simper of hers.

“Hm.” Granted he, dismissing the sheet of paper at his side, where the bulk of the pile lay. Had the Surgeon plagued his mind that easily? Well, possibly. Although, if one were privy to the psyche of Doflamingo, they could expect it not being readily shown on his persona. His plight to stay imposing, an-ever winding road indeed. “What sort of man do you take me for?”

Monet was surprised by the question but didn’t reveal it: when Doflamingo asked, one was expected to answer – this unwritten rule of the Family she had learnt better than others. Sadistic to an extent, she felt no fear at the tortures she was exposed to, but she barely wanted to become the object of those.

“Intelligent and insidious, Young Master.” Her voice didn’t jump up a notch: collected as usual, the woman was standing in front of him, taking in the sight of his tall, muscular figure. Swarthy, derisive, sarcastic complexion; that constant smirk upon his lips. Thin aristocratic fingers always pulling the imaginary strings.

Relaxed manners.

Quick.

“Highly attractive. Powerful. Strong.” Adjectives escaped her lips without a hindrance: she spoke her mind honestly, aware of his attitude to a lie. He could kill her right here, and if he wished so, he wouldn’t waste his precious time. He would shut her up by a single gesture – but nothing happened: she was still standing in front of him, glaring into the hidden eyes of her Master.

Subtly, the middle digit twitched briefly, this in turn manipulating a thread between them; another lax move of the string connected at the evergreen-haired female’s chin – and she rose her head a little. Seeking to reel her in close, preferably on the knees, as comfort would persist. In joint, the Powerful, Strong, Highly Attractive Monarch rose from the seat’s back-support, meeting Monet's face with his. Despite the current turn of the situation, she was far from danger and to put it into perspective, in front of him was simultaneously the most secured and vulnerable one should ever feel. The Harpy did not utter a single sound: even knowing that may be her last evening at the palace, she evinced no fright, albeit any other one would have been shivering at the sight of Doflamingo Donquixote. Calm as ever, unmoving, she kept glaring at the tanned complexion slightly sneering with the corner of her lips.

A heated breath, passing onto her snow-tinted ear. Then came the low crooning of his tone.

“Then why is it, that you only report to me with bad news? Am I not deserving of anything good? Is that what you're trying to tell me?”

....

#one piece #op #doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo #monet #doflamingo x monet

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kikizoshi · 4 years

Text

Fyolai OTP List

Original list taken from sonse’s The Ultimate OTP Questions List: Fyogol Edition

I urge anyone interested in my list to go look at sonse’s, too. They have a lot of cool takes. (There’re 48 questions in total.)

1. Who is the most affectionate?

Neither of them are super affectionate or touchy-feely, really.. I guess you could say that Fyodor’s more touchy, but even then it’s usually only fingertips… But yeah, usually there isn’t much touching in general.

2. Most common argument?

Argument… Well, it’s hard to really call it an argument. Usually, Nikolai’ll get upset at Fyodor not seeing him as a person or manipulating him and go off for a few days or weeks until he can come back and pretend he was never upset. Fyodor, for his part, doesn’t acknowledge it and just welcomes Nikolai back when he returns.

3. Who apologizes first?

Well... Fyodor's too arrogant to assume he's done something wrong, and Nikolai's too prone to brush past things he doesn't want to think about... So they kinda just leave it to fester in the corner and continue about their days.

4. Favorite (non-sexual) activity to do together?

It depends on the mood. But, most commonly, Fyodor's favourite activity is to curl up in a private place (library, nook, underground base, etc.) with Nikolai and read with him, each occasionally sharing thoughts or questions--or even conversations--about their individual books. Nikolai's favourite activity, however, is taking Fyodor out to a carnival, or the theatre, or a fair--something fun and flashy.

5. Who drives and who rides shotgun?

Public transportation~ (though, in cases where that's not possible, it just depends on location and need, so probably about 60/40 for Nikolai and Fyodor.)

6. Who is most likely to carry the other?

Nikolai's way more likely to carry Fyodor as, well, Fyodor'd struggle to lift someone his own weight. That being said, I don't see this happening unless out of necessity, as they're both fairly independent.

7. Nicknames?

Russian ones? Yes, probably. I imagine Nikolai'd call Fyodor Fedya (since he calls him Dos-kun in Japanese), and Fyodor... he'd probably just stick with the name Nikolai (or maybe “golubchik” (little dove) on rare occasions?).

8. Who proposes?

Ehh, I highly doubt they'd get married, since Nikolai's all 'society's norms are hellish brainwashing' and Fyodor likely just doesn't care (it’d be a hassle for nothing).

9. Who sings along to the radio?

Nikolai, though it's rarely lyrics since all Fyodor listens to is classical pieces or old operas Nikolai can't decipher. He'll hum along quite a lot, though.

10. Who worries most?

I feel like Nikolai's more of a worrier in general. Like, in his moments of downtime, with nothing to distract him from the futility of his goals, he'll worry and worry about what he should do, what he's doing, how what he'll do will affect the future, etc. Fyodor's more sure of himself, so I don't see him worrying about much. Maybe about Dazai, though...

11. Who always wants to take selfies with the other?

Nikolai would secretly like to (though not so secretly, considering how perceptive Fyodor is), but Fyodor won't let evidence of himself in a location be found, lest the picture be stolen and used against him. Nikolai usually doesn't mind, though, unless they're in a once-in-a-decade place. He complained about not being able to hold onto mental pictures like Fyodor once, when they went to see a travelling fair that was doing its last tour.

12. Who likes to playfully tease the other?

Nikolai, completely. He'll enter the room with a joke, and leave it that way too, as well as adding them in the whole way through. Fyodor, though, I'd say teases back almost as much, just more subtly and in response. Nikolai initiates the teasing, and Fyodor finishes it with a tease.

13. Who has the weirdest taste in music?

Depends on your definition of weird. Fyodor listens to mainly classical and old operas, stuff like that, whereas Nikolai's more into modern things with some sort of twist (experimental jazz or electric swing, for example). He also loves musical theatre.

14. Who remembers what the other always orders at a restaurant?

Well Fyodor remembers everything Nikolai's ever ordered when they were together... Using a word like 'always', though... Fyodor remembers what Nikolai ordered but Nikolai usually gets something different each time, and Fyodor's more uniform with his palate choices, but still tends towards trying out new things half the time. Fyodor could guess what Nikolai was going to get, though.

15. Who is embarrassed to take their clothes off in front of the other?

Hm, neither of them are.

17. Who initiates kisses?

Depends on the situation, so I'd say about 50/50. Neither of them are touchy-feely, as I've said, and kissing is only slightly more common than hugs for them. But, generally, Fyodor kisses Nikolai when Nikolai's having a rough day, or when he's trying to get Nikolai to want to do something. Nikolai kisses Fyodor when he's in a really good mood, or when he's really in a bad mood... I'm not sure how to put it properly though...

18. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

They don’t, really.

19. Who kisses hardest?

I honestly don't know... I really liked the second half of sonse's answer though.

20. Who is most ticklish?

Nikolai.

21. Who brings an animal they found home?

Fyodor would kill the animal to put it out of its misery.

Nikolai would just walk past and think that there's no point in helping.

22. Who holds the umbrella for the other when it’s raining?

Nikolai, since he's taller and his arm doesn't tire as easily.

23. Who tries to playfully embarrass the other in public?

Neither, embarrassing each other isn't something they do.

24. Who kills the scary bugs?

I mean neither of them are afraid of bugs-

25. Who asks the weird questions at random in the middle of the night?

Nikolai'll wake up from any number of bizarre dreams, and, if Fyodor's still awake, he'll bring it up.

26. Who hogs the blankets?

Fyodor. If he's asleep, his subconscious will do all in its power to make him as warm and comfortable as possible, even if it means the freeze of his dear friend (Nikolai usually just ends up draping himself in his cape at that point).

27. Who wakes up first?

Nikolai wakes up first since he goes to sleep earlier, though he only wakes up first by about thirty minutes.

28. Who wants to stay in bed just a bit longer?

Depends... Fyodor's good about getting up when it's a workday, and on the rare day's he'll take off, he still usually gets up quickly to make the most of the day, and drags himself off to the shower. Nikolai, on the other hand... Well, it depends on several things. If he's alright or moderately alright, he'll get out of bed just fine. However, if he killed someone in the month or just, in general, can't stand himself, it'll be a lot harder to convince him to get up. Some days even a gun to his head won't get him out of bed.

29. Who always makes coffee for the other each morning?

Neither. Ivan makes Fyodor's tea and Nikolai makes his own.

30. Who cries during certain films or when reading sad books?

Haaaah, well I guess if Nikolai was in a really, really, really (and I mean REALLY) bad place, something might set him off, and a few tears may fall. It's super uncommon though--he usually just bottles his emotions until he can 'forget' about them.

31. Who gets scared during horror films?

Neither of them scares easily at all.

32. Who cuts the other’s hair?

They both cut their own.

33. Who says “I love you” first?

Fyodor says it first, as a way to get Nikolai fully on his side. Nikolai’s said it a few times, in despair, but always pretends it didn’t happen afterwards.

34. Who tells their friends/family about the relationship first?

Well there isn't really a 'relationship' to tell about? They don't classify their relationship as anything other than lovers and friends, and there’s really no point in mentioning it randomly.

35. What do their friends/family think about the relationship first?

Well... Pushkin hates Fyodor, always has and always will, and considering how their relationship started... Pushkin does have a reason. Goncharov doesn't care. Fyodor's mother and sister vaguely know about Nikolai. They've met him maybe once or twice, but they just know him as 'Fyodor's friend'. Turgenev... it's best to say that his relationship with Fyodor is... turbulent... but when they end up talking their conversations are usually very fascinating (if they can get over their mutual disdain, that is). Mishima flat-out couldn't care less, why is this being brought up to him?

36. Who is more likely to ask the other to dance with them?

Nikolai, probably, after being moved by Dostoyevsky's cello playing.

37. Who cooks best?

I'd say they're about the same.

38. Who wears the other’s jacket?

Neither. Nikolai needs his for his Ability and Fyodor's the one that gets cold easily. Nikolai does, however, keep a spare cloak in his Overcoat just in case (though whether or not he’ll offer it to Fyodor depends on his mood, and Fyodor never asks).

39. Who uses cheesy pickup lines?

Nikolai.

40. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Both, but in different contexts. Nikolai spontaneously gets ideas from things around them, and excitedly likes to share them with Fyodor on a whim. Fyodor likes to respond to them with a small quip to encourage the idea, though he sometimes does them just in general if he's super bored at a social gathering or something. In any case, they usually do it in a language no one else around is likely to speak.

41. Who makes the other laugh most?

Fyodor makes Nikolai laugh all the time, though those laughs are always sort of fake (like an extreme version of a small, polite chuckle). Sometimes, though, when Nikolai's in a really good mood, the laughs will be genuine. On the other hand, Nikolai tries to make Fyodor laugh, but doesn't succeed. In the end, neither of them are much to laugh.

42. Who needs more reassurance?

Nikolai, definitely. Fyodor's sure of himself and his plans, and so is Nikolai to an extent, but Nikolai still gets doubts, which is when Fyodor comes in to tell him that everything is going to work out.

43. Who would have to bail the other out of jail?

Well... I don't think either of them would pay for bail, but Nikolai'll be fishing Fyodor out of jail (or general captivity) pretty regularly. (It's just such an easy way to extract information!)

44. What would be their theme song?

Oh boy I have no clue- Maybe ‘The Land of Might-Have-Been’?

45. Who would sing their child back to sleep?

Fyodor, as he softly touches their forehead and watches the blood pour from their slack lips- On second thought, maybe children isn't such a good idea...

46. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Oh, all sorts of things. Fyodor does work, gets kidnapped, messes with Dazai. Nikolai bounces from place to place, spends time with friends, finds work or other such things to do. In the end, they don't actually spend that much time together.

47. A headcanon about them that stabs your feels?

Neither will ever truly achieve fulfilment.

48. A headcanon that mends the previous one?

:')

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psychosistr · 4 years

Text

Talk to Me- Chapter 3

Summary: They’ve reached the restaurant and everything’s going great so far!...So why is Steelbeak so nervous about messing everything up? Maybe Domino can help him loosen up a little.

Notes: This scene was so much fun to write- I love writing date stories far too much x3

-First Chapter-

As far as Steelbeak was concerned, the ride to the restaurant had been a complete success. Flirting with Domino had been easy, natural, and fun- and that stroke of luck with the song on the radio had resulted in a surprisingly romantic moment that he honestly couldn’t have topped even if he’d planned it himself. They’d been seated quickly without having to wait, and had even gotten a great table by one of the windows with a stunning view of the moonlit bay in a corner of the restaurant with no one else around. All things considered, it was a great start to the night.

Which, unfortunately only made him more anxious about doing something to mess it all up.

He kept trying to tell himself that things were different this time- that things between him and Domino were better now- but, in the back of his mind, he kept thinking about how all of his attempts at conversation last time they went out to eat had ultimately messed everything up and left him with nothing but a bill to pay and quiet, lonely car ride home. It was a stupid thing to worry about, and he knew it, but he was so completely out of his element that it left him feeling more than a little unnerved.

It wasn’t the going out part he wasn’t used to, mind you. He’d gone out on plenty of “dates” before and those had gone well enough to earn him several “girlfriends” that were so charmed by him that they’d wait literally MONTHS just for a chance to see him again.

No, it was the idea of going out on an actual date with someone he was actually interested in seeing again that had his nerves frazzled.

Every other date he’d been on before had been the same routine: Dinner and drinks. Some sweet talk that he didn’t really mean. Drive back to his place. Have a little fun. And then he’d send them on their way with the usual “Don’t call me, I’ll call you”. Lather, rinse, repeat- the same thing every time.

With Domino, though, things were different. The other man was too sharp to fall for his usual sweet talk (though flirting was definitely still on the table). Steelbeak also wanted more than just a one night fling- he wanted to go out with him again in the very near future, or maybe even just hang out more outside of work. He wanted-

“-something wrong?” The loon’s voice cut through his thoughts instantly.

“Huh?” Steelbeak blinked and looked up from his half-touched plate of seafood paella, unaware that he’d spaced out. “Sorry, ya say somethin’?”

“……” There was that stare he’d become all too familiar with over the past few months- the look that told him the shorter bird was mentally picking him apart and analyzing him with unsettling accuracy. “Something’s on your mind and it’s stressing you out.” And he’d hit the nail right on the head, as always. “What is it?”

Darn, he really couldn’t hide anything from this guy, could he?

With a frustrated sigh, Steelbeak frowned and ran a hand over his comb. “Is it really that obvious?” A nod from his partner accompanied by his deadpan stare told him that, yes, it WAS that obvious. “You’re gonna think it’s stupid..”

“Probably.” Wow, he didn’t miss a beat with that, did he? “But I still want to hear it.”

Well, he thought, might as well spit it out. Otherwise the darker bird would just keep giving him that look until he did. “Can ya ‘least promise NOT t’ laugh?”

The edges of the other’s beak curled slightly in a smirk as he shrugged. “Maybe.” That was probably the best he was going to get.

Figuring that he wouldn’t be able to get it all out if he was looking into those seemingly all-seeing red eyes, Steelbeak chose instead to keep his gaze on the bay. “…..I..ain’t exactly used t’ datin’ like this.” His eyes followed the rolling motion of a wave as it crashed on the beach before receding. “Don’t get me wrong, I like goin’ out with a cute dame much as the next guy, but I don’t even bother rememberin’ their names half the time. We go out, I tell ‘em what they wanna hear, and it works good enough t’ get ‘em home with me.” He blindly waved his hand in Domino’s general direction. “But, with YOU, I don’t even know how t’ start a freakin’ conversation. If I try talkin’ to ya like the rest, it’d probably be charmin’, but it’s not gonna be real- my brain ain’t exactly wired for honesty, y’know? So I’m tryin’ real hard t’ think of somethin’ t’ talk about ‘sides small talk ‘cause I wanna say somethin’, but I don’t wanna look like an idiot for tryin’ too hard.” He gave a short, self-deprecating laugh and shook his head. “Aaaaaannd I just heard myself out loud: I’m tryin’ too hard t’ NOT try too hard..guess that don’t make a whole lotta sense, huh?”

When he finally turned his attention back to his date, he saw that the other bird had reached across the table with an extremely small, unmarked vial of something and currently had his hand angled over the rooster’s glass of water- clearly preparing to drip whatever was inside of the glass vial into his drink. “……” Realizing he’d been spotted, Domino slowly leaned back into his seat properly and set his hands back down in his lap, maintaining eye contact the whole time as if that would hide what he’d been about to do.

“…Dom..what’s that?” Steelbeak asked his partner incredulously.

“…Nothing…” He was clearly lying through his teeth and trying to maintain his poker face, despite being caught red-handed.

“We both know I ain’t buyin’ that.” Steelbeak looked down at the table obscuring the loon’s hands from his view. “I know you ain’t tryin’ t’ slip me a mickey, so spill it.”

“Fine..” The poker face finally fell away and Domino’s hand came back up to rest on the table with the vial still between his fingers, surprising the rooster with the dejected, guilty frown on his face. “It’s a truth serum.”

Steelbeak’s eyes widened in surprise at the admission. “Why the heck do ya have truth serum on ya??”

The darker bird shrugged a little. “I like to be prepared for anything- it comes in handy for emergency interrogations.” He set the vial on the table between them so that Steelbeak could see it better. “I thought that, if you’re uncomfortable because it’s hard for you to speak honestly with me, then a drop or two might help.”

The tiny glass container sat on the table, looking so small and insignificant, but Steelbeak knew better than to assume things when it came to drugs and chemicals in their line of work. “..That stuff really works..?”

“I’ve found it to be effective more than 98% of the time.” Domino replied. “It’s fast acting, too- most people notice the effects almost instantly.”

“……Eh, what the heck?” Steelbeak grabbed the vial and, instead of putting a few drops into his glass as Domino had been about to, he popped the drip-cap off and brought it directly to his beak to chug half of the colorless liquid in one go. “!!” He immediately regretted his decision- the liquid was oily and tasted like someone had boiled down a bottle of mouthwash into a loose syrup. After grabbing his napkin and coughing into it for a solid minute, as well as chugging his entire glass of water to weaken the nearly medicinal taste still coating his tongue, he set the half-empty vial back down in the middle of the table. “Ugh, this stuff better be worth it..”

Domino picked the vial up and put it away after screwing the cap back on. “You know, two drops would have been more than enough. Don’t blame me if you start spilling F.O.W.L.’s most highly guarded secrets.”

“Figured I’d need all the help I could get.” With the horribly minty taste finally cleared from his pallet, Steelbeak took a moment to think about how he felt. “Y’know..I do feel calmer. Wow, you weren’t kiddin’ ‘bout that stuff- it works REAL fast.”

The darker bird smiled a bit, but there was something sly about that look in his eyes that Steelbeak couldn’t quite place. “Let’s test it out: What would you like to talk about?”

“I wanna know more about YOU.” The words fell from Steelbeak’s mouth with surprising ease. “We don’t talk ‘bout much on the clock, so, I wanna know, what sorta stuff do ya do for fun?”

“Hm, that’s pretty tame, but a good place to start, I suppose.” Domino picked up his fork, idly spinning it between his thumb and index finger as he thought the question over. “Well..I read, mostly. I also enjoy going to the shooting range- it’s a fun way to exercise and keep my skills sharp. During the winter I like to go for walks in the snow or even ice skating, if it’s cold enough. Oh, and sometimes I just like to go driving along the coast at night since it’s so quiet.”

“Sounds like a good time.” Steelbeak smiled a little, a general feeling of satisfaction coming over him. He couldn’t believe how easy that had been! He felt more relaxed now, like he had when they talked in the break room the other day, or after their mission to raid and blow up a S.H.U.S.H. base. “Never woulda pegged ya for a skater, though. Found any good places ‘round here for that?”

“The lake in the park was nice, I went there last time it snowed.” The loon had a soft smile on his face as he glanced out the window, clearly remembering the day fondly. “It was in the middle of the night, so there was no one else crowding the ice or crashing into me.”

Ah, there it was- that rare but genuine and gentle smile that made Steelbeak’s heart melt a little. “Maybe I’ll tag along next time. Haven’t gone skatin’ in ages.”

Red eyes looked back up at him, that smile growing a little more. “I’d like that.”

For a moment, they stayed like that, just smiling contently at one another.

Then, Steelbeak noticed, Domino’s shoulders began to shake the way they did when he was trying not to laugh out loud about something. “What’s so funny?”

“Well, it’s just..” Domino’s smile was turning into a grin as he continued resisting the ever-growing urge to laugh. “You know that truth serum you drank?”

“Yeah, what’s in that junk, anyway?” Steelbeak asked, his curiosity piqued now. “I mean, I’m glad it worked, but it tasted like melted toothpaste.”

Domino’s body was practically trembling, as was his voice, but he managed to get out a simple reply. “It’s peppermint oil.”

“…What?” Steelbeak blinked, unsure if he’d heard the other bird properly.

“You just drank a bottle of peppermint oil.” And the last of the loon’s resolve crumbled, allowing him to openly laugh at the baffled rooster.

“What?!” Steelbeak sputtered for a moment. He’d seriously just chugged freaking PEPPERMINT OIL?! After a few seconds of his partner laughing at him, the rooster finally groaned and let his head fall forward to hit a clear spot on the table. “Can’t believe I fell for that…why the heck would ya even HAVE that..?” Somehow it seemed more believable that the other bird would carry truth serum on him then peppermint oil.

Wiping a few laughter-induced tears from the corners of his eyes, Domino’s smile didn’t go down one bit. “Like I said, I like to be prepared for anything. Peppermint is very versatile- it can relieve nausea, help with indigestion, or just be used to freshen breath after a less than fragrant meal. I’ve also used it as a fire accelerant before.” He took notice of the way the lighter bird's shoulders were starting to tremble and his grin lessened slightly. “Hey, are you ok-?”

Before he could finish his question, Steelbeak sat up with a huge grin of his own spread across his face and started belting out his distinctively nasal laugh. “Friggin’ peppermint oil! Oh, that was good!” He had to wipe away tears of his own so he could look his partner in the eyes again. “This is why I like ya, Deedee: You keep me guessin’. I never know what t’ expect with ya. You’re exciting.”

Domino’s own smile returned. “You’re certainly not having any trouble being honest now, are you?”

Steelbeak shrugged, the huge grin still practically splitting his face. “Yeah, but it’s gonna be easier on my ego if I just keep pretendin’ it’s ‘cause of a truth serum. So, let’s keep talkin’ before I lose my nerve again- sound good?” He raised his almost empty glass towards his partner expectantly.

Domino picked up his own half-full glass and tapped it to the other’s. “That sounds good to me. Let’s talk.”

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes: Just to clear up any possible confusion: Domino WAS trying to get caught spiking Steelbeak’s drink so he could bluff and get him to try it willingly- the guy knew what he was doing x3 Also, by “peppermint oil”, I’m referring to edible peppermint extract that’s used in cooking- he didn’t make Steelbeak drink an essential oil because that is dangerous xP

#darkwing duck #dwd #steelbeak #Dominic Domino #steeldomino #100 follower giveaway!#talk to me

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kiwi-kitties · 5 years

Text

Written Out Scenes for Virtues Values and Sins: Greed and Pride’s Discussion on being new to The Seven Deadly Sins.

Before reading, I’d like to give a quick explanation of what this is: I’ve found that since I can’t exactly draw what I want for storyboards and such, I could simply just word it out in the form of writing! This writing here is a scene I’ve been wanting to work out for quite a while, so things might be rocky and Not Very Professional, but it’s something nonetheless! Criticism and reblogs are highly appreciated!!! Thank you for taking your time with my little ramble. 💙

The 7th Realm of Hell isn’t exactly what one would think. Many assume that the 7th Realm is merely an inescapable pit of fire with demons that constantly remind you of your past transgressions that just so happened to get you here. Lots of others think that it’s a torture chamber that keeps sinners right on the brink of the sweet release of death.

Many wouldn’t assume that the 7th Realm is really just the headquarters for some of the largest known businesses in Hell, which are all ran by one head honcho: Greed. Any corporate entity that has Hell’s currency flowing through it regardless of the realm it originates in has the same symbol printed on whatever that business is selling, be that something as simple as a box of cereal to a fine bottle of rum to wash away the fact that one is damned here until they’re ultimately wiped from existence because they’re not of Hell’s use anymore...or to make more shattered souls for currency. Whichever comes first.

Yes, this entire monopoly of a business is all ran by a singular demon who many dub to be The Deadliest Sin: Greed. He’s a short fellow, standing at only five feet tall minus horns (with them, he’d stand at about 5′5″), making him the shortest sin of the bunch. His salt and pepper beard/mustache combo tends to set him apart in a crowd along with the small, black top hat and monocle that he often wears as well. From an attire stand point, he wears a nice black and red business suit that hugs his body ever so slightly. This is also accompanied by a pair of black formal shoes as well. (Certainly the sharp dresser, hm?)

His office is nothing to scoff at either. The walls are lined with books on business and economics that haven’t been touched at all and the few windows that are around the place are covered up with worn out curtains. In the middle of the place sits a large, handmade wooden desk. On the desk sits a few candles to light up the place where the demon spends most of his time. A few neatly stacked papers and an ash tray can be spotted as well. Unfinished work, one would think. An old wooden chair sits behind the desk and a newer looking wooden stump of a seat sits in front of the desk as well. The second chair being for sinners who somehow have complaints that won’t be listened to at all.

Behind all of those items stands Greed, a glass of an unknown alcohol in one hand and a large cigar in the other. He leans over his chair as a demon that has been recently appointed as the new “Pride” takes a few cautious steps into the office.

“Don’t be so shy now, friend! You’re supposed to be Pride after all, hm? You’d best act like it!” As Pride approaches, Greed moves around his chair to sit down in front of his desk, taking a moment to grab a candle and light his cigar with it. “I suppose you’ve existed here long enough to know who I am?”

Pride nods, a grin spreading across his face. “Yes of course! Greed! You’re known damn near everywhere!” The taller demon takes a moment to brush back his hair nervously, revealing a second pair of eyes above the first pair. “Quite frankly I didn’t expect you to be this nice. I’ve heard the talk of you being the deadliest sin and all that constantly gibberish that demons normally talk about.”

Greed leans back in his seat for a second before leaning down to grab a bottle of rum and two shot glasses from a small storage compartment behind his desk. He sets the glasses down and pops the cork on the rum bottle. “That’s what everyone says about me, you know. I’m used to such names by now, not that they’re something that stains my reputation or anything. If anything, it fortifies it.” There’s a bit of a chuckle as he slides a glass of rum over to Pride. “Think of this rum as my congratulations present for you obtaining the title of Pride.”

Pride reaches out to grab the glass eagerly only to have it ripped away from him at the last second by Greed. A devilish smile crosses the older demon’s face as he takes the shot of rum and then places the empty glass down in front of Pride seconds later. Pride takes the glass, taking a look into it to see that every last drop of rum was taken from him. He frowns and looks at Greed.

“What the hell was that move exactly? I thought this was my congrats present?”

“It is a congratulations present, friend. A congratulations present for the lowest title of the Seven Deadly Sins.” The smile keeps spreading as Pride continues to give Greed a confused expression.

“Uh, no. Satan specifically picked me out for this position. That kind of deserves a little more respect than what you’re giving me right now, friend.” Pride sets the glass back down in front of Greed and folds his arms.

“Oh yes. I remember Satan mentioning that. The whole specific picking thing. You realize that means nothing, yes? Just because Hell’s most hated leader looked you over for a few seconds before making a final decision makes you no better than the average demon here.” Greed stands up from his seat behind the desk. “So! Congratulations! You’re the average man among appointed gods.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two demons before Pride stands up as well. “Alright, shorty. You’re probably just spewing this bull because I have the chance to do great things in this position. Maybe improve the quality of life in Hell or something. I don’t know exactly what yet, but it’s going to be something that’ll blow the damn shoes off of your snobby feet.”

A bubbly laugh rises out of Greed as he watches Pride threaten him. “Is this a threat? I doubt you have that kind of power yet.” He starts to wave a hand at the younger demon, still trying to cover up his laughing fit to seem more formal. “I would suggest leaving before my mood changes, friend. You wouldn’t want to be the next poor sap that mysteriously disappears one day.”

Pride opens his mouth to respond to such a threat, but closes his mouth before words come out. From there, he turns away from Greed and starts to walk out of the office.

“Ah, and may I suggest one more thing, Pride? Don’t try to fight me. You’ll only make a fool of yourself and being a fool gets you eaten alive in the long run.”

#virtues values and sins #vvs #kiwi's scene writings

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garden-ghoul · 5 years

Photo

This week on Overground: Evil City we find out what a union station actually is, hammer out some of the material impacts of the Evil City, name the worst subway line in existence, and, uh, assassinate some labor rights activists. Episode is 53 minutes, sorry, we have cannot shut up disease. Transcript below the cut!

GHOUL: Okay, we are rec-ording.

VERA: Yahaa.

GHOUL: Let’s do our welcome.

VERA: Nyee.

GHOUL: I’m from Boston.

VERA: And I’m from Newark.

BOTH: Welcome…

GHOUL: …to the Overground.

VERA: [at the same time] …to the Evil City. [wheezes]

GHOUL: No, we’ll keep that.

[Theme plays: ‘Bolt Cutter’ by Doomtree]

GHOUL: Aaaall right. So, last time we made one TRULY horrible subway line, [Vera laughing] which is bad, very, very bad. And properly should be two separate subway lines, but isn’t.

VERA: Mhm!

GHOUL: And the trains, you know, are each other. And we added a couple of subway stops too. As is our…

VERA: [with relish] Municipal Intersection.

GHOUL: Ahh! Municipal Intersection.

VERA: Not named for an intersection of streets.

GHOUL: But an intersection of buildings.

VERA: Horrible.

GHOUL: And… as is our custom, we were thinking about, but not actually creating content for, this evil city, you know, out of respect for the listeners. So Vera actually wrote down in their notes some questions that we’re going to consider today.

VERA: I did.

GHOUL: So, what order do you want to do these questions in?

VERA: I can just read all of them out. …That’s stupid.

GHOUL: Pick one that’s cool. Yeah, don’t read all of them out at once. Overwhelm the listeners.

VERA: [softly, sinisterly] Yeess.

GHOUL: Oh, I do think first we should place Union Station, and we should talk about what happened to the union railroad.

VERA: Yeeeeeesssssss. Yes.

GHOUL: We might need another rail line. Would you like to draw it?

VERA: I think it would be fun if it was like [awful creaking noise that indicates Vera is drawing a line, probably northward from downtown]. I don’t know. Maybe just [shorter awful creaking noise that probably indicates the line is shorter]. That’s kind of dumb. I don’t know.

GHOUL: Partially make it stupid, but also think about where it would be useful to have rail lines, and where there’s a lot of high density of stuff.

VERA: Uhh, what were we saying were places that stuff was? We’ve got… downtown… we’ve got… the Silver City over there. [presumably the Palisades]

GHOUL: Here we have refineries and industry.

VERA: And…

GHOUL: Where was the place where all the railroads met up?

VERA: You’d think that freight rail would have a lot of stuff in the industrial sector, and passenger rail might be downtown.

GHOUL: I assume the passenger rail goes along the coast. Obviously there’s also something upriver, but. You know.

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: I mean, upriver I would assume there’s mountains and I would assume there’s mines, because that’s how rivers work. But maybe that’s just me being partially from the mountains.

VERA: Aaah.

GHOUL: Railroad bridges!!

VERA: Huhuhuhuhuu.

GHOUL: This is the city of bridges.

VERA: Yeah, it has so many fucking stupid bridges. I kind of want to notate some of them.

GHOUL: Oh, yeah, sure.

VERA: Obviously we’ve got bridges there and there… [pointing out two of the five bridges already on the map]

GHOUL: And one at 9th Crossing Boulevard.

VERA: There and there…

GHOUL: …3, 4, 5… so we need… at least three more…

VERA: At least four… Yeah, and then I’m not sure all of these are ‘crossings.’

GHOUL: Right, some of them are just bridges. [laughs]

VERA: Like that one?

GHOUL: What, Nusquam Street Bridge?

VERA: Clearly it’s called Nusquam Street Bridge, not, I don’t know, Third Crossing or whatever. So.

GHOUL: Hang on, is this over here [the bridge north of Municipal Intersection] the First Crossing?

VERA: Hmmm.

GHOUL: Or is there one even further downriver that’s really annoying when steamships try to come into harbor?

VERA: Yes. Yes! This is Evil City, and it’s very stupid.

GHOUL: Do you call those trestle bridges, the ones that can rise up? [looks it up and cuts the audio lol] Okay, the thing we’re thinking of is a bascule bridge.

VERA: Sometimes referred to as a drawbridge. Okay.

GHOUL: So I think First Crossing should be a drawbridge. And they have to stop traffic so often because ships are always trying to come into the harbor between 1st and 2nd Crossings. [laughing]

VERA: Ahh, that’s so stupid. I love it.

GHOUL: Also, where… union stations are generally a little ways out of downtown, right?

VERA: Mmmm. [again, but in the intonation of ‘I dunno’] Mmmm. I don’t know because there isn’t one in Newark. There is just Penn Station and Broad Street Station.

GHOUL: Where am I thinking of…? Worcester! I don’t think there’s one in Boston either, but there’s one in Worcester.

VERA: Hm. And it’s a little ways out of downtown?

GHOUL: No, Union Station actually is downtown because it’s where you come into if… it’s like the hub for passenger trains.

VERA: Yeah. That’s kind of what I figured it would be. So, yeah, okay.

GHOUL: You know, South Station Boston might actually be a union station, but there’s two of them so they had to call them North and South Station instead of Union Station. I… probably should look that up.

[looks it up]

GHOUL: A union—! A union station is not a station built by a union railroad company, it’s a union of railroads. Did you know that and you didn’t tell me?

VERA: I didn’t know it, but now that you say it it makes a lot of sense.

GHOUL: Ohhh, my gosh. Okay, in that case, what that means is we have to postulate the existence of a bunch of local railroads from the 1800s or whatever that all unionized at Union Station. Which would basically just be somewhere that three or four different railroads would all want to go. Which would probably be downtown.

VERA: Yeah. I do feel like maybe we should just move Municipal Intersection a ways down one of the lines and have that spot…

GHOUL: Or we could just make more horrible intersections of different lines.

VERA: That’s a much better plan, you’re so right.

GHOUL: I was thinking we could put Union Station just north of Municipal Intersection on the north side of the river.

VERA: Mm.

GHOUL: And then have another line going through there.

VERA: Yeah, yeah, sure.

GHOUL: The problem is there’s nowhere non-stupid for this line to go, so it has to go somewhere stupid.

VERA: [sarcastically] Oh nooo.

GHOUL: I was just thinking of a drawbridge that sometimes has a train on it, and going insane.

VERA: Oh, that’s so stupid.

GHOUL: But I think it goes under the river there. [at 1st Crossing] It’s okay. [laughs]

VERA: You know, that’s extra funny, because that’s like ‘yeah, we bored a tunnel for the rail but cars can’t use it, they still have to go over the stupid drawbridge.

GHOUL: Yeah! Does it intersect with the green line again, or does it… it’s possible that the terminus of the green line is just another stop on this. Soon it’s going to be time to tape another couple pieces of paper on the bottom.

VERA: You know, maybe we should do that now.

GHOUL: Sure.

GHOUL: Hi, we’re back. We taped two more pieces of paper and doubled the size of the map. I… [laughing] I think that we should make the green line from the Palisades go down to a beach.

VERA: You’re right.

GHOUL: ‘Cause that’d be just fucking typical.

VERA: You’re so right. Eugh. [sarcastically soft and sweet voice—henceforth ‘rich person voice’] The fucking Coastal Line.

GHOUL: Eeuugh.

VERA: [continued rich person voice] Isn’t it beautiful?

GHOUL: And in fact it is. What’s the beach called? What’s a good terminus name, because this is going to be Palisades to Something Beach or whatever. Um, it could be named after a town that was down there, and now it’s part of the Evil City but it used to be a town.

VERA: I just keep thinking ‘Bramble.’ See, Bramble Beach is like, mm, that’s a good beach, but it’s not the kind of beach that rich people love to go to.

GHOUL: Although if a town was fucking brambly it could be called Bramble Hill or something.

VERA: Mm. Brambling Hill?

GHOUL: Brambling Hill. [both crack up] That’s too Rich People. Sorry, did rich people found this town actually? They want to live out of town, but close enough that they can drive there in a carriage.

VERA: Right. [rich person voice] ‘And I want a seaside view…’

GHOUL: [likewise rich person voice] ‘Like they have at the Palisaades, darling.’

VERA: [lol] Now imagine… [train driver PA announcement voice] Coastline… Palisades to Brambling Hill.

GHOUL: Is it Brambling Hill or Brambling Hill Beach?

VERA: Brambling Hill.

GHOUL: Maybe the stop north of Brambling Hill is Brambling Hill Beach.

VERA: Oh, that’s bad, I love it. Yes. …Oh, I was also thinking that the orange line could have some stupid branch thing going on.

GHOUL: YEAH stupid branches baybeeee!

VERA: [laughing] Yeah, I know, you’re from Boston.

GHOUL: [pffff] All right, would you like to draw a stupid branch of the orange line?

VERA: Yes.

GHOUL: Well, we can… we should mix our systems here. We should also have one that, downtown it’s the same fucking train and for most of it it’s the same fucking train, but they’re still called two different lines.

VERA: [very softly] Yes. [Ghoul chuckling wickedly] YES. The worst of both worlds.

GHOUL: The worst of both worlds. …Mmm. Vera is drawing a highly stupid kind of hook-shaped nonsense. This subway line thinks it’s the river.

VERA: [hmhm laugh]

GHOUL: And I will be clear, on a map there is no reason for it to look like this. We’re not drawing a map that is to scale. [laughing] Aahh I really like that one of the branches is super long and awful and the other one has three stops on it.

VERA: Mhm! Mhm!

GHOUL: Okay, okay, now we have a plan, what are the lines that are—is there a line that’s almost exactly the same as the long orange line but it’s a different color?

VERA: Mmmyes. [Ghoul laughing] Yeah, goes that way at the end. [don’t know what way this is because we didn’t keep this] Also, is it part of the heretofore-unnamed-and-colored line that’s at Union Station or…

GHOUL: When you say part of… hang on, does it go like this? [outlines the monstrously stupid yellow line loop that crosses both 1st and 2nd Crossings]

[a beat, and then both start laughing like loons]

GHOUL: Oh, that’s bad, baby.

VERA: Oh, that’s so dumb.

GHOUL: It takes a small detour to serve this area up here. [weird yellow shark fin thing in south Evil City]

VERA: Mhm. Oh, I love it.

GHOUL: [laughing while trying to talk] What if they have the same terminus too!!

VERA: Ehh! Yes!

GHOUL: Where’s the other terminus.

VERA: Hmm. Hmmmmm. [‘here?’ intonation] Mm?

GHOUL: [wheezingly] Also a stop on the orange line.

VERA: Is that too much?

GHOUL: Evil City!

[both laughing]

VERA: Ah, I love it.

GHOUL: But it’s the terminus, so if you get this train it’s not going to go on.

VERA: No.

GHOUL: Right.

VERA: No. Also, you can’t transfer for free.

GHOUL: No. Obviously not.

VERA: They’re going in different directions! You have to cross the platform!

GHOUL: Fuck. That’s true. And you think it’s like, oh, X Station to Y Station, yeah, there’s track between those stations. Nooooo. You have to go around the loooong wayyy. [laughing]

VERA: Uh-huhhhh.

GHOUL: All right, so now we have the yellow line, which goes south and is mostly the same as the southern 2/3 of the orange line.

VERA: However, Worse.

GHOUL: Mhmmm [chef’s kiss].

VERA: Oh, this is great. Folks, you love to see it.

GHOUL: We love to draw it.

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: Um, I want to name the termini of the yellow line.

VERA: [heheheehee] Yeahhh. Yeah. Yeah. Same.

GHOUL: Also, I think at this stop [probably the western end of the orange line from before we drew the extension] you can transfer to a commuter rail, but you know, it’s a different… oh, my gosh, have you seen… there’s this really stupid part of the Red Line in Boston.

VERA: Oh, I have not.

GHOUL: [laughing] I need to show it to you. [typing as ghoul looks up a map] Okay, you see down here, so Ashmont is actually the terminus of this line. You say, ‘going to Ashmont/Braintree.’ Right.

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: But! There is more Red Line after that that goes to Mattapan! [almost incoherent with laughter] You just have to transfer!

VERA: Oh, that’s so dumb.

GHOUL: Also, see, between Park Street and Downtown Crossing you can just walk there. So it’s a different station but you can walk to it. Ashmont is just two stations and you have to walk between them and the trains don’t go there! [nearly weeping with laughter] That’s some Evil City bullshit right there, Boston.

[editor’s note: having looked this up since then, I THINK you can just take the lift up one level to catch the Mattapan Trolley, like a normal transfer between lines. But it’s still pretty funny. The Mattapan Trolley is a tiny little one-car orange trolley and it’s the cutest thing.]

VERA: Mmm. Oh, that’s delightful. That’s delightful, thank you. Thank you for showing me things about Boston that are dumb. I love to see them. I told you about things in New York that were dumb last session, so.

GHOUL: Yes. So that’s what I’m proposing we do with one of the lines on here. I think either the red line or the stupid little nub of the orange line.

VERA: Mmm. Mm. They both have extreme merits. I feel like the red line is already just soo stupid. Like it kind of stands on its own.

GHOUL: [laughing] All right. We’ll do the orange line, then. But it’s also quite short after that.

VERA: Oh, yeah. Yeah.

GHOUL: So it’s like,

VERA: Still extremely useless. …uh, so.

GHOUL: We really need to name some more termini, my friend.

VERA: Yes, we have got to. We’re just drawing lines willy-nilly like ‘Oh! We never have to do anything that’s not this!’

GHOUL: Yellow/orange terminus. What’s down here?

VERA: Mmm. I feel like down there is a city that’s really kind of a city in its own right but it is…

GHOUL: It’s still very much part of the Evil City Metro Area.

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: Because there’s a subway that goes right downtown to there.

VERA: Right. It does have its own downtown, but…

GHOUL: But we scoff at it like we scoff at Worcester.

VERA: [laughs] You scoff at Worcester, I don’t know enough about Worcester to scoff at it.

GHOUL: One day you’ll scoff.

[both laughing]

GHOUL: Right, and I think it’s a former industrial city that was just founded to have a place to put the foundries or whatever. But now… if it weren’t part of the Evil City Metro commuter radius… You know how they’re trying to rebrand Durham as hip and happening?

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: So they’re trying to rebrand themselves as hip and happening, but everyone’s just like ‘Oh, that’s in Evil City, right? That’s like, a neighhborhood in Evil City.’ ‘Nooo! We’re our own city!’

GHOUL: Um, and… what is that city called.

VERA: Hmm. Okay. So, it was founded for industrial reasons.

GHOUL: Yeah.

VERA: Horrible, horrible, horrible.

GHOUL: What are some suburbs of Newark called? [Vera hesitates] If you don’t know any suburbs—if you like Newark so much, name 5 of their suburbs.

VERA: Well, Belleville and Bloomfield…

GHOUL: What the fuck, stop naming things pretty names!

VERA: Nutley, Montclair… Maplewood… Orange, South Orange, um, West Orange, [audibly smiling] East Orange, no North Orange.

GHOUL: [whispered] Stupid.

VERA: Yeah! I don’t know, the thing is that I do feel like even cities that are just founded to be horrible garbage dumps … [ghoul laughing] Like, they don’t name them Horrible Garbage Dump #1, Horrible Garbage Dump #2.

GHOUL: Well, maybe they do in the Evil City! [both laughing] No, we should strive for realism.

VERA: Realism in all things… except… what our subway maps look like.

GHOUL: It’s… it’s called… fucking Blossomtown or some shit. But it’s also based around an iron foundry.

VERA: Something less dumb.

GHOUL: Oh my gosh, the people from this town really hate that Evil City used to have the nickname Silver City, because it actually came from the really, really nice steel products that this iron foundry put out. [Vera laughing delightedly] And they’re like ‘No, Evil City didn’t make those! We made them! We’re not part of Evil City! They can’t just have their name based on our products!’ But they did.

VERA: They diiid.

GHOUL: I want to call it Birchbrake for some reason.

VERA: Hm, I like it.

GHOUL: All right, we’re calling it Birchbrake.

VERA: I also like that it’s called Birchbrake when I feel like birch is one of the worst possible things to make a firebrake out of? On account of it’s wildly flammable?

GHOUL: Maybe it’s a brake for the birches, so that you surround the birches with a firebrake. But it’s actually not named after that, it’s named after a guy named Birchbrake.

VERA: Ahh. Typical.

GHOUL: All right. So we know that Birchbrake is famous for—I mean, it’s famous for being a suburb of the Evil City—but it’s famous for its iron foundry and its really cool—I think they actually do steel jewelry and it got really popular at some point.

VERA: Mmm, I like that, I like that. Uh, want to name some other stupid bullshit.

GHOUL: Yeah! Yeah, baby!

VERA: How about the other yellow line terminus, which is also just…

GHOUL: A normal stop on the yellow line.

VERA: And a normal stop on the orange line.

GHOUL: Okay, so what’s there?

VERA: So far we’ve got some real industrial areas up north by the river and down south by Birchbrake.

GHOUL: I imagine that between those two things there is or used to be a lot of woods.

VERA: Yeah. Right, it’s probably pretty… well, I don’t know, it’s in the city really, still. The thing is that I’m still thinking a bit… I still have the subway/commuter rail distinction very… in my head, which is probably not true?

GHOUL: Right, in fact large parts of the Green Line in Boston are aboveground. Most of the Green Line is aboveground.

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: So it really is more of a commuter rail, but here’s the key thing. It doesn’t cost as much as the commuter rail.

VERA: Ha-ha! Yeees! I definitely have that distinction a lot clearer in my head, ‘cause when you transfer from the commuter rail into New York City to the New York City subway it’s like, these are two very different experiences.

GHOUL: Right, right, I do… the thing that I like about the Newark Metro Area’s public transportation and rail system is that it’s still a patchwork of several different systems.

VERA: Yeah, it really is.

GHOUL: Right, you’ve got PATH, you’ve got the actual metro, you’ve got Long Island Rail Road, there’s a bunch of shit.

VERA: You’ve got NJ Transit Rail, which is the one I would actually take into the city if I wasn’t taking PATH.

GHOUL: Yeah, that’s like four fucking railroads. Do they all appear on the same map?

VERA: No.

GHOUL: Because they’re run by different companies.

VERA: Right, also they operate on extremely different scales.

GHOUL: Hm. But would you, on a map of the New York City Metro, just mark stations where you can transfer to any of the three or four other railroads?

VERA: Yeah. Yeah, you definitely would be like ‘Yeah these are some PATH transfer stops…’ Grand Central you can take the LIRR… Penn Station I think could take the LIRR or NJ Transit.

GHOUL: I like how it sounds like ‘Lear.’ The point is that we were trying to figure out what is between Birchbrake and the Evil City proper. And we were saying it used to be all forest but now it’s probably towns. I think it’s good if there’s just small stands of trees still and they just have them? But there’s sort of a weird town soup also.

VERA: Yeah!

GHOUL: There should be a place where there’s still a patch of forest and it’s really dense and tangly and impossible to walk through and just no-one’s bothered to cut it down because it’s in a weird place between town boundaries and nobody actually wants to claim it because it’s going to be a whole bunch of work to actually develop that… So it’s just not part of town and it’s a weird little patch of forest that’s not part of a town.

VERA: Mhm. Although also I am kind of finding it difficult to conceptualize that this whole area has not been clearcut several times in the past hundred years.

GHOUL: But the thing is, it’s like three acres though.

VERA: Yeah—maybe it’s also kind of down a ravine or something?

GHOUL: Yeah, yeah, it’s three acres, it’s in a ravine, no-one wants to try to develop that. Someone—they tried to cut it for fuel a while back but people kept getting lost in there. [Vera laughing] Small but incredibly dense.

VERA: [happily] Mm. A little forest that eats people!

GHOUL: [likewise happily and sweetly] A little forest that eats people!

VERA: In the middle of a big old city that eats people.

GHOUL: It’s perfect.

VERA: I love it now.

GHOUL: People found towns 1) as a place to live, or 2) as a place to make stuff.

VERA: You know, maybe it was agricultural.

GHOUL: [smiling] Agriculture! Aw! Right, and they did clearcut a whole bunch of forest and it was fucked up.

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: And the forest got really angry at them.

VERA: Mhm. [reading end of storybook to 4-year-olds voice] And now there’s just one little bit of forest!

GHOUL: That really hates them~~!

VERA: And it will eat you if you go in there.

GHOUL: Right, it condensed all the anger of an entire forest that got clearcut into one extremely tiny three-acre plot in a ravine.

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: There’s a huge chain link fence around that forest with barbed wire on top, because everyone who fucking goes in there vanishes!

VERA: [pfft!] Aaah.

GHOUL: [laughing] And they’re just not dealing with it! …Um, okay, so, agricultural town. What if we invent a stupid name and then tweak it until it’s less stupid?

[editor’s note: there was a WHOLE diversion here about the town called Crowsfield near Anisport and corvids playing chess, which I have omitted for everyone’s sanity. Just trust me that this next thing does not come from nowhere.]

GHOUL: All right, it’s called Bishop. —Wait, do we want to postulate the existence of Christians? I’m not sure about that.

VERA: Right, yeah.

GHOUL: We name it after a different chess piece… not rook. It could just be called Castle, though. A town that’s called Castle inexplicably is pretty good. They founded it as a small homesteading town, right, and they just named it Castle.

VERA: Kind of as a joke.

GHOUL: Kind of as a joke. But then it stuck.

VERA: Yeahh. And people are like ‘Okay, where’s the fucking castle?’ [through gritted teeth] ‘It was a jo~oke.’

GHOUL: They had to build a castle. But it fucking sucks and it’s a casino.

[both cracking up]

VERA: [lovingly] Oh, of course it sucks and it’s a casino. There we go, thank you.

GHOUL: Yeah! [laughing] Um, I do want it to have some stupid bullshit like, ‘This is Castle, it’s the smallest one, then there’s North Castle, West Castle, South Castle.’

VERA: [adoring sigh] I like this.

GHOUL: Which is the main one? Like, if you say you’re going to Castle, people are like, ‘Oh you mean North Castle?’. Or…

VERA: West…

GHOUL: West Castle.

VERA: Yes.

[pen uncapping noise, scribbling sounds]

VERA: West Castle to Birchbrake…

GHOUL: Yeah, and then we have, Ninth Crossing to Birchbrake. Hang on. Which… direction… is the orange branch a branch of. Is it a—like, can you get there [Valentine Institute] from Birchbrake or can you get there from Ninth Crossing.

VERA: Um…

GHOUL: Or! Is that the parent branch. And you can get both of those places but you can’t get—[laughing]

VERA: Oh… Yeeees.

GHOUL: [while still laughing] Like, if you want to—

VERA: That tiny little three stop line is the parent line.

GHOUL: And if you want to get from Birchbrake to Ninth Crossing, you have to transfer. At this stop that’s just southwest of Linden.

VERA: Delightful.

GHOUL: And obviously, you have to pay another fare.

VERA: Obviously.

GHOUL: Unless you go all the way of the orange line. So, it’s such a short thing that most people just do that usually.

VERA: Yes.

GHOUL: That’s the only station where you don’t have to pay to transfer from the south orange line to the north orange line. [laughing again]

VERA: Ahhh… [ghoul still laughing] Folks… you love to see it.

GHOUL: Alright. I wanna name the terminus and the transfer station. ‘Cause that’s some good bad bullshit.

VERA: Mhm. Mhm.

GHOUL: I think… It’s quite possible that what’s down here [spoilers: Valentine Institute] is actually suburb?

VERA: Yeah. —Oh! There’s got to be some universities somewhere.

GHOUL: Oooo! It would be highly stupid and cute if that were a university. You just like—to transfer from one half of the station to the other, you have to actually walk through some of the tunnels that like, belong to the university? Because the branch was built after the university, and like, they couldn’t—they couldn’t actually get permission to build through the university’s underground space. So they just have people walk through the existing tunnels under the university.

VERA: [sharp inhale] Yes. [ghoul starts laughing] It is a free transfer though.

GHOUL: [still cracking up] It is a free transfer though!

VERA: The only one!

GHOUL: There are some other free transfers.

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: It’s just like, half and half and you never know if it’s going to be free or not? So sometimes if you’re planning an unfamilar route you just have to like, google how many transfers you’re going to have to make, and whether they’ll be free?

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: So that you know how much money to put on your fare card.

VERA: Mhm, mhm. Because of course half the fare machines don’t work.

GHOUL: Of course! I mean, a lot of stations just don’t have fare machines, also.

VERA: Yes.

GHOUL: Or! Here’s the thing: if you want to use the fare machine in a station, you have to go out, use the fare machine, and then come back in, paying a fare. Which is how it is, in fact.

VERA: Yes…

GHOUL: Like, there’s never fare machines in the station past the turnstiles. You have to leave the station to use the fare machine.

VERA: Of course…

GHOUL: A lot of the transfer stations that aren’t free just don’t have fare machines.

VERA: Yeah. [ghoul starts laughing] What a garbage fucking city…

GHOUL: Charlie Off The MTA.

[both cry-laughing fondly]

GHOUL: Okay, what’s the university called.

VERA: Um…

GHOUL: Is it named after a town, or does it have, some kind of like, stupid, like you know how some universities are named after like, allegories or some shit?

VERA: Mm.

GHOUL: Like, The University of the Incarnate Word. Right?

VERA: Christ.

GHOUL: That’s in San Antonio.

VERA: Mmm, normal.

GHOUL: [laughing] I know, right? Like, what does that fucking mean? It sounds cool as shit, but I love a university with a dumb allegory name.

VERA: Right. Um. I mean, that’s definitely a Christian university.

GHOUL: Right. But like, you could—or like, from Night Vale, the University of What It Is?

VERA: Good.

GHOUL: It doesn’t have to be an allegory, it could just be named after a town.

VERA: Right, see, you know the college I went to was called the New Jersey Institute of Technology, which is—

GHOUL: That’s normal.

VERA: Just the normalest possible name.

GHOUL: Right. But we haven’t named the Evil City, or the ?state? it’s ?in?. So, we can’t really do that, we’d have to name it after a town.

VERA: Right, and we don’t want to do that. Um… Hmmm…

GHOUL: It could be named after a person, but then we’d have to make a person.

VERA: I mean, we could come up with some other fucking… stupid-ass old rich families that suck.

GHOUL: [emphatically] Mm!

VERA: See, that’s the one thing we can name.

GHOUL: The Valentines.

VERA: [snorts] Are you perhaps thinking of the Ballantines? From Newark?

GHOUL: Yeah, no that’s why I said that.

VERA: Oh okay.

GHOUL: I was trying to disguise it!

VERA: Ah! Valentine University… Oh, we were also tossing around other…

GHOUL: Valentine Institute of Science and Technology… VIST… Wait, what if it’s the Valentine Institute of Science Technology and Arts and everyone calls it VISTA.

VERA: Well, okay! There we go.

GHOUL: Is the stop. Called VISTA. Or is it called Valentine Institute of Science Technology and Arts. Or is it just called Valentine.

VERA: Or is it called Valentine Institute.

GHOUL: Valentine Institute.

VERA: Imagine you’re looking at a subway map. Which looks weird and eviller: VISTA, all caps, or Valentine Institute.

GHOUL: I think, it’s not called VISTA because that’s what people call it in colloquial speech.

VERA: Mmhm.

GHOUL: So if someone was like, ‘Oh, yeah, you just have to take the train down to VISTA and transfer to the nub line or whatever,’ and you’re like, ‘There’s not a stop called that…?’

VERA: Right, and you try to ask someone else on the train and they’re like, ‘Just get off at VISTA.’

GHOUL: And you’re just like ‘what???’ You would think that people would call this stop Valentine, but they don’t.

VERA: No, they call it VISTA.

GHOUL: It’s not like they’re looking at the subway map,

VERA: No.

GHOUL: and nicknaming the subway stops from that.

VERA: No.

GHOUL: Alright, wonderful. So we have Ninth Crossing to Valentine Institute, and Valentine Institute to Birchbrake. [Vera laughs a bit] That’s some good shit.

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: What’s the nub terminus?

VERA: Hm. Let’s see. It’s in the bend of the river, or the, not the bend, the,

GHOUL: Yeah.

VERA: the bit.

GHOUL: We could definitely have a stop called Riverbend that’s like, not the terminus but it’s in there.

VERA: Oh, yeah. [snorts] I mean, we could have like seven stops named Riverbend. The river just keeps bending.

GHOUL: [overlapping] Right, and that’s why it’s funny that there’s only one stop named Riverbend, they had to fight for it. [Vera laughs] Or, we put the one stop named Riverbend in a place the river doesn’t bend. I was thinking like, out here. [at the bottom of the orange/yellow lines]

VERA: Oh, good. [ghoul laughing] You know, another thing that’s stupid about the red line? Is that it doesn’t go through Union Station.

GHOUL: Yeah, that is stupid.

VERA: Mmhm.

GHOUL: I mean, to be fair, Municipal Intersection is also a very major transfer station. But, I think this maybe implies that the red line, was like, not owned by one of the railroad companies that, you know, made the union.

VERA: Mm.

GHOUL: It was owned by a separate railroad company that refused to join the union. Or, I don’t fucking know how the metro works.

VERA: [giggle cackle thing]

GHOUL: Whatever.

VERA: Yeah, I’ve definitely read about the formation of the MTA from however many companies used to own different parts of the subway in New York City, but—

GHOUL: Okay, so, it did not start off as, the subway was a government owned thing.

VERA: No.

GHOUL: Okay, great, perfect. So the red line was just owned by a company that refused to join the union, and may in fact still be a different company? And they have a slightly different fare?

VERA: I mean, slightly different fare is one thing, the same fare but a different fare card is another thing.

GHOUL: [gleeful] Yessssss! You do have to have two different fare cards if you want to transfer onto the red line.

VERA: [blissfully] Ah, that’s so stupid.

GHOUL: Also, this means we can reasonably put more stupid branches on the red line, because like, it’s a whole subway system.

VERA: Mmhm, mmhm! Oh good. Well, we need to do that. Obviously, we’re going to do that.

GHOUL: Right, and like, at any point when you transfer from the red line to another line, you cannot transfer for free, because, you—they’re—you pay the fares with different cards! [wheezes quietly]

VERA: Right!

GHOUL: Often they’re not, like, on the map they’ll be the same station, but you do actually have to walk from, like there’s this stupid little corridor.

VERA: Mmhm,

GHOUL: Where you have to walk from one station to another.

VERA: Mmhm. Yeah, there’s this stupid little corridor and it goes kind of halfway through a building…

GHOUL: Halfway through a building?

VERA: There’s this one, um, stop I’m thinking about in New York City where, I think—it was the way you got from the 6 to the E?

GHOUL: Sure.

VERA: Um, and I don’t remember exactly what was going on there, but I do remember, getting off the 6, and, having to go over to one side of the platform, not out of the gates, but instead, down an escalator,

GHOUL: Okay,

VERA: Like, through, like this ground floor bit of, or maybe, maybe, even deeper, I don’t…

GHOUL: So, you went down an escalator to the ground floor, is this an elevated train?

VERA: No, not at ground floor, I guess, then—

GHOUL: The basement.

VERA: To the basement of a building, [ghoul laughing] over a bit, up some stairs?

GHOUL: In the building.

VERA: In the building. [ghoul giggles delightedly] And I think at one point you could see out the ground floor windows, is what I was thinking of. [ghoul is still laughing but it’s so breathless it’s almost inaudible] Um, I think there was also an elevator somewhere you could take—

GHOUL: This is SO stupid, I love it!!!

VERA: Oh yeah, no, no no no, and don’t worry—and then, when you’d gone up the stairs, then, you walk over a little more, and go down an Even larger, really REALLY long dumb escalator.

GHOUL: Good. Good.

VERA: And that was how you got to the E.

GHOUL: [as if about to cry] Ah! Yes, wonderful, effervescent!

VERA: Mmhm!

GHOUL: [laughs] I feel like we do need to have another branch of the red line, like maybe it intersects with the orange line, somewhere in the Valentine region?

VERA: Yeah, I think it’s good if it intersects specifically with the stupid nub line.

GHOUL: Yes. Wonderful. Um, are we—

VERA: Because it’s just like, doubly useless.

GHOUL: Righ— [wheezes] You can transfer in two places, you can transfer at one of three stops downtown, OR you can transfer at this stupid nubbin, where you’d have to… [starts laughing]

VERA: Pay another fucking fare to get back on the regular orange lines. Wouldn’t you?

GHOUL: No, the Valentine Institute is a free transfer.

VERA: Okay, okay, I just—

GHOUL: It’s also called VISTA.

VERA: Right

GHOUL: It’s obvious that I’m a tourist here.

VERA: Right, okay, so the VISTA stop, like, even that stupid thing, over to the nub end, is also a free transfer, but it’s like, a dumb one?

GHOUL: It’s—so, the 6 to the E, is that a free transfer?

VERA: Yes.

GHOUL: Okay. I think, if a transfer is dumb enough, it should also be free. They pay in inconvenience.

VERA: [guffaws] Right, Eskew has rules.

GHOUL: [high pitched giggle] So what I was wondering, was, when you transfer from the red line to the orange nub, is that, we’re extending from the terminus? Or are we extending from this stupid elbow here?

VERA: Right, I was thinking the same thing, and I was thinking, ‘stupid elbow, right?’

GHOUL: Where does it go after that? Is that the terminus, like, you can transfer there and that’s all that’s for?

VERA: I kind of like if it also goes, like, kind of almost to the yellow stupid bend here? [the shark fin thing]

GHOUL: Uh-huh.

VERA: But, doesn’t, like that’s not a transfer you can make.

GHOUL: Right, you can walk—

VERA: I mean, you can walk over—

BOTH: a couple blocks,

VERA: But,

GHOUL: It’s not a ‘transfer.’ I mean, it’s actually easier than the transfer to the orange line, though.

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: Because you don’t have to go through a fucking basement.

[both laugh]

VERA: Oh, is the transfer from—over by the Institute? I think we should save that for a place that actually Could have a stupid free transfer through a stupid complicated bullshit, because the red line to the orange line is never going to be free.

GHOUL: That’s true. It’s just a transfer. But it is in the middle of nowhere, so.

VERA: Right, it could definitely be through, the, like, maximum amount of dumb, you have to pay AND it’s stupid. Like, you know.

GHOUL: I mean, I think it’s—I like the idea that the red line, because it’s run by a separate private company, trying to discourage anyone from actually transfering off of it? Which is, a complete misunderstanding of how and why people use the subway system.

VERA: Right.

GHOUL: But they do do that.

VERA: Oh, I love that. Oh man, we should think more about, like, we should look at this and think about layers.

GHOUL: Yes yes yes. Brambling Hill Beach is also only in the Silver City, right?

VERA: Oh yeah, Silver City.

GHOUL: Maybe you could transfer there from business. Suit City.

VERA: You know actually, maybe you can’t, but you can from Brambling Hill. I’m not sure we’re thinking of the same thing as a transfer.

GHOUL: No. What I’m saying is that like, if you live in Suit City or in Silver City, or, if you’re coming from there, or if you’re in there or whatever, you can get off at Brambling Hill Beach. If you’re in the Undercity, that stop just doesn’t happen. I mean I don’t know if you can get on the green line at all if you’re in the Undercity. You can get on the green line to transfer from Union Station to Municipal Intersection and that’s IT. [laughing] It’s like a pointless two-stop subway line.

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: But it’s—it’s just basically there if, um, if the orange line isn’t coming.

VERA: It’d be just typical of the green line to have like, pretty good service times.

GHOUL: Like a lot of the subways stop service at like, eleven?

VERA: Mmhm.

GHOUL: But the green line actually runs until 1am.

VERA: [sighs] No…

GHOUL: But here’s the catch: [increasingly laughing] you can only go from Union Station to Municipal Intersection.

VERA: Unless you’re loaded, in which case you could go to a couple other, still pretty useless places for rich people.

GHOUL: [still laughing] At 1 AM.

VERA: At 1 AM. Oh, this is great.

GHOUL: [laughing so hard they start coughing]

VERA: Who stops service at 11 PM??? Okay,

GHOUL: Just the red line. [laughing]

VERA: Oh… Okay.

GHOUL: Just the red line stops service at 11 PM.

VERA: Okay. That’s good.

GHOUL: [laughing] They’re like, ‘We’re an independent company, and we can go to bed when we want.’

VERA: You’re not my real mom, commuters who have to get to work. At night?

GHOUL: At 11 PM? Does the night shift start at 11 or 12? No, it starts at like 10, right?

VERA: People have to get home from their really late shifts.

GHOUL: Well, they can’t fucking take the red line, so good luck.

VERA: Right. Hope you live somewhere else!

GHOUL: Which sucks because the area the red line serves is specifically the area mostly full of people who are gonna have late shifts.

VERA: Yeah… Christ!

GHOUL: Like, people who live in Brambling Hill don’t fucking need that.

VERA: They don’t!

GHOUL: There’s, there’s like—there’s like One train that runs at midnight. The midnight train, right? And if you don’t catch it, you just don’t get to go home tonight.

VERA: The midnight train…

GHOUL: So you can—the midnight train. And if you, like, I think there should be a local phrase like, ‘missed the midnight train.’ [Vera squawks in delight] Which is like, a narrow window of opportunity, that was left by people who hate you?

VERA: MM!

GHOUL: Right? And so, you can always find like, like half a dozen people sleeping in a lot of red line stations at night, [Vera gasps] because they can’t get home ‘cause they missed the midnight train.

VERA: Yeah… yeah…

GHOUL: Also, I want to name the red line. Like,

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: I assume that like Long Island Railroad, it’s named after one of the termini? ‘Cause that’s the town that it was sort of half based in?

VERA: Right, which is fun, ‘cause we have not named any of the termini of the red line yet.

GHOUL: Ah, I think it should be That terminus. [spoilers: it’s called Trestle]

VERA: Mmhm. That makes sense.

GHOUL: And it should just be like a town, and it should be called the Town Name Railroad. But, we should name the town so that it makes a good acronym.

VERA: So, we’ve got Rail Road…

GHOUL: Could call it SORR… Like, fuckin sore from sleeping on the floor all night.

VERA: TARR,

GHOUL: [laughing] TARR… Yeah, missed the midnight train, so I have to sleep on the TARR. That’s pretty good.

VERA: That’s pretty good…

GHOUL: All right. TARR then.

VERA: Okay. So T-A… Trench and Ale Rail Road.

GHOUL: Trestle. Town called Trestle.

VERA: That’s…

GHOUL: The Trestle Allendale Rail Road.

VERA: [quietly] Is Allendale a real town?

GHOUL: There’s definitely a town somewhere called Allendale.

VERA: Yes, there’s at least one in Pennyslvania.

GHOUL: There you go. See it’s not, this city’s not in New Jersey.

[both laugh]

GHOUL: The city of Trestle is called that because of their fucking famous trestle bridges or some shit, and it’s all because there’s a railroad there. [laughs] It’s kind of like a chicken and egg thing. Like did they build the railroad that the town was named after first, or did they build the town that the railroad was named after first. [laughs] It’s one of those mysteries. Are we doing Allendale, or what?

VERA: Um… Well I’m just gonna name this place Trestle.

GHOUL: Yeah, sure. It’s named after this bridge, right here.

VERA: Right here? [pointing at the bridge just south of the western TARR crossing] Which is extra funny because the red line doesn’t—the TARR does Not go—

GHOUL: I mean, I was actually pointing at the crossing, where the TARR crosses the river.

VERA: Oh.

GHOUL: But, we just went ahead and did that, so whatever.

VERA: I mean, there could just be a bunch.

GHOUL: What if there’s an intersection over the river? Like, they built two bridges over the river at right angles to each other?

VERA: Well that would be wildly dumb. I like it.

GHOUL: Mm, it can’t be the Trestle crossing, though. It has to be like, here. [black plus sign north of Burning River] It only counts as one crossing, though. That’s just the double crossing.

[pen uncapping noise]

VERA: Yeah. Ummm…

GHOUL: Sixth Crossing, or just the Double Crossing.

VERA: [guffaws]

GHOUL: What does the A stand for, Vera?

VERA: Ah, fuck—umm,

GHOUL: Is it Allendale or not?

VERA: Uh, you also said Ainsdale [mumbles] Which I liked.

GHOUL: I said Ainsdale.

VERA: I kinda like Ainsdale.

GHOUL: Okay. [mumbles] We’ll use Ainsdale. [aloud] The Trestle-Ainsdale Railroad. Or TARR. And none of the component lines of TARR are named, or have distinct names. It’s just named after the terminus and one of them is, you know, just like, oh yeah, the loop, right.

VERA: G-d, what a garbage fucking—

GHOUL: There’s TARR loop, there’s TARR to Trestle—

VERA: And there’s TARR—presumably a couple other stupid bits, that aren’t on the maps, yet, but are not ‘written’ down.

GHOUL: I think we might be done with this episode.

VERA: Yeah…

GHOUL: I’m really hungry, I only had two breakfasts.

VERA: Right, you left your other breakfast on the—

GHOUL: I left my other breakfast.

VERA: Mm. I did wanna talk about what the city is mourning and why it is alone in its grief…

GHOUL: Ffffuck! Euch. What is the ci—okay. What is the city mourning? I think this actually ties into the question about immigration and geopolitics, though.

VERA: Mhm, mhm. Right, I know you’ve been thinking about a war, because, you like to have it.

GHOUL: I like, well, partially, because I really want to reuse the song ‘Oh, Nightingale,’ which has the really good verse about the war.

VERA: Yes. Which is super—yeah. I do also like for the city to be mourning internal fuckery? Because, for one thing, although it is apparently not true that a Union Station is built by a Railroad Union of railroad workers—

GHOUL: There is some union busting shit in there.

VERA: Yeah. There is nevertheless Definitely some union busting shit in the Evil City’s history.

GHOUL: Right, there was, there was definitely like a steelworker’s union that got brutally crushed.

VERA: Yeugh.

GHOUL: I assume like a dockworker’s union?

VERA: Yeah…

GHOUL: They might still have that, just in like a pathetic weak reduced form.

VERA: Yeah…

GHOUL: Where it’s like a union in name only, and they don’t actually exercise any power because they know the city will squash them flat if they try?

VERA: Right.

GHOUL: I think, like the city could be mourning its previous economic prosperity and cultural prosperity, that was like, it was made possible by the people by, you know, community organizations like unions, like neighborhood associations, that the lords of the city are now suppressing. And they’re like, [does stupid voice] ‘I don’t know why our city sucks now’. It’s like, bro. It’s ‘cause you killed it.

VERA: Yeah! Yes! That’s what—that’s the shit I like.

GHOUL: Yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah—

VERA: —yeah—

GHOUL: —yeah. I assume because this is partially based on New England that there have been some textile mills. You know, how it is,

VERA: Yeah, I know how it is with you.

GHOUL: The… Pentagon… Shirtwaist Factory.

VERA: [wheezes out a laugh] That’s too derivative.

GHOUL: You’re right.

VERA: The Trapezoid Pantwaist Factory [busts out laughing as soon as they get through saying it]

GHOUL: Got it! Honestly, if we have a stop called ‘Trapezoid’ that kinda rules.

VERA: [one big ol’ shriek of laughter]

GHOUL: But no-one actually remembers why it’s called that, because obviously, the factory burned down. [both laughing]

VERA: Right, the factory burned down and… was, was not successfully used as a labor rights warning story for the next forever.

GHOUL: No. No.

VERA: It just burned down.

GHOUL: It just burned down and tons of people died.

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: And, they covered it up.

VERA: Yup.

GHOUL: It was not actually reported in any major news outlets, that people died there. It was like, popularly known, ‘cause like, where the fuck else did my loved one die.

VERA: Mmhm.

GHOUL: Than at the place where they work, where it is known that they keep the doors locked,

VERA: Where—that just burned down.

GHOUL: I feel like, that was one of the events that kind of started the destruction of the—I don’t know if they had a union. Like maybe they were trying to form one. And then there was this, terrible fire, completely unrelated.

VERA: [inhales loudly] Chhhrist. G-d, fucking typical though.

GHOUL: Yeah. There have been, SO many assassinations of union leaders in Evil City. So many.

VERA: [sighs] Yeah…

GHOUL: So many assassinations. Blackthorn has definitely had people assassinated.

VERA: Oh yes.

GHOUL: Oh my gosh.

VERA: Oh yes.

GHOUL: And now, on the site where the factory used to be, there’s just like, a trapezoid-shaped plaque on the ground? And everyone assumes that the station is named after that.

VERA: Oh my G-d…

GHOUL: You know, that’s like. Misdirection to, help people forget.

VERA: Oh, I thought that like, um—I thought it’d be fun if—before they got assassinated, some of the factory workers’ loved ones, uh, who were trying to—uh, did a plaque, among other things. I don’t know that ‘plaque’ is the first thing I’d go for, if I was—

GHOUL: No, I would start an independent newspaper, or like sell the story to an independent newspaper.

VERA: Right.

GHOUL: But now it’s just like, this plaza that’s sort of like a weird little park, and it’s in between two factories? Or office buildings that used to be factories And it’s like, this is a super weird place for a little park that’s also a plaza.

VERA: Yeah. [ghoul laughs] Mmm!

GHOUL: And it has this, trapezoid shaped thing. Which is, I assume, why we call it the Trapezoid.

VERA: Right. You know, maybe it’s a fucking. Blank, completely sanded down, bronze trapezoidal plaque.

GHOUL: Right! It used to have ‘In memorial of the 87 people who died in the Trapezoid Pantwaist Fire.’

VERA: Right. [sarcastically bright] It doesn’t anymore.

GHOUL: It doesn’t anymore. It was sanded down.

VERA: Pretty quickly!

GHOUL: Very—[audibly covers face] fuck, I’m so sad, no wonder the city’s grieving.

VERA: Right, this sucks!

GHOUL: Two other fun facts about the Trapezoid. One, it is often referred to by locals as ‘the trap.’ [Vera exhales punched-ly] Just, as a nickname, [Vera laughs weakly] no relation. Two: if you go there from the Ghost City, it’s still on fire. [Vera laughs weakly AGAIN] There’s a lot of things that are still on fire in the Ghost City.

VERA: It’s just that kind of city!

GHOUL: It’s just that kind of city. [wheezing] Yikes!!!

[both making noises of astonished yikes-ness]

GHOUL: Yeah, okay!

VERA: Okay!

GHOUL: Good—good talk!

VERA: Good talk! [both laughing grimacingly]

GHOUL: And with that, I think we’ll sign off for this episode, thanks for listening, Lee.

VERA: [laughing] Yeah, thanks for listening, Lee! [suddenly stops being high-pitched] Right, no—

GHOUL: Okay, bye!

VERA: Mmm, bye-bye…

[outro plays, from Bolt Cutter by Doomtree]

#overground #evil city

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