#I drew this to prove a point about something and accidentally ended up turning out really good

[juggalogojackerbox]

Maybe I'm just Sleepy but something seems a bit Twisted here

[Terrible puns aside, Onycraft uses he/him only]

[smilingformoney]

Severus and Persephone attend the Potters' wedding, which proves to be much more difficult than Severus anticipated.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

It was the day of the wedding, and needless to say, Severus was a mess.

Almost every single person Severus didn’t want to see again was going to be there. Potter and his friends, Lily’s family… really, the only person he was going for was Lily.

And Persephone. She was expecting to go with him, having agreed to be his plus one, and so he couldn’t let her down.

He had finally found an outfit that he liked and Lucius called acceptable. It was a relatively simple outfit - a white shirt under a black waistcoat and black tailcoat with straight black trousers and simple black shoes - but the designer was some French wizard Severus had never heard of but who Lucius claimed was a top of the line designer, and anyone who was worth anything would recognise it immediately.

Severus was just happy that it wasn’t extravagant. It fit well to his body, he had to admit, and he almost looked like he wasn’t a rat from the streets of Cokeworth.

He spent far too long trying to decide what to do with his hair. Lucius tried to convince him to style it, but Severus refused point-blank to touch Sleakeazy’s - it was the brainchild of Potter’s father, and the revenue from the invention was the root of Potter’s wealth. If Snivellus showed up to his wedding wearing his father’s invention, Potter would see that as a win.

Instead, Severus tied it back. His hair was thin and had few layers to it, so it was easy to gather it at the back of his head in a half-bun. He felt he looked decently respectable, and hopefully he wouldn’t stand out too much from the wealthier Potter and Evans families.

He knocked on Persephone’s door and waited. It was the first time he’d been to her house, and although he was curious about the inside, he daren’t impose himself. She lived in an enclosed square in the middle of London, only a short walk from Diagon Alley. It was off a busy muggle road, but the square itself was quiet and the moment Severus turned into it, he seemed to pass some kind of invisible barrier that muffled the noise of the main road. It was, he deduced, a magical community enchanted to prevent muggles from accidentally wandering in.

The front door opened and Persephone stepped out. Severus had to stop himself from gasping. She looked stunning in a long black dress with an elegant silver trim around the neckline, which dipped just low enough to show a little cleavage, making him blush, but remaining appropriate. Her hair, which was rarely out of a ponytail, was down, one side tucked behind her shoulder and the ends slightly curled. She even wore make-up, something he’d never seen on her before. Her red lipstick made her lips look temptingly kissable; the only flaw in her entire look was the foundation she wore on her face. Not that it looked bad, but it covered her freckles, which he liked on her.

“Close your mouth, Severus, you’ll catch flies.”

Severus was snapped back to reality when she spoke, and he blushed, realising he’d done nothing but gawp at her.

“Sorry. I just - you look… different. Your hair is usually up.”

“And yours is usually down.” Persephone lifted her hand to gently push a stray hair from his face, and Severus blushed further to feel even the slightest brush of a touch from her. “I like it like this. I can see your cheekbones.”

She frowned slightly, then drew her hand back and rearranged her face into a polite smile.

“Well, Mr Snape - shall we?”

Severus nodded, offered his arm to her, and apparated them away.

They arrived in the alleyway behind Spinner’s End. Severus often used it as an apparition point, knowing it was never used, and it wasn’t too far a walk from the church. The ceremony was to be non-magical, as not all of Lily’s family knew she was a witch, and so arriving there directly by magical means was out of the question. Their story, they agreed, would be that they had come from Severus’ house.

“Is that a magical community you live in?” Severus asked as they made their way away from the river and towards the nicer part of town. “I noticed a magical barrier at the end of the road.”

“Yes, the whole square is Ministry workers,” Persephone replied. She went to lift her skirt as she stepped over a puddle, but Severus waved his wand to vanish it instead, leaving her path clear. “It’s all Ministry-issued housing.”

“They gave you a house? How did you convince them to do that?” Severus asked, only half-joking.

“I told them I’d be homeless otherwise.”

She said it so casually, as if the threat of homelessness was something that happened in everyday life. Growing up on a council estate in the Midlands, for Severus it had been such a thing - he had seen plenty of neighbours lose their houses shortly after losing their jobs. But Persephone didn’t seem to be of the same sort as he - she had a proper accent, as if she’d moved to London from somewhere nice like Winchester or Oxford, although her naturally rough voice countered it to prevent her sounding like she was as posh as the Malfoys.

He didn’t know much about her, really. He had no idea where she was from - maybe she had moved from Oxford. Maybe she was a born Londoner. Maybe, like him, she was from further north and hid her accent.

Persephone glanced at Severus. He was a strange man. Most people - including herself - would be fishing for more information about her brush with homelessness, but the information passed over him as if she’d told him her favourite colour. She knew the area they had apparated to was near his house, although she didn’t pry as to exactly where that was, and it was clearly run-down. They were walking now along a river, but it wasn’t a pleasant walk. The river was brown, surely devoid of aquatic life, and the occasional lump of rubbish floated by. At one point, a shopping trolley appeared to be wedged in the riverbank. Across the river was a factory of some sort, though it seemed to be closed and out of use.

She had been interested to learn from Severus that Cokeworth was where he’d grown up, on the other side of town from Lily Evans, because she herself had grown up only an hour’s drive away. She’d never been, but she knew of the town by reputation, and it wasn’t a good one. A former industrial town, once flocked to by the working class, it was now deprived and forgotten, houses either torn down or abandoned. What on earth Severus was doing living here when he could easily move into a wing of Malfoy Manor was incomprehensible.

Past the boundary of the old factory, the scenery began to change. The river narrowed, veering off to the west, and Persephone followed Severus up a set of stairs to emerge onto a cobbled high street. The spire of the church they were headed to was visible in the distance, and Persephone followed in Severus’ footsteps as he led her through the streets he clearly knew very well.

“Do you know this area well?” Persephone asked.

Severus grunted in reply. Persephone sensed that he didn’t want to talk, so they remained silent as he led her through the cobbled back streets until they emerged across the road from a church.

It wasn’t dissimilar to the church Persephone had grown up diligently attending every Sunday - not out of any faith, but out of obligation. As the Reverend’s daughter, she had no choice but to attend her father’s sermons and sit in still silence as he droned on about God and the Bible. It was there that she had learnt to blend into the background, being present but unnoticed while adults gossiped around her, not realising she was listening and taking mental notes of the latest dramas in the village.

Severus hesitated when they emerged onto the street, eyeing the milling crowds warily.

“Not a setup, then,” Persephone commented.

“No,” Severus replied. His eyes darted around the crowd as if looking for someone in particular. “I don’t see Potter’s friends at all.”

“They’re probably inside with him. I expect they’ll be groomsmen.”

“I suppose.” Severus tilted his head slightly to peer at a couple climbing out of the back of a taxi. The woman was tall and thin with a long neck and an expression that suggested she’d just swallowed a lemon. The man, meanwhile, was short and fat with the ghost of a moustache growing on his lip. He offered a hand to the woman to assist her out of the taxi, and as it drove off, they both straightened themselves, looking around haughtily at the gathering crowd. The woman muttered something to the man, who seemed distinctly unimpressed with what she’d said.

Severus knew them, that much was clear. He took a small step back, as if their presence caused him to want to retreat.

“Who are stringy and dumpy?” Persephone asked.

Severus frowned, then the corner of his mouth twitched as he tried to suppress a smile.

“Petunia Evans,” he replied in a low voice. “Lily’s sister.”

“Not a fan?”

“You could say that. She’s a muggle; she always envied Lily her magic. She was jealous that we were both magic, and she wasn’t. And when Lily and I became closer…” He trailed off, thinking.

“That’s her husband, I assume?”

“He must be. Though who would want to marry a nasty girl like her, I don’t know.”

“Maybe he’s nasty too. They certainly both seem to think they’re better than everyone else.”

Petunia and her dumpy husband were now conversing with another couple, and they both wore expressions that suggested they were talking to a piece of shit on their shoes.

An idea came into Persephone’s mind and she suddenly looped her arm through Severus’. He twitched as if to pull his arm away, but he stopped himself. Instead he looked at her questioningly.

“Let’s pretend we’re dating,” she said conspiratorially.

“I - what?!” Severus spluttered.

“Yeah! Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ve always wanted to try the fake dating bit. It’ll be good practise for you too.”

“Is this a suggestion from a friend or an order from a superior?”

Persephone blinked in surprise.

“We’re friends?”

“Oh - sorry, I -“ Severus glanced away, embarrassed. Of course they weren’t friends - never mind that at some point in the past few weeks, they’d started using each other’s first names. Never mind that her cold shoulder had warmed slightly or that she allowed herself more smiles around him. He was still just a colleague, a trainee, someone she was saddled with…

“Don’t be,” she said. “I just… I wasn’t sure if we were friends or just colleagues.”

“Well, I - I’d hope we were friends by now.”

Persephone smiled. “I’ve never had a friend before.”

“Never?” Severus repeated with a frown. That couldn’t be right. Even he’d had friends.

“Classmates, sure. Kids I was forced to hang out with. But no one I’d consider a friend. I don’t really like people.”

“Nor do I.”

“I like you, though.”

“I… like you, too. Very much.”

Persephone smiled and stood up straighter, not even realising she’d shrunk into herself slightly in her uncertainty. “Good. So we’re friends. And for the next few hours, we’re dating.”

“Right. How long have we been dating?”

“Let’s say a month. That’s about as long as we’ve been working together, and the best lies are based in the truth.” She nodded her head towards the crowd, who were beginning to make their way into the church. “Shall we?”

Severus nodded, and together they made their way towards the church. By silent agreement, they stayed near the back of the crowd, being careful not to draw attention to themselves. They slid into a pew at the very rear corner of the church, giving themselves a good view of the crowd without giving the crowd a good view of them.

“Tell me what you see,” Persephone murmured.

As the guests shuffled around and the church workers got themselves into position, Severus whispered his observations to Persephone. He had a natural talent for it; it was easy to see why he’d been hired after her. He also, she suspected, employed a bit of legilimency; either that, or he was very good at guessing what people were thinking.

He stopped talking suddenly when James entered and made his way to the front of the congregation, ready to take his position for the ceremony. As predicted, his gang were there with him. Sirius Black appeared to be the best man, with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew backing him up as groomsmen.

They were all dressed smartly, although Black stood out like a sore thumb - perhaps because he was tall enough to be head and shoulders above the rest of them, being a good foot taller than Potter, or perhaps because he appeared not to have even brushed his wild hair, giving him the impression of a lion’s mane around his head. Even Potter had tamed his famously messy hair, but Black had decided he was above such petty things as hairbrushes. If he had turned up to church like that in Persephone’s village, he wouldn’t have been kicked out - that would have caused far too much of a ruckus - but he would have experienced a lot of tuts, disappointed head shakes and mutters about “the youth of today.” Although, from what she knew of him, Persephone supposed he was counting on exactly that today.

Pettigrew, meanwhile, seemed to have had trouble finding a suit that fit him, and so he looked rather odd so short and round next to much taller and skinnier men.

Lupin certainly looked the best of them. He almost looked like an ordinary man, with the exception of the scar across his face. Persephone wondered what story he told muggles about the origin of the scar.

A hush came over the crowd as the organ began to play, and those who were still milling about quickly sat down. The air was buzzing with anticipation for Lily’s entrance, and Persephone could feel Severus stiffening beside her. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed. For a moment, he didn’t respond, and then his hand relaxed into hers. His shoulders dropped slightly, and his tightened jaw relaxed.

He glanced at her, looking at her curiously, as if wondering what she’d just done to him. She gave him a small smile, hoping to comfort him, but he just looked sad. Then, the doors at the rear of the church opened, the entire congregation turned their heads back, and Lily Evans stepped through the archway.

When the ceremony was finally over, the crowd gathered outside to throw confetti on the couple as they emerged from the church. Severus and Persephone kept out of the way, both having agreed to stay out of sight until after the ceremony. Neither of them were fans of the union, but they weren’t so bitter as to interfere.

The reception was only a few doors down at the village hall, so while the couple and their attendants and family posed for photos, the rest of the crowd began meandering down the road to the hall.

“Are you alright?” Persephone asked gently. She had taken his hand again, conscious that even out of sight of those they intended to fool, they still had to maintain their facade.

Severus nodded his head, looking pointedly ahead as they made their way down the street. Persephone had intended to ask him to observe some more as they walked, but she decided he deserved a break after watching his first ever friend marry his bully.

“She deserves better,” he said at last once they were sat at a table. The assigned seating had them with some Potters neither of them knew and who hadn’t arrived yet, no doubt still at the church participating in the photo shoot.

“The heart wants what it wants,” Persephone replied. She knew it was useless advice, but it was all she had. She didn’t want to admit that she didn’t really like Lily either, so to her they were perfect for each other. 

“Hmph.” Severus folded his arms and stared off into the distance.

“Sorry, that wasn’t helpful, was it?”

Severus looked at her, eyebrow raised. “Do you think so?” he snapped. Then, his face relaxed into a sad look, and he shook his head. “Sorry. You’ve been good enough to accompany me. It’s not your fault I’m miserable. I knew this would be difficult. I shouldn’t have come - shouldn’t have dragged you here -“

“Hey.” Persephone placed her hand on his arm, and he again twitched at the sudden contact, although he still didn’t pull away. “I encouraged you to come and I asked to come with you. In fact, I didn’t ask, I pretty much told you I was coming. But this really is good practice for you, you know. There’ll come a day you’ll be emotionally compromised on a mission, and you need to be able to look past your emotions and focus on your task. If you can do that now, you can do it when the real thing comes.”

“And what is my task, Agent Payne?”

Persephone gestured at the empty seats around their table. “We’ve got three Potters due to join us. Find out who they are, what they do, and get something useful. Information, perhaps, or just a connection you can use at a later date. Charm them - with your wit, not your wand.”

“I’m not charming.”

“When you’re an Unspeakable, you’re whatever you need to be. If you need to be charming, you be charming. If you need to be a dickhead, you be a dickhead. If you need to suck up to Potters, you suck up to Potters. Who you are - who you have been - he disappears at the door. You’re malleable. You’re an actor. You’re smiles and laughs at one table, then you move onto the next and you adapt. You are no one. You are everyone. There is no self; only the mission.”

Severus looked at her for a long moment, considering. “How do you stop yourself from forgetting who you really are? Does there not come a time when you lose track of which face is real and which is a mask?”

Persephone shrugged. “If you figure that one out, let me know. Do you want a drink?” She nodded to the bar, where glasses of Buck’s Fizz were being prepared.

“Please. Is it too early for whisky?”

“No, but we’ll have to stay sober. I’ll teach you to keep your wits about you while drunk another time. Orange?”

“Very well.”

Persephone made her way to the bar and asked the server to pour two oranges without the champagne.

“You break my heart, Payne!” said a voice Persephone had the misfortune to recognise as Sirius Black. “It’s a wedding, after all, and the parents are paying. Let loose a little, huh? You look like you’re wound tighter than a watch.”

Black leant casually against the bar and flicked his untidy hair back, not noticing Persephone roll her eyes at his terrible attempt at metaphor.

“Saw you at the ceremony, sat with Snape,” Black continued. “Suppose sitting next to Sniv for long enough would make anyone tense. Don’t worry about the seating plan - soon as all the toasts are over, you can leave Sniv behind and dance with me.” He shot her his best charming grin, the same one she’d seen him flash at pretty much every girl in Hogwarts.

“I literally cannot imagine anything worse than dancing with you, Black,” Persephone replied shortly. “I’d sooner dance with a werewolf. How is Lupin these days?”

Black’s eyes widened momentarily, then he quickly rearranged his face into his attempt at a charming smile.

“No werewolves here, love. And I don’t think Remus’d be able to keep up with you, do you?” He looked her up and down. “Nah, I love the guy, but he’s all brain and no brawn. You need a man who can carry you over his shoulder and whisk you away. Bet you’d like that, eh?”

“I can whisk myself away, thank you very much. Want to see me do it?”

She turned on her heel and carried her two glasses back to the table as if nothing had happened.

Severus just grunted when Persephone handed him the drink. He really wished he could have a drop of alcohol in there.

“Get over it, Severus,” Persephone hissed at him as she sat down.

“Excuse me?!”

“I told you to be charming. Sit up and stop slouching. You look like a grumpy teenager who’s been dragged here against his will.”

“I am a grumpy teenager!” Severus replied, although he did as she said. “And I’m certainly here against my will. Do you think I wanted to sit in that church and watch my best friend marry my worst enemy? Do you think I want to sit here and watch you flirt with Black?!”

“Flirt with Black?!” Persephone repeated, flabbergasted. “You clearly didn’t hear a word of what I said to him.”

“No, but I saw enough, saw the way he looked at you -“

“He was flirting with me! It’s not my fault he’s never been able to take a hint. I could snog you in front of him and he’d still find a way to make it about him. Anyway, even if I had been flirting with him, what’s it matter to you? We’re here to make connections, aren’t we? If I have to flirt, I flirt, and you’ll know it when I do. But our story tonight is we’re dating, so I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I started flirting with the best man, would I?”

Severus’ jaw twitched, but he said nothing more. They sat there in silence until the room began to fill up with the Potter and Evans families, having now finished their photos.

“Follow my lead,” Persephone whispered to Severus as their dinner companions for the evening approached.

She was like an entirely different person. Severus dutifully played the role of shy boyfriend as Persephone transformed in front of him from the “ice queen” Lucius had warned him about to a warm, open, and engaging extravert. She laughed at the right times, responded with witty and thoughtful comments, and threw probing questions into her conversations with such charm that it was difficult to discern them from casual conversation.

The Potters they’d been sat with, it turned out, were extraordinarily boring. But that didn’t stop Persephone from throwing herself into the role, if only to show Severus how it was done. Severus almost believed it himself when she feigned interest in the oscillating conversion values of muggle and wizarding currency.

After the dinner came the speeches, and it took all the will Severus could muster to sit there and listen, trying not to let his anger show lest it upset Persephone’s plans, as Black gave his best man speech - somehow making it more about himself than about the groom - and Lily’s father, Timothy Evans, gave his speech. The way they talked about Potter, it was as if he had never done wrong. Black alluded to their joint “mischief” as if it were just that, simply a bit of fun, boys being boys. In retelling some of their exploits, he conveniently missed out the part where the two of them had almost killed him.

Finally, the long-winded speeches ended, and the tables were moved aside (seemingly by hand, although Severus suspected magic made the tables lighter) and the floor was cleared for dancing. Lily and James took to the centre of the room, the lights were dimmed, and romantic music began to play.

Severus didn’t even realise his hands were curled into fists until he saw Persephone reappear at his side, having disappeared when the tables were moved, and handed him a drink. In the dim light, it was hard to tell, but it looked suspiciously like whisky.

He looked at her questioningly.

“You’ve earned it,” she whispered.

He smiled his thanks and took a swig of the much-needed drink. It was a muggle whisky, so it didn’t quite have the kick that firewhisky had, but it would do.

Undeniably, Lily looked beautiful. She had changed out of her white wedding dress before dinner and was now wearing an evening gown more appropriately designed for movement, and she glided with a natural elegance across the dance floor, her eyes never leaving Potter’s, wearing a grin that lit up her entire face and radiated a joy throughout the room.

It may be cliche to call a redhead fiery , but with Lily it was true. When she was angry, she burned fiercely, like a raging wildfire. In a good mood, she was like a crackling campfire, promising mischief and joy in the darkness of the night. And now… now she wasn’t burning but glowing, like a hearth on Christmas Morning. She was radiant and beautiful and her energy spread throughout the room, engulfing all around her in her comfort and joy. And that, more than anything, was the energy she radiated. She was happy . Somehow, James Potter made her happy. And Severus knew he would endure an eternity of torment at Potter’s hands if that meant the other man could give Lily even a moment of happiness.

The song ended and Severus joined the round of polite applause. With a wave of his hand, James hushed the crowd, then said, “For the next song, we’d like to invite all the unmarried couples to dance. Have yourselves a taste of what tonight is for us!”

There was some polite chortling throughout the room, then a handful of couples made their way to the dance floor - some confidently, others shyly. Severus didn’t even think of moving until he felt Persephone take his now-empty glass from his hand and place it on the table behind them.

“What are you -“

“Unmarried couples. That’s us,” she reminded him.

“Oh. Right.” Severus had almost forgotten about their scheme.

He reluctantly led Persephone into the open space. He wanted to dance with her, but not like this - not with all these people watching - not with Potter watching —

“Do you know how to dance?” Persephone asked as she took his hand in hers and placed the other on his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Good. Then lead me.”

The music began, and Severus just placed his hand on her waist in time to begin the dance.

“I’m beginning to think tonight wasn’t one of my better ideas,” Persephone said as they moved.

“Why’s that?”

“I wanted to teach you about emotional compromise. I seem to have thrown you in at the deep end.”

“How else does one learn to swim?”

“Usually in the shallow end.”

“Well, that’s no fun.”

Persephone laughed, and for a few moments they were quiet, simply enjoying the dance together. Severus had forgotten already about Lily and James, about their jobs or their purpose for the night; he was too enthralled in the fact that he was dancing with a beautiful woman.

Because she was beautiful. She was the opposite to Lily in so many ways — like ice to fire, each powerful and deadly in their own right and yet both necessary for survival. Lily’s hair was a deep auburn red, while Persephone’s was a golden blonde. Lily had warm, inviting green eyes that radiated tranquillity and kindness; Persephone’s were in one moment a cold and distant grey, another a shining silver. 

Even their freckles were different. Lily’s were dark and prominent, starkly contrasted to her pale skin. On the other hand, one could be forgiven for believing Persephone had no freckles at all. They blended into her skin as if camouflaged, and Severus had noticed over the past few weeks that during the summer, they came out in full force; it was only in winter, or nights like tonight where she wore foundation, that their presence was hidden. It was a shame, because her freckles were beautiful, and Severus had on more than one occasion caught himself fantasising about kissing each and every one of them.

“I have one last challenge for you, then you’ve got the rest of the night off,” Persephone was saying, and Severus tried to pull his attention away from staring at her to actually listen to her. He nodded to show he was listening, then she continued, “I want you to keep dancing with me. Keep looking at me like you’re in love with me. Look into my eyes and nowhere else… and tell me what James Potter is thinking.”

Severus was happy to do the first part. He found it very easy to dance with her, to look at her and only her. But to look into Potter’s mind — that was a less appealing prospect.

It was just as easy, though, because Potter’s mind was an open book. Severus hardly had to push into his mind at all to see and hear everything that was going on.

“He’s watching us,” Severus said quietly. He resisted the urge to look up at Potter himself. “He’s feeling… annoyed that I came. He wishes Lily hadn’t invited me. He’s not sure who you are, but he thinks you’re hot and doesn’t understand why you’re here with me.”

“Good. Now do Black. And remember, eyes on me.”

It took Severus a few moments to find Black’s mind, especially as he was doing all this without eye contact, but there he was, the loudest mind in the room.

“He’s also wondering why you’re with me. Merlin, is it so inconceivable to them that I could be with you?” He said bitterly, although he agreed with them - Persephone was much too good for him.

Persephone smirked with satisfaction, her curiosity sated.

“Very good. One more thing, then you’re free for the night.”

“What is it?”

The music began to reach a crescendo.

“Dip me.”

His hand on her back to support her, Severus dropped Persephone into a sweeping dip just as the music ended. The couples around them may have ended their dances too; Severus wouldn’t know. All he could focus on was her, her head thrown back, a laugh on her lips, her hair dangling down behind her. Severus laughed too at the absurdity of it all, then he pulled her back up again.

As Persephone rose from the dip, she let the movement carry her forward until their faces were level, and their lips connected.

The world stopped spinning for a moment. Birds’ wings stopped flapping, and the tides froze in mid-splash. Her lips were on his, she was kissing him, and when his lips parted to free a gasp, she took that as an invitation to deepen the kiss. Her hands were in his hair now, holding him tightly as her tongue began to inch its way past his lips…

He pulled away suddenly. For a moment, they stared at one another, then Severus turned on his heel and left.

[majestyeverlasting]

Can you write prompt(s) 40 & 48 with Dad!Bucky x reader pls?

♡ Of course! Thanks for sending this request in! For the kids, I went ahead and used Jamie and Eden, who are in my Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader fics. There's cute and funny family ~shenanigans~ in this piece (and Eden ends up duping Bucky). I hope you like it!

♡ Prompt 40: "There it is. There's that smile."

♡ Prompt 48: "Those are my pajama pants. They're literally slipping down your waist."

♡ To make a request for my One Month Tumblr-versary, check out my Fluffy Prompt List :)

No Such Thing as Winning By Default Tonight

The way Jamie and Eden greeted Bucky at the door always gave him something to look forward to, to cherish. They were bouncing on the balls of their feet as if it had been ages since they last saw him. In reality, it had only been a span of hours since he’d left that morning. And with sparkling eyes, they waited for him to take off his backpack and shrug off the leather jacket. You’d spent the day out with them, and they were ready to tell their father about everything. From checking out new books at the library, going to the park, and even getting snow cones.

As soon as Bucky finished putting his things in the closet, he scooped Eden up and kissed her cheek. And he pulled Jamie into a hug after giving him a fist bump—the gesture was something the boy insisted they started doing everyday because it was ‘cool.’ It was important not to forget the explosion fingers right after, because that’s what made fist bumps even cooler.

The kids talked a mile a minute as they told Bucky about their day—as if their lives depended on it. Hundreds of people had told him hundreds of things over the years and, yet, listening to their words—and yours—added a value to his life that he hadn't, or couldn’t find anywhere else in the world. A smile stretched across your face when he entered the living room with Jamie and Eden on either side of him. You were sitting on the couch with the laundry basket on the floor in front of you. Folding clothes that, admittedly, should’ve already been taken care of.

Bucky shot you a wink when your eyes met his, and you felt the smallest flutter in your stomach. After spending the day with children, you were glad to have some adult company again. It helped that he was particularly attractive in his unshaven state. “Hey, stranger,” you teased, affectionately. “How was your day?”

“Not too bad,” he said, draping his arms over the kids’ shoulders. “From what these two were telling me, it sounds like you guys went around the world while I was gone.”

That earned a laugh from you. “It feels like we did. I’m not moving for the next week.”

Jamie snorted. “But don’t you have to move? You can’t just stay still,” he said. “You’re moving right now to fold the clothes.”

You gave him a flat look, narrowing your eyes. Everyone else laughed. “Well, in that case, mister, how about you three come do it for me so I don’t have to move?” Your tone was playful.

“Uhhh... Dad can do it. I forgot how to fold,” he lied.

“‘Dad can do it?’” Bucky repeated, looking down at him in feigned disagreement. If you truly needed a break, or wanted any sort of additional help, he’d step in a heartbeat��he always did.

“Wait, I’m actually pretty good at it,” Eden spoke up, leaving her father’s side to plop beside you. “Do you want me to help, Mommy?” Without waiting for an answer, she picked out one of her shirts from the basket.

It was then that Jamie decided he was going to assist too. Instead of joining the two of you on the couch, however, he sat crossed-legged on the floor, and dug to the bottom of the basket in search of his favorite race car graphic tee. The way their brows furrowed in concentration was adorable. And because they were no longer glued to Bucky, he was able to lean down and press a kiss to your temple, hands bracing on the plush arm of the couch. Before he could pull too far away, you cupped his chin and directed his lips to yours in a brief kiss, sighing through your nose. You felt him smile upon hearing the kids’ quiet giggles.

Eden’s voice soon arose. “Hey, Mommy, look. Is this good enough?” Bucky pulled away and straightened back to his full height, clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair.

On Eden’s lap was a white shirt printed with pink flowers that she had folded. “It looks great, E. Put it on the stack of your other stuff.” You pointed to the clothes of hers that you had already folded.

What you ended up finding later that evening was that one of the kids had accidentally placed Bucky’s navy blue pajama pants in your sleepwear drawer. Considering he was off in the playroom with them, you decided to put them on to go get a reaction out of him. You paired them with a gray V-neck.

When you walked in on him and the kids, they were winning in what appeared to be a play fight. They hovered over him as his back was against the floor. A helpless smile budded on your face as you stood watching in the doorway. He tried to prop himself up upon noticing you, but Jamie growled and pushed chest back down.

“Do you surrender?” He asked his father.

A laugh bubbled up Bucky’s throat. “Yes, I surrender.”

“I don’t believe him,” Eden told Jamie.

“I do! I promise,” Bucky said. “I just wanna talk to your mom.”

They let him sit up, and you caught the way his gaze traveled up your body. “Hey… those are my pajama pants,” he said, pushing himself from the floor to go stand in front of you. “They’re literally slipping down your waist.” To prove his point, he attempted to pull them up to a more proper resting place on your hips. But they slouched back down a bit when he let go.

“No they’re not," you challenged with a smile. "They’re mine."

“Oh, is that right?” He let his hands come to rest on your hips, and in turn you wrapped your arms around his neck, gazing into his eyes. “They look good on you,” he said, voice low. And before you could register his intentions, he reached around you to squeeze your backside.

Bucky chuckled at your small squeak and dipped down for a kiss. He was gentle, and warm, and smelled woodsy. When he started to pull away, you thought it was way too soon. But, a second later, you realized it was because Jamie had started tugging on the back of his shirt.

You stifled a laugh at the way he rolled his eyes before turning around. “May I help you?” He asked the boy.

“Can we do one more round?” Jamie asked. “But this time you have to go harder on us.”

Eden came to stand beside her brother’s side. “Yeah! And Mommy can be on a team with me and Jamie,” she said.

Bucky looked back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You up for that?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Maybe I should just watch. These pants probably make me wardrobe malfunction prone.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “You’ll be fine.”

That assurance is what landed you in a four-person play fight. Per Jamie’s request, Bucky does exert a little more effort. But he was still overly mindful that nobody got hurt in any other way. For the first few moments, you drew back and let Jamie and Eden make most of the advances on their father. They practically cackled every time he pinned them.

But he eventually locked eyes with you, and you knew he wasn't going to let you remain in the background of the action anymore. All you could do was squeal when he made a very direct advancement. Because you were already kneeling, it didn’t take much for him to force you the rest of the way to the floor. It happened so swiftly that all you could do was let out a surprised huff of laughter. Somehow he managed to capture both of your wrist.

“He’s got Mommy!” You heard Eden say. Then she came to your rescue by pushing his shoulder to divert his attention.

In the sliver of time before Bucky walked on his knees to get the girl, Jamie did a discrete signal to her that she nodded to. All it was was a quick swipe of his pointer finger down his cheek. And between you and Bucky, only you caught their quick exchange. It took a second for it to click that he had told her to fake cry. Or pretend to be hurt, at least.

As soon as Bucky gathered Eden into his arms, and lowered her to the floor in the most gentle 'slam' ever, she enacted their scheme. From her lying position, she winced and released a soft whine. There was no possible way that what he did could've caused any pain, but Bucky didn't even rationalize that. The only thing that rang in his mind was that he'd just hurt his little girl.

“Shoot! I’m sorry, babydoll.” He repositioned to sit in a narrow straddle, and coaxed her up to sit on his thigh. The tenderness of his voice made you want to tell him that she was fine. "What hurts, hmm?" She just continued pouting. Jamie put a hand over his mouth to hide either a smile or shock that it actually worked.

Bucky sighed as his eyes flickered over to you. All you could do was offer an expression that was likely a mix between neutral and guilty. Then he redirected his attention back to Eden and started pressing consoling kisses to her hair. When he noticed her beginning to smile, relief flooded through him. “There it is. There’s that smile,” he said. "I really am sorry, sunshine. Didn't mean to hurt you."

She craned her neck to look up at him. "Daddy..." she said, voice tentative. "I was just kidding..."

Jamie was quick to pitch in. "I only told her to so we could win by default or something. At least she's actually okay, right?" The hopeful edge to his tone made you bite back a smile. "Mom was in on it too." Snitch.

Bucky's mouth fell slightly agape, but he let out a small laugh a second later, shaking his head. "Wow," he breathed. "'Win by default,' huh? Give me a heart attack to 'win by default.'" In all fairness, it had been a somewhat mean trick. But nothing he couldn't recover from.

"I didn't even know if you were gonna believe me!" Eden claimed. She squealed when he suddenly laid onto his back, taking her with him. The sound of their mixed laughter filled the room, and the energetic buzz returned to the atmosphere.

Then Bucky made a proposal to your team. "You guys are gonna have to come save little miss from my arms if you wanna win for real," he said. "No such thing as winning by default tonight."

-

Previously fulfilled request: Cold Little Paws.

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Spoiling Dinner

So... been a while since I shared a slice of my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings and Always, hasn’t it? A whole month in fact. Yikes! Don’t worry, I’m still working on it, just, ya know, chronic illness. I’ve been getting less spoons to work with these past few weeks. Don’t be surprised if the next clip takes another month to appear.

Anyhoo, onto the clip itself. I figure why not show off some more drama from Step 2? It was referenced in the Adrift snippet that Jamie chose their thirteenth summer to be the time to reveal the big deal Cliff offered her to Cove, so I figured why not give a peek at that? So here’s another slice of Step 2′s moment, Dinner.

As always, thank you to everyone who enjoys reading my work and giving me such lovely feedback, especially the game’s lovely creators @gb-patch. I can’t thank you all enough for encouraging me to keep working on this self-indulgent little fan project.

...

Despite the fact that Cove and Elizabeth had never been friends, and it was rare they even really got along, it was always interesting to see and hear about how Jamie interacted with her big sister. The relationship Jamie and Elizabeth had was always something he could never quite get a grasp on.

“I can’t even imagine what it’d be like to have a sibling,” he admitted after a moment.

Jamie took some time to give serious thought to that statement. It was a tricky thing to explain to someone without a point of reference. A sibling relationship wasn’t anything like a parental one, and it wasn’t really like making friends with a kid who just happened to live in the same house either.

It was also hard for Jamie to want to touch on a topic that would bring the mood down. Still, Cove did remind her recently that he wanted to listen to her problems…

“It’s complicated,” Jamie eventually concluded. She took her time to choose her words with care as she focused her gaze on the tank again, though she didn’t really watch the fish this time. “I love Elizabeth, and when we were really little, we were best friends. Then she started making friends at school like Shiloh and, well… It’s just over time, I guess we just grew apart. She’s still a lot of fun to be around, but only when she wants to be there.” Her voice quieted a little. “But now, she barely feels like hanging out with me.”

Cove couldn’t think of how to respond right away as he grew aware of the melancholy that had settled over his best friend. He knew Jamie and Elizabeth didn’t spend all that much time together, but he hadn’t realized it was something that bothered Jamie. He took his time to consider what to say, pursing his lips as he tried to figure out the best way to help Jamie with something he never had to deal with before.

“Maybe you should talk to her about how you feel about it sometime,” Cove suggested, though with an uncertain note to his voice. He couldn’t even imagine how that talk might go. “If it’s really bothering you, I’m pretty sure Elizabeth would wanna know.”

Jamie considered that before shaking her head a little. “It’s fine. It’s not really that big a deal. Besides, I don’t think that’d really work.” She favored Cove with a bent smile. “I mean, this is Elizabeth we’re talking about here.”

Cove had to admit Jamie had a point there. Although not intentionally malicious, Elizabeth did have a tendency to overlook other peoples’ feelings when it came to doing what she wanted. “I guess you’re right about that.”

Jamie turned to face Cove properly as she strengthened her smile, feeling compelled to soften the awkward atmosphere she had created. “Don’t worry about it. Having a sibling is still pretty great anyway.” She playfully nudged him with her elbow. “And besides, I already have the most amazing best friend in the entire world by my side.”

Cove felt warmth fill his cheeks at that, and he nudged Jamie back softly in return with a shy smile of his own. “I feel the same way.”

Jamie relaxed a bit now that the mood had returned to something more jovial. “And in case you were wondering what it’s like to have two moms, it’s absolutely the best.”

Cove nodded. Even if Elizabeth could be a challenge to get along with at times, he had always known Noelani and Pamela to be friendly and encouraging, if a bit strict with their rules. The Leimomi family were overall probably the best neighbors he ever had, especially Jamie. “That’s… interesting. I think your family is cool.”

Jamie flashed Cove a grin, glad he agreed. It was impossible not to feel like she hit the jackpot when it came to the family that she ended up with. She couldn’t consider having better parents, or even a better sibling.

Of course, talking about parents brought Jamie’s mind back to the dinner she was going to have with Cove and his. Things were weird between the three of them in ways she didn’t know how to touch on.

The little surprise Cliff pulled at the beginning of summer had just made things even more strained. Things felt tense in a way that reminded Jamie of when Cove first moved to Sunset Bird.

That line of thought brought Jamie back to the first time she met Cliff and the deal he had offered her.

Jamie glanced at Cove out of the corner of her eye, noticing that he had gone back to looking at his fish. He probably never learned that ever happened. She doubted that Cliff ever mentioned it, and as for her…

It bothered her. The incident hung over her head for the past five years, popping up in her mind at awkward moments that left her feeling guilty despite the fact that she never took the twenty dollars Cliff had offered her.

When Jamie was little, she held the secret back from Cove for fear that he might decide not to be her friend anymore. He resented being pressured into becoming friends with Lizzie and Shiloh, so he never did. Granted, that was more because he just didn’t click with either of them than due to parental meddling, but still… In her eight-year-old mind, she was convinced that if Cove ever learned that Cliff wanted to pay her to be his friend, he would be so upset that he would never want to see her again.

That fear had disappeared over time as their relationship grew stronger, but that didn’t make the subject trouble her any less.

Jamie was keeping a secret from Cove - a big one. Usually, they told each other everything from silly jokes to their darkest thoughts. The only other thing she kept from him was just how deep her feelings were for him, and she already had a plan in motion for how she was going to tell him about that.

Much like with her crush, Jamie had sought out Lee’s advice about the incident with the twenty dollars. Her cousin had encouraged her to just tell Cove about it, if only because it bothered her for so long and wouldn’t stop haunting her.

Besides, Cove deserved to know that his dad did something like that behind his back. This incident with Kyra proved that Cliff was still pulling stunts like this, and not just on him.

Jamie knew that if the positions were reversed, she would want to know the truth about something as big as this, and as soon as possible.

It had been five years. They weren’t eight anymore. Telling Cove wouldn’t destroy their friendship.

She had to tell him.

Jamie placed her hands on the mattress to steady herself, drawing one back into her lap when she accidentally brushed it against Cove’s thigh. The unintended touch drew his gaze back to her - she could feel it even through her closed eyes. She took in a deep, steadying breath as she prepared herself.

The quiet that had settled between them was comfortable, Cove thought, finding it a sharp contrast to the uneasy atmosphere that had overtaken his home since the beginning of summer. Jamie’s presence made things easier on him - it always did.

That was why Cove didn’t expect to see Jamie looking so tense all of a sudden. He could tell that she was building herself up for something, but he couldn’t imagine what. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, her expression was solemn and tainted with nervousness.

“Cove,” Jamie said before pausing to wet her lips. “There’s something… I-I have something important to tell you. Something… something you’re not gonna like.”

The undercurrent of unease to the way Jamie spoke troubled Cove almost as much as what she said. He turned to give her his full attention, his knees bumping against hers in the process. “What is it?”

For a moment, Jamie could only stare into her best friend’s ocean blue eyes. Cove waited patiently for her to find her voice again, but the longer it took her, the greater the tension grew. She could see it in the way his brow furrowed and his lips curled down into a frown.

Please don’t get mad about this, Jamie thought desperately, feeling as though her stomach was tying itself in knots. She was already regretting her decision, but she had already said too much; she couldn’t just drop the topic as if it never happened. She had to take another deep breath to steady her nerves as they started to fray on her.

“It’s… um… it’s about way back when you moved here,” Jamie finally said, practically forcing the words out. “Before we met, I actually met your dad first and���” She started to falter as what she wanted to say started to fall apart in her mind, and she scrambled to right herself. “It was… your dad he… um, well…”

Jamie had to pause to gulp down another lungful of air, feeling as though there suddenly wasn’t enough around her.

Cove started bracing himself for whatever Jamie was struggling to tell him. The more she spoke, the more nervous she grew, and it was making him anxious as well, impressing upon him the seriousness of what she wanted to tell him.

Whatever this was, it was big, and he needed to be ready to deal with it.

“Your dad offered me twenty dollars to be friends with you.”

The words came out of Jamie in a rush then hung so heavily in the air between them that the already thick atmosphere turned suffocating.

Cove locked up. For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t even think. What Jamie told him made everything else disappear.

His dad… bribed Jamie to be his friend?

Jamie held her breath as she waited for Cove to respond. He sat still, so utterly still. He was no longer looking at her, but through her, as if she ceased to exist. His face, always so easy for her to read, was uncharacteristically devoid of expression.

Then Cove was moving. He said nothing as he rose from the bed before bolting from the room.

For a moment, Jamie froze up as well. Shock kept her rooted to the bed even after Cove disappeared around the corner.

This was… oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no!

Jamie tore after Cove once she could move again, panic giving her feet wings. “Cove!”

Cove didn’t hear Jamie. He didn’t even hear his parents as they bantered while setting the table, oblivious to what was happening. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears as he reached the living room.

For a moment, Cove could only stand there and glare at his father. His entire body was a tense coil, ready to spring. His hands faintly shook from how tightly he clenched them into fists at his sides.

Although Jamie caught up to Cove, she froze again just short of him. She didn’t need to see his face to know exactly what he was feeling - he was furious.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kyra asked as she finished setting down the last glass on the table. “When did you start running in the house?”

Cliff flashed Cove a wink as he wagged the spoons he carried at his son. “Are you that famished?”

The friendly banter didn’t register with Cove at all. There was room for nothing else inside his mind but the betrayal he felt towards his father that sent his entire body quaking with rage.

It had only just begun to hit Cliff and Kyra that something was wrong when Cove took a step forward.

“You paid Jamie to be friends with me?!” Cove shouted as he glared daggers straight into his father’s widening eyes.

Cliff froze, the spoons dropping from his hands onto the table with a clatter. He looked like a helpless deer caught in the headlights of a speeding semi.

Kyra recovered from the shock first, and rounded on her ex-husband. “Clifford!” she shouted as outrage overtook her as well. “Are you serious?!”

Out of reflex, Cliff turned his wide eyes to Kyra, blinking at her rapidly. “It was only one time!”

The blurted admission left Kyra reeling back, aghast.

Cliff raised his hands up in a defensive gesture, his eyes darting between his ex-wife and his son as they both stared him down. “I-it seemed like a good idea when it happened.”

As the shock waned, Kyra brought a hand over her eyes. Her jaw was set, her patience frayed, as anger slowly gave way to disappointment.

Cliff bowed his head as he rubbed the back of his neck, almost shrinking in on himself before their eyes. The fact that Kyra accepted that he would do something like this so easily was the most crushing part.

For all his anger, Cove had nothing else he could say to his father after his initial outburst. He could only stand there, fuming silently during his parents’ short exchange. The tension in his body was so strong it was painful, his eyebrows furrowed hard and his eyes trembling as he continued to glare at his father.

That was all Cliff had to say for himself? That he ‘only’ did it once? That it ‘seemed like a good idea’? What part of this could be considered ‘good’ at all?!

Jamie could only watch helplessly from the sidelines at the disaster she had created. She had been afraid that Cove might be angry or hurt to hear about the deal his dad offered to her, but he took it far worse than she ever imagined. That wasn’t even going into how badly Kyra or Cliff were feeling about it all.

Jamie felt so bad for Cove. She wished for the power to rewind time to five minutes ago so that she could choose to just keep her big mouth shut. Having a stupid secret about something she didn’t even agree to hanging over her head was nothing compared to the pain that she had inflicted on her best friend and his family.

Everything was horrible, and it was all her fault.

[imjeralee]

i request that you drink plenty of water and take care of yourself !!! ·o·b after thats done, came i pretty please get headcanons with link, Kaeya and maybe Childe about an s/o who draws them one day as a confession and gives it to them? :) (maybe they already knew and saw them drawing them before ? who knows) thank you in advance!!

Thank you anon! *looks at cup of green tea beside laptop* yep I think i’m doing well in keeping myself hydrated recently hehe but thank you :3

Anyway please see below for the ask! (it’s pretty long)

Link

He was grooming one of the ponies when he saw you standing behind a tent peeking at him curiously and when he turned round properly, you quickly scampered away and he got worried so he followed you to the room you share to see you sitting on the bed with a wine red book propped up in your lap but upon his return, you immediately hid it behind your back, smiling widely at him

He wonders what it was but decides not to pry, but he later discovers it was actually a sketchbook when he’s packing up for tomorrow and you’re taking a bath and the sketchbook drops out of your pack and onto the floor, opening at a random page

He picks it up with the intention to return it to your bag but then he sees the various drawings of him in his Ancient Armour set, Hylian and Snowquill set. They’re fully coloured and it looks like you’ve spent hours on them. He didn’t know you were this artistic and wondered why you hid this from him

The date you wrote on the bottom of the page indicates that you drew all this in one day! He’s super impressed

Then he sees the note you wrote below: “To my Dearest Link, I hope you like my drawings of you. All I can think about is how lucky I am to be able to be by your side, you’ve changed my life for the better and-”

Obv half complete so now he knows why you didn’t want to show him and he respects your privacy, so he puts the sketchbook away 

Outside, he sees Beedle and goes over to see what’s new for sale. Beedle has some cool art stuff (well, it’s more like stuff that can be used for dye but can also be used as paint) so he buys some for you as a present which he will give to you later.

Next day, you get chased by a group of Bokogoblins and the book and all your drawing supplies drops out from your bag. 

You didn’t see it drop and returned to the stable, ransacking your bag like crazy only to find your stuff missing

When you realise everything must have dropped out when you got chased, you quickly leave the stable to go back to the area but it’s thunder and lightning so Link chases after you

“Link, what are you doing? Go back, the weather’s awful.” You tell him but he shakes his head, unable to leave you alone in the rain like this

He helps you with your search and you end up locating your book and your supplies which are lying in the mud

The book has been trampled over and some of the pages have been torn out. The remaining pages are soaked with dirt and grime. Your pencils are snapped in half and your paints have been left to bleed all over the grass. All of your drawings are ruined, too. This is your worst nightmare.

Link observes you silently as tears begins to form in your eyes and you look at him, sniffling slightly.

You’re experiencing a mixture of devastation, frustration, anger and exasperation - from your carelessness to the stupid bokogoblins - and this incident infuriates you so much you throw the book to the ground angrily

Before you can march away, Link grabs your wrist 

Turning round, your gazes meet and he looks at you softly, intently.

‘What’s wrong?’ he is saying. 

“I was going to use those to confess to you!” you end up roaring out by accident. 

Link looks at you, a little stunned

“N-Never mind! Everything’s ruined!!!!” 

You’re about to storm off again when Link suddenly pulls you into his chest and gives you a hug

“!” you’re so shocked you can’t speak

He pulls away though, and leads you to the hollow of a nearby tree trunk where he gestures for you to sit down to shelter from the rain whilst he glances around, then sprints back over to where the ruined sketchbook is

He picks it up and holds it against his chest as if it’s dear to him. That’s not all, you watch as he begins to pick up the remaining pages that were torn out and once he’s collected them all he returns to you, clutching the pages tightly

"Link...” you murmur breathlessly as he he kneels down in front of you before he fishes around in his pockets to reveal a random bunch of paint pots in his hand.

You’re a little confused, but realise he has some spares which he must have bought from a merchant

it’s not much but...

he nudges it to you for your offering

You gawp at him for a few moments before you smile and chuckle and upon seeing you back to your usual self again, Link smiles and helps you back onto your own feet to stand

You thank him as you cradle the paints to yourself. You will need to restart from scratch from somehow it feels ok and something tells you you don’t need to hide it from him anymore

And you return to the stable, sheltering from the rain by sharing a large leaf together

Kaeya

Let’s begin with the fact that alongside you, there is a maid who also likes Kaeya as much as you do and she’s a bit of a sneaky bugger and you don’t show your drawings to anyone or watermark your artwork until they’re complete. You can probably see where this is going

One day, Kaeya finds out you are drawing a picture of him when he comes to your office to inform you that there’s a group of abyss mages outside Mondstadt so you hurry off to dispatch it and leaving Kaeya in your office

He accidentally comes across your drawing when he sees his face on a piece of parchment and his interest is piqued so he heads over to check it out

It’s a really good sketch!!! the amount of detail is insane! he had no idea you possessed such skill and who knew that you could create such beautiful art like this? He also finds some rough doodles and sketches you made earlier on some scrap paper you had also written on so he knows it’s you

Anyway, he puts everything back to join you in battle, but not before passing a maid along the way who is heading to your room to clean up

She comes across your drawing and she’s always fancied Kaeya herself, so for some reason other than just thinking she might be able to get away with it if she’s sneaky enough, she takes your drawing and sets off with it

Meanwhile, you return to your room after the battle, take off your coat and sit comfortably in your chair, reaching for your quill

“Ah, time to get back to my drawing of Kaeya.” you say with a smile, looking at your desk.

Wait a minute.

Something is wrong.

Very wrong.

It’s GONE!

After checking the rest of your office (and its clearly not there), you rush outside, wondering what happened to it when you see Kaeya and a maid talking in the corridor

they didn’t see you, so you quickly hide

“Please accept this, captain Kaeya!” gushes the maid, presenting your drawing to him. “I drew this picture of you to show how much you mean to me.”

What in the Samachurl shit is this? 

You’re about to storm over when Kaeya takes the drawing with a delicate brow raised, studies it intently and goes, “Oh? But I’m not so sure about that.”

“W-what do you mean, Captain Kaeya?”

“There’s no watermark on it,” he points out, “....one could’ve taken anyone’s artwork and claim that it’s theirs.”

“T-That’s - ! Ah, Captain Kaeya, h-how could you think so lowly of me?”

“I’m only just stating some simple facts, that’s all. You won’t hold that against me, will you? And I’m certainly not accusing you of anything...unless you...?”

“Oh....uh....I...I-I’m so sorry, Captain Kaeya, you’re right! I-I....please excuse me!”

The maid’s too embarrassed to proceed any further and leaves, running away.

Indeed, what in the samachurl hell had just happened? 

It goes quiet and you wonder if he’s still there; you step out of your hiding place only to go nose-to-chest with Kaeya.

He greets you with a smirk. “if it isn’t the little kitten, what are you doing here?”

“Um...uh, I....that....that drawing - “

What he said is right, there’s no watermark. How can you prove it’s yours? Would he believe you if you told him?

“Hm? Ah, yes, this drawing. I was going to keep it for myself.”

“No, wait! I mean...er...it’s not finished yet-”

“So you drew this then?”

“Yes, I did. it was me.” Though you wonder if he would believe you after everything you had just heard.

“Why?”

You lamely tell him you really like him and wanted to use it to confess to him.

He watches you for a few seconds, then hands the drawing to you. “I’ll wait until you’ve finished then.”

“Huh?” You gasp. He gave it back to you so easily despite what he said to the maid! “You...you’re not-”

“I knew it was you who drew it. I recognised your style.”

“Then why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“If I said so earlier, how else would I get you to confess to me?”

“KAEYA!!!”

(from then on he’ll want you to draw him more often)

Childe

Saw you sitting on the grassy hill near Qingxu Pool drawing earlier and because he is good at sneaking up on people, you didn’t hear him as he casually leaned over to peek over your shoulder and said, “Hey girlie, what’re you up to?”

You’re like “UWAGH!” and quickly close your sketchbook before turning round to see Childe.

“N-nothing!” you exclaim, before you get up and run down the hill, leaving a very amused Childe on his own

Later, when you’ve finished your masterpiece, you nervously approach Childe and tell him, “Um....this is for you, let me know what you think.” before rushing off in a blushing mess and Childe will open the sketchbook to see that you’ve drawn a very nice portrait of him in a battle stance, wielding his bow, surrounded by his hydro blades

Childe stands, staring at the picture

Then he sees the words ‘do you like me?’ scribbled at the very bottom

Childe staring hard now

He’s used to giving people gifts but now that he’s received something so thoughtful, he’s a bit overwhelmed. he can tell you put so much effort and hardwork into this. Ah, what is this feeling? 

He closes the book without further ado and scrubs a hand over his face

he actually wasn’t expecting you to do this. he knew you were drawing him but the result is really....something else

You don’t hear him from Childe in a few days and you are so nervous and worried.

Is this a rejection? Maybe he didn’t like your picture after all...

You’re walking in the streets and sigh and sit on the stone steps of Liyue, staring at the sea, upset and dejected

But then you hear a whistle from behind and throw a glance over your shoulder to see Childe standing on a higher step, a hand in his pocket

“Hey girlie, heads up,” he tosses a paper plane into the air which makes this little loop before you stand to catch it

Looking up, Childe has gone

You unfold the paper plane to its proper size to reveal that Childe’s drawn a little sketch of you in return and he has written: ‘Yes I do’.

[jisungsplatforms]

[Chapter II: The Red Beanie Cutie]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Mature Content! strong language, sexting, masterbation (m&f) + kinda guided masterbation (f), nudes/unsolicited pictures of *certain areas*

Chapter word count: 1.5k (relatively short chapter)

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka (want to be added? send an ask or a dm! <3)

Min’s ho3: uh- hi? 👋🏻

this is minho’s “fine ass friend with the red beanie” 👁👁

shitshitshitshit SHIT.

Your mind was jumbled and your palms were sweaty. How the hell did I even get his number? You backtrack to an hour ago, back at the party….To when Minho asked for your phone.

...Minho…...

You bit your lip, trying to think logically. No no no. It’s probably not the red beanie cutie, Y/n. It’s probably just Minho being an ass again and pretending to be his friend. That’s it! At least...That’s what you hope.

Min’s ho3: uhh hello? you still there?

im hoping that this is the cutie who was babysitting hyunjin earlier lol

Your blood ran cold. You really didn’t want to believe it. No way was it really the red beanie cutie.

Me: If this REALLY is the cute boy with the red hat...send me a picture.

You sighed. This should prove something. Your phone ‘pinged’ a second later.

Min’s ho3: damn straight to the point, are you? youre a lot more bold than i thought

You shivered, turning red. As much as you wanted to fuck him, you didn’t want to look desperate.

Me: I meant an INNOCENT picture. Of your face, I mean.

Min’s ho3: uh- duh! that’s what i meant???

what did YOU think??

Your face burned at the thought of misinterpreting his “innocent” message.

Me: Just thought I had to clarify for you! Nasty

Min’s ho3: whatever you say, babe 😙🤪

You gave him a minute for him to respond, putting down your phone to give yourself a breather. You sincerely hope that this was Minho cause that option is MUCH better than accidentally texting the person you’re thirsting over. After about 30 seconds, your phone pinged twice. One from Min’s hoe...and one from Minho ho ho. Oh dear lord.

You decided to read Minho’s messages first. Tapping on his notification, the phone directed you to your chat, revealing the conversation you two had during the party.

Minho ho ho 😼: You’re welcome 😉

You were seriously panicking at this point. Your fingers tapped onto the keyboard like a madman. You didn’t know if you wanted to hug Minho or murder that bitch.

Me: shutupshutupshutup You did NOT

Minho ho ho 😼: Oh but I did, my dear best friend haha gross

Better play your cards correctly, sweetie. Just keep in mind...he asked for your number!

His name is Jisung btw! Be nice to him! He’s a shy, sensitive boy. I’ll kill you if you make him sad!

You ignored Minho’s last sentence and nearly squealed at the information, trying to play it cool. You giddily switched to Jisung’s tab. Huge mistake. You should’ve prepared yourself, at least a little. You knew he was hot but the picture he sent you? Oh boy. His hair, which you now know is blond under that beanie, was tousled, falling perfectly on his gorgeous face. In the picture, he was now wearing a grey hoodie and posed like a model, the expression had was absolutely fierce. Oh yeah, he knows he’s hot shit.

Min’s ho3: *image*

it’s a little messy. srry i tried making it a little nicer for you, you know. since you’re a photography major and all that.

Me: No, It’s fine!! I think you look hot! 👍

You wanted to slap yourself. Oh Lord, please end me. Your phone lit up with another text.

Min’s ho3: oh really? 😏

well i think you’re hot too, y/n 😉😚

AHHHHHH

Me: Wait how’d you know my name? And my major?

Minho’s ho3: uhhh you are minho’s friend right??? cause that’s what he told ME and i’m really hoping he didn’t give me the wrong number…

cause honestly. it is something he would legit do alkskdjks

Me: Rest assured. This really is Y/n the photography major

Min’s ho3: well y/n the photography major

i’m jisung and i think youre hot too

and not to be nsfw or anything but i’d like to fuck you too 😉😉

ohmygoshohmygosh. This is really happening. Taking the little bit of confidence you had, you texted him something you thought was bold.

Me: Oh really now? Think you can fuck me good, pretty boy?

Min’s ho3: oh baby i know i’ll have you seeing stars

fuck you so good you won’t be able to think about anything but me and me only

You had to put down your phone to take another breather. Now, not only were your palms wet but so was between your legs. You’ve never texted with anybody like this but there’s a first time for everything, right? Your dominant hand slid down to your pajamas to tease your clit over the cotton material. Shy, my ass…

Min’s ho3: wait wait wait. before we do anything, just let me confirm something

you are single, right? youre not dating hyunjin or anything??

You stopped your movements on your clit. Am I seeing this right? You reread the message a few more times before bursting out in laughter.

Me: HAHAHAHAHA NO WE’RE NOT

Hyunjin’s my best friend. Been friends since we were 5. Dating Hyunjin would be like dating your brother ew

Min’s ho3: LOL OKAY OKAY. just making sure

infidelity is NOT my thing

You were heart warmed. He made sure you weren’t with anyone before getting nasty. Which shouldn’t make you so touched, it should be a basic common courtesy, but nonetheless, it still made you happy knowing he’s a respectable person.

Min’s ho3: okay now that i know i can have you

do you still want to continue?

Me: Yes daddy ;)

Min’s ho3: oh fuck okay

since you left so early, we didn’t get to talk, beautiful

we could’ve been fucking right now instead of texting

Me: Well...we could do both

Your hand went back to your clit, this time reaching inside your bottoms.

Me: You make me so horny baby

I want you

Min’s ho3: already touching yourself babe? how naughty

I barely even said anything but here you are. playing with yourself like some desperate whore

You whimpered, putting more pressure on your clit. You were never that into degrading but with Jisung? You’d gladly take it any day.

Me: Please tell me what to do sir

Min’s ho3: finger yourself. only one finger tho

You removed your pajamas and panties and flung them to the floor. You rubbed your thigh with one hand and slowly moved it to your sopping core. Gathering your wetness, you fondled yourself before inserting your middle finger inside you. “Hmm...fuck,” you moaned. With your other hand, you checked Jisung’s text when you saw your phone light up.

Min’s ho3: are you doing it baby?

Me: Yes sir

Min’s ho3: really? good. keep playing with yourself

i’ll tell you when i want you to stop

You sighed, pumping your finger. You wanted to enjoy it but it wasn’t enough. You definitely needed something more than just one mere finger. You contemplated whether or not you should disobey Jisung and grab your dildo from between your mattress. But you also wanted to see how much he could make you cum with just his words.

Min’s ho3: one finger babe?

You moved your phone and angled it to show your pussy. You wanted to moan seeing your finger deep inside you. Snapping a pic and sending it to Jisung, you threw your phone beside you and started pumping your middle finger faster, circling your clit with your thumb. Immediately, your phone lit up again.

Min’s ho3: fuck baby you’ll be the death of me

you know what? add two more fingers for me, beautiful. you deserve it

You cried, slipping your pointer and ring finger into your core. Now you definitely feel a lot fuller. You pumped your fingers in and out, breathing heavily. You felt so dirty, taking orders like this from a man you barely even knew. There was something so erotic about the whole thing that it drew you closer to your orgasm.

Jisung, on the other hand, was going insane as well; who wouldn’t be when he’s sexting with the most attractive person he’s ever seen? His right hand pumped his cock like a maniac. He was sweating, biting his thin lips so that no noise can come out, potentially waking up his hyungs. He knew he would die of embarrassment if they caught him masterbating to someone he just met today-or just masterbating in general-but it was getting harder to control himself. Especially with that little surprise photo? Shit- he thought he was in heaven, feeling like he would cum in that moment. The sound of a notification from his phone made his grab it from his desk.

Y/n the cute photographer: Closr! I’m so fuckinf ckose

Wsnna cum si bad

Me: yeah? then cum fir me y/n

With Jisung’s permission, you let your release taint your once clean bed. You shook as you orgasmed, moaning so loud you were glad your roommate was out of town. Once you finished, you slowly pulled your fingers out, wincing when the emptiness kicked in. You laid like a dead fish, trying to catch your breath. Your orgasm was so intense that you almost immediately fell asleep. Almost. A notification from Jisung shook you out of your trance.

(3) new message(s) from Min’s ho3

Min’s ho3: *image*

look how much you drive me mad, baby

hm you’re probably tired now after hopefully cumming so much so i’ll leave you...goodnight, y/n! hope you sleep well tonight cutie 😚

You sighed in frustration. How dare he switch from daddy to baby so fast. How are you supposed to sleep when he sent you a clear, mouthwatering image of his dick and abs covered in his cum?

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[teawaffles]

The Conspiratorial Bullet: Chapter 7, Part 2

“Mr William James Moriarty?”

Having been politely addressed by his full name, William responded with a gentle smile. It could even be called divine: strangely, the sight of it quietened Kevin’s tumultuous heart.

However, there was still the matter of the live bullet. In place of Kevin, who was yet unable to organise his thoughts, Andy frowned.

“William. Why are you here?”

“That isn’t the right question to ask, now is it? Rather, how did I find out that this terrible sight was entirely of your making? — I think that’s an appropriate question.”

“This is, all made up……?”

Kevin absorbed those words, and then called out to Andy.

“What’s the meaning of this!? Was this all contrived by you!?”

But Andy shoved him aside, as if he found his presence galling.

“Poppycock! This young man doesn’t know what he’s saying! You used that gun to murder Helena — that’s the undeniable truth!”

“Guh……”

Kevin groaned. Andy’s words had cut to the quick, and the resultant guilt instantly plunged him into despondency. But as he hung his head, William asked him a question.

“Mr Kevin. How did that gun come to be in your possession?”

“What’s this? You’re an outsider, so don’t butt in.”

“Lord Andy, please stop talking for a moment. Well then, Mr Kevin: what’s your answer?”

At William’s dignified voice, even Andy, who’d been about to make a complaint, fell silent. Kevin’s gaze landed on his revolver in the old man’s hand.

“That…… It was given to me for use during the game. At the time, I thought it was a toy. After that, I got embroiled in a fight and lost it, then picked it up again.”

Then, William posed him another question.

“When you picked it up, how did you know it was yours?”

“Huh? You didn’t have to ask that: the gun has a card with a number attached to it.”

“I see. So you knew from the number on the card.”

William looked at the number 8 written on it.

“In that case, if a malicious third party were to take that card off your revolver and tie it onto a real gun, would you have noticed that?”

“……Huh?”

At that significant remark, Kevin looked at the gun once again. He shook his head.

“No, it would be impossible for me. I wouldn’t have noticed. After all, that toy looks exactly like the real thing.”

“That’s right — and Lord Andy used that fact to switch your gun with a real one.”

“Wha……!?”

His deduction had left Kevin speechless. Right away, Andy refuted the idea.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“The reason has been eloquently illustrated by the bargain you tried to strike earlier. You wanted to drive Mr Kevin to ruin by falsely accusing him of the murder of his child — and on top of that, you wanted to steal the profits from his business.”

“W-What malarkey is this?!”

William ignored his howls of rage, and continued.

“You probably drew up this scheme when we proposed this game. Because it uses guns that look just like the real thing, you could stage an accident in which one accidentally fires live ammunition. Moreover, the toy guns are marked using cards tied with string — making it easy to swap one for a real gun.”

Kevin paled.

“Then, was Lord Andy aiming for me to lose my gun?”

“Indeed. You thought that you’d lost it of your own accord, Mr Kevin, but that’s not the case: at some point, Lord Andy deliberately knocked into you, or did something similar in order to get you to drop it. After which, you found Miss Helena — perhaps Lord Andy found her beforehand, and led you to stumble across her. Then, he got you to shoot her. After that, he blamed you for the murder in order to sow guilt, such that you would act exactly as he wished. That’s the entirety of his plan.”

“…………”

Yet again, Kevin was speechless at that horrific scheme William had so eloquently described. However, Andy — who was now under suspicion — clenched his fists as he trembled all over.

“Kevin-kun, don’t listen to him. Everything he said is no more than speculation. It might sound like I did it, but there’s no proof, none at all.”

“——Then allow me to make my statement.”

Suddenly, a cheerful voice could be heard addressing them from above. Then, a man jumped down from a tree beside them.

He landed gracefully on his feet, and bowed politely to the three men at the scene. From his blindfold, Kevin realised who he was.

“……Mr Herder?”

“Indeed. For today’s game, I have been entrusted with the duties of both explaining the game and refereeing it. My name is Von Herder. I hope you may pardon me for startling you with my sudden intrusion.”

After introducing himself once again, Herder turned to face Andy.

“Well then, I have an important report to make with regards to the matter you’ve been discussing thus far…… After Lord Andy got separated from Mr Kevin, he picked up the dropped gun, untied the cord, and retied it onto a real gun he had concealed on his person — that, I personally witnessed. That may come across as a contradiction, seeing as I’m blind, but I’d appreciate it if you could let that slide.”

“Although he took on the role of referee, I asked him to pay particular attention to both of your movements,” William added.

“Hold on — this Herder guy is one of your men, isn’t he? Then he could very well be spouting lies to match your story.”

Andy was quick to raise his objections, and Herder cocked his head as if he were troubled.

“Right where it hurts, huh. So you’re saying that a testimony from one’s own circle is inadmissible. Moreover, when the guns were being handed out, we can’t rule out the possibility that pure bad luck resulted in a real one being mixed in with the others.”

“That’s right. So your statement can’t be used as evidence.”

Andy cracked a victorious grin, but Herder continued.

“However — from what I recall, Lord Andy: when you swapped the guns, you put Mr Kevin’s revolver in your breast pocket. If you were to leave it concealed in the undergrowth, there was a risk it would be found, which is why you kept it just in case. Well, if you had left my precious item on the ground like that, you would be guilty in a different sense.”

“………!”

Instantly, Andy’s face tensed up. If what Herder said was true, that meant he had another toy gun hidden on his person. That, would be physical evidence that the guns had been swapped.

Although he’d tried to proclaim his innocence, Herder’s observation left him no choice but to give up. Exasperated, Andy groaned.

“I should’ve been more careful……. Did you see through my plan from the start?”

William nodded openly.

“We specifically furnished a game that would aid you in laying a trap for Mr Kevin. In short, Lord Andy: this game was a stage to prove your malice.”

A stage to prove his malice. Upon hearing that, Kevin thought back to the “plan” Albert had spoken of at the start.

“Even without this game, you would’ve found some other way of coming for these two members of the Curtis family, now wouldn’t you?” Herder added.

“Two? So it wasn't just me they were after — but Helena too?”

Kevin looked at the girl in the distance. She still lay crumpled on the ground. He’d been worried for her safety for some time now; but for some reason, William and Herder just calmly stood where they were, with no sign of concern for her. Perhaps they had taken the rational approach, inferring that it was already too late — or maybe there was another design at work…….

For a moment, Kevin detected a sense of incongruity in their attitudes. But William spoke up, and his attention shot back to the conversation.

“Mr Kevin’s ruin, and Miss Helena’s death. The conspiracy to bring about these two ends has continued since the attack on the department store the other day.”

“Since that incident?”

“Yes: Lord Andy hired men to raid the store.”

Then, William raised two fingers.

“He had two objectives. The first, was to damage the store’s reputation by staging a disaster there.”

Kevin readily agreed with that view: ever since that catastrophe, customers had kept their distance, and he’d even been forced to close up shop as a result. As for the second objective, Helena, who’d been caught up in the incident, had given him a hint about that.

Sensing that Kevin had also come to that conclusion, William waved his fingers as he continued.

“Next, his other objective was to kill Miss Helena. In all likelihood, it was due to his involvement in her father’s disappearance — in fact, she holds an important piece of information regarding that case.”

“Eh!?”

Yet again, an astonishing fact had been brought to light, and Kevin found himself sinking deeper and deeper into confusion.

“That case…… Lord Andy was involved? What’s more, Helena knew?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Do you really think I did all that?”

Again, Andy’s face turned red with rage, but William paid him no mind.

“From the time he first met you and your business partner, Lord Andy wanted to destroy you both, and take away your profits if he could. He first set his sights on Helena’s father; Lord Andy probably thought that if he were to vanish, then you, Mr Kevin, would also withdraw from the scene due to your timidity. However, you took him by surprise when you resolved to continue the business. Hence, in order to bring about your ruin with certainty, Lord Andy resorted to this act of violence.”

“Shut your gob! You’ve just been saying whatever you pleased! This is nothing more than speculation! If you’re going to spout all this nonsense, then bring out the evidence!”

Andy stamped his feet as he yelled.

Certainly, as he’d protested, they had no way of presenting evidence for this missing person’s case — because the girl who was supposed to be their key witness, had had her life cut short right over there.

However, William glanced at the fallen girl, and spoke in a serene voice.

“Understood. Well then, let us have her make her entrance.”

[tsarisfanfiction]

Libel

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort Characters: Scott, John

Words are powerful weapons.  It doesn’t matter how popular you are when the rumour mill turns against you.

Day three “Sticks and stones may break my bones but...” of @whumptober-archive and we’re using the prompts insults and “Who did this to you?” today.  Romantic trouble ahead, with cheating and nasty false accusations.

Scott slouched against the wall, feeling the cool but rough texture of the bricks pressing against the bare skin of his arms.  The day had been hell from beginning to end, and now he just wanted to go home, but it was a Tuesday and Tuesdays were special.

On a Wednesday and Thursday, he had to leave school the moment class let out to pick up Alan from daycare, because Grandma had her own commitments that she couldn’t reschedule and Dad was always too busy with work.  On Mondays and Fridays, John stayed behind for extra classes, so Scott would go home alone – or hang out with friends, or-

Well.

On Tuesdays, John had no extra classes, Grandma was free to pick up Alan, and Scott’s schedule was clear, so they made a point of going home together.  It was a routine they’d settled into almost immediately, and Scott enjoyed the quiet time with just his immediate brother before they returned to the chaos that was the rest of their family.

John’s last class was the far end of the campus from the gates, so Scott always made it to the meeting point first by a few minutes.  Sometimes several, if the quiet ginger got caught up talking to a teacher about an assignment, which happened more often than not.  Today, he’d been waiting for five, and there was yet to be a sign of him.

Today had been rotten. Scott didn’t want to still be on campus, conscious of all the eyes boring into him as his year mates moved past in packs.  None of their gazes were friendly; several were outright hostile, and he pressed back a little further into the wall of the math block in a vain attempt to escape.

His phone was in his hand, a message typed out by trembling fingers and waiting to be sent.

Sorry, something came up. I’ll see you at home.

A thumb hovered over the send key.  All it had to do was descend and then he could slip away from the hoards and their accusing eyes.  Escape from school and hide out in the woods for a while to try and come to terms with exactly what had happened before slinking home in time for dinner.

It would spare him John’s reaction for a little while longer, too.

But while John never said it in so many words, Scott knew that he looked forwards to their once-a-week walk home, too.  He’d be disappointed if Scott bailed on him – and confused, because Scott hadn’t bailed on him once all year, despite occasional social invites.  With four brothers, one-on-one time with any of them was precious, and Scott was always at loath to give it up.

“Sorry I’m late.” John was talking even before he rounded the corner to their meeting place, and Scott dropped the phone back into his pocket, unsent message still taking up the screen.  He hadn’t decided in time, or maybe he subconsciously just wanted to get the judgement over with.  “Mr Kemp-”

Scott looked up as his brother’s voice cut off, unable to muster even a faint grin at the sight of him. Turquoise eyes were wide with horror as John stared, whatever Mr Kemp had said or done immediately forgotten.

“Hey, John,” he greeted. His voice fell flat even to his own ears, and he watched as John stashed the tablet perpetually in his hand into his messenger bag before he hurried the last few paces towards him.

A pale hand rose up and lingered in front of his face, not quite touching as it traced something on his skin.  The black eye that had swollen his left eye almost shut, probably.

“Who did this to you?” His voice was glacier cold, and barely above a whisper.  It was less a question and more a demand – a copy of Scott’s own attitude whenever he found out someone was hurting his brothers.

John always was observant.

“It doesn’t matter.” It wasn’t a story Scott wanted to tell to anyone, and if it hadn’t spread far enough through the school to reach John’s ears during the day, then he wasn’t about to provide a second wind. “Let’s get out of here.”  He pushed off from the brick wall, gallantly ignoring the screaming protests of his battered body at the idea of moving.

Scott was pretty sure there was nothing serious, it just hurt and no doubt his skin was varying shades of bruised.

“Scott,” John warned, but he didn’t try to stop him.  Maybe he knew that Scott needed to get out – then again, Scott suspected that he was broadcasting that painfully loudly to his brother.

They left the safety of their meeting point and joined the throng headed for the gate.

“Bastard.”  It wasn’t clear where the word came from, but it was from somewhere in the masses of teenagers they were forging through.

“Creep.”

“Sick.”

“Filthy.”

“Slut.”

Each word, each insult, crashed into him and suffocated him a little more.  It hurt, pain adding onto the pain that had started it all in the first place – hurt more than his physical wounds, an almost-negligible throbbing that would probably make its presence known sharply once the haze of disbelief and emotional impact faded.

Beside him, John seemed to stand a little straighter, a little taller in a reversal of their usual stances, where the ginger was the one that tended to aim for invisibility and Scott was the one that strode ahead purposefully.  He cut a swathe through the milling, jeering crowds, forcing a path to open up for them.  If Scott could look anywhere other than the stained, chewing-gum riddled tarmac, he suspected he might find that John’s face was thunderous enough to cut through even the upperclassmen he usually ignored.

He was jostled suddenly, someone crashing into his shoulder hard enough to drive him staggering into John, and the cacophony of noise continued as he stumbled back upright with his brother’s hand now lightly holding his arm.  In his periphery, he saw John pluck his own phone out of his bag. For a moment his brother did nothing about whatever was on the screen, but then he was tapping out a message Scott couldn’t read before sliding his phone away again.

His other hand didn’t leave Scott’s arm.  Not when they reached the gate, and Scott stumbled over a stray ankle suddenly in his path, or when they passed it and a moped sped past close enough that he could hear the rider’s snarled insults over the roaring engine.

Not even when he diverted from their route home all of a sudden, nudging Scott down a narrow alley that led towards the woods, losing the crowds and replacing them with large, old trees packed closely enough together that the casual observer couldn’t see between them.

It was Scott’s favourite place to retreat when he needed his own space, and John – unsurprisingly – knew that.

“Scott, what happened?” John drew them to a halt under the reaching arms of a particularly large tree, branches thick and low and almost forming a cavern of brown and green.

He shook his head, not sure he could trust his voice not to betray him.  The soft fingers left his arm, and John moved to stand directly in front of him.  Scott looked at the ground, littered with broken twigs and the occasional fallen leaf, rather than meet his eyes.

He should’ve known better than to hope John would leave it alone.

“Something happened with Christie.”

It was too confident to be a guess, but that was John all over, putting the facts together and reaching the logical conclusions.

Scott sank down to the ground, his bag landing heavily beside him.  John followed more gracefully, crouching in front of him.

“Did she dump you?”

The noise that forced its way out of Scott’s throat was best described as strangled laughter, driven by despair rather than humour.  “No.” The word cracked in half.

Morning recess, leaving the cafeteria with her favourite chocolate in hand as a surprise. Rounding a corner into the locker corridor.  Christie with her tongue down another boy’s throat, top riding up indecently high with the guy’s hand clearly snaking inside her bra.

Heartbreak.

“I ended it.”

His brother inhaled sharply. “What did she do?”

What didn’t she do?  Breaking his heart was just the start; he was popular, but so was she, and the person who cried out that they were a victim first was almost always the one believed.

Popularity meant nothing against the rumour mill, and something Scott had never realised was how good an actress Christie was.  While he’d spent the rest of recess hidden away, choking out tears of betrayal and shock, she’d-

He didn’t even know why she’d done it.  It felt like a revenge tactic, but Scott had no idea what she was avenging, why she was suddenly so determined to ruin him.

Coming back to class, eyes still stinging, to find metaphorical daggers pressed to his throat by every student in the room, had been a shock.  Christie had been sobbing into the chest of Peter, a boy Scott normally got on with fine but suddenly looked like he wanted nothing better than to murder him where he stood.

It wasn’t until lunch time that he found out what she’d told everyone, letting the story spread like wildfire across their year group until Scott was the scum of the earth in the eyes of everyone.

She’d dumped him, the rumour mill said even though Scott knew for certain that he’d been the one to tell her we’re over while fighting back tears.  The chocolates had fallen to the floor and he had the stain on one sneaker to prove he’d accidentally stepped on them, too.  She’d dumped him, she’d claimed amongst floods of tears and ruined makeup, for pushing too far, for ignoring her boundaries, for taking more than she was willing to give.

They’d never even got as far as she had with the random guy he didn’t know in the corridor.

“I- I can’t,” he choked out, tears spilling out and stinging his cheeks as they slid down.  He swiped at them, trying in vain to hide them from the little brother regarding him with an ever-growing fury he knew wasn’t aimed at him.

“Tell me who beat you,” John insisted, thankfully changing tack although Scott knew the topic of Christie was only temporarily shelved.  “Did you see the nurse?”

Christie had two brothers, twins in their final year and both demons on the football pitch.  They’d always been reasonably chill towards Scott, at least much as older brothers would be, but just like any decent big brothers, took the distress of younger siblings very seriously.

They also had several friends who likewise adored sweet, charming Christie.

Even if he wasn’t still reeling from finding his now-ex girlfriend shacking up with another guy, Scott would never have stood a chance against the pack of upperclassmen. Stunned by the accusations hurtled his way, he’d been easy pickings.

He shook his head.

“Scott…”  John swallowed and slender fingers brushed against the side of his face, where he was no doubt a deep purple from the fist that had crashed into it.  “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but if that crowd at the gate were anything to go buy, it’s only a matter of time before the whole school hears something. I can’t help if I don’t know what we’re up against.”

“We?”  The word slipped out without permission, a startle against his brother’s proclamation.  “No- John- This-”

“They hurt you.”  John’s voice was laced with stubborn steel.  “I doubt Grandma’s going to let you out of her sight for the rest of the week at least.  Talk to me, Scott.”

He shook his head.  The tears kept flowing, periodically yanking sobs from his throat; each one had him hunching over further, coiled across his tender abdomen as he continued wiping away the salty liquid to no avail.

John edged closer, slender hands gripping his shoulders lightly.  “I’m here,” he promised.  “I’m here, and I’m not letting them hurt you again.”

It shouldn’t be a younger brother reassuring an elder – that went against the rules engrained deep within him – but John was exuding confidence and protectiveness in a way that was reassuring.  After a day of being destroyed both emotionally and literally, the tattered remains of Scott’s psyche found themselves clinging to every word and gesture.

It was enough to, haltingly, summarise the story.  No details, no explanations, just a shaking recounting of how she’d cheated on him, how she’d fuelled the rumour mill, how her brothers had reacted.

The hug his brother pulled him into, gentle and warm but firm and protective, promised safety and love. Promised that John believed him, a fear he hadn’t even realised was lurking until it was dismissed.

"You’re not going in tomorrow,” John told him.  “Not with these injuries, and not with that mob.  Grandma will back me up on that.”

Scott wanted to protest, but even the thought of walking back into school again, with the hissed words following him and aura of menace honing in on him, was enough to have his heartrate picking up like a rabbit’s.  He said nothing.

John didn’t need him to, and the two of them sat in near-silence, wind rustling the leaves and tears dripping from his eyes onto his brother’s shoulder.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that as his tear ducts ran dry and eyes transformed into crusty, stinging messes.  Eventually, John pulled back slightly.

“Ready to go home?” his brother asked.

No.  No, Scott was not ready to go home and face his family looking like this, but he didn’t have a choice.  They’d find out sooner rather than later, and the longer he and John took to get back, the more Grandma would worry.

She was probably already frantic, he realised as his vision focused enough to register that dusk was hitting.  They must have missed dinner.

“Don’t worry.”  John pulled out his phone.  “I told Grandma we’d be back late.”  Scott caught a glimpse of Scott’s upset, we’ll be back late, and an answering I’ll save you some dinner, don’t stay out too long, amongst several messages of concern from her in the interim.  The timestamps were from just after he’d met up with John after school – long before he’d started talking to his brother.

He blinked.  That didn’t make sense.  How did John know?  Actually, how had John known that he needed to come here, and not home?

The phone disappeared back into John’s bag, but not before Scott spotted his name high up in the message list.  Too high, considering he hadn’t sent him a message in days.

He fished his own phone out of his pocket and glanced down at it.  Notifications of messages from half his classmates sprung up everywhere, the message previews full of nothing nice, but that wasn’t what caught his attention.

Sorry, something came up. I’ll see you at home, the screen said, the same text he’d composed while considering ditching John and running.  The same text he knew he’d never actually sent.

It was on read.

A split-second memory of being jostled while passing through the gate flashed through his mind.

“Thanks for deciding to wait for me after all.”  John plucked the device from his fingers, and scowled down at the screen.  “I’m holding onto this for a while.”

Scott didn’t bother arguing, even though he knew full well that John would be collecting as much data as he possibly could from every single threatening message and probably had less than friendly intentions for doing so.  He was just too drained to do anything about it, and now that he’d exposed the situation onto his brother, it almost felt like a relief to let someone else handle things for a while.

“Ready to go home?” John asked him again.

Home meant worried family and an inordinate amount of fussing over the injuries he had.  Home meant burnt dinner leftovers because it had been his turn to cook.  Home meant more questions to field when he just wanted to bury his head in his pillow and pretend the day hadn’t happened.

Home meant a family who would believe his side of the story.  Home meant unconditional love and support.

Home meant safety.

He nodded and let John guide him back to his feet, his brother keeping a supporting arm around him even once he was vertical.

Home sounded like the best place to be.

[industriallyinsecure]

How would yandere La Squadra go about their darling being extremely paranoid... maybe even an abduction survivor? Like, they won't drink or eat anything that's not sealed or prepared by them, they won't go anywhere without telling a loved one or friend where they are and where they're going. They only use their own car or commute with ppl they are close with, their door has several locks and bolts, the windows have special locks and they have a hidden weapon on their body and know how to use it.

I apologize for the long wait!

Sorbet and Gelato don’t care. Gelato is audacious enough to keep testing your boundaries by inserting himself into your life as mere coincidences. Sorbet is the only one keeping you safe, in a strange way. He constantly has to talk Gelato down with kisses and promises of taking you soon. Even if you pulled a weapon on them, there’s two of them. Your odds wouldn’t even be that great with just one of them pursuing you. The only problem is orchestrating the whole ordeal just right. With the constant paper trail you left, it would be difficult to just snatch you up and make you disappear off the face of the earth so suddenly. They have to strike in the golden hour, which, much to Gelato’s displeasure, means they have to leave you alone. When you stop frantically updating your friends and family, Gelato kicks in your door and Sorbet restrains you. Of course, when you wake up in an unfamiliar place with two men sandwiching you, the carefully crafted walls you put up to protect yourself from your past abduction come crumbling down. Gelato feels the tiniest bit remorseful and tries to kiss it better, but nothing works and they end up having to knock you out. Sorbet scolds Gelato for his hastiness while they cuddle on the chair across from the bed where your sleeping body whimpered and twitched. It would take some time to help you rebuild from your trauma, but the Milk and Milkless Dessert couple weren’t known for giving up easily.

Risotto is the same way. It’s part of the reason he was drawn to you. After researching about a hit and discovering they had kidnapped and held someone for ransom unsuccessfully, he felt it necessary to check in on the victim to see if there were any connections between them and Passione. More accurately, to see if the victim would cause any problems for Passione. When he first seeks you out, he’s not surprised about your demeanor. But something about your mouselike timidness drew him in. He knows he has to measure his steps carefully if he wants to get close. There’s a lot of methodical planning involved to make sure he doesn’t accidentally scare you off. He attempts to insert himself in your life subtly, appearing in places you go but not engaging you. When he was finally bold enough to seek you out in your own home, he finally saw the extent of your trauma. Metallica made it easy to bypass the many locks on the door, but it was a chore to do. Finding you waiting behind the door with a gun drawn was certainly a surprise, though. Seeing your perpetual eyebags and frowning features so frightened made his heart ache. It’s too bad you were close enough for Metallica to work. He’s positive you would’ve put up a good fight. But for now he’s focused on getting you tucked in. There was no reason to whisk you away when it was clear you were smart enough to be scared of the world outside.

Ghiaccio always has to be in the right, no matter the situation. He doesn’t care that you have trauma that makes your day to day hell or that his constant presence makes you wary and weary. His needs and desires come first at the cost of your comfort. He only compromises on his yelling when he notices he makes you flinch. Other than that, he’ll pester you nonstop. It’s a mystery how he is always where you are without fail. At a certain point, you refuse to leave your home because of it. Ghiaccio isn’t understanding of this and nearly breaks down your door and sends you into a panic attack. Seeing you scream and shield yourself with your arms makes him hesitate. What breaks him is when you plead for him to leave you alone and to not hurt you. It’s a rare moment of clarity in his obsession addled mind and he tries his best to calm you down, even though his touch makes you flinch away. In the middle of his attempt to soothe you, he ends up covering you in frost. The effects of White Album make your reactions sluggish and weak, but you have plenty of time to consider how you got here as he hefts you over his shoulder and buckles you into the passenger’s seat, wrapping the seatbelt around you several times.

Melone honestly has an Obsession of the Week™️, which more than half the time is just for scientific purposes. He likes to psychoanalyze random people he sees, just for funsies. You, on the other hand, were far too interesting to just dissect mentally and move on. He tuned in when you asked for a drink that was from an unopened case of products, and his interest only heightened when he saw you take a very calculated path through the lounge area. He noted you made sure to move in the blind spots of the windows and cameras before nestling safely in a corner where you could see the whole room, all the while peeking over your shoulder. At first, he thought OCD or some other disorder. It made sense, but he watched you timidly flick your eyes around as you uncapped your drink , sniffed it, and took a tentative sip. Melone is already mentally logging this information, creating trials and assessing variables as you sip away at your beverage. Of course when he went to pursue you after you left, he didn’t expect for you to pull a knife on him and threaten him with wide eyes to stay away. The reasons you gave were conjecture, though. He could see that you weren’t quite sure of your choice to confront him, the minuscule shaking of your hand only proving it. It’s laughably easy for him to disarm you, even if his thievery skills have gotten rusty from his transition from petty thief into assassin. After his civil approach, by his own standards, you're toted off to a nearby safe house where he could keep you while he arranges for your accommodations elsewhere.

This is a problem for Prosciutto. He and Formaggio are the most social creatures of La Squadra (Melone is well… social in a different way). Prosciutto loves to be seen. He likes going to the opera, to have someone on his arm dressed almost as finely as he was, to go to art auctions, to go out to a restaurant where the prices were high and the portions low. So your paranoid personality, while understandable, poses a problem for the fantasy he made within five minutes of seeing you shuffle around the market in what he would describe as “bum clothes” (aka sweatpants and a baggy shirt). He notes that every step you take is deliberate, every move calculated and determined beforehand. With his years of stealth training, he trails you for a while to fully observe you. One thing that stuck out to him was that you were always in public places, among crowds with just enough people that you would be missed if you were swept off your feet by a dashing blond in a finely pressed suit. Prosciutto is a fixer. He lives to nitpick and improve and fix everyone he cares for, and you are no different. Soon you’ll find yourself in the company of the handsome blond you’ve seen around town, whether you like it or not. He takes it upon himself to interject and speak over you when it comes to certain things, stating how you should’ve handled a situation. Your paranoia is soon taken advantage of, with Prosciutto feeding into it by isolating you and forcing you to depend on him. Not that he minds. He loves to help people improve. On his terms, of course.

Illuso takes it as a challenge. He’s very reserved as well, and when he observed you for his own interest, it was kismet. Illuso is great at playing the long game and letting his opponent’s psyche get the best of them. With your ‘weakened’ mind, he could play around with you as much as he liked. Tapping on your (barred)window, the mirror, moving stuff. Your own personal curator of hell. He never once feels bad, but he wondered why he didn’t stop playing poltergeist after his usual week or so. Soon he found himself just…staring at your permanently furrowed brow and frowning lips. Maybe if he isolated you in a place where he knew there wouldn’t be anyone, he could get something out of you? Secretly pulls you into the mirror world and observes you. He lets you sit in the comfort of assured solitude before making his grand entrance. Of course he didn’t expect to get punched in the gut and to have a knife pulled on him. He might boast that Man in the Mirror is the strongest stand, but stands are pretty much useless when you’re taken by surprise by someone you underestimated. For a moment, he can’t decide if this makes him like you a lot more, or if you deserve a kick to the gut. Maybe both.

Formaggio firmly believes in the ideology of “take no shit, give no fucks”. He may be social, but he’s not exactly socially intelligent. Case in point, he didn’t understand that his social butterfly-ness might be a huge turn off for some people. So he’s pretty much at a loss for what to do. His previous flings loved it, but you, well, you wanted nothing to do with him in any capacity. Formaggio was supposed to have been scouting his hit, but he was mostly checking out the Milfs, Dilfs, and Pilfs (parent) that passed. And when his gaze finally fell on you, sitting by yourself, he had to swoop in. Similar to how he reacts to Narancia, he’s very affable when you pull your weapon on him and threaten him with very serious eyes, even joking with you playfully when you ask him what he thinks he’s doing. I love him dearly, but Formaggio is a dumb man. He can’t read social cues and probably just thinks you’re playing hard to get when in reality you have trauma. But since he hides all his trauma and self hatred behind jokes, it takes him a while to fully realize that you’re broken. And what do you do with broken things? Why, stick them in a doll house and provide for them, of course!

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

Jan :) Fluff with 11) for Atsumu 🥺 written format is cool .It would be nice if y/n would say the dialogue, please don't include anything about mental health issues.

:) Thank you -☄️

Do not fall in love with Miya Atsumu. You cannot fall in love with Miya Atsumu. No, you should not fall in love with Miya Atsumu. The warnings attached to the blonde MSBY setter were sewn into your memory, and at the start, the stitches were impenetrable. He was merely your roommate, someone you shared housing with – a friend at best.

You would not fall in love with Miya Atsumu.

Not when he smiles at you with a warmth that swells your heart. Not when he shows up at your workplace spontaneously with your favourite takeout in hand. Certainly not when he drapes a blanket over you when you accidentally fall asleep on the couch again.

But how can you not fall in love – when those stitches you were desperately clinging to, were slowly coming undone.

Before you did not bat an eyelash when he would stumble into the apartment after a night out with his friends. But last week, you caught a whiff of an unknown scent on his jacket and your chest was instantly seized by the ribbons of heartache. It should have not hurt – but it did. So, the following day, you found yourself on a dating app, swiping through numerous faces, hoping one will replace the smiling setter stuck in your head.

You need to reinforce the thread by any means possible, and so you begin by instilling space. Six days later, your path had only crossed with his twice – two accidental meetings. Once, at midnight when you were 100% positive, he was asleep. You were midway into your bowl of cereal when he emerged from his bedroom with his blonde strands pointing out in various directions. His fingers sought to tame the mop of hair as he softly asked if he could join you. Refusing him proved fruitless, and you ended up talking for an hour, before excusing yourself. If you weren’t mumbling curses under your breath at your “moment of weakness”, you would have heard his parting words – I miss you. 

The second meeting occurred when you were on your way out of the apartment to complete a chore. Just as you entered the hallway, you came face to face with the one you were aiming to avoid. In effort to keep the conversation short, you quickly explained that you had to leave. But before you could reach the safety of the elevator, he reminded you to be safe, and the concern weaved into his words only amplified the emptiness you were wrestling with, depriving you of your resolve to maintain the distance.

The plan was to surprise him with a tasty treat, one that you had specially ordered from his favourite bakery. When you received the notification to meet the carrier downstairs, you slipped into a comfortable outfit then fetched your keys. However, before you could exit the apartment, Atsumu caught your wrist. An inquisitive expression crossed your features as you turned around to face your roommate.

“‘Tsumu?”  

“I don’t want ya to go.” The explanation was exhaled with an absence of confidence, instead the words were infused with a disguised passion he was failing to suppress. “I don’t want ya to go on your date.” A small pout formed on his mouth, and if only you had his permission, you would have kissed it away. “I saw yer calendar…”

Your calendar? Squinting at the taller male, you tried to process and pinpoint what exactly he was misinterpreting.

“We are not on the same page right now, are we?” Shaking your head, your eyes fixed on his weakening grip. Under other circumstances the contact would have bloomed the buds of hope residing inside of your garden of adoration. But right now, your curiosity had overwhelmed your desires. “I’m pretty sure I wrote dates, not date.”

“Yer goin’ on multiple!?” A concoction of emotions danced in his widened eyes as his mouth slightly fell open.

“‘Tsumu. Come with me.” Exhaling out a gentle titter, you gently weaved your fingers through his. You should not be holding his hand – but the threads are frail and seconds from breaking now.

“Are we goin’ outside?” The blood rushing to his cheeks coloured his skin, as a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

“No, just wait.”

He followed close behind you, as you led him through the hallway. Once you entered the confines of the elevator, you stood side by side, soundlessly. It was extremely difficult not to notice how perfectly his hand fit with yours, or how the pads of his fingers lightly caressed your skin. Neither of you sought to eliminate the silence, not until you reached the lobby.

“Oh. Hello, are you Miss L/N?” The uniformed male read out the name printed on the package, then waited for confirmation. Beside you, the MSBY setter had his eyebrows furrowed, but some of his panic had faltered.

“Yeah. Hi.” A half smile was presented towards the postal worker, who handed you the source of the misunderstanding. 

“Perfect. Here are the chocolate covered dates you ordered.”

Once the male disclosed the contents of the box, you allowed your y/e/c irises to drift in the blonde’s direction. With the reality of the situation clicking into place, relief led Atsumu to release his partially scrunched-up features. 

“I was gonna have a heart attack.” Atsumu smacked a palm against his forehead, prompting your eyebrows to curve in amusement.

“I bought these for you, since you mentioned you liked the ones you had at Bokuto’s party. I wasn’t going on a date. Not that it should matter.” You strived to remain calm, feigning indifference. But his hand was still linked with yours, and you were practically suffocating from the flowers of hope sprouting inside of your lungs.

“What do ya mean? I… don’t want ya goin’ out with someone else!” Disbelief struck him visually but there were also slivers of insecurity in his eyes. “I was scared that I did something to ya, since you’ve been avoidin’ me. Then I saw yer calendar…”

“This may have not been a real date, but I will see someone eventually you know.” No longer able to maintain eye contact, you averted your attention to the box within your grasp.

Eventually was the key word – would you ever love someone more than you love him?

“Yeah. Yer gonna be seeing me.” The scoff accompanying his words showcased his genuine bewilderment. Yet you pushed on anyway.

“‘Tsumu. We’re just roommates.”

“No, we’re not. If we were only roommates, I wouldn’t be thinkin’ about ya every second of the day. I wouldn’t be wantin’ to be kissin’ your lips. And I know ya feel the same way too. No one has ever stayed with me for this long, and this.” A small gesture was administered towards the box of dates. “Ya wouldn’t go out of your way for someone unless they were more than a roommate.”

Instinctively your gaze returned to his, and immediately you scanned his face for any indication of deceit. 

Was this really happening? 

“…I’m not supposed to fall in love with you.” You pathetically admitted, which only drew out a chuckle from him. 

“Yeah, well ya already did.”

Within seconds his mouth descended onto yours, while his freehand supported your neck. The kiss applied to your lips was far from gentle, a mere consequence of having suppressed his feelings for numerous months. He kept you pressed against him for a minute, not minding those who walked by. You would have been thoroughly embarrassed if you weren’t drowning in joy. 

So yes. You fell in love with Miya Atsumu, but turns out, he fell in love with you too.

A/N: I am sorry this took 5ever!! I hope you liked this! <3 I wrote it slightly differently from my other stuff, but I’d like to think its okay-ish ahah 

General taglist:  @haikyuufairy @newfriendjen @lvoejimin @moonlightaangel @gyozaaaaa @byun-nies @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @amberalisa @graykageyama @yourstarvic @chaichai-the-weeb @chibishae34 @haikyuusimp91 @volleybloop  @rajablast @idiot-juice-enthusiast @melonmayhere @cuddlesslut  @athenarosaline @memes-and-money @coconut-dreamz   @elianetsantana @tsumume @tsukkismamagucci @the-golden-jhope @camcam1617 @ivsahi @prettyforpapiiwa @swoonhui @neobakas  @elephantloser @dreamstormings @rintarawr @anejuuuuoy   @thatthangwasthangin

[renegadewangs]

Van Zieks - the Examination, part 2

Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).

Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I'm outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I've missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly.  -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I'm using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what's said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn't matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.

It’s time to take a close look at Episode 3, The Runaway Room!

Episode 3: The Runaway Room.

We're skipping the first two cases, as they have no relevance to Barok van Zieks, and starting off here.

So Ryu is tossed into the deep. The Lord Chief Justice tells him that he’s basically the defendant’s only hope; if he doesn’t at least try to fight in court, McGilded will lose the trial and die for sure. (HAH… Good one, Stronghart.) So Ryu falls for this would-be motivational speech and heads for the courthouse where he finds out why McGilded doesn’t have a defense attorney to begin with; it’s because of the prosecution. No one dares to go up against Lord Barok van Zieks, also known as the Reaper of the Old Bailey, because all who he prosecutes are damned. This should sound familiar to anyone who’s played an Ace Attorney game before. ‘The prosecution has never been defeated before’ is the implication, which would initially lead us to believe Van Zieks is another one of those prodigies. Sure enough, Susato points out he must be very talented, to which McGilded replies that Van Zieks is not talented, rather, he’s cursed. This sets the mood even further. With words like “Reaper” and “curse” being tossed around, we’re sooner reminded of a prosecutor like Simon Blackquill, who was a convicted murderer wielding psychological manipulation techniques. Either way, with the grim atmosphere set, Ryu is ushered into the courtroom before he can ask any more questions.

As a sidenote, McGilded really scored some negative points with this remark:

Feels a bit softened compared to how fan translations tackled that line, but a nasty jab all the same.

So anyway, entering the courtroom we get our first look at Van Zieks and if the foreshadowing in the Defendant Antechamber wasn’t already bad enough, he honors his eerie reputation.

So far, he’s meeting the requirements then. He’s intimidating and as a wealthy white man, he’s perfectly juxtaposed to Ryu, the rookie from another country. Meanwhile, the first micro-aggression of this trial is actually uttered by the judge:

Which also makes narrative sense. Ryu’s more practical goal isn’t to win the prosecution’s trust. Heck, he could get through any trial just fine with Van Zieks’s dislike. No, what he needs is to win over the judge and the members of the jury. For them to also hold prejudice but put that aside in order to side with the truth is another important end-game here. So let’s continue. Van Zieks also has something to say here:

Initially, the remark about Ryu’s eyes might read as a typical racist jab towards someone from the East, but he is in fact referring to the way Ryu’s eyes are ‘swimming’ when he’s nervous, as evidenced by the next lines. “They shroud your fear, your doubt, your trepidation… They run wild, clinging to some phantom notion of courage.” Van Zieks is saying that while Ryu puts up a brave front, his swimming eyes betray just how nervous and unsure of his cause he really is. So really, he’s targeting the fact that Ryu is new to the courts. He did, however, make a point of tossing the word “Nipponese” in there when he didn’t need to, drawing attention to Ryu’s race in a derogatory fashion.

After the jurors are introduced, something else of interest happens. The judge points out that Van Zieks hasn’t been seen in the courtroom in a number of years. The judge had assumed that Van Zieks had renounced his fame, to which he replies with the following:

This is a very telling line. We learn several things. Firstly, Van Zieks had retired, and secondly, he doesn’t seem to think too highly of his title of Reaper. If he did, he would have gloated. To describe his reputation as infamy implies negative associations with this ‘curse’ that McGilded spoke of. Putting these two things together, one might conclude he retired because of this curse. When asked why he’s returned to the courts, he says that he’ll leave that to the judge’s imagination. So there’s hints of a backstory already being tossed in before the trial’s even properly kicked off.

Which it does now. So the opening statement happens as always and witnesses are brought in, but once it’s done Ryu interjects to say that he doesn’t understand the circumstances. ‘How could the witnesses have seen the inside of a moving carriage’? It shocks the entire courtroom and Van Zieks is the one to speak:

“-But you’re here in London yourself. Are you really so ignorant about our omnibuses? Tell me, my Nipponese friend… Have you even travelled in an omnibus?”

I have to be honest, I struggled to pinpoint just how I felt about these remarks. Sure, I can overanalyze this, looking at how the words “I’d read-” imply he doesn’t know the following sentiment to be true and therefore doesn’t feel confident enough to say something like “I knew-”... But it doesn’t change that he’s being scummy here. In a roundabout way, he’s still saying Japan is far less civilised than Britain and that Ryu is extra ignorant for not knowing about omnibuses when he’s in London. So basically, he gets scumbag points for this. But then there’s…:

Which is just a basic jab at Ryu’s intelligence. It’s the sort of remark we’d get from every single prosecutor. I think even Klavier would say this sort of line with a smile on his face.

But definitely more scumbag points here, because this was a direct attack in more ways than one. Particularly the word “stray” was uncalled for. CEO of Racism, indeed. Something very interesting happens when the knife gets pulled into the story halfway into the first cross-examination, though. When Ryu asks about it, Van Zieks replies with this:

He’s… actually being civil? (I doublechecked with Scarlet Study, and they are in agreement on the timid nature of this line, translating “yes, Counsel” as “Quite so”.) Instead, Van Zieks turns his attention to the fact that there’s an M on the sheath, directing all his offensive attitude towards McGilded. It gets even more curious when the last juror refuses to cast a guilty verdict, instead talking about what a good man she believes McGilded to be. Van Zieks says:

So he’s not only frustrated with McGilded now, he’s frustrated with the people of London for not knowing what sort of person McGilded really is. Van Zieks reveals he’s a dirty money lender who gained his fortune through corrupt means. He even takes the time to inform Ryu of this with the words “Your client is a shylock, sir!” Edit: I feel a need to address this: shylock is a word with antisemitic roots. It originally came from a Shakespeare play involving a very bad stereotype. It later evolved to have a more broad meaning basically synonymous to loan shark and I think that’s the context the localization means to use it in. There’s absolutely no indication of McGilded’s religious beliefs and even if there were, I highly doubt the localization would use that sort of slur. Still, it’s a very unfortunate choice of words and is sure to accidentally sour Van Zieks even more with some players.

With that, the last juror votes, the scale tips towards Guilty and Van Zieks assumes the trial to be over. He thanks the jurors for their work. Unfortunately, once Susato brings up the Summation Examination, Van Zieks gets very frustrated again. This happens:

IIII don’t know what to do with this line. On first glance, I didn’t think much of it and was even willing to consider it was a compliment. Then I thought it must’ve been passive aggressive somehow; that it’s the sort of thing he wouldn’t believe until he’d seen it with his own eyes. A friend directed me to the notion that it might be referencing a stereotype that ‘Eastern women are fierce’ because they were associated with, well, certain ‘paid services’. I don’t think I need to explain, I’m sure you understand what I mean. And if indeed that’s what Barok is insinuating, that’s a new low I never thought he’d reach. However, when you’ve finished the games and know that Barok was friends with a married Japanese man, it’s entirely possible that he’s remembering a story once told to him by Genshin Asogi. So this is either a bittersweet reminiscence or the most scumbag association he ever could’ve made, but I’m not sure we can ever prove which it is. Edit: As another option, it’s possible he’s referring to the Yamato Nadeshiko stereotype, if indeed it already held the ‘touch of iron’ aspect to it back in 1900. He proceeds to toast his hallowed chalice to “the enigmatic East” and to be honest, I’ve once again got nothing. All I know is that he once again drew attention to the defense’s race when he didn’t need to, so… Scumbag point. As a sidenote, in regards to the wine… I don’t count this as a humanizing trait. The same applies to the leg slam. These are animations meant to add some more lighthearted air and breathe more life into Van Zieks, so he doesn’t just stand there like a statue. They’re just quirks meant to have him stand out from other characters. So yeah, fun as the wine and leg slam animations are, they don’t count in the redemption requirements. Anyway, Van Zieks mocks the age of Susato’s book, saying that judging by its bindings it must be fifty years old. Considering the context of the conversation, this isn’t out of bounds. The defense is using ‘outdated’ information on the law, so he points that out. Any prosecutor would’ve done it like this. Simon Blackquill likely would’ve offered to shred that outdated tome to bits for Susato. Van Zieks does toss in a “Hmph, typical Nipponese” later though, which earns him one more scumbag point. Van Zieks continues to dismiss the Summation Examination, but the judge overrules him and allows it. Law is law, after all! And this is what I meant in my previous post when I said it’s satisfying to see Ryu use actual British law against Van Zieks. Ryu is using a perfectly legitimate technique to win the jurors over, and as Susato tells him, he can only do it by turning the jurors against one another with facts. He can’t appeal to them, he can only have them see sense. Which is difficult, because some jurors are more prejudiced than others:

… Yeah. Uh. Calling Ryu a “Dark Jinx” is pretty awful. Scumbag points for Juror No. 1! Meanwhile, Juror No. 4 keeps us updated on Barok’s actions throughout this trial:

Wow. Typical prosecutor behavior, though. Regardless, Ryu manages to win them all over in the end. With enough of the scales set back to not-guilty, the trial is allowed to continue, which leads to this:

Bye, hallowed chalice. A fun animation to keep things fresh and show us that the trial is about to take a turn. Once again, nothing new. We’ve seen prosecutors lose their patience before. What does interest me, though, is that Barok doesn’t direct physical frustration towards the defense. Remember: Franziska snaps a whip at Phoenix, Godot throws coffee at his head, Blackquill sends a hawk to attack the defense or uses that aijutsu slicing move, Nahyuta throws restricting beads… These were all direct physical attacks. Van Zieks, much like Edgeworth and Klavier, directs his frustration more inward and as a result he destroys his own property.

He succeeds in intimidating Ryu, though. Van Zieks explains that he kept silent, as is the norm during Examination Summation, but makes it clear that he considers it a charade all the same.

Van Zieks has been a pretty good gentleman towards the jury up until now, speaking to them politely despite that one remark about having their head in the clouds. Now that he’s seeing them ‘buy into Ryu’s stories’, as one might describe it, he’s getting frustrated with them. Maybe he’s even frustrated they’re choosing the defense’s side over his own.

He removes his cloak, entering what he says to be the next round of their ‘battle’. More typical prosecutor behavior, this. I’m not sure there’s an underlying thought to this, other than to indicate to the audience that ‘things have gotten serious’. When the next bit of testimony is going on, I noticed something odd. Both Fairplay and Furst testify to having seen blood on McGilded’s hands, to which Van Zieks says:

“... Reported that there was no trace of blood on Mr. McGilded’s gloved hands.” So in a way, by establishing this fact, he’s helping the defense and going against what the witnesses are saying. It doesn’t help the prosecution in any way at all.

The trial continues on, with Van Zieks uttering things like “My Nipponese friend” and “my learned friend from the East” and lord knows what else… I suppose to soften the harshness of the original wording a bit and make Van Zieks just a bit less dislikable? Edit: Tumblr user @beevean​ has pointed out that “my learned friend” is an actual term used in courts of law. There’s a tradition (also employed in British courts of law) that when addressing either the court or the judge, a barrister refers to the opposing counsel using the respectful term, "my learned friend". Of course, it can be said with an air of passive aggression and pretending to be respectful to the court while shamelessly disrespecting it is something Barok has always done, so the addition of “my learned friend” to the localization text is amazingly in-character. Then of course we have:

This is both a scumbag remark and foreshadowing. Naturally, those playing the game for the first time won’t recognize it as the latter and therefore take it as nothing more than a harsh blow. Things spiral even further out of control when he starts talking about how people who claim the island nations of the Far East have a learning and culture of their own use those terms ill-advisedly. He also uses the words “artless backwater” and really, this is the low point of the trial right here when it comes to prejudice. Van Zieks is just plain lashing out with these sort of jabs.

Eventually, McGilded is dragged onto the witness stand to testify about whether or not there was another passenger aboard the omnibus. McGilded admits that there was, and Van Zieks snaps at him some more for using convenient excuses. Ryu is forgotten here for a moment. The whole smoke bomb thing happens, Van Zieks confers with McGilded and Gina in his own chambers, then the trial resumes. McGilded testifies, then Gina testifies… The jury votes not-guilty, buying into McGilded’s story about protecting a poor young pickpocket and Van Zieks loses it. He slams his heel down on the bench, pointing out that this is why he doesn’t like the jury system; because emotions are ruling where evidence and facts ought to be paramount. He points out while the cubbyhole Gina had been hiding in was empty now, it had been full of the coachman’s belongings during the police investigation. Someone tampered with the omnibus. This is where things get interesting, because Van Zieks addresses Ryu:

He’s giving Ryu the benefit of the doubt here. He’s offering an option for Ryu to be truthful about this matter. And that’s curious, because any defense attorney would naturally say what’s best for his client- or so it’s assumed. It puts Ryu in a difficult position for sure, but for some reason Van Zieks put the question forward anyway. The game responds as follows:

For the sake of argument, I attempted all three options. So when Ryu says he didn’t look, Van Zieks says: “Hm… Perhaps I credited you with too much intelligence.”

So when feigning ignorance, Van Zieks is kind of a scumbag about it. He is correct in his expectation that any attorney worth his badge would thoroughly examine the details of the evidence, but he didn’t need to be such a jerk about it. Now, when outright lying and saying it was empty, Van Zieks instead says:

The lines are very similar, which is an interesting note. It adds a feel of these responses being 'rehearsed', in a way. Just a default for him to fall back to. But the real kicker comes when Ryu tells the truth and says it wasn’t empty. Van Zieks is actually speechless at first with no more than a “...!” Clearly, he wasn’t expecting Ryu to respond like this. Everyone in court is baffled, McGilded gets angry… Van Zieks is a bit rattled now.

“Your task is to defend the man in the stand. Why would you say something to compromise his position?”

So really, it seems as if Van Zieks had only ever offered the question to Ryu with pessimistic intentions. He too had assumed there was only one answer the defense could give and was prepared for just that with his silly little wine analogies, only to be shocked when Ryu defies his expectations. Ryu confesses that he’s not entirely sure on where he stands in the matter, to which Van Zieks replies with “... Interesting.” 

So now the jury members are doubting themselves again, with some offering guilty verdicts. Van Zieks decides to honor the ‘Scales of Justice’ once more now that they’re back in his favor, like the hypocrite he is. Gina testifies, Ryu points out an inconsistency, Van Zieks takes that opportunity to turn the tables back in his favor by implying Gina is a liar… He passive aggressively thanks Ryu for saving him considerable trouble and whatnot with some more “my learned Nipponese friend” remarks in there… Ryu turns the tables once more by insisting the victim came into the omnibus through the skylight, Van Zieks demands evidence and points out that furthermore, if indeed such a thing had happened, the witnesses on the roof would’ve seen it. McGilded hops into the conversation to imply that the witnesses themselves were the killers, which sends the court into a frenzy. Both Van Zieks and the judge shift the responsibility of the accusation towards Ryu, even though he never said a word to directly accuse the witnesses. Kind of a douchey move. Barok even states that Ryu’s ‘command of the English tongue must be wanting’, since

Yeahhh, that's pretty unfair. McGilded was the one who dropped that implication. However, since the judge basically accuses Ryu of the same thing, it’s a narrative choice to warn Ryu he needs to anticipate where his reasoning will lead him. Fairplay and Furst testify, pandemonium ensues. McGilded eventually gets what he wants when it’s revealed the skylight can open and there’s blood in there. Van Zieks once again turns his attention to McGilded:

He knows McGilded is at the root of all this tomfoolery and evidence manipulation. McGilded is the real enemy here, in Van Zieks’s eyes. The conversation shows this by having Van Zieks point out that he’s well aware of McGilded’s involvement in dubious matters and that evidence is often ‘adapted’ to suit this guy’s stories. And now, once again, he turns his attention to Ryu. Once again, he’s giving the defense the benefit of the doubt:

The game gives you the illusion of choice here. If you choose to say it’s ‘out of the question’ that the evidence was tampered with, Ryu will refuse to say it out loud. If you say it’s entirely possible, Ryu will admit to that.

This is probably baffling to Van Zieks. It would’ve been so easy for Ryu to insist the tampering couldn’t have happened, but he doesn’t. The game won’t even let him. No matter what you choose, Van Zieks is clued in on the fact that Ryu doesn’t condone the deceit that McGilded is resorting to. But it gets even better, because a short time later, we get:

Another option to either draw attention to forgery, or to feign ignorance. Once again, I chose both options for argument’s sake, but having Ryu say he has no idea doesn’t get us anywhere. Susato will instead object to say it for him. With “I have an inkling”, Ryu says it himself. Van Zieks once again confesses, in his own words, that he’s caught off guard.

Ryu clarifies that he thinks the blood stain inside the omnibus is decisive evidence, but he can’t say for certain whether it’s genuine. McGilded loses it and by this point, is outright branding Van Zieks an enemy. Since the player at this point doesn't know whether McGilded is guilty or not, it leaves Van Zieks in a bit of narrative limbo. One might think: 'if the prosecutor is so intent on taking down a murderer, shouldn't we be on his side? Is he perhaps not as bad as he seems?' Unfortunately, McGilded points out that recollection and memories don’t matter, only evidence does. And… Well.

Which means they can’t rule on a guilty verdict and will have to let McGilded go. Van Zieks admits that he has no more witnesses or evidence to present. He’s out of options. As a formality, the judge asks the defense’s closing statement and we get one last option. Do we believe him to be guilty or not-guilty? When claiming he’s innocent, Van Zieks says:

It seems he means “abject” in the sense of “without pride/respect/dignity for oneself”, which… You know, is fair. By this point it’s very clear that McGilded is guilty, and since Ryu has already admitted that the evidence may be forged, insisting otherwise is indeed pretty spineless. Scumbag points to Van Zieks for continuing to draw attention to the fact that Ryu is from Japan, though.

Let’s instead just admit that we can’t say for certain McGilded is innocent. Unfortunately, we don’t see Van Zieks react to this, which is a bummer because this could’ve been very telling. The judge questions Ryu’s sanity (no joke) and McGilded laughs because it doesn’t matter; it was just a formality anyway. The judge scolds Van Zieks, saying that his case was flawed and it was his job to keep the evidence secure. Instead of objecting, Van Zieks just outright takes the blame for this and apologizes. Very interesting reaction, here. He stops pointing the finger to McGilded, he doesn’t attempt to accuse anyone else… He just admits his performance was flawed. Ryu tries to interject here:

(A badly-timed screenshot if I’ve ever seen one.) Ryu is making an attempt here to defend Van Zieks, the guy who has built up like 20 scumbag points by now. Ryu sincerely doesn’t hold a grudge against him. That’s very interesting. It doesn’t matter, though. The judge won’t hear of it, Ryu thinks it’s unfair, Van Zieks warns McGilded that this isn’t over and then we get the not-guilty verdict.

Hurray??? Profit??? It’s a victory that’s bound to leave the player feeling conflicted and jarred.

But after all’s said and done, we get one last cutscene to establish just how ominous Van Zieks really is. The omnibus is on fire, someone is inside and we know McGilded went into the courtroom earlier to investigate the omnibus in question. So really, by putting two and two together we can already guess what’s going on here. Van Zieks approaches the scene and watches silently.

It’s a good reminder to us that every defendant he prosecutes is ‘damned’ and he’s called the Reaper for a reason. Really puts the finishing touch on the eerie undertones of his character.

All in all, a pretty typical first time against a new prosecutor. Now I just want to draw attention to the fact that the first time we face Van Zieks in court… he’s actually on the right side of the courtroom and Ryu is not. Van Zieks presumably specifically returned to the court after those five years to target McGilded, as he knows about this guy’s shady reputation when it comes to ‘adapting’ evidence. Barok is 'cursed' in such a way that every defendant he faces is damned. So long as he stands as the prosecutor, McGilded can’t get away with his crimes. No matter how much forgery is done, the Reaper will go after McGilded and it seems Van Zieks was banking on this happening.

He likely also expected Ryu to have been bought off by McGilded; to say whatever’s convenient for his case. Turns out, Ryu is actually a man of integrity who’s invested in the truth and near the end of the trial, Barok has seen evidence of this. So what will happen next? We’ll have to play The Clouded Kokoro and find out! Stay tuned!

[astaroth1357]

Melancholy (A Leviathan x GN MC Fanfic)

I guess you could say I use a lot of personal experience when I write. If I get sad, I’ll write something sad. Lock me in my room and I’ll probably write something about my lamp. I hope you can at least get something out of my occasional literary catharsis. Also, communication is important. Always ask for help if you need to, there’s never any shame in doing so.

Warning: Themes of Depression, Angst

Melancholy: A feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause.

Levi could barely manage his own mood sometimes, so never once did he think that he’d end up having to help someone else with their own. Under normal circumstances, he’d never considered getting involved. All his brothers knew that he was probably the least equipped to deal with their problems, physical or emotional. If they were concerned about completing a boss level or what anime to watch next, he had them covered, but sadness…? That was an Asmo problem or maybe a Beel. Don’t come to him.

But for the MC it was different… They seemed to gravitate to him since the day they first met, even though he tried to push them away. They liked him. They laughed at his dorky jokes and listened to his endless rambling. They would stay up late with him to play the latest game he just got or sit through his six-millionth re-watch of TSL with a smile on their face. He couldn’t quite place when it started to happen, but he felt himself getting slowly more attached to this peculiar human… He gradually started opening his world to them, and they didn’t seem to mind being a part of it. They were at ease with him and all his little eccentricities... It was a feeling of acceptance that he had always craved but was too afraid to seek. He wanted to be with them, hell, he probably even loved them.

So it hurt him in a special way to see them so sad… He couldn’t place why but some days, he’d just notice things were off about them. They wouldn’t laugh as much at his jokes or smile quite as wide when he launched into another one of his rants. He could see them trying. The corners of their mouth would raise briefly, but then drop like they were weighted by cement. Their eyes wouldn’t sparkle like they used to, they’d just stay flat, static… muted. Like something about them had decided to withdraw from the world, hiding away in a place he just couldn’t quite get to… He’d ask them what was wrong, but they never had a good answer for him. Most of the time, they wouldn’t even admit there was a problem. They’d put on that fragile smile and say everything was alright… Did they think he was blind? Sure, Levi knew he wasn’t the most well-versed in people’s emotions, but even he could point to sadness when he saw it. Especially in someone that he cared about so much… 

In truth, he had been paying close attention to them for months now. With the same level of detail as he would his favorite character in a show or a voice actor who’s work he admired. He knew things about them that they may not have known about themselves… Their favorite foods and colors, how they stood and how they walked, the little habits they hung onto from the human world, and all the faces they’d make when no one else is watching... He knew it all as well as he knew any game he’s ever played, and why wouldn’t he? He was their biggest fan.

He tried using all that knowledge to cheer them up. As far as he was concerned, getting them to feel better was his new mission objective. Even his brothers took notice of his dedication to it. More deliveries started showing up at the House filled with very… not-Levi things for once. At one point, he had a rather irritated Lucifer knocking on his door to ask why there were twenty pounds worth flowers all piled in the entryway. He explained it away as him hitting the wrong option on accident, but in all honesty, it was because he ordered them flowers but just couldn’t decide which color or style would have been the best for a bouquet... So he bought them all.

They would always accept his gifts, and he could tell they liked them, but it never seemed to fix the problem... No matter what he bought them, there would still be those days where they looked just too forlorn to smile… It made his heart ache, and he wished that he could be good with people like Asmo or just put people at ease like Beel… Even Mammon was better at getting people to smile than he was… He wanted to help so badly, but every time he built up the courage to ask them about it, they’d never tell him what the problem was… 

Slowly, he began to worry if it was him, like maybe he had done something wrong one day… That had to be it right…? He was a shut-in, he’s never really had to deal with people before… The fear, guilt, and frustration gradually ate at his mind for weeks while he scoured his memories for every little mistake he could have made... Did he miss an important date? Had he forgotten to call them back for something? Did he ignore them by accident one day? With every anxious thought, there was a pressure building inside him… He was growing convinced that MC was upset because of something he had done, but he didn’t want them to leave… not after he’d finally felt so understood. It was only a matter of time before his racing thoughts slipped over…

When they knocked on his door that day, he knew they weren’t in the best mood before they even walked in. Their hand hit his door softer than usual, tentative with a longer pause between strikes. He had half a mind to tell them that he was too busy to hang out that day, having to look at their woeful expression just hurt him that much... But he knew he couldn’t refuse them even if he wanted to. His lovesick heart could never turn them away…

His suspicions were proved true when they stepped in to say hello. They had that same weak smile… the dullness of their eyes almost refusing to reflect the cool, blue glow of his aquarium wall. What did they want from him…? Were they trying to rub something in? He was to busy digging through his mind for their motives to notice that they had crossed the room to stand next to his computer chair. At least not until they gently tapped his shoulder. The concerned look in their eye was enough to stop his heart, he would have leapt from his chair had they not been blocking the way.

“Levi…? Are you okay? I said hello…” There they were, clearly drowning in their own sorrow, yet they were still concerned for him of all people? The guy who couldn’t even make them smile...? His brain short-circuited for a moment, and his next words flew out without his say-so.

“I’m s-sorry!!” He watched them pause before their brow furrowed in confusion, probably because he had just shouted in their face... He suddenly wished he could shrink down and hide in Henry’s fishbowl… This is why he doesn’t deal with people...

“Sorry…? About what…?” His eyes flicked frantically around the room while he tried to form some kind of exit strategy, but there wasn’t much he could do. There really was no turning back now, was there…?   He was finally going to have to say something… Demons don’t pray, but he could feel himself begging for someone, anyone, to make this go well…

“A-about well… You’ve been sad a lot lately and I uh… I know I didn’t remember to get you that limited edition Hinata figurine from the last convention we went to… Or that you had a test to study for a few weeks ago when I tried to get you to play Devil’s Haven with me… I also didn’t notice your last haircut until an hour after I saw you and I accidentally ate your pudding cup from Madame Scream’s and blamed it on Beel-”

“Levi…”

“-I know I should have gotten the red camellias instead of the pink on that last batch of flowers. I saw the balance was off-”

“Levi.”

“-but I thought it’d be okay. Oh, and I’m sorry I hit you with that body pillow last week! I was aiming for Mammon, I sw-”

“Leviathan!” They had to put their finger over his mouth to keep him from rambling on. His face flushed almost immediately, in part due to embarrassment but also because of their proximity. The MC’s face had softened considerably, but he could still see the lingering sadness over their features… Had he not said enough…?

“You… You actually think that it’s your fault that I’m like this…?” They took their finger back and looked at him expectantly. Levi swallowed a growing lump in his throat and nodded hesitantly. He didn’t trust himself not to launch into another self-conscious tirade if he tried opening his mouth again… It felt like a stab to the chest when he saw their expression dip farther into despair.

“It’s not your fault, Levi… I just…” They drew in a deep breath and let it out as a sullen sigh, avoiding his eyes. “I just get sad sometimes… It’s a passing mood swing. I can’t really control it, and it doesn’t always have a reason… You’ve actually been helping me, though.” Levi’s amber-toned eyes widened like saucers, he could barely believe his ears. Was this a dream, or had they just told him that he actually helped them with something…? 

“I have…??” The dumbstruck look on his face must have been pretty amusing because they actually graced him with their smile, full and authentic with no hidden melancholy.

“Yes, you dork! You have.” The light from his aquarium finally touched their eyes, dancing in amongst the natural sparkle that always accompanied their gaze. “That’s why I always keep coming here… Your jokes, your gifts… just how excited you get when you see something you love… it... It all helps. It really does…” A pang of guilt seemed to hit them as they turned away from him again, shrinking back from his presence.

“I’m so sorry I never said anything to you… I must have been showing up at your door sadder and sadder each time… No wonder you thought you were behind it…” They averted his stunned gaze by watching the jellyfish float behind his wall. “You must have felt awful… I hope you can forgive me…” The genuine remorse in their voice sent his mind into an anxious panic. He wanted, no, needed to do something now. He just couldn’t bear one more minute of their sadness…

“N-no it’s fine!” They turned back toward him in shock when his hands grasped at the hem of their shirt, his sitting form straining to try and coax their standing one closer. He just didn’t want them to pull away again… “I’m not mad or anything, I just… wish you would talk to me, you know? I want to help…”

They were silent for a few moments, eyeing him with mixed emotions and darkened cheeks, but soon let him pull them in. He rested his head on their stomach while his arms glued to their waist. It may not have been the most conventional position, but it was one where they were close, so frankly, Levi could care less. He felt them settle into it slowly, resting an arm around his shoulders while their fingers combed softly through his hair. The feeling almost made him shiver, but he didn’t want to ruin the mood.

After several long minutes locked in tranquility, he found that he just had to ask…

“MC… Is this helping…?” His heart skipped a beat when he finally heard their laugh once more, soft and charming as it always was…

“Yes, Levi… You always do…”

[nepenthendline]

Trust - Tsukishima

wow is this actually part 2 of what I started like two months ago? mental

this is what was going to be the reality series but honestly, we all know thats gonna take ages for me to actually find motivation to do so im just doing them as and when I feel like it lol

Summary: Your relationship with Tsukishima isn’t going as strongly as you wanted, but Tsukishima is struggling to trust that you won’t hurt him (angst but it doesn’t end badly, 2.7k)

Tsukishima had been part of your life for the last two years, you both now being in your third year of high school. You had been in the same class every year, and little interactions such as brushing past each other to get to your desk, and asking him for a pen every now and then, turned into a budding friendship that left you both feeling safe and settled. You’d become close friends with Yamaguchi who was also in your class, so spending more time with Tsukishima was unavoidable. You were thankful for it though; both of you were.

Tsukishima was difficult; you either loved him or hated him, and unfortunately most of those who loved him were girls who thought he was hot and had never actually spoken to him, but his cool persona alluded them. Even you at first found his personality a little too prickly, not knowing how to deal with his teasing or aloofness, but slowly and subtly, you began to see these little parts of him that drew you closer. 

Like the evenings where the three of you would hang out and his walls seemed to fall a little to the point where you’d see him smile and let out little giggled that he hid behind his hand, the time when you went to a museum together for a school project and watched as he beelined for his favourite exhibitions and spent hours reading every single informative poster, or how he would present you with small encouragements whenever you were getting overwhelmed. He was more than his teasing, his remarks and the detached role he played. There was a warmth to him that sparked at times; this particular quality that surfaced whenever you needed someone to talk to or take time away with.

He hated that you had become such a big part of his life, but he didn’t want it to end. You were so different from him, yet so similar. There was a brightness to you that he could never emulate, but you understood him. You never got pissed off with his, sometimes rotten, personality; you listened to him and you never once pushed him further than he was comfortable with. He appreciated it, but he had no idea what to do with that. Slowly, he noticed how his heart would race slightly whenever he was around you, how his palms got a little sweaty and the way you plagued his thoughts way into the night. 

Late into your second year, you confessed your feelings to Tsukishima, someone accidentally as you had been ranting to him about your thoughts recently one evening. Shockingly to you, he accepted your confession. Even more shockingly was that he didn’t tease you at all for your feelings towards him, but instead offered you a nod, and a ‘me too’. 

You were nervous, but excited at how your relationship could progress and deepen with him. There was a sense of pride in you about how this distant boy had chosen you, that maybe there was someone good enough for him and that would be you out of all the others. And that you would get the be the only one that heard about his secrets, his deep thoughts, his happy moments where he couldn’t help but smile, and darker ones. That you would be the one who could warm his heard and show him a life of light. 

It was never like that. After 6 months together, it was as if nothing had changed between the two of you. Sure, you hung out together away from Yamaguchi at times, and you still talked to him when you needed to offload at points, but it was like you were just friends. The relationship wasn’t bad by any means; he was never nasty to you and he showed you nothing but respect. It was as if his walls were being rebuilt, one brick at a time. 

He rarely told you how he was feelings or his thoughts, he never showed any sign of vulnerability to you, but he also rarely showed love. You didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, after all you hadn’t been together for that long, but it felt like any previous feeling he had for you had disappeared. But maybe not? There were nights were you’d be talking, sitting on his bed together, and his hand would brush over to yours, lightly trailing over your skin as his eyes focused on you. He seemed so settled with you, so calm, and he would talk to you, tell you things about his past and his struggled. But then the next day he would keep his distance, barely laying his eyes on your or sharing his mind. You’d walk into class and he’d simply place his headphones on, turning his head away from you. 

His mind was tormented, and you knew that. He had told you on a couple nights about the haunted thoughts that spiralled in his brain often, of the anxieties that built up in him that he wasn’t worthy, that there was no point trying because it was already decided for him to fail. Even if he didn’t tell you, it wasn’t so hard to figure out when you actually paid attention to him. Often at school or around his club members, he’d mention how he could never compare to anyone else and that he was merely an inferior being. 

And so he pushed. He pushed people away with his quick quips and his disinterest in anything or anyone. His brother, his team and even you. He removed any chance of himself getting hurt, or rejected, or used. He wasn’t going to make a fool of himself and put his heart into things that were only going to hurt him in the end. If it wasn’t for the way his heart twisted in pain at the idea of leaving you, he would have never let you into his life. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but he knew how things were going to play out, so he did the next best thing and pulled himself away from you. Every day, he tried to drown out the thought of you in his mind, the idea that, possibly (almost definitely), he wanted to be your everything. Because if you hurt him, he would have nothing left. It would simply prove every worry, every excruciating thought he bottled up for the past many years. 

You two were sitting in his room, somewhat late into the evening, with him laying on his back on his bed with his headphones on, reading a magazine, and you sitting sideways on the bed too with your back resting against the wall. You were reading a book before, but your attention on that bad been long gone, and now deeply set on your thoughts. You looked over to Tsukishima, you boyfriend, although you’d never have guessed if it wasn’t for that fact that you were the one that asked him out. 

His expression looked so gentle though, something you didn’t see too often expect the odd times where you’d catch him looking at you. His honey eyes moved side to side as he flicked through the magazine, and his fingers often drummed against the pages in what you assumed was the beat of his music. You really couldn’t blame half the girls in your class that gushed over how attractive he was.

“What?” His voice suddenly jolted you out of your stare. You quickly looked away with your cheeks burning a little. 

“Uh-nothing,” you stuttered in a low tone, picking up your book again and doing your best to just look like you were reading.

“You were going to burn a hole in my skull if you had stared any longer,” he teased, raising his brow. 

“Sorry,” your voice was quiet, weak, as you barely acknowledged what he said. You were too focused on this wandering worries that swirled around inside. You felt him shuffle beside you, putting down the magazine and lifting the headphones off. He sat up, pulling his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms loosely around them. 

“What is it?” The frown on his face and the way he searched yours was mismatched to the annoyance in how voice, but you were used to it. Honestly, if you said nothing, or didn’t speak, he wouldn’t make you go on and you knew that, you could easily make it out to be nothing. He knew you were lying when you did this, but he wasn’t going to make you talk, and he didn’t want to seem like he cared too much to get it out of you. 

“Kei, what do you think about us? About me?” You asked hesitantly, turning to look at him. You couldn’t back away anymore. 

“Huh? What do you mean?” His eyes widen a little, and he sat up a little stiffer than before. 

“Do you have feelings for me, or not?” As much as you wanted to tiptoe around this, Tsukishima was the master of getting out of difficult conversations and bluntness was exactly what he needed. 

He turned his head away from you, looking at the floor beside his bed and took a deep breath.

“I’m with you, aren’t I?” 

“That doesn’t answer my question. Do you have feelings for me, or not?” You repeated. He turned back to look at you, his eyes small as he squinted at you from behind his frames. 

“Yes, I do,” he replied, letting out a sigh. Hearing that should have made you felt comforted, loved even, but it set fire to this anger in you.

“You don’t act like it,” his brow raised at you, as if edging you to continue, “we’ve been together for 6 months and what? I probably speak to you less than I did before we were dating, and you don’t seem to care at all.” You let out a heavy breath, looking away from him and staring at his wall. “I’m used to you being distant, but I thought things might change when we agreed to this. I feel like you’re just pushing me away. If you don’t feel anything for me when why lead me on instead of break up with me?” You spoke with a little more hostility than you intended, but you’d been overthinking this for a while now, and it felt good to say aloud. 

“I said I do have feelings for you, so can’t we just leave it at that?” He stood up, walking over to his desk and leaning over it, one arm holding himself up and the other picking up his water bottle. 

“Then why don’t you show me that? Why don’t we talk more than we do? Why don’t you hold my hand or hug me, or even kiss me? Why do you barely even acknowledge my existence when I’m around?” Your voice grew as you spoke, flooding the room. The room was plummeted into an awkward silence after you spoke; Tsukishima said nothing, and stood over his desk. All you could hear with the thump of your heart and your breathing. 

“What do you expect me to do?” He spoke, a bitterness in his voice. Your sight became blurry with tears that threatened to fall, what you expected of him? As if this some transaction that the two of you were involved in?

“I don’t expect anything from you, but if you do have feelings for me then surely you’d want to show me that? And let me show you too?” You lifted up from the bed, quickly coming to his side, “we could be so good together if you let us.” Your lip quivered; thoughts filling your head that maybe this was it, this would be the end of you together if Tsukishima decided he didn’t want this anymore or that he never did. Standing beside him, you saw his close his eyes, his head falling down towards the ground. 

“We could be. And then what if we aren’t?” You barely heard him as his muttered, laced with a poison you’ve never experienced before.

“Huh?”

“What if you decide you don’t want this and then leave? What if we both put all our heart into this, and it goes to shit? What’s the point?” He turned to you, his eyes wide and flaring. 

“W-well we can work things out. It’s not going to be perfect but we can deal with issues when they come up.” He pushed up from the desk, standing inches above, looking down towards you. His eyes glowed in the dark of his room, but it wasn’t a bright one, more like the light of a raging, agonised flame. 

“And what if you decide I’m not enough?” The silence returned as you stared at him, your jaw slack and left speechless. You saw him swallow hard as his throat wobbled, but he remained stiff in his spot. “The more I love you, the more it’s going to hurt when you leave.” 

Confused, your brows knotted together and your head titled as you looked at him. “Leave? I’m not going to leave you.” The corners of his lips curled upwards into a sickening grin as he let out a dark, sarcastic chuckle.

“Of course not.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” you said, firmly, your hands tightening into fists as you watched him. “Look, I can’t promise you that everything’s going to be perfect between us because it probably won’t be, or that we’ll be together forever because neither of us know that, but I can promise you that I’m not going to intentionally hurt you, and that I will do anything I can to make us work. But I need you to trust me.” 

His head turned to the side, looking away from you as his fingers fiddled together. You moved forward, slowly brushing your fingers against his, then taking his hand when he didn’t flinch away. “I know it’s going to take a while, I understand. I came into this knowing that, but if you want this too then I need you to try.” You lifted a hand and gently placed it on his warm cheek. You felt him ease ever so slightly into your touch, and you guided his face to look towards you. “Yeah, it’s going to hurt if this doesn’t work, but it could be so amazing, and we won’t know that until we try,” your voice cracked, and you bit your lip to hold back your tears. 

His eyes were glassy, empty-looking as he stared back. You both stood still, quiet for a few moments. You were just wishing he would say something, do something. You didn’t expect him to start gushing his love to you, but just something that would show you he wanted this, and that you could both move on together. You searched his face but it was as if he wasn’t even there, simply an empty shell of a body that had already been devoured by the demons in him. A single tear rolled down your cheek and you let your hand fall from his face. 

Just as you were about to take a step away, he pulled you into his arms, trapping you close to his pounding chest. One arms wrapped around your waist and the other holding your head close, shaking a little. You let out a gasp, but relaxed into him, hugging him back. 

After a few moments, you let yourself nuzzle into his chest, tightening your grip around him for the first time. It felt so comfortable, so natural being in his hold. 

“Please, just let me in,” you croaked, tears staining his shirt. His fingers tangled themselves into your hair, the other hand digging into the skin on your hips as he rested his head on yours. “If you think you could, let yourself love me, please.”

He nodded, tilting his head down to place a kiss on your head, leaving his lips to rest there as he shut he eyes, breathing in your scent. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be enough for you, but I’m too selfish to let you go.”

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.25}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.2k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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Two minutes after the elaborate goodnight wishes, the five girls were finally on their way down to the dungeons. Cas was babbling away as always, entertaining both Melissa and Lisa to the fullest, while Jorien and Robin merely listened and observed as they followed behind. The three girls up front barely made it down the spiral staircase, giggling as they were, but not even the gloomy darkness of the dungeon hallways could bring the calm and quiet of the night into their conversation as they happily chatted on and on about the many highlights of the dance. Thus it wasn't surprising when a minute later nobody took notice of Robin's quiet yelp as she was whisked away from the group in a crossing of one gloomy hallway with an even darker one.

The adrenaline in Robin's blood skyrocketed immediately, the yelp dying on her lips in a broken moment of initial surprise. Then the familiar arm around her waist and the comforting scent of home quenched every spark of fear or panic in her mind.

She found herself pressed against the cold stone wall a second later, kept in place by the weight of his body while his soft lips on her own demanded a fire she gladly returned, and every last cell in her body lit up in roaring flames as an immediate response. Her heart was bursting, drumming furiously against her ribcage while its echoes pulsed through her entire body in sheer blissful heat. Oh bloody fucking hell, this was magnificent… breathtaking, in every sense of the word. And it still was terribly dangerous, even here now in the dark. That, perhaps, was the only flaw of the moment, their one and only honest mistake.

"Are you aware that you are way too good at this?" Snape finally asked, ragged breaths brushing against Robin's skin as he leaned his forehead against hers. Upon this she smiled, but her eyes stayed closed as she found herself too overwhelmed to open them. She didn't need to; she could feel him, his presence, his warmth, his entire being…

"Really?" She finally let out a humoured and incredulous huff in reply. How could she be any good at this if she had never kissed anyone before? Was her lack of experience really not all that noticeable?

"Without a doubt. I would never allow myself to get this carried away in a school hallway of all places if you didn't enchant me beyond any measure. Beyond any reason."

"Sev-..." She was cut off by his lips, both in word and thought and she lost every string of reason that had just started to gather back together. Oh screw experience, they were way too good at this to even think of that. She must be doing something very right if he couldn't stop this madness either, couldn't resist the growing addiction.

It once again was the noise of people crossing by in a hallway close by that broke them apart, and only then Robin noticed for the first time how much it hurt to stand on one's tiptoes for an extended amount of time. For a kiss like that, she still would do it again and again any time.

"I should apologise for seizing you like that without your permission." He finally said when the retiring students' laughter and chattering had faded in the distance, then he took a step backwards to give Robin her space as well. "Who knew I could act like a dunderhead myself, given the chance."

"Oh, I knew." Robin couldn't help grinning as she stepped away from the wall, which earned her a small glare and a not-smirk. "And as much as I understand and appreciate your point, you do have my permission. Besides, where would be the point in suddenly pressing me against a wall and kissing me senseless if it came with a warning?"

Snape didn't look at her, but the corners of his lips were twitching and she could tell with utmost certainty that he was amused even though being rather flustered at the same time. It was surprisingly adorable, really, and made her wonder if he had never been in such a situation before. Well, not exactly the same situation, obviously, but still…

"I have wanted to do that for a long time now." He replied to her surprise, and his eyes were back on hers, dark and intense and every last idea of adorable was gone. Instead, his gaze made Robin shiver in delighted excitement. "But never would I have thought that it would be better than anything I was even vaguely able to imagine."

"You imagined kissing me?"

"More often than I should admit to, if I want to keep some last scraps of dignity at least."

"I've seen you lying in a muddy river before, as well as being stuck in a giant cobweb. And if that's not enough, we were just snogging in the hallways like the hormonal teenagers we scold for doing the very same. I think it's a bit too late to worry about your dignity with me." Robin chuckled, louder even when Snape rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, but her heart soared when he smiled again after all. "We really should get out of the hallways though, I'm tired of fearing people might run into us. I really don't see how the danger of getting caught can be appealing to someone, for me it's just nerve-wracking."

"I could not agree more."

After taking two seconds to straighten out their appearances just in case, they made their way through the gloomy darkness side by side like they had done so often by now, with the small but significant change that the accidental touches, the brushing of hands and bumping of arms were more intentional than not this time, and both knew it to be their fullest intention as well. Robin couldn't keep the grin off her face, but she bit her bottom lip to tone it down as much as possible. She hadn't felt so much giddy excitement in one night since… well, ever really. And when they walked right past the office, then past the lab as well, a liquid lightning ran from the top of her head down her spine to her very core and every cell beyond. These new rushes were only an additional layer to the bottomless adoration and affection that had been there for years now, to the deeply rooted love she held for him, but it was a heavenly addition nonetheless. It certainly gave the term 'allconsuming' an entirely new meaning, an inevitably deeper one.

It was only when Snape stopped in the crossing of hallways that on one end led to the common room and to his rooms on the other that Robin's smile faltered. With a confused frown she didn't bother to hide she came to a halt as well, looking up at him with the question clear as night in her eyes so she wouldn't have to say the words. It was safer than admitting to being as boldly assuming as she had been… somehow she hadn't doubted that they would at least have a coffee. Like always. Or… did he need space now, with everything that had happened? After all the days and nights they had spent together, he didn't really strike Robin as the kind of person who would need space, not from her. From others, yes, always if possible, but he hadn't sent her away in years, rather on the contrary really. So-...

"I don't know if this could be considered a good idea by any means." He said in a calm tone, reluctant almost while yet he reached out for Robin's hand and pulled her closer to himself. Always the contradiction, that man…

"And why wouldn't it be a good idea?" She asked in return, calm encouragement colouring her voice now that she knew the reason for his hesitation wasn't a sudden wish for distance. Indeed, as if to prove that point, he interlaced their fingers and drew her closer the last bit in a single move of gentle elegance.

"Because if you come with me right now, I won't let you leave again until we are late for breakfast." He replied quietly and yet in that intense sincerity that had Robin's heart skipping beats while her eyes were glued to his. Gods, he really did mean it… excitement struck her like lightning, her heartbeat posed the thunder.

"I can live with that." She managed to say in a breath, her lips curving up into a smile upon the repetition of his earlier words. Then they formed a smirk as she went on. "Bold of you to assume that I'll want to leave for breakfast though."

"Oh, I've never been partial to having three meals per day anyway."

His reply made Robin laugh, then smile up at him brightly and with just a hint of tease. "It's not such a bad idea after all, huh?"

"That would depend entirely on who you ask." He quirked an eyebrow at her with a not-smirk, then walked on down the hallway with a start while keeping hold of Robin's hand. She didn't need to be not-told twice to follow, and was again walking by his side when he spoke on. "I for my part cannot complain, and I honestly don't care about any other opinion but yours beyond that."

"Complaining wouldn't help you at this point anyway, because I have recently discovered the perfect way to bribe you."

"Is that so?"

"Open the door and I'll show you." Robin replied easily but with a teasing smirk no less once they reached his rooms in the bow of the hallway.

"Don't tempt me."

"Isn't that what a temptation is supposed to do?" She quipped while her smirk broadened. "Tempt?"

"You are insufferable."

"Or perhaps tease? Allure? Seduce? Ens-..." She didn't get further when she was pulled through the now open door and into the darkness behind it, barely catching how it was thrown shut again before she found herself tightly trapped against it from the inside. The grin that wanted to form on her lips died a broken second later when she got exactly what she wanted, and yet, as always, so much more.

His lips moved against hers in hunger, returning every bit of passion she gave, and yet there wasn't a hint of roughness in the kiss, no blunt strength which would taint the blissful sensuality. In a spark of boldness or bravery, Robin traced the tip of her tongue over his bottom lip, only for him to gasp against her lips in return. When she wrapped her arms around his neck and did the same thing again, the gasp turned into a silent moan and he pulled her with him away from the door, staggering through the darkness with a baffling certainty until one unfortunate movement of his hand over the hurting spot on Robin's back made her first hiss in pain, then flinch at the intensity of it. He let go of her immediately in return, and Robin's first fathomable thought was a silent curse directed at Morgan for being the cause of what had broken apart this moment. The stupid pain in her back.

"What did I do this time?" Snape asked in honest concern as well as subtle remorse, and a second later the fireplace lit up from a wordless spell, illuminating the remainder of the room in a gentle orange golden glow. They had almost reached the sofa by now, obviously having made their way there before the pain had put a stop to their plans.

"You did absolutely nothing wrong, I promise." Robin immediately gave him a small but reassuring smile, and held onto him so he wouldn't even think about moving away. "It's just that spot on my back that's still hurting ever since Morgan touched it, it really doesn't matter. Don't worry."

"Your back simply started hurting out of nowhere upon his touch during the dance? And he didn't speak a word?" Snape still inquired further, in lingering concern but quite obviously more at ease now that he knew it wasn't his doing that had hurt her at least. Robin had to smile at his sheer inability not to worry about her; it made her heart soar in warmth and adoration all the more. And seeing as he wouldn't stop asking, now that she had brought the mysterious pain to his attention, they might just have to deal with it right now.

"Not a word that was a spell, at least… and yes, he just traced his fingers over my back and that caused a strong stinging and burning that faded a moment later though. Now it hurts whenever someone even comes close to touching it. That's why I flinched so stupidly." She shrugged with a half smile. "Sorry for that."

"Don't apologise for what clearly isn't your fault. I should curse Morgan into oblivion for hurting you right in this instant… but I would rather take your pain away if I can." Snape sighed, then paused for a moment, lost in thought, before he finally spoke up again. "Did it hurt when your back hit the wall? Or the door? Or is it just a hand's touch that hurts?"

The question made Robin frown to herself; she hadn't considered that. The answer she came up with for herself then rendered her frown even deeper. "I believe it's just an actual human touch that causes me pain. It didn't hurt at all when I leaned against whatever surface, and neither does the dress make it sore or anything like that… But you and the girls could hurt me quite a bit by just touching any spot on my back. What does that mean?"

"I have a vague idea." He grumbled to himself at the thought of it, and Robin understood the sentiment only too well in this regard. "Can you touch it without pain?"

"I can try…" She mused and did just that, but even though she only barely could reach the spot with the back of her fingers when she twisted her arm enough, there should have been at least a little sting. But no, nothing, no pain at all. She frowned to herself again. "That's weird. I can't even precisely tell you where it is when it doesn't hurt… and I can touch it without pain. Perhaps it's nothing."

"Magical wounds should not be taken lightly, especially if inflicted by someone as irresponsible as Morgan. We should take you to the hospital wing."

"Or you could look at it here." Robin suggested easily, shrugging with one shoulder as she observed his reluctant but not averse expression. "You know more about the situation with Morgan, about what happened tonight and about me than anyone in the infirmary. I really don't mean to doubt their abilities at all, but I think if it's a magical thing of more or less unknown origin, it falls more into the dark arts anyway, which precisely is the point where I would prefer you to look at it. Who knows, maybe it really is nothing and we're through with it in two minutes… we could save ourselves the time of way. I have other plans for tonight than sitting around the infirmary with a bunch of punch-drunk students."

"Do you?" He couldn't help the smirk on his lips upon that, even though it was clear that he was trying to fight the short lived amusement due to the otherwise serious situation. At least it wasn't serious enough to warrant the complete absence of humour on his end, so that was a relief at least.

"Yeah, actually. I was hoping for a drink and the continuation of where we were interrupted, but I'm still open for further suggestions." She smiled up at him and he rolled his eyes, but the amusement stayed nonetheless, which sufficed to give Robin some more courage. They'd be through with this in no time, they always had been when she'd been injured. "Do you happen to know a spell to undo a million tiny buttons? I haven't found one yet, but if anyone knows such a thing, it would have to be you."

He let out an amused huff, then quirked an eyebrow at Robin. "I believe if there was such a spell, I would have discovered it by now. Every time I tried to invent one myself however, it led to the destruction of the garment rather than the desired result. Therefore I unfortunately have to disappoint you. Why do you ask?"

"Because it would have spared you work." She chuckled, somewhere between humour and embarrassment, the latter of which however she strongly tried to reason against. He'd seen her in various stages of undress over time, and it had never been a big deal. Or had it? Would he think differently of it now than he had over summer? Gods, why was she nervous now?! It wasn't even the kind of situation where she should be nervous, they were just trying to make sure that her back was alright, for heaven's sake! And she still stood with her point that she would rather have Snape looking at her injuries than anyone else, even in complete disregard to the most recent developments between them. This had nothing to do with that, it was just a coincidence. An oddly fitting one, going by the line of events.

Robin resisted the temptation to roll her eyes at herself and her antics and merely turned around so that her back was right in front of him, making an obvious point of what she wanted him to do. This wasn't a movie; plots didn't just fall into place like that. Two things could happen without any obvious correlation between them. She sighed, then focused on the task at hand. "Perhaps I should've worn a dress with a zipper like everyone else, huh? Then again, I wasn't really expecting anyone having to undress me tonight."

She didn't need to look at him to know that he was hesitating, and if she was honest, she couldn't really blame him. Truth was that things were different now, or could be different now, and it was uncharted territory for both of them. Either of them was uncertain what to make of it, afraid to make a wrong move. At least it brought some peace and relief to her mind that he obviously was just as insecure as she was in this new and yet so very familiar moment of innocent intimacy. Even though things like this had happened in the plenty over summer already.

"We're just looking at my back for the damage Morgan did yet again… Just like the times he dislocated my shoulder, or cut open my hand, or-... well, you know what I mean. You've seen me torn up and bloody before, and we've always taken care of it. And I know for a fact that your hands aren't cold, so there really is nothing to worry about, right?" She said in a calm, almost soothing voice, both to him and herself, and contrary to what she had thought, it actually caused an overwhelming wave of ease and comfort to wash over her when he finally started with the first button in the back of her neck. When his fingers brushed against her skin however, her breathing hitched nonetheless while goosebumps covered her skin within a broken second. Perhaps this wasn't entirely like it had been over summer… But comfort and excitement were what it caused yet again, and that really seemed to be a reoccurring theme with them. Their own perfect ambivalence. Home and adventure at once.

It didn't take long at all until the buttons were open down to her waist, just far enough so she could slip the spiky and stiff shoulder parts off her arms, which left her to clutch the front of her dress to her chest quite a bit more tightly than necessary. Robin blamed the neckline of her dress for making her forsake any kind of bralette… It left her upper body entirely bare now, and that in return was the reason why she was clutching the front of the dress to her chest. But then again, she didn't really mind it too much if she was being honest with herself. Having an excuse to show some skin… forcing her to be bolder than she was… it really was terribly exciting for some stupid reason. A lucky coincidence, even if a bit poorly timed. Most of all however, Robin liked the reaction she was getting from the man behind her, judged by the fact that his heartbeat had doubled in speed by the time her back was exposed to him almost entirely. There it was again, that overwhelming excitement that came with the power she seemed to have over him… the knowledge that her mere being did such things to him. But they were just looking at her back for the spellwork done on her, and she gave herself a mental slap to stop pondering how they could go on from there. Unrelated situations, and all that…

"So… how does it look?" She finally asked in a surprising calmness, considering that her every sense was heightened to the extreme. Gods, she wanted him to touch her skin again, even if it would hurt… No, bad thought, bad Robin! There was work to do, and she was getting distracted!

"Like three hand-length cuts that seem to have scarred. Did you ever notice those before? They look far older than just a few hours." He mused in return, then carefully pulled Robin closer to the fireplace by her elbow. She didn't resist and merely walked backwards blindly until she was in the direct light of the fire, and thereby also in the reach of its warmth. He stopped her there, and for a moment she wondered if he needed the light or if he had just noticed the goosebumps on her skin. Duh, obviously he had… they were hard to miss, even if they weren't at all caused by the cold. Either way, his hand lingered on her arm, and that was even more welcome than the fire's warmth.

"Actual scars? I don't think I've had them before, no. And truth be told, you probably would've seen them before if they had been there for longer." She finally remembered to reply, then frowned to herself. "And in addition to that, I can't remember ever getting severely injured on the back. Other than the thing with the bludger in fifth year, that is… I never really knew exactly how badly I hurt myself there, and I never dared to ask."

"Badly enough to have me terrified of your impending death."

"Oops…" She breathed rather lamely, then chuckled to herself almost apologetically. "I guess passing out in the infirmary right in front of your eyes didn't help much with that."

"No. Neither did it prepare me for the instance last summer where you actually came close to death when you passed out on my doorstep." He said in a sigh, then the hand on Robin's arm vanished as he spoke on. "Let us ensure that it won't happen again and find out what that pest of a man did to you this time. Tell me when the pain becomes noticeable, yes?"

Robin only hummed in agreement, and jumped a second later when he placed a hand on her shoulder this time, in a gentle touch that had her melting right on the spot. Slowly and with just enough pressure to be noticeable at all, his fingers danced across her skin, down to her shoulder blade and over her spine, tracing three lines at last with a bit more pressure. Robin had to bite her lip to keep in both a sigh of bliss and a whimper of pain. For some odd reason these two were currently very hard to tell apart in that they both caused an echo of his touch, a heat pulsing through her in the rhythm of her heartbeat.

"Didn't that hurt at all?" He asked with a frown practically ingrained in his tone, as well as confusion in the plenty, and Robin had to call defeat to circumstance.

"Oh. Yes, it did. Sorry, I really should have said something." She admitted in a quiet voice, then got a grasp of herself and continued on a little louder. "But I didn't want you to stop, so I kind of… forgot speech over the overwhelming feeling of having your touch on my back at all."

"You do make it very difficult for me to focus on the problem at hand when you say things like that."

His words brought a smile to Robin's face as it suddenly eradicated the nervousness, and she was only glad that he couldn't see it. "I'm sorry."

"You're not."

"True, I'm not." She couldn't help chuckling at her own half-hearted attempt to fool him, and even more at his trenchant ability to see right through her. "But I'll try to focus on the problem now instead of how amazing your hands feel on my skin."

"Robin…" He warned her quietly, but she could still hear the smirk in his voice, and that's when she couldn't help laughing.

"It's really not my fault!" She protested, and almost would've dropped her arms in a grand gesture if she hadn't remembered just why she was holding her dress in place in the very last second. This entire situation was as ridiculous as it was dangerous as it was wonderful. "You try focusing on anything beyond the tingles when your entire body is a goddamn wildfire!"

"I am trying right now, and you're not making it any easier. The sight of you alone is distracting enough."

"Just that little bit of skin is supposedly doing to you what your touch does to me? Sorry, but I sincerely doubt it."

"You shouldn't." He replied entirely seriously now, and the mere tone of his voice was enough to make Robin shiver again. "It does not take naked skin or fancy gowns for me to think of you as far more than simply ‘delectable’. You are nothing short of the most breathtaking creature I have ever been blessed to see, to stay with the trivial matter of physical appearance for once. But indeed, while I could not care less for others' looks and garments, you never fail to enchant me entirely with any of yours, and seeing as I have previously not had the opportunity to see quite so much of your skin, it does affect me quite strongly now at long last."

Robin's heart skipped a beat, then set into a steady gallop that made it delightfully hard to breathe. But for some reason, the words on her lips did not care for that at all. "You make it very difficult for me to focus on the problem at hand when you say things like that." She mirrored his statement, smiling to herself at the thought. "But do you actually mean it or are you just trying to get revenge on me by equal terms?"

"Both, obviously, but the latter is rather a lucky side effect of the former. And since we are discussing it already, you can call me blind if you will, but I do actually find your hair very attractive on any day, especially because it is a perfect mess." He answered easily, while his fingers continued to trace irregular patterns over the injured part of her back that seemed to hurt more and more by the minute. "Even though I very much appreciate the recent absence of the pineapple scent."

Robin found that she didn't mind the pain, especially not when his reference to her words from earlier this evening as well as the dreaded pineapple made her laugh, and the knowledge that he did, in fact, mean all of those things he'd said made her skin tingle pleasantly. He never made shallow compliments; when he deliberately said something nice for once, one could be sure that he meant it to the fullest.

"I think that might be among the loveliest things you have ever said to me." She smiled after a moment, when her soaring heart would let her speak up through the haze of emotions. "Directly said to me, that is. You say a lot of nice things when you don't mean to."

"Don't get used to it. What a crazy world would we be living in if I started saying nice things regularly now… It would entirely destroy the efficiency and purpose of my compliments." He scoffed in obvious sarcasm and tease, while placing his second hand on her shoulder to keep her in place for whatever he was doing.

"You're an idiot, Sev-..." Robin's words and laughter were cut off with a start when Snape placed his other hand directly on the hurting spot on her back, with quite a bit more pressure than before. It caused a pain far too strong for any measure to ripple through her every sense, and a well of tears to spring to her eyes in return. "Ouch! God damn and bloody hell…"

"I might be an idiot, but an idiot who can focus far better when we banter as usual. That seems to have become somewhat of a precondition for me to be able to work efficiently." He returned, then removed his hands from her entirely before he spoke on in a much more tainted tone. "I apologise for having to hurt you, but in order to undo the spell before it became even more dangerous, that unfortunately was inevitable. Now however, the pain should be gone once and for all in just a moment."

"Wait, you… you know what Morgan did to me and just… undid it like that?" Robin turned around to face him with a deep frown creasing her brows in an instant. "Is that what you were doing while we talked?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't bother telling me?! At least a little warning, perhaps?"

"I had the choice between distracting you by making you laugh and thereby forget about the pain I was unfortunately causing in the process, or to further said pain even more by talking about Morgan and his vile doings." He replied so easily that it made perfect sense now, that it appeared to be the most obvious solution ever. "As you see, it wasn't even a choice to be made."

"Thank you. That… was a really clever thing to do, actually." Robin sighed and gave him a soft smile, then took a moment to appreciate how the shadows of the flames danced across his skin before she spoke on. "So… no more pain for now?"

"Not as far as I can tell, at least."

"Let's find out for sure then, shall we?"

______________________________

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[zevlors-tail]

Depressed and touch starved Shigaraki crushing hard on y/n, a new recruit for the league/liberation front. He wants to be in a relationship with her, but is afraid of her turning to dust by his own hands. Little does he know, she feels the same way.

Warnings: Jealous Shiggy, bit of OOC/Yandere Toga? Knives, brief mention of villains/heroes fighting, heavy pining, tiny argument between Shig and the reader.

Ever since the day he laid eyes on you, Shigaraki had it bad. You had only joined the League of Villains a couple months ago, but within that short time span, you had completely captivated his heart. Maybe it was your quick thinking, or your reserved personality, or maybe the way your eyes seem to sparkle with mischief when he talked to you about future plans for the League. Whatever it was, it drew him in further every time he looked at you, brought out feelings in him that he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time; feelings that both scared and excited him to the point where he wasn’t sure whether to pursue something with you or run away.

At first, he chose the latter. A week in to getting to know you and he was terrified that he had feelings for you, so he pulled away in every aspect imaginable. He ignored you during missions, talked to you as little as possible, and barely even looked your way. You were lucky if he even passed by you in the halls of the hideout. He spent most of his time pent up in his room muttering and trying to scheme, although any plans he attempted to make were ultimately thwarted by thoughts of you. It didn’t help that even with the forced distance between the two of you and his giving you the cold shoulder, you were ever the friendly and kind person you made yourself out to be. You still tried to talk to him on the occasions he passed by you, still tried to get to know him without judgement or bias. Ignoring you completely just seemed to make the situation worse for him, so he finally had to face his newfound feelings and accept that yes, he, Shigaraki, had a crush on the new recruit for the League.

But with the acknowledgement of those feelings came another realization: as much as he cared about you, he could potentially hurt you with his quirk. Even if you returned the feelings, further disaster could ensue because of his existence, and that fact stung like no other. All he wanted- no, all he needed -was you. Your touch, your laugh, your whole essence...there was no part of you he didn’t like. He spent nights dreaming of your soft lips, of embracing you from behind and pressing kisses to the top of your head, of loving you without worry and limitations, and yet, he couldn’t have you. The world was continuously cruel to him still, relentless and ever inventive in the ways it found to torture his soul. You, on the other hand...you were the only good thing he had to hold on to in this desolate place.

As Tomura paced the wooden floors of the bar, he brought a hand to his neck, the familiar itching sensation driving him to scratch the same spot over and over again. He hated that damn habit of his, though truthfully he didn’t think he could stop. It kept him sane, gave him something to focus on other than the murky anxiety he felt welling up inside of him. He was like this whenever you were gone, but more so today than ever; he couldn’t stand knowing you weren’t here in his line of sight, that you weren’t under his protecting and watchful eye. Currently, you were on recon with Dabi and Toga, and he had a sinking feeling that something was wrong. His gut lurched whenever he thought about you, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until you were back at the bar in your usual seat, your familiar smile spread over your lips as you sipped on your favorite drink.

“Kurogiri. Any word from them?” This was the second time he had asked about you and the other two LOV members today. His patience was running out now, and he just wanted you back.

“They’re due back at any time, now. I’m sure they’re alri-”

As if fate wanted to prove the bartender wrong, the door to the hideout blew open mid sentence, and Dabi stumbled in with your unconscious form slumped over his shoulders, Toga hot on his heals behind.

“What happened?” Tomura growled out, immediately making his way toward you.

“Recon gone wrong, that’s what,” Dabi quipped. “We got spotted by some heroes on accident, not our fault. Y/N fended them off but she overused her quirk, and they almost got her.”

“Don’t worry, I sliced them up real nice! They were no match against my pretty knives...” Toga trailed off, a murderous glint in her eyes as she brandished a clean knife to look at herself in it’s reflection. “And I saved Y/N. I made sure to teach them not to touch what’s ours, Tomura! No one can have Y/N but us!” She let out a demented giggle.

Shigaraki wanted to correct her. Not ours, mine, he thought. His possessiveness got the better of him, and one look at Toga’s intense gaze was all he needed for jealousy to take root. He surged forward and seized your form from Dabi, careful not to touch you with all five fingers at once as he held you up. Dabi put up no fight in letting you go, completely understanding the situation and passing you over to his boss.

“Is she hurt?” he asked demandingly, giving you a once over for any obvious signs of distress or wounds. He found none apart from small scrapes and bruises.

“I don’t think so. Just unconscious. Side effect of her quirk, I bet.” His blue eyes stared off into the distance behind you and Tomura, gears spinning in his head as he recalled the fight from earlier. “I’ve never seen her quirk in action like that before. She’s strong, I’ll give her that.”

Of course you were strong, Tomura wanted to say. He knew the basis for your quirk, the basics of how it functioned and how it affected others, but new nothing of the drawbacks of it. This was new to everyone.

“Y/N’s quirk is so cool! Isn’t she just the best, Tomura?” 

Something about Toga’s smile annoyed him and made the itchy burning sensation return to his neck. Before anyone else could say anything, he turned abruptly and started towards your room to lay you down and let you rest.

“Kurogiri,” he called as he was leaving, “I want a full report of the recon mission later, no details spared. Make sure they understand that.”

“Of course,” he replied cooly.

Tomura supported your frame against his shoulders as he trudged down the hallway with you, every step he took careful and measured so as not to disturb you any more than was necessary. His gut feeling had turned out to be right, after all. If he had just gone with you, this wouldn’t have happened. Even better yet, if he had just kept you here with him, then you wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place. This was his fault, wasn’t it? It was hard to stop his thought process once it was started, and from there it all snowballed. You would never know how he really felt, and even if he was getting to touch you now, even if for a brief moment just to get you to your room, who’s to say something wouldn’t go wrong? What if he accidentally touched you with all five fingers, and you turned to ash right there in the hall, and died in his arms?

His thoughts were becoming too much to handle, even with you right there beside him. He was pathetic. Leader of a revolutionary and important group of misfit villains though he may be, he still wasn’t brazen enough to tell you how he really felt. And as he pushed open the door to your room and gently laid you down on your bed, he decided it was for the best if he just left you be. Even if he wanted to stay, it would do him no good. He gave you one last soft look and sighed heavily before standing. His brows knit together in frustration as he stepped forward, but a light tug on his sleeve kept him from going any further.

“Tomura...?” you mumbled groggily. “What happened?”

His self doubt slowly ebbed away at the sound of your voice, his anguish quieting for a moment as he down on your bed and met your gaze to explain. Who was he trying to fool? He could never just leave his feelings for you be. “You overused your quirk and fell unconscious. Dabi and Toga-” he shuddered involuntarily at her name, “took you back to the bar after fighting off some scum heroes.”

You sat up as he spoke, your head throbbing but otherwise feeling fine. “How did I end up in my room?” you wondered aloud, looking around to take in your surroundings fully.

“I carried you,” he answered matter of factly. 

He couldn’t be completely sure, but he swore a faint blush appeared on your cheeks then.

“Thanks for that.” You smiled kindly at him, warmth radiating from your features and making his face feel oddly hot.

“Oh, sure.” It sounded sarcastic, bitter even. Not how he wanted it to sound. He was getting frustrated again; why did he have to ruin everything he touched, figuratively and literally speaking?

There was a small lull in the conversation, and you unexpectedly reached your hand out for his, resting it on top and caressing his fingers gently in a sudden move of boldness. He recoiled almost instantly, and the next thing you knew he was moving to get up and walk away.

“Tomura, wait-” you tried, desperately wanting his attention. He did pause, but he didn’t turn around, and once again his hand found it’s way to his neck. He really was getting irritated with himself. 

“What?” he snapped, pivoting on his heel to face you.

“I’m sorry, I think I misinterpreted something...I- I didn’t mean to...” you trailed off, the dejected tone in your voice stabbing through his cold heart. “I thought you were-”

His blood ran cold at what he thought you were trying to say. Surely you couldn’t mean... 

“Thought I was what?”

“I thought- No, I think it was just me hoping this whole time, but...I thought maybe you had...feelings...for me. You seemed so concerned a minute ago, and there was that moment where your face- Um, I could see it behind your hair-” You stuttered out your words, embarrassed to admit your feelings that you were now certain he did not reciprocate.

Tomura, on the other hand, wasn’t sure what to say. You had just openly expressed your feelings for him while believing at the same time that he didn’t feel the same for you, and he hated it. He hated it with all the burning fires in the world, with all the passion and drive he had left. And the worst part about it was that it was his fault. He should have told you. He wished he had told you. He could still tell you...but he wouldn’t. Not if it meant endangering your life, not if it meant that he could potentially hurt you. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

Lucky for him, you weren’t willing to let this go so easily.

You saw the tortured look on his face, saw the longing in his eyes and the way his fingers twitched, as if he wanted to reach back out to you. With newfound resolve, you stared him down, willing him to break.

“Don’t look at me like that, damn it.” Curse you. Damn you to hell and back. You did things to him that you had no idea about. 

“So you really don’t feel the same?” you pressed, doubt creeping back up your spine. 

Maybe you were wrong after all...

“It’s not that!”

Or maybe not.

“Then what-”

“Don’t you know I could kill you?” The words left his lips before he could stop them. “I could accidentally turn you to dust, Y/N. Doesn’t that scare you? Or are you really that stupid?”

“I know that.” You spoke with conviction, understanding finally dawning on you.

He was afraid to hurt you. That had been his reason for pushing you away, for not talking to you, for trying to ignore his feelings for you. He was scared. And rightfully so, with a quirk like his. The thought had crossed your mind before, but truthfully, it hadn’t really been anything more than a passing thought. Once you really got to know Shigaraki, once you saw him leading his small family, you had put all of your trust and faith into him. He was not to be laughed at or underestimated; he was calculated, thorough, and kept his family together at all costs. Even if Dabi sometimes was unruly, even if Toga creeped him out, even if Kurogiri failed sometimes, they all belonged together, and you were happy to be a part of that. You admired him for everything he had done, everything he was currently doing, and all of the great things he would do in the future. Maybe others couldn’t see it right at the moment...but this man was going to change the world.

“But I believe in you, and I trust you would never do something like that to me, even on accident. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not. Your quirk doesn’t scare me. I mean it. And another thing,” you gave him a pointed look. “I’m not stupid,” you spat defiantly. For someone so reserved most of the time, you sure had an iron will. 

Tomura followed you with his eyes as you got up and attempted to walk over to him, but tripped in the process, still a little out of it from the overuse of your quirk. He was quick to catch you before you could hit the ground, and you smiled up at him once more while he just stared back at you, confused.

“What are you grinning like that for, hm?”

“I told you I trusted you. You didn’t turn me to dust, did you?”

“That’s not funny, Y/N.” Although, his words were all bark and no bite. What you had said was true, and it gave him a bit of relief to think that you were right.

He could make this work, after all. And for the first time in a very, very long time, Tomura Shigaraki felt calm. 

He helped you back to bed and sat down with you again, this time planning to stay. And when your hand once again found his, he let you keep it there, enjoying the warm feeling of your touch. 

“I know it’s not. I’m serious. I trust you with every fiber of my being, Tomura. I think I love you.”

He could have sworn his heart stopped, or maybe it was time itself that stopped. Either way, he never wanted this moment to end.

Instead of returning your words with his own, he layed down next to you and draped an arm over you. “You should be resting.”

You had once heard that everyone had different ways of saying ‘I love you’. For some, it was telling you to stay safe when parting. For others, it was asking if you had anything to eat yet. So when he spoke, you recognized the meaning behind Tomura’s words even if he wasn’t saying it outright. 

‘You should be resting.’

I love you, too.

A/N: WOW OKAY THIS GOT LONG. Also, I’m so, so, SO sorry this took so freaking long to finish. I literally sat down tonight and told myself I was going to work on it, and I got hit with inspiration and BAM it happened. Shigaraki is actually not on my list of characters that I write for, but because it was my first request and I wanted a challenge, I made an exception and wrote it. And damn, anon, did you give me one hell of a challenge. Holy FUCK. Idk why this was so hard to crank out before now, but I’m kind of in love with this? I hope you all like it as much as I do!

[nothisis-ridiculous]

Duplicity

An AU where Kaidan joins Cerberus for the events of ME2.

Chapter Eight: Visitors

"You could have changed first," Mary's eyes flickered to the man, "it would have made a better impression."

This was the Commander on her best behavior, attempting not to scorn the man she once loved. The man that had carried her broken body from the field and into safety. The man that blushed and rubbed at his forehead under her scrutiny, unconsciously buying himself further slack with a motion that brought her back to the old days. She thought reaching him was impossible then; now it was somewhere between impossible and a nightmare. The dissonance firing off in her skull was astounding, painful.

"I was worried about," he choked out, in the husky tone that made her heart flutter, " you."

"We should worry more about ourselves- really, Kaidan? Mouthing off to the Illusive Man?"

Honestly, she was proud of him. Other than the one time he killed a superior, he was quite mellow toward most authority figures. The point value tripled because it was toward the Cerberus ring leader. His hand rubbed the back of his neck, fiddling a while before he would answer.

"Commander, the writing's on the wall here- he sent you... us into a trap. It was negligent at best, he could have easily told us. Given us a chance to prepare-"

"Leave that sort of thing to the three billion dollar asset."

"Four billion," Kaidan smirked, "that also happens to have a death wish."

Mary's eyes fluttered away, losing her will to act brave. Her heart was allowed to fear for another, "maybe I was aiming for you."

His dark eyebrow raised.

"Besides, I can at least try to end my life in the way I see fit."

It was a harsh kickback from the moment of vulnerability. It was too easy for her to return to a level of comfort with Kaidan; why wouldn't it be easy? They had spent nearly a year together more than enough time to grow close, to learn all the ticks and what they meant. Plus, she was bitter. Angry, he had a part in bringing her back to this fucked reality. One where she was shackled to Cerberus. Where her autonomy was a fading illusion, Mary was trapped, and rattling at the bars wasn't enough. Whether it was the nuclear option or falling into submission wasn't entirely clear, both paths still fought.

His other eyebrow joined, creasing toward the center. Reflexively frowning at Shepard's insinuation, a hand returning to massage at his temple, he had no defense. Nothing that would change her mind anyway. He loved her; that was obvious. He couldn't stand to lose her, but he had already told her that. It was in the galaxy's best interest to have her around and kicking Reaper ass, in that there was no doubt. Mumbling and fumbling over words wouldn't budge the Commander. There was no reason even to attempt such a thing.

"I won't apologize for bringing you back."

"What about working for Cerberus?" Mary spat.

Kaidan barked, the aggressive tone an accidental exhaling of emotion, "did Chakwas or Joker get this lecture too? Or is it just me?"

"Does it matter?"

"So Joker gets a warm welcome, you end up drunk with Chakwas, and I end up dodging crates? How is that fair?" he questioned with folded arms.

"They didn't see what they did first hand," she reeled, "they... you... didn't... you knew they killed my unit. You met Toombs."

"And hearing about it wasn't enough?"

Mary's throat bobbed, "it's different."

"Don't BS me, Commander," he retorted sternly, "we're way past that."

"I expected better of you."

"Why? Why just me?"

"You're a good man, Kaidan. I don't like being wrong," Mary went cold, folding her arms over herself, "I don't like thinking I misjudged you."

"Let me get this right...because of our relationship, you expect me to live up to a lofty standard?"

"Hardly lofty. Terrorist organization hardly seems your style," Mary's eyes barbed him with daggers.

"Yet you stick with them."

"What choice do I have? Can I just leave? They've brought in everyone I care about, the Illusive Man has already proved he doesn't mind using anyone connected to me as bait," she looked away, "I'm trapped here."

Kaidan lowered his arms, daring to close a portion of the distance between them. He wanted to assure her, to assuage Mary that she was not the only one caged. It wasn't the time, "I felt the same way when the Council... the Alliance threw me aside. Knowing the Reapers are coming is terrible stuff. Instead of waiting around, I did something."

"You went too far, Kaidan."

"The same could have been said when we mutinied."

"We didn't experiment on people."

"Yeah, Cerberus has a lot to answer for," Kaidan retreated.

Mary didn't answer, watching him coldly. He was sure if she could move from that bed she would have decked him hard on the way out. But she was stuck- tied to the bed by medical tape. She seemed in fine condition to anyone else, but he could see the subtle wince when her breath drew too deep, or her volume grew too loud. Kaidan knew Mary better than anyone.

"What am I supposed to say, Mary? Surviving tore me apart. You, you already know what happened at first, but I had the chance to do something. To fight against what I knew was about to happen," Kaidan stepped forward, "maybe we'll never be what we were. But don't judge me, and let me help. I know how this looks-"

The biotic finally dared to meet her gaze- just in time to watch the tears spring from her eyes," just stop," Mary pleaded, looking at anything else that could distance her, "it may have been two years for you, I get it. You've mourned me. It's only been a few weeks, I felt myself die... just to wake up, and everything is... different. I'm still not sure if I'm in hell or not. Cerberus wasn't even a place I'd be in my nightmare."

Mary's bright eyes suddenly caught him, "and you're with them."

Kaidan moved forward, a hand extended as the Commander curled into herself, pulling up the blanket in vain, hoping it would hide her. Sheild her from the vulnerability she was not willingly presenting. It leaked, and it was unfair of him to take advantage of her. In a previous time her guard would have dropped; now she fought to keep it up—only a part of her struggle to keep sane in this new life. His hovering arm dropped, retreating several paces to force himself to stop.

"I didn't want to believe it," Kaidan stalled, looking at his feet, "but I've been thinking, realized that some of these people are good people. Maybe misguided, but... good."

Mary nodded, keeping her head turned away from him.

"Look, I didn't come here to lecture you," Kaidan sent over a dossier from his omnitool, "I brought some good news. If pulling in someone else we know into this mess is good news."

She shook her arm free of the blanket, the orange illumination of her face revealing a subtle shift in her state. The corner of her lip pulling up after the initial pass of regret filtered over her face, at least the tears he should do nothing about slowed to a trickle.

"There are more dossiers, but I knew this one would be most the important."

"Send them over."

Mary scanned the other two, far more passive in her reading of the other potential members of her crew. This was his cue to leave, so he moved to do just that.

"Just be more careful next time," Mary murmured, following his path out of the medical bay.

Kaidan paused, nodding before ducking out of sight.

~~~

"Thanks Shepard, I will," Liara smiled warmly.

"I'll talk to you later, Li Li," Mary stood, acknowledging Miranda's sideways look with a lop-sided smile. Trotting down the stairs from the administrator's office.

"Jealous, Lawson?"

"No, I-" Miranda smiled nervously, "you aren't going to let this go, are you?"

"Not until I find the perfect nickname."

"Oh god," Miranda muttered, massaging her temples, "Miri and nothing else will be acceptable."

"Really?" Mary prodded but gently offering concern rather than utter mirth.

"Is it not embarrassing enough?"

The Commander grinned smugly, "no, it's just-"

"Just what?" Miranda blew with hands moving to her perfect hips.

Mary didn't avoid the conversation out of pettiness- Joker's voice drowned out the moment, pulling away from the lightness of her mood.

"Shepard, we, uh, have a visitor? Some Kai Leng he claims to be Cerberus."

"You let him on the ship?"

"Let is not the word I'd use."

"And everything was going so well," Garrus quipped, the quicker of her companions to read the shift of Shepard's energy.

"Mr. Moreau is correct, Mr. Leng is here on the Illusive Man's orders," EDI pipped in, "I had to let him in."

"You better hurry; he already pissed off Tali."

"I'm on my way, Joker."

"A stowaway problem, Shepard?" Garrus asked with a cock of his head.

"Miri," it was too grave for a lighthearted nickname, "do you know a Kai Leng?"

"That bastard."

Mary cocked her head, her smile fading into a frown, "Miranda?"

"This isn't good news, Shepard. He's the Illusive Man's personal pet," she spat.

"Threat level?"

"Ten."

Mary picked up her pace to the Normandy, ignoring the sideways glances and concerned looks she received. The doors to the ship were open for her, and an over-the-shoulder call from Joker directed the party to the shuttle bay. The elevator felt like it took centuries, and neither of her companions wanted to say a word. Not even a half ignored news clip to pass the time. Leaving her to claw at her vambrace, annoyed to be tramping through her ship in unclean armour. It was a minor detail, but she hated bringing unnecessary germs onto the belly of her ship. She had a quarian to consider.

As if that was her greatest worry at the moment.

Mary stormed into the cargo bay, surprised to find three figures, and notably the lack of a certain Quarian. The krogan presence was less of a surprise, if there was a fight Grunt would find it. With his space overlooking the bay, he didn't have to pry, and furthermore, Jack's latest biotic blast wasn't easily ignored.

"If you think I'm letting you take me now," Jack heaved, dodging a projectile and returning a side-stepped shockwave, "you're fucking wrong!"

"Jack!" Mary screamed, breaking the biotic's concentration, and then her head swiveled to the stranger, "you must be Kai Leng."

"Shepard," the dark-haired stranger drawled, sending an instinctive shiver down her spine.

She wouldn't be intimidated, ignoring the gnawing sense this man would as quickly kill her as he would shake her hand, but it couldn't stop the protect folding of her arms over her chest, "why are you tormenting my crew?"

"Lawson," he continued, the smug smile leaving as he examined the turian, "and this must be the one known as Archangel."

Mary stepped in to partially block his view of Garrus. She knew that look.

The mixed heritage man extended out his hand- Mary had never wanted to do anything less, but this was a power move. Declining would give him the literal and figurative upper hand. Fuck, his grip was tight, overbearing.

"I was sent here to help; after all, the fate of humanity is resting on your shoulders," Shepard felt the omitted words from his saccharine tone.

"I don't need the kind of help that torments my crew."

"I corrected your blatant disregard for Cerberus' confidentiality."

A chuckle escaped Garrus's airway, on inspection, Miri sported a fleeting smirk. Spurring Mary on to laugh in his face, "yeah, from stolen Alliance and Turian designs."

"This wasn't part of the deal, Shepard," Jack butted in.

"You'll get those files back."

"Will you?"

"You'll learn soon enough that Shepard gets her way, Leng."

Kai Leng took his turn to chortle, "so quick to betray Cerberus, Miss Lawson?"

Miranda exhaled slowly, "what's the harm in a few classified files," her tone almost defeated. Mary and Jack meeting each other with a curious look.

"I'm sure you can find your way to temporary quarters?" Mary returned her attention to the stranger, "The Illusive Man and I need to have a chat in the meantime."