#I think y'all have learned that it's very easy to wind me up and let me go when it comes to talking about shit

[imaginespazzi]

Here's To Eternity

Four times Paige brings up marriage and the one time Azzi finally says yes.

(In which an angst writer attempts to write fluff and it takes her far longer than it should have)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: mainly Fluff with a little bit of Angst

Words: 8K (I swear it was meant to be below 5K when I planned it)

TW: Implied sexual content, alcohol, swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3. Gonna do this at the beginning instead of the end today. This took years off my life and I still don't fully love it but I'm tired of thinking about it so hopefully y'all still like it. Really quickly, I've never been to Minnesota or the state fair so if you have, pretend you do not see the likely factual inaccuracies. Also feel free to let me know what you don't like because as I've said, I don't really write fluff well so by all means call me out. And finally, I edited this I swear but I'm sure there are still mistakes, so let me know about those too. Anyways, I hope this is a good pre-game read and let's get another W!

i don’t know what love is (i’d learn for you) 

The first time Paige says it, they’re at the Minnesota State Fair. It’s all the way back when they’re just two young girls learning each other, carefree and completely unaware that this will become a tradition. They’ve barely known each other but being with Azzi already feels easy, natural, like home. And she doesn’t really know how she knows it, it’s just a feeling really, but Paige is convinced that Azzi’s meant to be in her life forever. 

They’ve been at the fair almost all day, with members of both of their families joining them here and there. Paige and Azzi had been competing at various arcade games all day, keeping a tally of who won which arcade game. They’d even turned going on rides into a competition of “who could hold in their screams the longest”. Their bickering, while endearing, had earned them more than a few fond eye rolls as their families eventually got bored of being third wheels and went on to find something more engaging. 

They’d intentionally left the pop-a-shot, a basketball arcade game, til the very end, knowing it would be the ideal tie-breaker. And as the day comes to an end, they are in fact very much tied although Paige will tell you, that she didn’t actually scream on the Skyscraper; it had merely been a quiet whimper that Azzi was exaggerating the volume of. And Azzi will tell you that she deserved a re-do on the ring toss because it wasn’t her fault that the wind had decided to pick up on that very moment. Ultimately both of their arguments had fallen on deaf ears when they had appealed their cases to some very exasperated family members. 

“Get ready to lose to the better shooter,” Paige gloats, rubbing her hands together in preparation to shoot. She’d lost two rounds of rock paper scissors to Azzi’s one, meaning she’d missed the chance to go second like she would have preferred but that hadn’t done much to deter her confidence. 

“We’ll see,” Azzi scoffs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms as she stands back a little bit to give Paige the space she needs. 

Paige smirks at her friend as she shoots the ball, definitely showing off a little bit. The ball arcs in the air before swishing into the basket, all net and no rim. The blonde’s grin only widens as she repeats the motion, again and again and again. She gets eight of them in perfectly, the ninth hits the backboard but rolls in and then-

“You missed,” Azzi yells the minute the last ball is out of Paige’s hands and they both watch, one in excitement, the other in irritation, as the ball falls miserably far away from the net. 

“That’s not fair,” Paige turns around immediately, “you distracted me. That doesn’t even count.”

“Nuh uh, we didn’t set a no distracting rule and I only said something after you released it. I already knew you were gonna miss,” Azzi counters gleefully. 

“Bruh, how could you have possibly known that?”

“Because my basketball IQ is way beyond yours,” it’s Azzi’s turn to smirk as she bumps Paige in the hip, switching spots so she can take her turn. 

“You’re still gonna lose. I made nine, you’re barely gonna make,” Paige pretends to think, “hmm maybe seven”

Azzi doesn’t respond, choosing instead to reply by immediately making her first basket. Her arc is perfect as always, the same shot Paige had been awed by when they’d been at camp for USA basketball. She makes the next and the next and the one after that until she’s at her 10th shot, ready to go a perfect 10 for 10 and beat Paige. Maybe it’s the competitiveness or maybe Paige has lost her goddamn mind, but she barely registers the next words that come out of her mouth. 

“If you make the last shot, you have to marry me,” and it’s supposed to be a threat, a way to stop Azzi from making the last bucket and winning their silly little competition but it comes out giddy and breathless. 

“What?” Azzi asks, eyes wide as she turns around to face Paige and well, she’s said them now, Paige might as well own them. 

“You heard me,” Paige says, cocking her head, the arrogance in her voice a complete contrast to the rapid beating of her heart, “you make that shot, and we’re engaged. Or you don’t make it and you lose.”

Azzi’s eyes narrow, confusion melting away to a familiar fierceness.  The thing is, she knows she could miss it if she wanted to but the thought of losing is somehow worse than being engaged at fourteen. She tries not to dwell on why that idea doesn’t seriously frighten her, telling herself it’s because there’s no way Paige will ever hold her to that. Taking a deep breath, Azzi lifts up her hands and shoots the ball. 

Here’s the thing, Paige likes winning. She enjoys the effort that goes into getting a win and the satisfaction that follows after. But as the ball leaves Azzi’s hand, that same perfect arc, she thinks, maybe it would be okay if Azzi made this basket today. She thinks maybe it would be okay if she lost. Both girls wait with bated breath, as the ball hits the backboard and circles the rim. For a brief second, it seems like it might slide off the edge but it doesn’t. It falls into the net with a swish and Azzi wins. 

The brunette lets out a squeal of happiness as the arcade game lights up with “WINNER”, doing a happy dance and flipping her hair. And Paige is so mesmerized by Azzi’s infectious happiness, the fact that she’s just lost ceases to mean anything. She doesn’t know what this feeling is, isn’t quite ready to understand it, but she knows it’s slowly creeping up her veins and consuming every part of her. 

“What prize would you like honey,” the middle-aged woman running the booth asks, pointing to the assortment of gifts sitting in a booth next to the game. Azzi pulls a still-stunned Paige with her to get a closer look at the prizes, eyes roaming over all the fun things until they finally settle on one of them. 

“I’ll take that packet of rings,” she gives Paige a devilish smirk, "I think I just got engaged.”

Paige gapes at Azzi while the woman fetches the packet of rings that Azzi had chosen. As far as fake jewelry goes, the rings are kind of atrocious. Huge colorful stones are placed haphazardly on a silver ring that looks like it might rust the next seconds. Azzi picks out a pink one and hands it to Paige, before holding out her hand. Still slightly dazed by everything, Paige does as she’s gestured to and slips the ring onto Azzi’s ring finger. And she’s sure she must be going insane because the ugly ring looks quite pretty on Azzi’s slender fingers. 

“You better get me a real one eventually,” Azzi says and she’s joking, Paige knows that but she can’t help the part of her that takes it at face value, the part of her that subconsciously promises Azzi to get her a real one eventually. She’s only fifteen and she’s sure she doesn’t know what love is but standing here in the cool Minnesota summer breeze, getting fake engaged to a girl she feels like she’s known her whole life, Paige thinks, maybe she’d like to learn. 

2. crossing boundaries (taking leaps of faith)

The second time Paige says it, they’ve crossed a line in their friendship and she kind of wants to cross a couple more. By this point, Paige is pretty sure she’s at least a little in love with her best friend. It had been okay when she’d first got to UConn, the distance between them allowing Paige to ignore her feelings that had become unbearably intense over the covid year she’d spent with the Fudds. And then the thing she’d worked her ass off to make happen had happened and Azzi had come to UConn. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy to have Azzi here. With her being injured for most of her sophomore season, there’s no one else Paige would have rather had by her side through it all. It was the playing platonic that drove her a little insane. Because somewhere between the arguing over nothing and the talking about everything, Azzi had stopped being her best friend and had become something more. 

It all comes to a head during a mid-April night at Ted’s. They’re partially still in mourning for their national championship loss and so it’s not really a surprise that the team is perhaps a little freer with the alcohol than they normally are. It’s definitely the alcohol that has Paige seething in jealousy at Azzi nonchalantly flirting with some random girl who had had the nerve to buy the brunette a drink. And it’s definitely the alcohol that makes her march over angrily and squeeze herself between the two girls. But it might be a little much to blame the half a glass of spiked shirley Paige had had for the way she wraps her arms around Azzi’s waist, leaning into the younger girl’s personal space in a way that is decidedly not platonic.

“Hi love,” she whispers, blinking her eyes up at a rather confused Azzi, who despite said confusion, doesn’t push her away. Instead, Azzi’s arms circle around Paige’s neck. It’s muscle memory really. But now they’re far closer than appropriate for two best friends and Paige swears she can make out every detail on Azzi’s face. Her eyes fixate on Azzi’s throat as the darker-skinned girl swallows, a sign of nervous anticipation, and she fights the visceral urge to bite down on Azzi’s neck and leave a mark so permanent, no other girl would ever have the audacity to look at what’s hers. 

“Oh, I didn’t know,” she hears the offending flirt say.

“Well now you do,” Paige replies before Azzi can respond, keeping her eyes focused on the girl in front of her, “she’s not interested.”

The sound of feet scurrying away makes Paige smirk. Azzi raises her eyes but doesn’t make a move to pull away. 

“You looked like you needed help,” the blond lies blatantly, “and I’m nothing if not helpful.”

“Is that what you were doing? Trying to be helpful?” Azzi asks, a coy smile playing on her lips as she presses closer to Paige, “because I could have sworn you were jealous.”

Paige’s breath hitches as she focuses on the way Azzi says those words, the way her lips quirk and her eyes sparkle, because it’s not the alcohol this time, no she’s pretty damn sure Azzi’s flirting with her. The realization sets her heart ablaze and she grips Azzi’s waist even tighter, trying to find something stable to hold onto. 

“And if- if I was-  if I was jealous, then what?”

“I’d tell you, you didn’t really have a reason to be. She wasn’t really my type.”

“Yeah,” Paige can’t help but smirk, suddenly feeling a surge of confidence, “what is your type Azzi?”

Azzi hums, her shy smile a response in itself. They’re so close now, with their chests pressed up against each other, that Paige can hear the erratic thrum of Azzi’s heart beating. It’s comforting in a way, to know that she has the effect on Azzi too, that she’s the reason Azzi’s breathing is so uneven. Subconsciously, Paige leans in, eyes tracing the outline of Azzi’s lips, her entire body wracked with want. 

“Azzi,” she whispers, knocking her forehead against the other girl’s, “tell me to stop.” 

Anticipation burns against Paige’s skin, the feeling of finally racing through her body. She’s hypnotized by the way they seem to be breathing as one. Her eyes close of their own accord and she can almost feel the taste of Azzi’s lips when the brunette presses a gentle hand against her chest. 

“Stop,” Azzi whispers. 

Paige’s eyes fly open. Stung, she lets go of Azzi’s waist immediately, the tears ready to fall. She’d been so sure she’d read the moment right-

“Hey, hey no Paige wait,” Azzi scrambles to grab onto the blonde, fully aware of the panic that has settled into the other girl's bones, “I didn’t- I just- I didn’t mean it like that. I- fuck sorry, I don’t- I want-” she takes in a deep breath, her brain unable to speak her mind, “I want to kiss you, I do- I just don’t want our first kiss to be in front of all these people.”

The last part is a little mumbled but Paige hears it clear as day. She gapes at her best friend, not sure if she wants to shake her or jump her bones (both, definitely both). 

“You couldn’t have just said that?” Paige asks exasperatedly, “I don’t really take rejection well in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I panicked, you were so close and I was distracted,” Azzi rambles incoherently and Paige is so ridiculously endeared by this girl. 

“Azzi,” she says slowly, stepping back into the younger girl's space, and holding out a hand, “you wanna get out of here?”

She’s rewarded with a bright smile and Azzi  grabbing her outstretched hand with no hesitation. As the two of them make their way through the crowd, hands locked together, Paige can’t think of a moment where she’s felt this ecstatic. They stumble through the street towards their apartments, giggling like kindergarteners who’ve just been given a sweet treat. After a year, longer, of holding it in, Paige feels like she’s finally free. 

They’ve barely made it to Paige’s room, before she has Azzi pinned against the wall causing the younger girl to let out an audible gasp. It’s sinful the way she looks up at Paige, as if she’d do anything for her. And god Paige wants to find out just how much she can push that. 

“Tell me to stop,” Paige repeats her words from the bar, her right thumb coming up to  lightly caressing Azzi’s bottom lip. She’s giving her an out, a last chance before they cross a line in their friendship that they’ll never be able to uncross. But her words evoke a new fire in Azzi’s eyes and Paige just knows. 

“Absolutely not.”

She’s not sure who kisses who first, doesn’t really care but she knows she’s never felt anything quite like this. It’s something beyond sparks, something more exciting, yet something ever so calming. All she knows is she wants more. Her hands roam everywhere, moving from Azzi’s neck, to her arms, to her hips before moving even lower. And Azzi fucking whimpers, the sound of it causing Paige to press even harder against her. She pulls away and Azzi chases her lips for a second, before Paige attaches them to the younger girl’s neck instead. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this,” Paige manages to get out, biting against Azzi’s skin. She means to be soft, she really does but all she can think about is leaving a mark, a possessive bruise that would make sure everyone knew not to touch what was hers.

“Not longer than me,” Azzi’s hands are tangled in Paige's hair and she’s putty in the older girl’s hand. Paige could ask anything of her, and Azzi’s sure, she’d give it to her in a heartbeat. 

“I’m gonna make it worth the wait,” Paige pants, moving away from the brunette’s neck to kiss her again, “I promise.”

“Gonna show me what the hype is about?” Azzi says cheekily, as Paige pulls her onto the bed. She climbs on top of the blond, straddling her thighs. 

“Gonna show you even better,” Paige whispers and Azzi shivers at the promise in her voice. And then Paige’s lips her on hers again, desperate and impatient. Her hands work meticulously as she unbuttons Azzi’s blouse, leaving the young girl’s upper body bare. Azzi can't help the insecurity that creeps into her when Paige stares at her like that, like she’s seeing her for the first time. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Paige says, erasing away the doubt, “fuck, marry me.”

Paige doesn’t know why that slips out, doesn’t know why it rolls off her tongue so smoothly, doesn’t know why it doesn’t feel like a completely preposterous thing to say at the moment. 

“You say that to all your hookups?” Azzi asks slowly. It’s said light-heartedly enough but the hints of doubt aren’t hard to catch. In one swift motion, Paige flips them so that Azzi’s lying underneath her. Using her elbows, she hovers over the younger girl, making sure she can see the sincerity in her eyes. 

“No, no I don't. And you,” she says pointedly, needing Azzi to understand how she feels, “are not a hookup.”

Azzi smiles, arms wrapping around Paige’s neck, “maybe take me out on a date first and then we can talk about marriage.”

“Yeah, yeah I will but,” Paige grins devilishly, fingers dancing around the waistband of Azzi’s jeans, “I think I’ll fuck you first.

3. on the brink of destruction (maybe you’ll catch me)

The third time Paige says it, she’s desperately trying to save them from falling apart. They’ve always known this moment would come, known it even before they’d known each other. To play in the WNBA had always been the end-goal for both of them and it should be the happiest moment of their lives with both of them being guaranteed first-round picks who were likely to make a roster. But the whole thing comes with the caveat, that for the first time in almost four years, Paige and Azzi will have to learn to live apart from each other. 

Paige hadn’t even considered that it would mean they’d have to break up. The whole season, despite a thousand and one conversations about the draft, the idea hadn’t once been brought up. Long distance would be difficult, Paige knew that, but she’d figured they’d tackle it in the same way they’d faced everything else: together. Apparently Azzi thought differently. Apparently Azzi had been thinking about it for a while and last night, when she’d finally said the words out loud, Paige’s whole world had fallen off balance. She’d tried interrupting but once Azzi had her mind set on something, it was hard to deter her.

It’s been less than 24 hours since and KK and Ice have done everything in their power to distract her but Paige can’t stop thinking about it. If she hadn’t known Azzi for as long as she had, then maybe she would have believed the façade of coldness and practicality that her girlfriend had put on. She had spoken as if she was negotiating the end of a contract, her face set firmly on neutral. But Paige had seen the way she was fidgeting uncontrollably with the hem of her shirt, heard the little crack in her voice when she’d said the actual words out loud. 

“Was she at breakfast?” Paige asks, interrupting whatever spiel KK had been going on. The sophomore gives her a look that veers between irritation and sympathy. 

“Dude, we weren’t even at breakfast. We ate with you up here, remember?”

“Right,” Paige says, mindlessly thumbing at her sheets. She’s in unfamiliar territory, trying to navigate a world without Azzi. She can’t even remember the last morning she’d had that didn’t start with some form of communication with her girlfriend, a good morning kiss or a text or a call. 

“Y’all are being stupid,” Ice supplies unhelpfully. 

“Don’t even start,” Paige quips back defensively, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Maybe that’s the issue,” KK’s report is met with a well-aimed pillow in her direction. 

“Can you guys maybe just take my side for once please?”

“Children of divorce don’t choose sides,” Ice says solemnly. She has the foresight to duck and Paige’s water bottle hits the wall with a resounding thud, “aye no violence.”

“Fuck off and go away,” Paige groans, burying her face in her hands. 

“This is literally my room,” Ice replies and KK snickers. 

“I’m so glad my misery amuses you guys.”

Before either of the two underclassmen can reply, a familiar voice resounds around the room and Paige’s heart almost beats out of her chest. It’s been less than 24 hours but fuck, she’s missed the sound of it.

“Ice do you have- oh.”

“Hi Azzi,” KK says enthusiastically and Paige can already picture the forced smile Azzi gives her. She hates that stupid smile. 

“Hey KK. I- uh, Ice I was looking for the  necklace you borrowed. I- uh wanted to wear it with my dress for the draft, but umm- it’s- it’s fine. I’ll come back later.”

Paige scoffs, suddenly annoyed. She lifts her head from her hands and Azzi’s already looking at her but the minute their eyes meet, she looks away. It only irritates Paige further. 

“It’s fine Az. I can get it for you now,” Ice says, hopping up and rummaging through one of her. 

“No it’s fine, I should go. I have to go do…something.”

“You’re such a fucking liar,” Paige says before she can stop herself. The awkwardness in the air changes to a sinister tension. KK and Ice wear identical expressions of shock and worry, looking back and forth between Paige and Azzi.

“Excuse me?” Azzi says eyes narrowing dangerously. 

“All that bullshit you said last night. You said we’d still be friends. You said it’d be like we used to be before. You said things wouldn’t change that much and this would be for the better. You said we’d be fine. But fucking hell Azzi, you can’t even stand to be in the same room as me right now,” tears prickle in her eyes and she can’t tell if they’re from anger or pain or frustration. 

“I-It will be okay. We’ll be fine, eventually,” Azzi pauses, struggling to get the words out, “I just- we just- we need time to learn how to be just friends again.”

“I don’t want to be just friends Azzi,” Paige spits. 

“Neither do I,” Azzi bursts out, hands clenching, “but we have to try.”

“Oh-kay,” KK cuts in, noticing the rise in voices, “just because Ice and I call ourselves children of divorce, doesn’t mean y’all have to act like an actual divorced couple. All this yelling is not good for my heart.”

“Shut up KK,” they snap at the same time, and KK immediately raises her hands in surrender. 

“Why,” Paige turns her attention back to Azzi, “why do we have to try? You don’t want to be just friends. I sure as shit don’t want to be just friends. So what’s the fucking point? When neither of us want this, why are we fucking doing this?”

“Because I’m scared okay?” Azzi yells, her eyes widening as the truth slips out. She immediately cups her mouth, her anger fading away. Tears pool at the corner of her eyes, as emotions she’d been trying so hard to push down, bubble to the surface. She sees the way Paige eyes soften, can feel the sympathy in the way KK and Ice are looking at her, but before any of them can say anything, her feet are moving, desperate to get away from them, from Paige. 

“Paige,” Ice hisses when the blond stays rooted in place, “move.”

It does the trick, shaking Paige out of her trance. She doesn’t need to be told twice. When she gets to Azzi’s room, she stops outside the door. The goal is to fix things but she’s so scared of damaging them further. Taking a deep breath, she lets herself in and is unsurprised to find Azzi pacing the length of the room. 

“You have ‘got to stop running away from me. I’m not as young as I used to be,” Paige jokes. She’s not expecting a smile in return, the situation is far too tense, but when Azzi looks at her with nothing but sadness, all the humour leaves her body. 

“Please leave me alone,” Azzi whispers,  “please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“You’re the one making this harder Az. We don’t have to do this,” Paige takes a step forward, groaning when Azzi immediately takes a step back. 

“We do because otherwise we’re gonna fall apart. You don’t see it but we’re gonna end up resenting each other because we miss each other so much,” Azzi says miserably, the tears freely falling now. 

“You think I’ll miss you less if you’re not my girlfriend? You think breaking up is going to stop us from falling apart?” Paige asks incredulously, “you know you’ve had some stupid ideas before Azzi, but this, this one might be the dumbest yet.”

“Well, do you have a better one?” Azzi asks, throwing her hands in the air. 

“Yes, let’s just get married instead! Then we’ll have to be stuck with each other for life and you can stop trying to break up with me,” and maybe it’s somewhat of an irrational thing to say but Paige finds that she means it.

“Paige,” Azzi grits out, “this is serious.”

“I’m being dead serious right now actually.”

“Marriage is not going to stop us from being drafted to different teams. It’s not gonna stop us from having to live in different states.”

“Neither is breaking up,” Paige yells. Frustrated, she marches over to Azzi, encircling her arms around the other girl who immediately struggles against Paige's hold but the blonde is in no mood to let this, whatever it is, go on any further. 

“Let me go-”

“No. It’s my turn to talk okay,” Paige says, tightening her grip, “get this through your head, we are not breaking up.”

She pinches Azzi’s waist when the younger girl tries to protest. Her girlfriend is nothing if not stubborn but so is Paige. 

“You know I barely slept last night? I’ve been so fucking miserable all day. I’ve spent every minute thinking about you, every minute missing you. And if we do this, that feeling of missing you and knowing I can’t have you, is how I’m going to feel for the rest of my life. And that, that might kill me. I know you think it’ll be easier being friends or whatever but I can’t do that Azzi. I can’t be your friend. I can’t be near you and not kiss you. I can’t call you and not tell you I love you,” Paige’s voice breaks near the end as tears begin to stream down her face. 

“I’m scared. I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose you,” Azzi confesses in a whisper and it’s heartbreaking how vulnerable the darker-skinned girl sounds. 

“Then don’t. Keep me and let me keep you. I know you're scared baby but,” Paige presses her forehead against Azzi’s, “but trust me Azzi, we’ll make it work okay. I need you to believe that. I need you to believe in us. Please Azzi, please.”

Azzi closes her eyes and Paige can almost see the cogs turning in her brain. Waiting for a decision is excruciating and the silence feels deafening as Paige’s intrusive thoughts drive her a little insane. 

“Okay,” Azzi breathes out finally, “okay we’ll try it your way. But if it doesn’t work-”

“It’s going to work,” Paige says determinedly. And finally, Azzi smiles, the real one that Paige loves. 

“It’s going to work,” she repeats back, leaning up to kiss Paige and letting out an ungraceful squawk when Paige dodges her lips, “excuse me.”

“You don’t get a kiss,” the older girl replies, moving out of reach and crossing her arms, “you just tried to break up with me. Twice.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whines, “please, I haven’t kissed you for hours.”

“And whose fault is that?” Paige accuses but there’s no true anger behind her words. 

Azzi pouts for a second before it’s replaced by a mischievous smirk. Before Paige can react, she jumps onto the blond, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck. The impact of it causes Paige to stumble back a little bit before her hands settle on Azzi's hips to keep them both stable. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Azzi babbles, kissing every inch of Paige’s face. 

“Okay, okay, okay, you’re forgiven.” Paige laughs. She’s never been particularly good at staying mad at Azzi. The knot in her chest, which’s been pressing against her ribcage since last night, finally unravels as Paige tugs Azzi closer, finally pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. A low wolf-whistle from the doorway breaks them apart far sooner than they’d have liked. 

“Y’all didn’t even last a whole 24 hours,” KK’s voice is amused but there’s a hint of relief hidden in it. 

“Should’ve closed the fucking door,” Paige grumbles as Azzi giggles into the crevice between her head and her neck. 

“That’s gotta be a record for shortest breakup ever or something,” and there’s Ice, looking equally as amused. 

“You know what that means though, parents are back together and,” KK smirks at Ice and Paige looks between the two of them questioningly, “you owe me 50 bucks.”

“Excuse me?” Paige asks with a raised eyebrow, although she’s pretty sure she already knows. 

“Ice said y’all would be broken up for a week. I gave y’all three days,” KK grins triumphantly, despite Ice giving her a dirty look. 

“I can’t believe you guys would bet on us,” Azzi shakes her head disapprovingly as she lifts her head, “actually no scratch that. I’m not surprised at all.”

“We were too generous with it though,” Ice gives them a knowing look, “can’t believe y’all thought you could survive for years.”

“Not y’all,” Paige corrects, “just Azzi.”

Azzi groans, “you’re never gonna let me forget this are you?”

“Nope,” Paige says happily, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s temple, who immediately grins. And everything in the world is right again. It’s not going to be easy being god knows how many miles apart, but Paige knows they’ll be fine. They have to be. She won’t let them be anything else. 

4. the high of it all (as long as you hold me)

The fourth time she says it, Paige doesn’t even fully remember it the day after. She won’t find out exactly what she’s said until a couple of years into the future when Azzi tells her the story with a fond look in her eye. It’s a month or so into their rookie seasons when their respective teams meet: the Lynx vs the Mystics, funny how that had worked out. So far, they’d both been doing well, locked in a competitive race for rookie of the year. As a result, their matchup is well-hyped, but no one’s more excited for it, than the two of them. 

The game ends with the Lynx winning and Paige shoots Azzi a victorious smirk which earns her a familiar eye roll. She loves winning always but this time there’s the additional reward of having her girlfriend back in her bed for the first time in weeks. The anticipation of it has her running her tongue across her lips, and with the way Azzi’s eyes glaze over, it’s clear they’re thinking the same thing. 

A couple of hours later, the Lynx team is spread out across one of the bars near their arena and Paige is definitely teetering on the edge of being drunk. She’d been a lot more reserved the other couple of times they’d done this, not wanting to take the chance of potentially embarrassing herself in front of her older teammates. But she feels freer tonight and the reason for it hasn't walked in yet.

“You two haven’t changed at all huh?” Dorka laughs, as she watches Paige pouting at the door. 

“Hey,” Paige whines, “I haven’t seen her in months! And now she’s taking too long.”

“One month,” Dorka corrects, shaking her head fondly, “and you talk to her every other hour.” 

“Same differ-”

“Hi,” an unfamiliar voice cuts Paige off, an auburn haired girl sliding into the stool next to her, “you’re Paige Bueckers?”

“Last time I checked,” Paige replies goofily, eyes still fixed on the front door. 

“I’m Shay. I’m a huge fan,” the stranger gushes, her smile radiant, “could I maybe get a picture?”

Never one to disappoint, especially not when she’s a little out of it, Paige nods. She wraps her arm casually around Shay’s shoulder, and makes a peace sign with her other hand as the other girl takes a selfie. 

“Thank you,” Shay takes a deep breath, “I uh, I was wondering if I could maybe get your num-”

“Babyyyyyy,” Paige lets out a shrill squeak as she spots her girlfriend finally entering the door. All else seems to fade away as the blonde practically skips towards her girlfriend. Dorka, who’d been watching the previous exchange, can’t help but give a very shell-shocked-looking Shay a sympathetic smile. 

“Hi babyyyy,” Paige croons again as she throws her arms around her girlfriend's neck, burying her face contentedly into Azzi’s neck. It doesn’t matter that she’s an inch or so taller than the younger girl, she fits in Azzi’s arms pretty perfectly. 

“Hi drunkie,” Azzi says fondly, brushing her hands through Paige’s hair and eliciting a happy sigh from the inebriated blond in her arms, “started without me I see.”

“You took too long and I was bored,” Paige says, snuggling further, her breath tickling against Azzi’s collarbone, making the younger girl’s breath hitch. Smirking, Paige bites down gently, knowing the exact effect it’ll have. Almost five years together, and the idea of marking her girlfriend still drives her a little insane. 

“Behave,” Azzi warns, her voice breathy, “we’re in public.”

“Then let’s get out of public,” Paige whispers as she caresses the mark she’s just left on Azzi’s throat with her tongue, clearly proud of her handiwork, “let me take you home.”

“I just got here babe,” it’s a weak response, they both know it. 

“So what?”

“I-,” Azzi stutters as Paige continues to pepper kisses into her neck, one of her hands sliding down to brush against Azzi’s exposed navel, “I haven’t even said hi to anyone else.”

“Are you here for anyone else? Or are you here for me?” 

It’s a blur how it happens, but one minute Paige is tucked under Azzi’s arms, the next Azzi finds herself pressed against the bar, Paige's hands barricading her. It's too dimly lit for anyone to be fully aware of what’s going on but Azzi desperately tries to stifle a moan when Paige shifts so that she’s filthily grinding against one of Azzi’s thighs, lips still attached to her neck. 

“Gonna make you feel so good baby. Gonna give you whatever you want. Gonna give you everything you need,” the blond promises, knowing, when Azzi’s eyes involuntarily close, that she’s close to getting what she wants, “just let me take you home.”

“Azzi!” The feeling of getting her way is short lived as Dorka’s voice echoes around them. Paige groans as her girlfriend’s eyes immediately fly open and she ducks under Paige arms to hug their old UConn teammate.

As the two other girls meet, Paige downs another drink, mumbling about “fucking Hungarians.”

“Ignore her,” Azzi rolls her eyes, still hugging Dorka, who lets out a laugh. 

“Alright that’s enough,” Paige frowns, pulling Azzi back into her so that her back is pressed against Paige’s chest, “go find your own Azzi to hug, this one’s mine and we’re leaving.”

Sober Paige does not get testy when Azzi hugs other people, especially not old teammates and friends, well not a lot anyway. But drunk Paige doesn’t like sharing her girlfriend, no matter how platonically that is. 

“Always so possessive Bueckers,” Dorka teases, but she complies  “it was good seeing you Az. Don’t be late to practice Paige.”

The blond point guard lets out a satisfied sigh, lacing her hands with Azzi’s, “see you’ve met people, now can we please go?”

“I’ve met one person,” Azzi rolls her eyes but doesn’t put up a fight as her girlfriend begins to pull her out of the bar. 

The uber ride back to Paige’s apartment is relatively silent with Paige tucking herself into Azzi, who can tell that despite her previous eagerness, her girlfriend is pretty likely to pass out the minute she lies down. It doesn’t matter really. Cuddles. Sex. Whatever. As long as it’s with Paige, Azzi loves every minute of it. Besides, there’s always tomorrow morning. 

“M’sorry, m’so tired,” Paige mumbles as she does exactly what Azzi had expected by flopping onto the bed the minute they tumble into the bedroom, “make it up to you tomorrow. I promise.”

The brunette shakes her head with a smile, taking both their shoes off, before lying down next to her girlfriend, who immediately curls into her, wrapping her arms around Azzi’s torso. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I missed you,” she whispers into Azzi’s skin, eyes closed. 

“Missed you too baby,” the darker skinned girl pressed a kiss onto her girlfriend’s forehead, squeezing her arm gently. 

There’s a pause and for a second Azzi thinks maybe Paige has fallen asleep until the next words come out her mouth and steal Azzi’s breath away. 

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Paige confesses in a whisper, “you’re gonna make the prettiest bride. We’re gonna have such a beautiful wedding. Outside. Maybe on a basketball court.  And Coach is gonna officiate it and everyone’s gonna be there. Our family, our friends and it’s gonna be wonderful. The best ever.”

Azzi can’t bring herself to speak, the emotions suddenly becoming a little too strong. She knows Paige is drunk but the words are so sincere, like they’re things Paige has been thinking about for a long time. 

“Gonna have two kids,” Paige smiles as she continues to babble, unaware of the effect that has on Azzi, “a girl and a boy. They’re gonna be the most loved kids in the world. And we’re gonna teach them basketball. And they’re gonna be perfect, just like you. Just like us.”

In the silence, Azzi listens to Paige’s breathing even out, a sign that the older girl has drifted into sleep. And she lets herself imagine the picture Paige had just painted for her. As she holds her girlfriend closer to her, she knows she wants that life too. The wedding. The kids. The perfection of it all. She falls asleep dreaming about it, unaware that hidden in the drawer right next to her, is a ring that has her name on it. 

5. finding forever (the inevitability of us) 

When Paige finally proposes, they’re back at the Minnesota State Fair. She’s had the ring for a couple of years now, waiting for things to fall into place so that they could finally play on the same team and actually be together. That hadn’t been an easy process and of course, they’d argued about it, perhaps going a little too far at times. But now, when she finally gets to wake up to Azzi’s peaceful sleepy smile, every single morning, it all seems worth it. 

The proposal, if Paige is honest, is just a formality. In her head, she’s been a married woman for a long time. Whatever ceremony they’d have, whatever papers they’d sign, wouldn’t do much to alter their already domestic lives. But she wanted that celebration, the moment with her family and friends where they’d become bound in the one way they weren’t yet: legally. And this proposal was the start of that. 

The list of ideas she’d planned out and discussed with their family and friends was long and had earned her plenty of sighs and eye rolls. Nothing had seemed quite right until she’d whined about it to both their mothers. They’d said to go back to the beginning and it had all clicked into place. 

As they have every year since they’d started coming to the state fair together, they’re engaged in a competition again. Every year, they get a little bit more competitive and every year their families' sighs get a little heavier. Something about it, makes the two of them reverse back to being fifteen. The ridiculous trash talk, the sticking their tongues out at each other, the exaggerated pouting when they lose, it’s all further proof of them still being children at heart. Except now, when Azzi pouts, Paige gets to kiss it off. 

They’re tied again this summer, as they seem to be most years. Though this year, there’s been a little bit of planning on Paige’s part. 

“Pop-a-shot it is,” Azzi sighs, “even though you absolutely cheated on that last hole in mini golf,” she turns to their families, who normally would have left by now but have stayed back today, with a dramatic spin, “and I can’t believe you all saw it, but you’re taking her side.”

“Not me Azzi, I’m on your side. I know she cheated,” Drew, the traitor, chirps with a smirk and Paige glares at her little brother whose loyalty to her girlfriend never wavers. 

“Thank you Drew. The only person who loves me for real,” Azzi puts one hand to her heart, and ruffles the younger boy’s with the other. 

“Save the dramatics for when you lose babe,” Paige says, rolling her eyes, “alright rock paper scissors.”

They play best of three as they always do. Paige wins the first round. Azzi wins the second. There’s momentary panic when Azzi technically wins the third because well, Paige sort of needs to be in control if this is going to work. The thing is Azzi likes to mix up whether she’ll choose to go first or second, according to her it keeps Paige on her toes. But today Paige really needs her girlfriend to go second. 

“Oh Az no cheating,” Tim cuts in, coming to the rescue, “you waited to see what she’d do.”

“WHAT?” Azzi squeals, “I absolutely did not.”

“Oh honey, I think you did,” Katie sends Paige a wink and she can’t help but smile at the family she’s found. 

“You’re not serious,” Azzi says with a betrayed voice, squinting at her parents, before turning to Paige’s mom, who gives her a consoling pat, “please adopt me.”

“Oh quit whining cheater,” Paige teases, “I’m going first.”

She steps up to the line for the game, feeling more nervous than she ever has really because this is it. There isn’t really a world in which she thinks Azzi will say no, at least not one where Paige continues breathing after. But she needs this to be perfect. Bouncing the ball for a second, she takes in a deep breath before raising her arms and shooting. It goes in, barely touching the room. So does the next. And the next one and the next one, until Paige has gotten nine shots in. 

As she goes to shoot the last one, Azzi's voice echoes around her, “miss it for me babe.”

And she does. It’s probably one of the weakest shot’s she’s ever taken in her life, the ball falling far below the basket. Behind her, she can hear their brother’s snickering. 

“Damn someone should send that to Coach,” Azzi teases, hip-checking Paige as she comes to take her spot, “better luck next time baby.”

“Yeah, yeah let’s see you do better,” Paige replies cockily, but her hands are sweating with nerves. 

“Oh you know I will,” her girlfriend responds with a grin, as she makes the first basket, that same perfect arc as always. Paige holds her breath on every shot, as the ball goes in flawlessly every time, their families cheering loudly for each one of them. As the last basket gets closer, Drew gives Paige’s hand a tight squeeze and gets a grateful smile in return. 

Taking a deep breath, as Azzi gets ready to take her last turn, Paige repeats the same words she’d said, the first time they’d been in this situation, “if you make the last shot, you have to marry me.”

“What?” Azzi whips around immediately, her eyes bright with confusion. Tongue-tied, Paige only shrugs and smiles, watching closely as Azzi lets the words sink in. A determined look crosses her face, followed by a mischievous smirk, and Paige’s heart swells. She knows the ball is going in the hoop even before the other girl's arms are in shooting position. And she’s right. The ball arcs in air and falls through the basket. And instead of the patent WINNER that normally lights up when someone makes the 10 shots, a new phrase appears on the dashboard. 

MARRY ME

Azzi gasps, hands flying to her mouth. When she whirls around, Paige is already on one knee and their families are watching with the biggest smiles. 

“I knew you lost on purpose,” Azzi breathes out, “you’ve never taken such a shit shot like that last one in your life.”

“Seriously,” Paige gapes up at her, “that’s what you get from this.”

“Babe, you hate losing,” Azzi emphasizes as if that explains everything and well, maybe it does.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Paige nods, reaching in her back pocket to pull out the ring, “but if you say yes to me today, then it doesn’t matter if I win or lose in a stupid arcade game, or on the court or anywhere, if you say yes Azzi, no matter what, I’ll always be a winner because I’ll have you. And I had a slightly better, slightly longer speech planned but it’s kinda all gone from my mind now, so I’ll just get right to it,” she manages a watery smile in response to her girlfriend’s tearful laugh, “Azzi, my soulmate and the love of my life, will you marry me?”

“Yes. Oh my god yes, of course, yes,” Azzi manages to get out, before she falls to her knees and into Paige’s arms, pressing her lips fervently against the blonde’s, their happy tears mixing into each other. Behind them, their families burst into cheers, hugging one another in congratulations.

“Wait, wait,” Paige pulls away, her smile stretching across her whole face, “I need to put the ring on you.”

She opens the ring box, to reveal a silver band that’s designed with a large diamond in the shape of a heart in the middle with two infinity shapes made out of smaller diamonds on each side of the heart. Azzi holds out her hand, eyes shining as Paige slips it onto her ring finger. It sparkles underneath the glow of the moonlight. 

“You finally got me a real one,” she whispers, continuing to admire the ring, “fuck, Paige it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah it took me a couple of years but I always knew I would. Look at the inside,” Paige nudges and Azzi squints to see the inscription on the inner edge of the ring. 

Since Always

The meaning of it is clear and Azzi lets out something in between a sob and a laugh before throwing herself back into Paige’s waiting arms. 

“I love you,” she whispers into her girlfriend’s, no, her fiance’s ears, “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

Paige’s arms tighten around Azz as she repeats it back, the word wife, evoking a newfound feeling she doesn’t quite know how to put in words. Their families begin to crowd them, until they’re all just a heap of bodies, likely earning some odd looks from passers-by. But it really doesn’t matter. It’s odd to think there had ever been a time when Paige had stood in this same cool Minnesota summer evening breeze and not know what love was, not known who Azzi was. Because this right here, with her fiancé in her arms, and their family all around them, this, she thinks, is the definition of love.

[tealfling]

Y'all the only gun Astarion got was a Nerf gun.

Just some random thoughts:

So, canonly Astarion has a Str 8 (-1) while normally DnD stats have a Str 16 (+3).

But this is the tadpole's doing.

Now I personally like the canon that most of the other vampiric abilities like turning into mist and spider climb were withheld intentionally by Cazador. You're probably more likely to accidentally find out you can run faster and lift heavier things than think about sticking to walls.

Astarion freely admits later that he was surprised (probably scared) when he woke up on a beach in direct sunlight. He's learning how the tadpole changed him. He can cross rivers! Enter homes! It's all so cool. Boi never mentions realizing he's not as strong as he used to be.

In my dUrge/Zephyr playthrough (don't remember which) I went to the crypt door on the beach very early. Of course I had Astarion handle the lock, but something that never happened before was Shadowheart made a comment, something along the lines of "You can open it, just like that?" She's impressed and acknowledging she's learning something new about her companions-- which honestly they should make more comments about skill checks, that was great. His line "Easy." Would have been the perfect reply.

So we go in and now there's all these traps, Astarion also knocks those out. So, so far he can be in the sun and his ego is probably soaring. "Look how impressive I am, picking these locks and navigating these traps. Watch me open this sarcophagus." And the lid doesn't budge. He'd probably be embarrassed and try to play it off.

And actually what we don't talk enough about is how probably all our male companions are likely having the same experience realizing how much they got nerfed that first couple days.

Gale's got a "I used to be Mystra's Chosen, but now she's Barbie and I'm just Ken" moment going on stuck in a rock.

And Wyll's like "I could once summon Hell beasts and take down giants, now I get winded using Eldritch Blast on goblins."

As opposed to our lovely lady loves that-- didn't.

Lae'zel: trained to swing a big sword until her problems aren't problems any more, still deals with her issues sword first

Shadowheart: healing and dealing

Karlach: I'm not in hell anymore guys, let's beat up bad guys!

[creativeafterdark]

Chapter 9 and 10

Heyo folks taking a @journeythroughjourneytothewest

Had to take a break from book club last week, burn out was very bad. But I've had a week to relax, celebrated my birthday and slept most of the day lol. Let's get back into Journey to the West

First: Chapter 9.

We finally meet our Monk and learn the story of his family!

We don't spend a lot of time learning about them (minus his Dad, gets a thumbs up from me. Kind to all and easy going enough to be like "I got hit by a ball-- oh I'm married now? Okay cool". Like talk about a shotgun wedding), but we do see little bits that remind me of our Monk. He does share his kindness with his Dad, and I genuinely think his anxiety is from his mom. I'll talk about her in a minute because she is a whole other thing.

My one question is... wouldn't other officials notice that Liu Hong, essentially becoming Chen E, had no idea what he was doing??? He went on business trips, did no one recognize he wasn't who he said he was????? I mean you would think anyone who took the exams with him who got positions would be like "uh... that's not him tf??". Or they just did not care. Who knows at this point. Apparently he had Six Eared Macaque level disguise skill, rolled a nat 20 in bullshitery.

Now. Lady Yin. The poor lady went through hell for over 18 years. She had to watch her husband get murdered, had to abandon her baby, and had to play wife to a murderer. Even when her husband came back... I'm not surprised she still ended up passing. That's a lot of guilt (and I'm sure Liu Hong was not kind to her) on her mind for a LONG period of time, nearly two decades. I wish there was a happy ending for the family but I get why it ended how it did, knowing what depression and anxiety can do to people.

Now our baby Monk. Our Xuanzang. I am so proud of him for being as brave as he was. This recently turned 18 year old did everything he could to help his family. Licking his grandma's eyeballs was...a choice. But it was for a good cause so good on him. I can see why he was a good choice as the Scroll Pilgrim.

And as promised, a sketch of Xuanzang

And as a bonus baby Monk with a doggo

But now we move to Chapter 10.

...I legit got annoyed going thru the debate between the fisherman and woodman. Like it went on far longer than it should have. I'm sure there was a profound moment that we're supposed to glean from it but I just wasn't receptive to it. Maybe I'll read it again.

Anyway.

I have been doing some looking into of Chinese historical heroes (I desperately want to read Romance of the three kingdoms, and I need more reading material about folk heroes and heroines) so seeing some references to the stuff I learned made me happy. There was mention of Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang and the painting of The Emporer's Generals on the doors (supposedly the Tang dynasty is where this practice was first used. A few three kingdom folks also get this treatment as door gods, or menshen, along with other important heroes and deities. Makes me wonder if the Emperor essentially deified his Generals and Wei Zheng. How does Heaven handle that?)

Fun fact! In my jttw x mythology story Wukong will work with Asena, mythical wolf mother of the Ashina Clan of Gokturks. Guess which dynasty of China had to deal with them a lot? :)

Anyway.

I've also come to the conclusion that Dragons just like to fuck around and find out. Like, the Dragon King just goes against heaven's orders to spite a very accurate fortune teller, does not even THINK of the consequences, and is surprised Pikachu face when he gets in trouble. Also not sure why he thought appealing to an earthly emporer would save him from THE SUPREME DAOIST DEITY'S JUDGMENT. Like, y'all, I'm beginning to think dragons just don't give a crap or just don't think. Got what he deserved for being dumb. Did the emporer make promises he shouldn't have? No doubt, you don't promise supernatural beings anything because it will make you want to die if they catch wind of you breaking promises, regardless of nationality. Did he deserve what he got? .... I mean historically probably but in the sense of this story, no.

I find the Tang dynasty interesting (because it gave us a certain Empress and had some fun female warriors, like Taizong's sister, who helped her father found the dynasty) and I can definitely thank jttw for getting my attention about it.

I think that's all I have as far as thoughts. And I apologize if my rambles just jumped around too much lol.

Over and out ✌️

[cookinguptales]

(I just asked if you watched the episode 3 promo, because I don’t want to spoil you.)Do you think the presence of the documentary crew has a significant influence on the characters, especially on Guillermo? More and more I get the feeling that Guillermo would sometimes behave differently or say different things if the cameras wouldn't be around. (1/3)

For example if one of the vampires says something totally outlandish, Guillermo gives the camera a certain look, which says as much as: “Can you believe they say something that silly? Of course they’re wrong. No, I would never agree/ do such a thing.”

From time to time it feels like Guillermo wants to convince the crew?/ the viewers?/ himself? that he is completely “normal”. So no, of course he would never look at the new, enhanced dick of his master /roommate /friend /Nandor ? Of course not, never. Such a crazy idea… (3/3)

--------------------

No, I'm happy you asked! Sorry if I came off as short, I was genuinely asking if you had any questions for me. I just woke up, lmao. So sorry if I sounded terse, I was just groggy and trying to parse if there was something in particular I was supposed to be saying.

As for your actual question... I think he definitely plays up his responses some? I think that, for all that he was very shy about expressing himself in the first season or so, Guillermo is actually kind of a histrionic person lmao. He really likes the attention, once he allows himself to have it, and he can be very. um. Theatrical.

I also think he's very conscious of his audience, when he has one, and is constantly tailoring his reactions to that. I mean that as in the physical audience, us, but also that he's very good at code-switching, for lack of a better word. Guillermo is actually fairly good at reading a room and acting accordingly. He seems to know, for the most part, when he needs to be quiet and watchful, when he should be deferential, when he needs to kick ass, who he can be a little sassy with... The way he behaves with his own vampires vs. other vampires vs. his family vs. the neighbors vs. the cameras, etc. changes so rapidly.

I'm not sure he's even conscious that he's doing it; in fact, when he tries to manipulate audiences, he's kind of shitty at it. But when he's doing it unconsciously, he's actually rather good. When he does overstep, it's almost always because he wants to be part of things so badly that he allows himself to try it, even though he knows he'll probably get slapped down.

(This... can actually be a pretty telltale symptom of abuse, actually. Tailoring your personality to what you think is "safe" around different groups and consistently trying to put on the "right" version of yourself so people will accept and like you. It comes from constantly having to manipulate situations with abusers in order to extricate yourself safely. Though whether we're talking about abuse at the hands of the vampires or due to his poor childhood is up for debate. We know that at the very least he was physically bullied in school...

When it comes to response to danger, there's fight, flight, freeze, or fawn, and boy have we seen Guillermo do all four -- but he does seem to have a certain learned fondness for fawn.

This ability to change your personality for safety can also be a symptom of being closeted throughout your formative years, but I guess we don't have all the details about that.)

Anyway, I think Guillermo realizes what the camera crew wants him to be and he plays into that. He seems to be the only character here who knows what The Office is lmao. He's also been miffed before at what he perceives them as wanting from him (when he was mad about being interviewed with Doll Nadja) so I think he's highly conscious of how he's being treated and depicted in this "documentary program". I think he often tries to position himself as the straight man (so to speak) even though he is just as patently insane as the rest of them.

All that said, I do think that Guillermo's always had a sort of fundamental discomfort with Nandor's sexuality that I don't think he needs to play up that much. (See: whirling around to hide when he walked in on him and Gail, cringing when trying to describe his sex acts in The Orgy, etc.) I think if anything, he was covering up his discomfort with a joke towards the camera, though it's hard to know for sure because the clip was so brief. Like we know he's seen Nandor's erect dick before, but that doesn't mean he's comfortable with purposefully looking at it, even if Nandor invited him to. (Maybe especially because Nandor invited him to.)

Plus, I mean, we know that Guillermo is extremely loyal and he does have a boyfriend now. We have no way of knowing if that loyalty is currently misplaced (as it... so often is, with Guillermo) but I mean. He probably has a lot of reasons for not wanting to look at his master's dick on camera, honestly. He'll probably end up doing it anyway (I don't know that he'll have a choice in the matter) but I can see him wanting to put up at least a token resistance. lmao

That said, we do know that he definitely does have a prurient interest in Nandor's dick despite his attempts to hide it so like. It'll be fun to see how that goes.

[glowingbadger]

So many thanks to my lovely followers who helped me come up with this concept! Arranged marriage has been the vibe with some of y'all lately and I am here for it.

Dimitri x Reader arranged marriage

AFAB reader ('wife', but no pronouns)

NSFW 18+

You lie in bed beside your husband- your Lord Husband, you should say -and there seems to be no cure for the anxious restlessness that's made a home in your heart. It had been like that since the moment you'd learned you had been betrothed to the infamous Boar King. A man of legendary strength and rumored temper. A one-eyed titan who had struck down countless foes with untold brutality. Yes, he and his allies had unified the continent. But great deeds can certainly be done at the hands of monsters.

He'd hardly touched you. Hardly looked at you, at first. You believed he must be disgusted by you, by this whole arrangement. But the need for an heir would be of even greater importance in the wake of the recent war, and so the most suitable arrangement (which turned out to be you) had been hastily made the moment the treatise had been signed. And so you'd come to live with the Boar King, and even to share his bed- though not yet in the fullest sense. It had taken a week for him to meet your gaze directly. When that bright blue star leveled on you, you expected to feel aggression, the rage that common folk told tall tales of in taverns. Instead, you felt hesitation. Sadness. Remorse. And a whole host of other things you didn't have names for yet.

By week three, he had tentatively taken your hand to help you off of horseback. That was the first time he ever touched you. You remember that he held you like fine parchment a little too close to a flame. After that, things had come a little more easily. You shared meals, and even a few polite words and the occasional briefest physical contact. He asked about your comfort in the castle. He assured you that anything you should need could be called for. Now, lying next to him in your bed- the bed you would share for the rest of your life -there's a geometrically perfect space between you two. A gap, seemingly exactly calculated to ensure that your bodies were unlikely to meet in the night.

"Ngh..." He groans, his body twitches and tenses. You've learned that the King suffers from nightmares, though of course you haven't let on that you've noticed. Tonight seems to be worse than the others.

"No..." he growls through grinding teeth, "Stay away... go... no-!" his fists grip the sheets so tightly you worry for the fabric. Then, you're not sure what madness prompts it, but you move closer to him. Just a little at first. Inching towards him as though approaching a frightened animal.

"My Lord..." you whisper, and your fingers just briefly graze his arm. He's warm, his body is firm and strong. You'd never allowed yourself to really look at him in his nightclothes before, but the relaxed collar of his shirt reveals defined collarbones and fair skin, but also a cross-hatched web of old scars. Some part of you had known all along, but for the first time, you truly, fully realize that he's actually strikingly handsome.

You lean over him a bit further. His head turns toward you, but he's still in the throes of his nightmares. Panting breaths cause his chest to rapidly rise and fall beneath you, and you can't help but feel the ache of sympathy in your heart. Gently, carefully, you bring a hand to his face. You can feel how tightly his jaw is clenched.

"Your Highness," you speak louder this time. His eye bolts open. His hand seizes you by the wrist hard- too hard. It hurts, and you flinch, but keep your voice down. For a moment, you fear the inevitable retribution that will surely follow. But then, he exhales, and he releases your hand.

"I- I'm sorry- I didn't realize-" he stutters out, and in this moment, he looks softer and sweeter than you've ever seen.

"You were, uhm... having a nightmare, My Lord."

He nods at you, then sighs deeply. You're at a loss for what to do. Shouldn't the King's wife comfort him in such a situation? Would he even accept any comfort you might offer?

That shock blue eye meets you, and you can tell he wants to say something. All he manages is,

"Why do you call me that?"

"I... I'm sorry?"

"'My Lord', 'Your Highness.'" it's too dark to tell for certain, but you almost think that you see a pink flush across his face.

"You're my King." you say meekly.

"I am your husband." he replies, and his eye narrows. It's not quite scolding, but there's definitely frustration there. Truly, it's impossible to tell exactly what he means by saying it, but you can't help the warmth building inside of you. He raises a hand to your cheek, and you're not afraid, though your heart races much the same. His hands are large and calloused, the hands of a man who has created miracles and atrocities, and now it's gingerly brushing your hair from your face. You move closer to him on instinct, and you notice with some relief that he doesn't shy away- not this time. Then, you open your mouth to speak, and nothing comes out at first. You sigh, and try again,

"My- My Lord Husband, you should sleep. I didn't intend to bother you, only to make sure that you were-"

He sighs once more, and his eye closes.

"Sleep will not come, I already know. Not on a night like this."

You certainly don't know what to say to that. Anything you can think of would be meaningless platitudes and hollow assurances. You don't know the man well enough to know his demons, but you're certain there are plenty. The two of you are quiet for a time, and though his breathing has steadied, he shows no signs of regaining sleep any time soon.

And so you do the only thing you can think of to do for him.

You lean forward and press your lips to his. He breathes in sharply, and you feel his frame tense beneath you- but he doesn't pull away. Your hands cradle his face as you place gentle and tentative kisses to his lips, which are far softer than you'd dared to imagine. And as you carefully move atop him to straddle his hips, you feel his hand tightly grip your thigh.

"What are you-?!"

"I thought that I would... perform my wifely duties to you, My Lord Husband. If you'll have me." you add, a slight tremor sneaking into your voice.

His pupil is wide and this time, you're certain that you can see a charming crimson flush across his cheeks. He speaks your name almost incredulously, though his hand hasn't left your body.

"You- you are under no obligation-" he stammers, and when you try to assure him, he presses on, "you're a prisoner to this marriage, don't you understand? I have no right to ask anything of you- much less that you give your body over to me!"

He seems to have completely forgotten that the entire point of this union was to produce an heir.

"I certainly wouldn't force myself on His Highness if I'm not pleasing to you..."

"That is absolutely not what I mean to imply," he says, almost laughing as he scoffs away the very idea, "I desire you as much as any sane person would, of course, but to think that you would be made to do such a thing merely to placate me-"

"I want this." you say, surprising even yourself with the strength of your words. You sound even more confident than you feel. But every word the King says to you peels away at the wall of anger and fear that you both had been content to keep between you until now, and you feel strongly about your decision. Still, he pauses a moment longer, as if waiting for you to back away from your claim. And when you don't, he draws you down to him and kisses you deeply. You can already feel his manhood rising between your thighs, but soon enough it's just one more piece of information amidst a whirlwind of sensations.

His strong arms wrap around you and his kiss travels down your neck to your chest. He fumbles awkwardly with the front of your nightshirt, so you remove it for him and he wordlessly returns to sucking gentle love-bites to your skin. Shy and curious moans and sighs surround you both in the dark of your bedchambers as you eagerly explore each other. His hands are rough, but he's trying so dearly to be delicate with you. You're more direct, your fingers tangled in golden hair and your body flush to his, creating an intoxicating friction between you.

Your lower body shifts more firmly against him, grinding his now quite stiff member between your thighs. He growls against your skin, and you feel his fingers drag down your back.

"I... ought to do more for you..."

Ostensibly, he means in terms of intimacy, but you have a strange feeling that he intends this to be a more general statement. You rest your forehead to his and murmur,

"I want you, My King."

"Dimitri." he says as his hands trail down to help remove your underclothes, "Just Dimitri, I beg of you."

And soon enough, he's pressed hot at your slick entrance, and you cling to him as he begins to push inside. He's thick- it hurts just a little, and you think for a moment that he was probably right that you both should have done more to prepare. But now he's filling you inch by inch, stretching you out around his cock, and your mind is numb to every thought except one- this is my husband, my lover.

"Dimitri..." You moan into the evening air around you as he bottoms out deep within you and the tinge of pain begins to fade into pleasure. He gives no reply other than the potent throbbing of his cock, rubbing against your inner walls as you both begin to move. You're surprised by how easy it is to fall into a natural rhythm with him. Your hips sink down onto him as he thrusts up towards you, and each pass sends a jolt up your spine. Dimitri buries his face in the crook of your neck, panting softly, holding onto your hips as you squeeze tightly around him.

Your nails dig along his muscled shoulders as you feel your climax winding tight at your core. He doesn't seem to mind- you're not sure if he even notices. His pace picks up. Briefly, his hands ease their hold on you, as though offering a means of escape. You have no need for such a thing. With a whimpering moan, you press yourself as far down onto his cock as you can until his tip hits your core, then sway forward, grinding his length into you until, with a gasp of his name, your body slacks into his arms.

He whispers your name in turn with something like awe in his voice. With his cock now coated in your climax, Dimitri loosens his restraint, and begins fucking into you in earnest. While your thighs tremble and you can hardly keep yourself supported above him, you manage to meet his gaze and smile warmly, then press a tender kiss to his parted lips. He grits his teeth, and he holds you to him with such strength that you no longer even need to support yourself. Then, he swells, twitches, and his pleasure is spilling out deep inside of you, filling you and warming you through.

You moan happily as you feel his release, then relax your body to lay comfortably against his sturdy frame. He's panting harshly still, but neither of you rush to separate from one another. Once he's just barely composed himself, he lifts your chin and kisses you with a sweetness that you never thought you'd find in a man, let alone the Boar King himself.

Though, once you've eased his spent manhood from you and laid your head against his chest, you hear his heart beating, still just a bit too fast and fluttery. You think for a moment that, yes, your husband is the legendary, ruthless Boar King. Your husband is also Dimitri, a man who looks at you with sincerity that makes your heart ache. A man you don't know well- not yet -but who you find yourself opening to more and more each day.

"I... don't wish to keep you awake terribly long..." he says, with a stilted nervousness to his voice, "but, if you're not overly tired, I- I'd like to... talk for a little while."

You smile a warm, but private smile, then say,

"I'd like that very much, Dimitri."

[bokettochild]

So, in honor of LU's 4th anniversary, I will be sharing the results of my introducing the Boys to my younger sister! I basically showed her a bunch of pictures and she made assumptions while I laughed my ass off and tried to type while keeping up with what she was saying.

Here are the results of that!

Let's get into it, shall we?

(For clarity, my comments are in italics and hers will be in quotation marks)

"His name is Thor

"Knight in shining armor, stern, leader but not totally controlling, honor obsessed."

(She got more detailed about them all later on, but yeah, she was short with the first few, but a bit on the nose XD)

"Weird insomniac guy

"Strikes me as distrusting, wily, protective of family, lone wolf "

(I died)

"Boromir

"Strikes me as being proud, vain, sassy, a bit of a narcissist, tries to look good but often breaks the rules, look out for Number #1"

You're not that far off, I mean, he's not a narcissist, he learned not to be after the villain um...lusted after him and hilled hundred of people because she wanted him to be hers.

"Shaggy

"Ugly, he ugly. Obviously he's got a super sword so he must have done something cool to get that but he doesn't deserve it, like, he's not cool after all. He looks like he's supposed to be really cool but is actually boring. Not very relatable, too perfect."

(She tore into him lol)

(I didn't tell her anything, but I guess she picked up on the fact that he's a religious nut. And when she saw me type this she kinda groaned so....)

(She looked shocked when I said he was dating a goddess) "That's not religious that's sacrilegious!"

"Legolas

"Cute! He's cute. Probably a bit mischievous, spunky, bit of a rebel, goes off and does his own adventures when he's not supposed to. Generally smart but gets his butt handed to him on occasion from going off my himself. He's just like a cute, mischievous trouble-maker who means well but get's himself screwed up."

(I was dying as I wrote it, she got him perfect!)

"Hiccup

"Getting a Hiccup vibe, but also Sokka- Is that a boomerang? It's a boomerang :)

"He a bit timid on the surface, but he's got his own thing going and is gonna stand up for what he wants to do. He'll go off and do his adventure stuff but he's also afraid of dying or getting hurt (like the 1st Hiccup freeing Toothless scene in the woods). Easily startled but quick to spring into action. Kinda like the sneak boi."

(Told me to make sure to type it "boi")

He's half fairy.

"That makes sense.

"And his sword is dying! Look at this!!!"

(She really disliked how his sword looks, we laughed like nuts)

"Kuzko

"Why Kuzko? I already don't like him. I feel like he's cocky, a bit of a flirt, tries to look cool and screws it up. Like he thinks he's really epic, "stand aside, let me do my thing", proceeds to blow himself up. Based on the fact that he's holding a bomb I'm guessing that he does something with explosives, but he's also got a sword. And what is that, a joker's vest? He looks like that weird kid who ran away to join the circus but is also a mercenary part time."

Anything else?

"He explode."

Everyone's gonna riot, you're just tearing into their favorites!

"Baby Face- No! Mort! (like in Madagascar)

Ew. He's like an ugly baby face, is he slinging a bell around? What is that? Is that a bell?"

It's a grappling hook.

"Either he's really small and immature, or just really young, or both. I feel like the creator designed him to be this mischievous lovable character but I would probably hate him :). Probably takes on too much, tries to be a hero but he's to amateur. Probably has a dramatic backstory; like he's a prince or something. He's probably got like a high pitched annoying voice (she dislikes kids). He's like if Deku was younger and medieval, except I like Deku. He probably cries a lot too."

(Sorry to the Wind, Sky and Four fans, I can't control her)

Last one (for now)

(told her he's my fav)

"Sonic

Oh no. Oh no. I think he's like, cocky, flashy, probably a bit of a flirt, but at the same time I feel like underneath that he's really sweet. He's a team player but a bit of a showoff. It's easy for him to get himself into a pickle."

He turns into a rabbit.

No rabbits! No! No rabbits! (She just read Melvina's Therapy webtoon)

"He looks like is James Hiller tried to be an elf knight."

Anything else?

"Idk he's just weird."

He's the most emo out of all of them.

"He's emo? He looks like a 'har har snicker ha' (a swashbuckler, for those who didn't grow up watching veggies hop around telling Bible stories), like Kirishima and Kaminari combined."

Showed her this Bunny Legend page

I"Oh my frick! It's a raspberry bunny! Like a raspberry bunny from Redwall! Like if Kirby ate a bunny! Oh my freaking gosh it's like if kirby ate a pokemon! Oh gosh! He's cute! I wanna read it I wanna read it I wanna read it!"

(I converted her, lol)

That mostly sums it up, but I did show her a piece of fanart, and she told me that Hyrule looks like my old OC Fitz (I might post the art one day, lol, it was terrible!), Warriors is He-Man, and Four is a blone Tarzan.

Additionally, I told her some of them were shifters, and when telling her that manga Legend becomes what is essentially a werewolf she went "Are there any vampires?"

.....

I told her Wars was the closest to a vampire, but only because @mmmwafflesart made him one.

She did like the idea of Shadow though, go fig..

(If y'all are curious I might follow this up with her thoughts on Malon and Ravio, but those were recorded and I don't think she wants that chaos soundtrack out (my hands were too busy to type at the moment))

Hope y'all enjoyed. Sorry again to the Sky and Four stans out there!

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 6

Word Count: 3,753

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 6/?

Warnings: mentions of murder, arson, and blood

A/N: The ending is dark, y'all, dark. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 6

I followed my father inside the house, my hands trembling and sweating. The only topic I believed they would seriously need to talk to me about was the supernatural and the family business. Just as I had told Derek, if I hadn’t met him and Scott, I would have probably joined without a second thought. But I had met them, I had been embraced by them, and I didn’t know what I was going to answer.

I sat across from my parents on the kitchen’s island. They seemed excited, but a bit anxious. Obviously, revealing to your daughter the existence of supernatural beings and the fact that the whole family hunted them wasn’t an easy task. At least, she already knew the most hard-hitting information and she wouldn’t feel blindsided.

“Honey, what we have to tell you is very important, and we don’t want you to feel like we have been keeping this from you on purpose,” my mother started. “But you need to understand that everything we have to say today is nothing but the truth. Okay?”

“Guys, what is it? You’re scaring me.”

“You know that all Argents work at the family company, Argent Arms International, and that at some point you’d probably end up working there.”

“Yeah, dad. The reason I know too much about weapons,” I laughed. I couldn’t let on that I knew more than they thought.

“Well, the company is actually a front for the real work we do behind the scenes, and the reason we’re on the road a lot,” my father started. “Since the start of our lineage Argents have been hunters.”

“Hunters of what?”

“Now, I need you to remember that what I am about to tell you is the full honest truth.” I nodded. “We hunt supernatural creatures, but mainly werewolves. You remember the tattoo I have on my arm that you asked about when you were younger?”

“Yeah, ‘Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent’. French, we hunt those who hunt us. I always thought it was more of a psychological phrase.”

“That’s our family mantra. All Argent generations have been trained since childhood to become hunters one day, Chris and I were the only ones that decided to give you and Allison the choice once you became teenagers to know about our world. It’s completely up to you to join us.”

“So, all the training, physical and with weapons, was all in preparation for this?” My father nodded. I could see the worry in his face of how I would take this news – a one-worded answer was going to shift my whole life. It was one thing to be knowledgeable of this life, it was another to be in the center of all of it.

“We run by a code,” my father explained. “We only hunt those who have been proven to have harmed innocent lives – only adults, no young ones, and no humans. Any hunter that breaks that code is an enemy to our cause.”

“Is that what aunt Kate did?” I spoke in a hushed tone knowing this was a difficult topic for my father, one that we hadn’t touched upon in the time we had been here.

“Yes, it is” my mother answered. Her dislike towards her sister-in-law wasn’t a secret. Mom had always thought of her as arrogant and self-centered – or so she would state when in an alcohol-induced rant.

“Unfortunately, my sister did break the code, but that’s beside the point,” dad interjected. “Sweetheart, we make sure that everyone around us is protected from the creatures that are unknown. So, what do you think? Do you want to join us?”

They both studied my face, waiting on any reaction that could arise from me. All I could think is how my decision could affect the people that had made their way into my life. Allison had accepted, and although her relationship with Scott was strained, she still managed to keep him close. But what if I accepted and all it did was deteriorate all the new relationship I was trying to build?

“Yes.”

After the conversation, my father warned me that training would start soon, after I passed some sort of test. They were happy that I had agreed to join the family trade, but I noticed a sign of worry in my father’s eyes. His whole life had been built around supernatural hunting, so what was he worried about? Whatever it was, he did not express. They had both been called away on a meeting and excused themselves before leaving. With the house to myself, I basked in my decision sitting on the living room couch, petting Brody.

“What do you think, bub? Did I make the right choice?” Brody looked up at me, his tongue hanging out, a smile on his face. A bark came after and I took it as confirmation that I had. “Maybe you’re right. We’ll see, huh? Should I call Derek and tell him?”

At the sound of Derek’s name, Brody barked out happily. I laughed at his reaction and decided to call Derek. It still surprised me that Brody had taken to Derek so quickly – probably had to do with him being a werewolf and an alpha. I clicked on his contact on my phone and waited on speaker for him to pick up.

“Hello?” His voice rang out, exciting Brody once more. “Hey, buddy!”

“He’s been very excited to hear from you.”

“I can see,” he chuckled. “I can assume you made it home safely?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“What’s wrong? You sound weird.”

“How can you possibly deduct my tone from over the phone?”

“Intuition, you could say. But seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Well, my parents talked to me about the family business,” I breathed out, nerves building up inside. I didn’t know what his reaction would be, and I hope my decision wouldn’t push him away. “They asked me to join them.”

“And what did you say?” He already knew the answer. Asking was just courtesy.

“I said yes.” He kept quiet for a second, and I truly believed I had ruined our relationship before anything had ever started. “Are you mad?”

“I can’t be mad. I understand why you did it, they’re your family. Why would you think I would be mad?”

“I don’t know. I’m gonna be actively working on hunting you and your kind, that would put a strain on any kind of relationship.”

“And what kind of relationship would that be?” He teased.

“Derek, this is serious. What kind of relationship could we have when we’re born enemies?”

“Allison and Scott seem to make it work. It’s hard, but it’s not impossible.”

“So, sneaking around, worrying every second that we’d be found out by hunters. Seems viable,” I snickered. “And in no way, shape, or form stressful. Believe me, Derek, I have enough anxiety as it is. I don’t need the stress of keeping all my relationships secret.”

“Do you have any other choice?”

“I guess I don’t.”

“The way I see it, (Y/N), is you can use this opportunity and work for both sides. You can protect us from the inside, and hunt those that are a real threat. Like the Kanima,” he stated. It made sense to work with my family to protect my friends, even if my family was hunting them. “And, as much as I hate saying this, you should talk to Allison about this. She seems to be handling this way better than I thought.”

“I will. Thanks, Derek. I’ll call you soon, okay?”

“I’ll be waiting. Sleep well, (Y/N).”

“You too, Derek.”

I hung up the phone and breathed out. My life had turned a lot more complicated than I had ever imagined, and I was sure it was going to turn a lot worse. I had just started dipping my toes in the supernatural pot we were living in, something told me that there was still so much that I didn’t know. And there was one person I knew would have the answers I was seeking.

I grabbed my jacket off the coat rack and got on my motorcycle, a clear route ingrained in my brain. The night was cold, and the breeze nipped at my skin as it blew under my shirt. There was so much I had to learn, and so little time.

The drive wasn’t long, and I was still surprised I remembered the way.

The lights in the McCall house were off, but the car was in front, so I assumed Scott was home. I would have gone to Allison, but I needed to know everything, and I was sure she would try to protect me from the worst of it. Scott seemed like someone I could trust, and being at the center of everything gave him a lot more insight that I could use. I looked around the house and, remembering which room was his, found a way to climb up the side to his window. Hopefully, I didn’t encounter something I didn’t want to see.

Looking away, I knocked on his window – loud enough for him to hear, but silent enough to not alarm his mom. I clutched my jacket tighter as I waited for an answer, the wind finding me easier on higher ground. It didn’t take long for the window to slid open, revealing a very confused Scott.

“(Y/N)?” He rubbed sleep off his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

“Sure.” He stepped aside and let me through. His room was messier than the last time I had seen it, and the bed was disheveled. On his desk, his computer was propped open, and a disarray of papers lived atop the wooden surface.

“Sorry for waking you, but this couldn’t wait.”

“Don’t worry. I couldn’t sleep anyway,” he chuckled. A lopsided smile taking place on his face. “So, what’s up?”

“Tonight, I was asked by my parents to join the hunters, and I agreed. But, going into this, I’m the one that knows the least about this world. Apart from Lydia, that is. I need to know everything you know about what we are up against. I don’t think our parents would have asked Allison and me to join now unless we were facing something truly dangerous.”

“Okay, I get it. And please don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you asking me and not Allison or even Derek? It seems like they would be the natural choice to ask about this.”

“Because they would try to shield me from the most dangerous aspects of what’s happening. Hopefully, you being a third party you’ll be truly honest about the situation we are in.” My tone came out friendly, but the underlying threat was evidently laced with it.

“Alright, where do you want me to start?”

“I want to know everything. No detail left out.”

“For me, this all started last year…”

And everything I learned. Scott had been bitten by Peter Hale, Derek’s uncle, who was alpha at the time. Most of last year he spent learning about his new werewolf life, which he believed he was alone in, until Derek, who came from a long line of werewolves that resided in Beacon Hills. The very same family my aunt had murdered. When he explained that part of Derek’s history, I couldn’t help but tear up. How could he ever stand being near me when my own blood had done that to him? Ripped him from his family in such a horrifying manner. I knew she had killed people but knowing that Derek was one of the survivors made my stomach knot.

He also told me how Derek came to be the alpha, and how Peter had held the alpha title also. And how my aunt had truly died. Everyone’s stories seemed to bundle into the same mess of supernatural chaos.

“Then, Jackson asked for the bite, which Derek gave him. And the thing about the bite, you sometimes turn into something other than a werewolf due to internal issues you could say. So, he became the Kanima, which is a lizard type-creature that looks for a master as we just recently learned. His main objective is to do as his master commands, and in his case, it's killing a bunch of people. He also secretes a venom that paralyzes people, but it didn’t work on you and Lydia.” Me? “Which was really weird – Lydia, we think it has something to do with Peter biting her. But you, we’re not sure. Because there’s no indication as to why you could possibly be immune. Unless you’re not human, but that would mean that Lydia’s not human either, and that doesn’t make sense.”

“Okay, Scott. You’re rambling,” I chuckled dryly, stopping him in his track. How he talked for so long, I did not understand. I believed Stiles was the only one with that ability. “How could you know that I was immune though? I haven’t had any contact with the Kanima or this venom.”

“Well, actually, the day we were making rock crystals in lab, Isaac had left some venom on Lydia’s crystal. You weren’t supposed to taste it, but it was a surprise when nothing happened to you. Have you ever been in contact with any other supernatural beings?”

“Seeing as I didn’t even know my parents were hunters, it’s safe to assume I haven’t. But I think finding out why I am the way I am is at the bottom of the list with this Kanima going around.”

“Yeah, and your family is making it very hard to do so when they’re actively hunting us.”

“They can’t be, they run by a code, and you guys are innocent.”

“But your grandfather doesn’t care. He lifted the code. He’s on a rampage towards all supernatural creatures, us included. They’re even keeping an eye on us at school – with Gerard running it and Victoria being our new teacher.”

“But we have the upper hand in learning about the Kanima, right? I mean, if my family is actively recruiting the younger ones, it means they are up against a threat they don’t know about, and we have the bestiary translated.”

“Kind of. I just have a feeling Gerard knows a lot more than he lets on.”

“Can’t really give insight on a person I don’t know. But anything I find out I’ll be sure to pass it along,” I smiled. “I still can’t believe all of this was happening right under my nose. How did I not notice?”

“It’s easy to ignore when you don’t know it exists. If I hadn’t been in the forest that night, I would be as in the dark as you were.”

“I guess so,” I smiled. “Thank you, Scott. For your honesty, and for trusting me with this information.”

“You’re one of us now, (Y/N). We look out for our own.”

“Thank you, Scott. I’ll leave you now to hopefully catch up on some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

“Of course, (Y/N). We’re gonna meet up with Allison in the library to talk about the Kanima. I think it’d be good for you to be there.”

“I will.” My body was outside the house, squatting in front of the window. “Again, thanks, Scott. It’s good to know I have a friend looking out for us.”

“Don’t mention it, (Y/N).” He smiled, scratching his neck trying to hide the blush that had crept to his face. “Get home safe.”

I felt uneasy the whole ride back home. I truly couldn’t fathom how Derek old even spend a second with me after everything my family had put him through. My stomach hadn’t stopped turning, and I felt like I could throw up at any second. He didn’t deserve to have to look at a person that resembled the person that had screwed up his life. The tears started streaming from my eyes before I could stop them. It didn’t feel right, and it wasn’t right.

Somehow I made it back home. I had blacked out at some point and was moving out of muscle memory. I was glad my parents had not made it back home yet — I could let tears cascade without having to hide them. Allison and I had always looked up to our aunt. To us, she presented herself as a confident, independent, and badass woman. I still remember how one Christmas Allison and I had gotten into her clothes and pretended to be her. When Kate found us, she couldn’t help but laugh at the two little irks in front of her. She questioned what we were doing and we told her we wanted to be just like her. I recalled how I told her I wanted to grow up to be her. There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done to take that back. Had I know back then what I knew now, I would have stayed as far away from her.

“This family is all types of messed up. Huh, Brody?” My dog looked up at me, a questioning glance on his face. “What am I gonna do, bub? I don’t think I’m strong enough to face him. I really don’t.”

Brody barked, leaving kisses on my cheeks — a nimble approach to getting rid of my tears. I snuggled closer to him, enjoying his comforting presence. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep well tonight.

I was standing in the middle of Derek’s family home, the only light coming from the moon peeking through the clouds. It was a cold night, and the low temperature was seeping into my bones. My whole body ached and the air smelled of soot. I felt uneasy standing there. Now knowing its history, my heart clenched tightly. I could only imagine the pain that had ensued in what I presumed was an agonizingly slow death. The tears that escaped from my eyes burned into my skin, and my ears rang with an unknown high pitch. I kneeled on the floor, and attempt to catch m breath.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” I stood up, the unknown voice startling me. “The smell is the worst part.”

“Aunt Kate.”

“The screams weren’t that bad,” she chuckled. “They died down quickly. There’s so much screaming you can do when smoke fills your lungs.”

“Stop,” I sobbed. “Please.”

“I can just imagine them thinking it was a normal afternoon, and then the fire starts. You know, wooden houses are a very good catalyst to speed up a fire.”

“Stop.”

“(Y/N), come on.” Kate was grinning, a sinister smile that would have anyone shivering. “It’s only a matter of time before you do something similar. You and I have always been the most alike — centered, strong, morally grey. It’s in your blood, baby girl. At first, you’re gonna believe you’re on their side, but soon you’ll see that they’re all bad. Sooner or later they all spill innocent blood. It’s better to get them when they’re fresh, it’s so much easier”

“How can you talk like that? These are people’s lives you are talking about.”

“It’s different, sweetheart. They’re not normal, they’re a living abomination,” she rationalized. “This is all a game of power. We can’t allow them to have the upper hand. If we let that happen, they’ll overtake us, and there is a natural order to things.”

“Is that why you murdered a whole family of innocent beings? The family of a kid you tricked to fall for you, leaving him alone to suffer!” I yelled, the loudness hurting my throat. “You tricked Derek and used him to end his line. Why?”

“A pack is only as strong as its number. The bigger they are, the stronger they are. I was just doing my job,” she grinned. “Just like you did.”

“What are you talking about? I would never do something as heartless as you have.”

“Are you sure, honey? Why don’t you walk through that door and say that again.”

I stared at her like a deer stuck in headlights. My body shook as I slowly made my way to the dark front door of the house. Her eyes burned into every step I took, the sinus eerie grin still prominent on her face. With every step, her stare edging me on forward. There was a scene to unfold behind that door, and she was eager for me to see it.

I stretched my hand towards the doorknob but flinched when I felt the burning temperature it held. Kate said nothing as she encouraged me to open the door, daring me to face whatever I had to with just her gaze. I braced myself for the feeling and clasped my hand around the knob, turning it to reveal whatever it was that she wanted me to see.

The scene in front of me was heartbreaking. We now stood in front of Derek’s apartment complex, his loft lit aflame. The smell of ash was more prominent and the heat was almost unbearable. I tried to run into the building, the need to help any survivors growing in me. But Kate held me back, a painful grip holding onto my arm.

“Let me go!” I yelled through tears. “I need to save my friends.”

“Darling, don’t you get it?” She chuckled. “They’re all gone. All thanks to you. Look at your hands, honey.”

I did as she told, and my breath hitched in my throat when I did. My clothes were drenched in blood, and in my hands, I carried a bloody knife and a lighter. “No, I would never do this.”

“You already did.” She pointed forward, fixing my sight on the bodies that laid on the floor of the lot. “And some of them were innocent, too. But in war, there are always casualties. I mean, your cousin sided with them, and look how she ended up.”

I walked around the bodies, trying to find a sign of life in any of them as a flood of tears streamed out of my ducts.

Scott.

Stiles.

Lydia.

Isaac.

Allison.

Even Boyd and Erica were there.

But I didn’t see one important person. “Where’s Derek?” My voice croaked, barely the volume of a whisper.

“Who do you think is inside the building? It’s a fitting end for him. Dying in the way he shucked have years ago,” she laughed maniacally. “At least he’ll relate to his family when he gets to the other side.

“NO!” Once again I tried to run into the building, needing to risk my ice to save his. But she stopped name in my tracks once more, her grip tightening. “Let me go, please. Just let me go, I have to save him.”

“Honey, he’s already gone,” she scoffed. “Don’t you get it, sweetheart? There are only two ways this will end — it’s either you or them. And the sooner you accept it, the easier it will be; you are just like me.”

Tag List: @hellowinterlane​ @lokisgoddesofpower​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region @sunshine-flower

[ragingbookdragon]

The Theory Of Everything

Outlaws x Tamaranean!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: So y'all remember how I said that one story sparked the beginning of the Outlaws x Reader? Yeah, I lied and wrote the actual beginning. Enjoy! -Thorne

It was a subtle thing, the slightest shift in her demeanor, and he would have missed it if he hadn’t the years of thorough training in order to recognize such shifts. Her default expression was typically a frown and narrowed eyes, and hardly ever did she crack a smile, even at the most downright hysterical jokes and pranks his family would pull on one another. Which was odd for a Tamaranean considering the fact that most of the ones he’d met were usually overjoyed, especially her sister.

Something had also flashed across her face in that moment he mentioned it and she offhandedly muttered about being conditioned to not show emotion, especially that of joy or kindness during her captive years—it was easily taken advantage of by those that wished to do their worst harms to people. Then, she waved it off, and talked about something she’d read on the internet, Resting-Bitch-Face, she’d called it, then actually laughed, and said it was her normal face, there was no particular negative emotion that caused it, it just was—but if it deterred people from being friendly with her, all the better.

And he’d come to realize that her frown and narrowed gaze didn’t ooze disinterest or irritation like he’d once believed. No, now that he’d noticed the shift in her eyes when she was around him and those she cared for, the softness that entered them, and the split second that her brows unfurrowed, features relaxing ever so slightly before they hardened again, covering up any semblance of relative peace. That was the moment he realized he was in love with her, and hopelessly at that too.

But she wasn’t an easy woman to understand, not by a long-shot, or to be around, and she’d even agree with both of those. Most people, like his older brother and his friends, avoided her like the plague and didn’t interact unless it was necessary, despite the fact that she’d once been a member of the Titans with Kory. Hell, most of the Justice League didn’t want to call in reinforcements if it meant she was coming too, she was that destructive when she fought—but her volatile nature held a lifetime of wrath and a raging need to burn away all remnants of abuse—either in herself or other innocents. And she only got it out when she expended her solar energy on those she deemed her enemies.

She was impertinent with people that wasted her time, and she especially hated when people made noise, hell, even when they breathed loudly it drove her up the wall. Which almost made her kill Roy the first time she’d met him because he wouldn’t stop whistling. She was also typically the reason that Jason and Roy couldn’t bring her along to bars anymore because she was more than happy to break someone’s leg over touching her or muttering explicit comments in her ear.

But what most people didn’t take the time to see was that she was caring too. She didn’t show it because she viewed it as a weakness to be taken from her by an enemy, but it slipped through sometimes. One of the easiest memories to call on of it, was the time they’d saved a group of kids from human traffickers and as they waited for the city police to show up, she made even the youngest child learn how to send a strike that would disorient even someone who was larger than they were. That spot just below your chest is called the solar plexus. Hit it as hard as you can, and your opponent will be winded. Curl your fingers in and open your hand, like so. Strike into their middle with the heel of your palm as hard as you can.

Jason wondered if it was the first time she’d smiled since she came to earth, because when she saw the kids slip into a state of absolute fun as they tried to whack each other, a broad grin stretched across her face. But it gave him a glimpse he hadn’t seen of her—that she was still a living being, capable of strong emotion, and if that smile on her face was any indicator, she was feeling pride and understanding towards the children. He loved her smile, wishing that it would’ve stayed a moment longer.

Unfortunately, being smitten didn’t seem to just apply to Jason because if someone as hard-assed and anal-retentive about feelings as he was, was feeling such a way, he knew a loose, emotionally tethered man like Roy was too, especially when the archer gazed at her with those big evergreen eyes like he was staring at the whole universe compacted into one woman. Jason wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

And if he was being completely honest, he didn’t know how to feel about either of them—he wouldn’t deny there was something more than just friendship between he and Roy, and it wasn’t that strong as steel, forged level of trust you get between watching each other’s back when you’re in the thick of danger—it was deeper than that, but they’d yet to bring it up—that or it just hadn’t come up to where they needed to talk about it. And now that there was another person he wanted…Jason wanted to acknowledge it, but he was so afraid of fucking up probably the greatest thing that happened to him since he came back, and that kept him paralyzed from acting on his feelings. And he was content to keep his mouth shut if it meant avoiding that, even if he had to watch the two people he loved the most get closer.

***

She was typically the first one to wake in the morning. Training with the Warlords of Okaara meant rising before the sun, and while she’d learned to indulge in waiting for the sun to appear in the sky before waking here on earth, old habits died hard, and more often than not, she found herself lying in bed in the early hours of the morn, simply staring at the ceiling until she heard Jason or Roy shuffling around in the kitchen. That being said, it was usually Jason who was up and not Roy, the latter being very lazy and preferring to sleep until practically noon.

Today however, she wasn’t the first to arise, coming to stare at Jason as she shuffled into the kitchen, watching as he tiptoed around the area, either consciously being quiet, or unconsciously falling back on sneaking training. His back was to her, and even if she wasn’t one privy to childish whims, she couldn’t help but creep up on him and wait in his peripheral until he finally noticed her. And when he did, it was downright hilarious.

He jerked with a sharp ‘shit’ and immediately threw out his right elbow to jab at whatever had snuck up on him and she caught it with ease, allowing a smirk to cross her lips before it fell and she murmured, “Peace, Jason. It would be unbecoming to attack a teammate.” She pressed her thumb into the flesh underside his arm and his arm tingled with heat. “Better yet a friend.”

Jason scowled and pulled his arm out her grip. “It’s unbecoming to sneak up on teammates too, (Y/N).”

She merely hummed and flowed around him to the refrigerator. The door creaked on its hinges and he momentarily reminded himself to oil it later, watching as she pulled out the water pitcher.

“You are up rather early,” (Y/N) noted. “I have noticed that you sleep an hour or so later than I.” Her glowing eyes pierced him with a clarity that he wasn’t sure he liked. “Is there something on your mind, Jason?”

He shrugged and turned away, busying himself with pulling out a skillet and a spatula. “Just woke up, is all.” Jason didn’t have to be facing her to know that those eyes were boring into his back—he could feel them.

“Ah, so your body has received the needed recovery.”

Chuckling, he replied, “Something like that.” He felt her shift behind him, then the egg carton appeared beside the spatula on the counter, and he glanced over at her, only to see a curious look in her eye.

“Has anyone ever told you that your eyes glow in the dark?”

Jason blinked—not that he remembered. He unconsciously reached up to touch just below his eye and he murmured, “No…they do?”

(Y/N) lifted a hand and he couldn’t fight the way his heart began to pound in his chest at how soft her fingertips were when they finally touched his skin. She drew her fingers up his cheek and to his eyebrow, tracing it delicately, as if he were made of porcelain and the faintest touch would shatter him into a million shards—not like he wasn’t feeling like that already.

“It is strange, Jason. They are teal in the light, but when there is darkness…they glow a vivid green.”

A memory flashed across his mind, waking up in the neon ooze of the Lazarus Pit and he couldn’t help but shut his eyes, trying to will it away. She placed her palm against his cheek and Jason sighed as the warmth bled into his skin, reminding him of those moments of falling onto a warm pillow.

“What is on your mind, Jason?” she asked, and this time she wasn’t probing to see if he’d tell her—(Y/N) wanted an answer, and a real one at that. He let out a shaky breath as he mulled over the words that played on his tongue. “I can see you are thinking about it. Tell me what is weighing on you and I will do what I can to appease it.”

“I don’t know if it’s that simple, (Y/N),” he replied and he opened his eyes to stare at her. Her expression was unreadable and the fact that he couldn’t decipher her thoughts worried him.

“Simplicity. Complexity. These are only matters of time and understanding, Jason,” she explained and thumbed his cheekbone. “You know that I can do so. Let me help you.”

It was now or never and either he told her here or he told her later when the timing was worse, and he made an even bigger mess. At least here, she could let him down easy and swear to never say a word to Roy about it.

Jason took a deep breath and prepared himself for the worst as he confessed quietly, “I…love you, (Y/N).”

The most extraordinary thing occurred in front of Jason—her jaw went slack, and her eyes went wide like she’d witnessed the most impossible thing. And that had to be the second to worst reaction he could hope for because he’d honestly rather have her flat-out rejection than stunned silence, just staring at each other. And stare they did…for a solid minute before she appeared to find her voice.

“I…was not aware you had affectations for me.” (Y/N) blinked, adding, “Is this a recent discovery?”

He shrugged. “I tried to ignore it…I didn’t want to mess up the dynamic we’ve got going but…”

Jason trailed off and she tipped her head to the side, repeating, “But?”

Meeting her gaze, he said, “But I couldn’t stop feeling for you.” Suddenly he felt like a caged animal, too close, too confined, too transparent in her glowing stare and he pulled from her touch, spinning around to place his hands on the counter so he could gather his thoughts.

“I don’t know what’s between you and Roy, but I know it’s more than sex and I’m not going to come between it.”

“Even if you want to?” she questioned, and he gripped the counter until his knuckles turned a sickly, pale shade. “Don’t you want to be the one at my side?”

“What I want doesn’t matter. I want you both to be happy.”

“At your own expense.”

Jason huffed a mirthless laugh. “I’m used to my expense being unseen and uncared for.” He lowered his head as his heart began to collapse on itself. “I love you, (Y/N) and…and I love Roy too.” Even with all he’d been through, Jason wondered if this was what it was like to have a broken heart. “But I won’t stand in the way.”

She was silent for a long time and Jason fought viciously to keep the tears at bay. He’d just revealed two of the biggest secrets he’d ever had in his entire life—discounting the whole vigilante thing—and he wasn’t sure where that was going to leave him in the morning.

A warm hand touched his knuckles and his head shot up, staring wide and teary eyed at (Y/N) who wore a heart-tugging smile. Finally, she spoke, soft and kind.

“Come with me,” she said, and Jason felt confusion course through him as his brows knitted together.

“What?”

(Y/N) pulled his grip away from the counter as if it were nothing and she tugged at his hand. “Come with me,” she repeated, this time a bit firmer and he had no control over his feet as he silently obeyed, letting her lead him down the long hallway until they stood at her door.

She opened it and pulled him inside her room, closing the door with her free hand. Jason had turned on the lights leading to the kitchen, so he had to blink a few times, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness in her room, but when they did, her room was the last place he wanted to be—mostly because Roy was curled up like a cat in her bed.

He tried to pull away, whispering, “(Y/N), please don’t—”

She shot him a look with those gleaming eyes and his mouth snapped shut, though his apprehension bubbled in his chest the closer she led him to her bed. They reached the edge and she pulled him towards her. He stepped forward, allowing her to maneuver him until his knees touched the edge and she placed her hands on his chest, shoving with enough force that if he wanted to stop himself, he had to try hard. Jason didn’t though and he fell back onto the mattress, momentarily glancing over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t wake Roy; he didn’t, and he looked back at her.

“(Y/N)?”

She pulled the shirt from her body, leaving her in her undergarments and she shoved at his shoulder.

“Lie down,” she commanded calmly, and despite everything in his bones screaming at him to get up and flee, he obeyed, albeit when his back hit the bed, he went still as a wooden beam.

“X’Hal, Jason. Relax.” She slipped into the bed beside him and pulled the covers up over the two of them as she pressed herself into Jason’s side, one leg sliding between his.

He wasn’t entirely sure what was happening at the moment, but when she reached across him and shoved Roy in the face until he woke up, something started to fall into place.

“Roy,” (Y/N) said and shoved him again, smirking slightly when the archer let out a grunt and cracked an eye open.

“What?” he muttered rather annoyed, glaring into her eyes.

She nodded at the man between them. “Jason is here.”

Roy blinked a few times. “I’m sorry?” he questioned, evidently not understanding it the first time.

(Y/N) grabbed Roy’s arm and hauled him until he collided with Jason and he wasn’t sure if it was himself or Roy who was more flustered at meeting each other’s gaze as she simply repeated, “Jason is here.”

Roy took a moment to fully understand what she was saying. “Jaybird?”

Jason pulled the most awkward smile he’d ever produced. “Roy.”

The archer looked between him and her then asked, “I thought we were going to talk to him together?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “He told me he loved us.”

Both men yelped at the same time, vastly different reactions words, but the feeling of shock was still the same. She was obviously unamused at the long, drawn-out moment and Jason remembered she hated wasting time when she gave him another look. She nodded at Roy and they stared each other down before he sighed and nodded, turning his face to Roy.

“She’s…right, Roy.” He let his fingers brush against the smooth skin of Roy’s wrist as he whispered, “I love you. I love both of you.”

He wasn’t sure what reaction was going to come out of Roy, but when the man sat up in the bed with a face-splitting grin, it was safe to say he was relieved.

Roy took Jason’s face in his hands. “You do?”

Jason nodded. “Yeah.”

The archer glanced at (Y/N) then back to him. “We were going to ask you to be with us later today, but we weren’t sure if you would respond positively or not.”

Jason blinked then turned his attention to (Y/N). “Like…for sex?”

She directed her gaze to the ceiling, and she let out the longest and most tired sigh he’d ever heard her make.

“If we wanted you to have sex with us, we would have asked a long time ago.” (Y/N) sat up slightly and lay against his chest. “No, we want you to be with us, Jason. Romantically.”

His eyes widened. “You want me to be with you two? Like a poly relationship?” Both of them nodded and he turned his head up to the ceiling, staring, unblinkingly.

“Do you think we killed his brain, (Y/N)?” Roy chuckled as he nudged her in the side and she snorted, gently rising until she was in Jason’s line of sight.

“Roy and I have not been seeing each other for a long time Jason, but even if we have not, we have noticed that something is missing, and that something is you.” (Y/N) caressed his cheek with the back of her hand and murmured, “We both share your affections. Greatly and strongly do we share them.”

She smiled and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “We love you, Jason.”

He took a second to gaze between her and Roy, his heart stuck in his throat and when he received the heartwarming smile from Roy, he looked back at her.

“You both really want me to be with you?” he sounded so scared, so ready to have the rug pulled out from underneath him with a horrible, tasteless joke, but (Y/N) merely nodded.

“We do, Jason.” She gave him a sympathetic look. “But if you wish to leave, you may. We will not be upset at your hesitancy or refusal.”

Roy placed a hand on Jason’s clothed chest and added, “We want you, Jason, but if you’re uncomfortable with it, we understand.” He smiled and reassured, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, Jaybird.”

They waited. Patiently. And it took Jason a few moments to remember how to breathe correctly again, but when he did, he nodded silently.

“I want to be here…with both of you,” he whispered and before he could even do a thing, the two of them had him caged between them, their heads resting on his shoulders, arms wrapped tightly around his middle.

But it wasn’t confining, it was comfortable, and it was loving. So loving that Jason’s eyes filled with tears and he shut them tight to avoid crying, but when his body began to shake, (Y/N) and Roy didn’t think twice before shifting and pressing their faces into his neck, showering him with praise and love-filled words.

And Jason fell asleep in the arms of the two people who he loved the most—and loved him as well.

[crab-instruments]

Dust in the Wind Part 5 (tbb)

Master <Part 4 Part 6>

Pairing: Hunter x Secret Jedi! Reader (GN)

Rating and warning: General audience, fighting, injury, panic/stress

Words: 2.2k

a/n: Action! We fight some people. Notes at the end. I hope the action is somewhat easy to follow and interesting.

My writing process involves me thinking of fight scenes as I listen to music while I walk, this one is choreographed to Rat A Tat by Fall Out Boy. This is unimportant and uninteresting but is how I get a lot of my ideas.

Surprisingly, this is the longest part of written and I cut it short. Thanks for all the likes and reblogs, y'all. Keeps me going.

Cid had given the Batch a mission to the Outer Rim. Tech had told the squad what planet but you had zoned out. Restarting your life every time something goes south was taking a toll on you and while your new crew was accommodating, it didn’t stop the stress of existing. You had gotten closer with the Batch on the trip to the next mission since it was a bit further out and you had time to get to comfortable. Wrecker and Omega seemed to enjoy your company the most, wanting to play games and share stories with you. Otherwise you helped Tech and Echo around the ship and chatted with them. Down times were spent with Hunter in the cockpit, watching hyperspace.

“Maxis… do you know how to sew?” Wrecker had caught you outside the armory, holding something behind his back.

You blinked, not used to seeing Wrecker so timid. “Uh yeah, I can sew. What do you need?” With a swift movement, he brought a red and black tooka doll between you. One of the arms had a rip in it, showing the stuffing inside.

His eyes looked sad as he said, “Lula got caught on a hook.”

“Ah, that should be easy. I can patch Lula up while you’re on your mission, so she’ll be ready when you get back.”

Wrecker smiled wide and pulled you into a hug. When you separated, he then held Lula out for you to take. As your hand touched the doll, your senses were overwhelmed with a rush of emotions and your head filled with memories that the doll contained. It stunned you for a moment and you had to close your eyes, not having experienced a force echo in a while. Luckily none of the memories were traumatic, just loud since Wrecker had strong emotions.

“Are you okay, Maxis?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, sorry. I was just thinking how cute Lula was,” you said with a smile.

The time between taking Lula from Wrecker and entering the planet’s atmosphere was fuzzy. Your mind was still on experiencing the force echo. Psychometry was a force ability that few Jedi had but most of the time it was a pain. You had to train a lot to get it under control when you were younger and when people found out about it, they wanted to do study you and learn everything about it they could. Since you had left the Jedi life and mostly disconnected with the Force, the echoes had dissipated. Having one suddenly didn’t sit well.

Tech’s voice grounded you back to the present as he alerted everyone he was landing the ship soon. Hunter appeared in the seat across from you, something in his hand. “This mission shouldn’t take very long, just a few hours. Here’s a comm, we will let you know when we are on our way back or if something goes wrong. I know you can’t fly but it would be useful if you could get the ship ready in case we need to leave in a hurry.” You nodded and took the comm. “Will you be okay, Maxis? I did say this would be dangerous. Although it’s unlikely, they could come to scout the Marauder.”

“Oh yeah. I’ll be fine. If anything goes wrong on my end I can let you know as well, though I bet the worst thing is I prick my finger sewing Lula together or shock myself with a live wire.” Hunter’s face softened and he seemed to relax a bit. Your eyes held his until the ship shook when it landed. When he got up, he put his hand on your shoulder for a moment before getting ready to head out.

You watched as they shuffled out of the ship, saying a quiet “be safe, please,” as they disappeared from your view.

The reality of being by yourself seemed to set in, making the Marauder daunting. There was Gonky, at least. Shaking that off, you settled in and got to work fixing up Lula’s arm. You made quick work, almost wishing you had more to work on. Taking apart the ship to make repairs was risky if they needed to leave quickly.

Slumping back in your chair, you held Lula in front of you. “What do you think I should do, Lula? I could go clean the air filter or organize the wires in one of the control panels, even though Tech does a pretty good job at color coding them. A few of the sensors could be looked at but… I’m still a little stumped on… why I got a force echo from you. You are special, I’m sure, but… I guess I could meditate for a bit, see if that helps clear things up.”

You crossed your legs in the chair and put Lula in your lap. Meditating was supposed to be relaxing, but it was harder to find a calm now. It felt empty, in a way. You tried hard though, seeking an answer as to why now.

After a few moments, your eyes shot open. Something was wrong. You gasped for breath the feeling of overwhelming apprehension. Someone was heading toward the ship. Three, maybe four, people and they didn’t feel like your crew. Hunter did say he would alert you when they came back and it hasn’t been that long.

Swiftly, you got to your feet and headed towards the cockpit where the comm was still sitting on a chair. However, you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a white bucket helmet walk around the front of the ship through the windshield. Troopers. Your heart pounded in your ears and you sank quickly to the floor. The fear of being caught by the Empire was arguably your biggest fear, they hunted Jedi ruthlessly, even hearing about troopers trained to fight Jedi specifically.

A noise came from where the entrance ramp was, they were trying to get on the ship. You remembered that Tech had told you about an escape hatch in the cockpit, so you quietly crawled to it and lifted it up. You did your best to make sure that you were in the clear and dropped down.

“Dank farrik! It’ll be another minute to open the hatch,” one of the troopers exclaimed. It seemed the others were spread out around the area, so making a run for it wasn’t necessarily the smartest decision but taking on four troopers by yourself wasn’t wise either. Close quarters combat was a strength of yours, training to not depend on your lightsaber was a priority for your Master. Long range combat would be more of a struggle, as your shooting accuracy left something to be desired. One of the reasons you ended up leaving the Order was it became less about peace keeping and more about being a soldier, and the senseless death had caught up to you.

You did your best to keep calm. Everything in your body told you to run, escape, survive, but… what about the ship? This was your home now. Hunter… the squad… depended on this ship. If you didn’t do something to protect it, what would happen?

Unfortunately for you, the choice to run or fight was taken from you, when the trooper noticed you crouching by the front of the ship.

“Hey! Foun—” before he could finish his sentence, you rushed him. The trooper had his blaster pulled out when he saw you. You used the element of surprise to go for a disarm, checking his blaster arm with your left, getting your right hand on the opposite side to redirect his hand. The blaster clearing your stomach as you brought your right arm across your body. While sweeping with your right, you used your left to get a grip of his wrist. With this, you were able to free your right hand to strip the blaster from him, squeezing his wrist to force his hand lose and you were able to swipe it out of his grasp. Once the blaster was out of his hand, you pulled his left arm back, hooked your foot behind his right to destabilize him, and then gripped the front of his armor tightly to put as much power as you could into pushing him into the ground, you kneeling next to him. While not quiet strong enough to knock him out, it was enough to stun him for a moment since you used his and your weight against him.

You heard a movement behind the ship, the other troopers had been alerted. Scrambling for the blaster, you switched it to stun and shot twice, knocking out one trooper. The third trooper came from around the front of the ship and shot. You had just enough time to twist your body and dodge a majority of the shot, but it still skinned your left arm, leaving a nice wound for later. Two more shots from you to knock him out.

While your arm screamed in pain, you had one last trooper to deal with. Keeping crouched, you rounded the front of the ship.

“Freeze!” The trooper was right in front of you and you were staring down the barrel. Kark! Slowly, you put your hands up in a half surrender, but in that moment you thought of a plan.

“Catch!” You tossed the blaster towards him and the trooper, confused, went to catch it. You pulled your knife out of your thigh holster and rushed him. Using his now bent knee, you jumped and wrapped your legs around his mid-section, using the boost of the jump to shove him to the ground. You pressed the blade to his neck, ready, but hesitated. You couldn’t follow through, even when your life seemed to depend on it.

No good deed goes unpunished. The trooper pushed you off but you land within arms reach of your fallen blaster and you made quick work of stunning him.

For a moment, you sat there, breathing heavily and you hands shaking. Your pulse raged in your ears and adrenaline rushed through your veins.

Achievement Unlocked: You protected the Havoc Marauder! But now what? And what if… the squad finds out? Something about them knowing you took down the troopers didn’t sit right. The odds were stacked against you, what if they start getting suspicious? What if… What if Hunter gets mad?

Checking the trooper in front of you, you found a pair of handcuffs. More than likely they would all have handcuffs and you could move their bodies away from the ship, effectively disposing of them.

One by one, you dragged the troopers bodies away, putting them in some foliage after handcuffing one arm and the opposite ankle behind their back. Hopefully this would keep them relatively immobilized when they woke up. After moving the last one, you could no longer handle the pain of the blaster shot and headed to the ship.

You looked for the med kit and handled it with shaky hands. After applying the bacta and patching it up, you did your best to hide the wound with your sleeve. You then went to your backpack and grabbed the small notebook and pencil. Something about writing felt better than using a holopad, so this is where you kept your notes for supplies and such. Though it was difficult, you wrote ‘bacta and bandages’ to your supplies list. Hopefully they wouldn’t get mad at you using their supplies but just in case, you would just silently replace it. No one would know.

As everything seemed to wear off, all you wanted to do was crawl into a small area and hide. You found an area between some crates and sank down, willing yourself to melt into the floor. In an effort to calm yourself, you muttered a few bars of the song that had stuck with you.

“♪ Same old song

Just a drop of water in an endless sea

All we do

Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind

All we are is dust in the wind ♪”

A beep cut into your thoughts. “Maxis, come in, do you read me?” Hearing his voice, you became renewed with a sort of energy. You stood up, walked over to the cockpit once more, and grabbed the comm. “Loud and clear, Hunter.”

“Great, we’re done and on our way back, we had a small set back but no other problems.”

“I’ll start up the ship for you.”

************************************************************************

When Hunter and the squad got close, Hunter sense something was off. He signaled for the group to halt as he went to go investigate. Hearing some slow breathing from a few sources, he approached the bush carefully and paused when he noticed four knocked out troopers tied up chaotically. Tech noticed Hunter’s hesitation and walked forward.

“What did you fin—Oh. How did four Imperial Troopers end up here? You don’t supposed they went for the Marauder and Maxis took them out?”

“Who else would have? Four troopers… they have the strength to take out four troopers by themselves?” Hunter sounded bewildered. He finally looked at Tech, “Maxis didn’t attempt to alert us and I missed it, did they?”

“No, but it could have been inconvenient at the time. However, there wouldn’t be a reason why they wouldn’t have contacted us after dealing with the situation. Perhaps something else went wrong.”

With that, Hunter signaled the rest of the crew to board the ship with caution.

Part 6 _______________________________________________________

Notes:

Psychometry/Force Echo: This is the next Jedi Fallen Order reference, also seen in 1 or 2 episodes of TCW. I based the reader's ability from the game. Fight scene choreo: Warning, video contains fighting scenes. I love MGS and specifically the CQC in MGSV. For this scene, the first disarm is a combo of the moves described in 1:08 (beginning) and 4:01 (ending). It was mainly supposed to be the second one but the arms are switched so as an artist of my craft, I must adapt. The last move is mostly just the Peter Pan jump from 5:23. I tried to describe the action as best as I could without being like "left right must left right" but here is the visual aspect of it.

[artificialqueens]

Come Through Like the Sweetener You Are (Gottrosnali) - Writworm42

A/N: hey everyone! I’m really excited about this ship and about this fic, so I hope y'all like it. Title from Sweetener by Ariana Grande. Thank you thank you x1000 to Holtz for beta-ing, encouraging me, and brainstorming with me, you’re the best <3

“Mik, seriously, get on the ice. C’mon.”

Denali stays planted at the entrance of the rink, arms crossed as he watches his boyfriend shrink back shyly once again. If they hadn’t been at this for several minutes now, the sight of Mik so flustered and vulnerable, his ankles wobbling from the effort of holding himself up in his rental hockey skates and teeth chattering from the cold would have been pretty cute. It’s rare, seeing Mik this daunted by something, and it reminds Denali of the little kids he used to teach when he was a teenager. But, much like those kids after a six week cycle of classes, it’s starting to get old now, and they need to move—free-skate is starting to get crowded, and every passing skater that shoves their way past them seems to spook Mik just a little more.

He has to get Mik onto the ice, otherwise, he’s gonna have to get off it, and their skating date will be over before it’s even started.

“It’s okay, D, let me handle this, yeah?” Rosé comes up behind Mik just then, striding out from the changing room with a sympathetic smile on his face, as if he had anticipated the standoff. Knowing Rosé, he probably has, really—but Denali isn’t going to let him know that. He doesn’t need both his boyfriends ganging up on him, after all.

That’s a problem for another time, though; right now, Denali focuses on just shuffling to the side of the rink while Rosé wraps his arms around Mik, leaning over to kiss the smaller man on his temple.

“You okay, baby?” he checks in softly, giving Mik a little squeeze.

“I’m okay, I’m just…”

“You don’t need to be scared, sweetheart. D’s a pro, remember? And I’m here, too. We’ll make sure you’re safe, promise—Denali’s gonna be holding your hands, and I’m gonna be behind guarding your waist.”

Denali would be lying if he said he isn’t jealous of the way Rosé is with Mik in these moments, how easy it seems for him to make the other man relax. It’s not like he’s being mean, after all—he’s been coaxing and encouraging Mik ever since finding out that he’s never skated before. But for some reason, with Rosé in the mix, it just…clicks.

“Okay, I’ll go,” Mik sighs, rolling his eyes theatrically, “but only if Denali promises not to let go of my hand.”

The glimmer of validation and knowing he’s needed is enough to make Denali feel warm to the core as he glides forward, stops to take Mik’s hand. “I won’t, promise.”

“There’s a good boy,” Rosé teases, and Denali can’t help but giggle at how Mik blushes fiercely at the praise.

He leads Mik to toe-step onto the ice, marching him in place until they’re safely away from the entrance and off to the side in the back area of the rink, near the walls of the learner’s corner.

“So, like, can I hold onto—“

“Nope, we’re not letting you get into the habit.” Denali steels his grip on Mik’s hand as the man tries to reach for the rink’s walls, watching him pout as his attempts are thwarted. “You won’t be able to skate as well if you’re hugging the wall the whole time, trust me.”

“I’m not gonna skate that well as is.“ Mik huffs under his breath, but it’s no use protesting—all three of them know that Denali’s not going to hear it.

No, if he’s going to teach his boyfriend how to skate, then he’s going to do it right. Especially since realistically, being an LA boy at heart, Mik will likely never set foot on the ice again after today, so Denali really does only have this one shot.

Luckily, he’s dealt with enough kids by now to know how to get them comfortable.

“Let’s just start with some marches on the spot, yeah? C’mon, Rosie and I’ll do it with you.” he nods over to Rosé, and the both of them lift up their feet in sync, quiet chk-chk-chk noises echoing off the ice.

Mik watches hesitantly before finally throwing caution to the wind and joining them in their steps. He beams as he does, and Denali can’t help the pride that blooms in his chest—his sweetheart’s a natural, after all.

Of course, it’s at that very moment that Mik slips and starts to scramble, eyes wide until Rosé catches him around the waist.

“Oh shit.” Mik lets out a shaky laugh as Rosé pushes him back up with Denali’s help. “Not me almost dying with my boyfriends fully hanging onto me.”

“You didn’t almost die,” Rosé snorts, rolling his eyes, “We caught you, right?”

“And we’ll do it again, as much as we have to,” Denali chimes in, and Mik must know he means it, because even though he rolls his eyes, he smiles gently, his eyes soft and glowing with trust.

“Okay, from the top, let’s try marching forward now.” Rosé cuts through the tender moment with a light tap to Mik’s ass, grinning widely.

“Perv.” Mik launches over his shoulder, sticking out his tongue and scrunching up his nose, but he starts to step again.

They continue like that around the learner’s area for a length or so, Mik occasionally tripping up and needing to stop to hyperventilate for a moment before they can keep going, until they finally settle into a smooth rhythm that tells Denali that Mik is ready for something more. In fact, he’s pretty excited for it–even just over this small period of time, Mik’s confidence has definitely grown, and even though he’s kept a death-grip on Denali’s hands, Rosé has long gone from holding onto Mik to simply keeping his arms up close to him just in case, and Mik hasn’t actually seemed to notice. It makes Denali’s heart swell with pride, and when he looks into his boyfriend’s eyes and sees the excitement shining in them, he can’t help but feel warm inside, remembering how exciting it was for him the first time he’d moved on the ice, way back when.

“What do you think, Rosie, is he ready for gliding?” Denali peeks over at Rosé, whose hands have dropped completely from Mik’s waist and are now shoved into her jacket pockets.

“Oh, I think he’s ready for gliding,” Rosé grins, “Mik, you ready for gliding?”

Mik turns around to look at Rosé and almost falls again, but this time steadies himself, letting out a disbelieving laugh when he gets back upright. “After this gorge performance?” he strikes a pose, framing his face, “You guys, I’m so ready to gl–”

Before he can finish his sentence, a kid barely reaching his hip-level whizzes past, displaying excellent control and holding her leg up for one, two, three seconds before coming to a perfect stop in front of her parents.

It’s probably the longest Mik has ever gone without talking, the silence once again only broken by Rosé beginning to sing wake up in the morning, thinkin’ ‘bout so many things, followed by Mik and Denali both bursting out in laughter.

“So now that we’ve had our little self-aware gag moment, should we get to gliding?” Mik wipes a tear from his eye as the laughter dies down, and Denali and Rosé only nod before re-assuming their positions around him.

Denali tightens his grip on Mik’s hand but skates a little farther out to widen the distance between them and Rosé skates up from behind to bring his hands near Mik’s waist, not yet touching but ready to catch him just in case, and they feel the air around them change, Mik visibly relaxing at the re-institution of his safety net.

Of course the same kid chooses that very moment to whizz past them again while sporting a huge, shit-eating grin, and Denali has to wonder if she’s doing it on purpose now.

“Is it rude to trip a child?” Rosé ponders out loud, perhaps a little too loudly. “D, it’s good practice for them, right? Learning how to fall and get up?”

The kid stops mid-skate and changes her direction, and Denali has to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek not to laugh again.

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get to gliding.”

Denali watches over his boyfriends’ shoulders as the kid glides out of the learner’s corner to join the regular circuit, and feels a little relief at how much safer it suddenly seems, with only wall-clingers, other marchers, and toddlers with tired parents left. Good; he can finally focus on Mik again. “Ready?”

“Gorge, let’s do it.” Mik nods resolutely, and Denali begins to pull him forward, grinning from ear to ear as Mik lets out a little squeal of excitement and pride as they begin to move.

—

“Okay, now sit here, behave yourselves, and stay quiet. ” Denali points sternly over to the bleachers by the rink, frowning at Mik and Rosé and hoping that his tone is enough for them to take him seriously.

Predictably, though, both of them just grin mischievously, blowing on their hot chocolates casually as if they’re not already dreaming up ways to embarrass him as Rosé shrugs, “No promises.”

“I swear to God—“

“Go practice, D. We’ll be perfectly behaved little angels, I swear,” Mik cuts in, batting his eyelashes innocently, and Denali resists the urge to snort at the statement.

He wishes he could believe them, he really does, but he also knows these clowns better than that by now, and knows that he is in for at least one shout of ‘ HE ON X GAMES!!’ before he steps off the ice again.

He doesn’t have time for skepticism, though—for better or for worse, it’s time for his practice session, and he had promised Rosé and Mik that they could watch.

Rosé and Mik have seen Denali perform a hundred times. Even before Denali and Rosé had started dating Mik, he had come to all of Denali’s shows with Rosé to support him, and to this day, they both hang onto the edge of their seats when Denali skates, taking him out for drinks after and excitedly retelling how gorge that triple lutz was or how much they loved his costume or how proud they were of him. They had learned everything about skating, all the terminology and competition rules. They know exactly what Denali likes to do to unwind after a long day of rehearsals, how to facilitate his pre-audition routine and what he needs to hear before and after one.

And yet, there’s something about his practices, especially the one-on-ones, that feel…sacred. Vulnerable. Like they’re for his and his coach’s eyes only. Like if anyone is around to see him fall flat on his ass, fuck up a combo so bad the whole rest of the number is thrown, then something will click for the spectator, a realization that he’s not so talented after all.

For those spectators to be his boyfriends? Well, sure, realistically, he knows that they would never think that about him. They’re his partners, after all, and they’re human too. He’s been in the house when Rosé is practicing a song and his voice cracks, and he’s walked in on Mik trying new makeup techniques that look… less than gorge, he’ll put it that way. In both of those moments, he’s never thought anything about either of them except that their efforts and dedication are adorable, and that for sure, they’ll get it next time.

But still–they’ve got confidence in him, think that he’s perfect. They’ve never seen him slam into the wall because he put too much power into his travelling, or wobble on his feet and make a messy landing because he hesitated on one of his jumps. Even the thought that they might see him imperfect–that they might get disappointed in him, that their image of him might change, is so painful it makes it hard to breathe.

No, when he’s on the ice performing, he’s untouchable. Above everything. Queen of the world. And if there’s two people in the world he doesn’t want to shatter that image for, it’s the his boyfriends sitting at the end of the rink, already whipping their phones out to record him stretching.

Oh, God. Now if he messes up, everyone on Instagram will see it.

He swivels around to face away from the windows of the rink and put his boyfriends out of his mind as he begins to stretch, bending down to touch the tips of his bare fingers to the frigid, freshly-smoothed ice, only to almost topple over when Rosé’s voice echoes through the rink.

“ YES, SHOW US THAT ASS, MAMA! GET FLEXIBLE!”  

Christ.

Well, he’s still got about a half hour left to warm up and practice on his own before his coach shows up. Might as well give those two fools a show.

He brings his leg up and stretches it above his head easily without holding onto the wall, and grins when he hears both men absolutely lose their shit, screaming and praising and probably making a million boomerangs. He almost wishes he could turn back to see the looks on their faces, really, though he knows he’d probably fall if he did. So instead, he drops his foot and does it on his other side, this time pulling it a little farther so that it’s behind his head, and it strains a bit, but it’s manageable, and the way Mik and Rosé’s screams get even louder makes it completely worth it.

“Three words: Gag. A. Tondra !” Denali hears Mik shout, either straight to him or to his phone, but suddenly, it doesn’t matter. This is the most fun he’s ever had just stretching, and when he’s laughing and smiling like this, it’s easy to forget where he is and what he had even been nervous about in the first place. So he can be a bit of a show-off at times—sue him. He’s living for it more and more with every stretch, and he finds himself getting excited to actually start skating.

He begins to mark his latest routine, spinning lightly and moving his hands to signal every jump as he looks down at the ice, trying to remember every move. It’s a new routine, one he’s only just fully learned but has to perform at an opening gala in two weeks, so he needs to have it perfect, and soon. Especially since he has a group routine for the same gala knocking around in his head, too, and he can’t let them get mixed up. It makes his chest tighten a little just at the thought of it, his attention so completely absorbed in his run through that he’s startled when he hears the boom of the rink’s gate swing open, surprised enough to lose his footing and stumble, tripping over his skates and falling to the ground.

Shit, fuck, and shit again. Not even half an hour into his practice and he’s already fucked up right in front of Mik and Rosé. And just when he was doing so well, knocking them dead with barely any actual stunts yet. They must think he’s stupid, getting scared by something as stupid as a noise he’s so used to, and now he’s lost his train of thought and can’t remember where he was in his routine—

“Go on, Nali! You can do this!”

“You’re doing amazing, sweetie!”

“We love you!”

His head snaps up to see Mik and Rosé standing up, clapping their hands and smiling warmly as they shout their encouragement across the room. It hits him then, exactly what Mik and Rosé have been cheering on this whole time. Not his success, not the flashy tricks and stunts he knows he can blow anyone away with. Not even his talent, really.

They’ve been cheering for his effort. For his enjoyment. For his passion. For the Denali they see on the ice whether he’s in his head or not, regardless of whether his movements are graceful or sloppy. The thing they’ve been enjoying most, so enthusiastic about this whole time?

It’s not figure skating. It’s Denali. He could be doing anything anywhere, and they’d be screaming and cheering and supporting him no matter what, because they don’t care what he’s doing–they just care that it’s him.

“Quite the cheering section, huh?” his coach steps out towards him, grinning as she looks over towards where Mik and Rosé are still watching, still waving and making hearts with their hands every time Denali looks over, and it’s all he can do not to get emotional when he smiles widely, nodding.

“Yeah. The best.”

And Hell, maybe it’s luck, maybe it’s just how happy he is. Maybe Mik and Rosé are just that good an influence to have around. Either way, that practice session is definitely his best one yet.

–

The first thing Denali does the minute they all step back into their apartment that evening is make a beeline for the couch to collapse. He feels the fatigue sinking down into his bones the minute his body hits the cushions, making him heavy yet content, happy to wriggle and get comfy before letting the exhaustion of the day fully wash over him. There’s something satisfying about being in this state, so spent from such a fun day. It’s like every memory he’s made today is carried in his muscles even this long after the adventure is over, each sigh he lets out a catalogue of every laugh, every smile, every bit of happiness he’d experienced in his adventures.

Not to mention how when he’s this tired, Rosé and Mik are eager to spoil him, but that’s besides the point.

“Can we get you anything, baby?” Rosé comes up behind the couch, reaching down to run a gentle hand through Denali’s hair. “Some dinner, maybe? Tea? A massage?”

“Will that last option come with a happy ending?” Denali jokes slyly, turning his head just in time to see Rosé roll his eyes, laughing a bit to himself.

“As much as I’d love that, this bitch is tired too, mama. Now scoot over a bit, make some room for me.”

“Mm.” Denali kicks his legs a little in protest, but obliges, pulling himself up on the couch just enough to give Rosé room to kneel over him comfortably. Within moments, Denali is melting under the other man’s touch, letting Rosé’s hands work the knots and fatigue from his back and shoulders slowly, tenderly, exactly the way he needs.

“Where’s Mik, by the way?” Denali ponders as Rosé begins to ease off, content with his work and how Denali has gone limp from it. It’s rare not to hear from Mik this long, not have him bounce around and whine for attention of his own from both of his partners, so Denali can’t help but feel a little suspicious at the quiet. If Mik is occupied, he’s either focusing on something or doing something he shouldn’t be, and if it’s the latter, then–

The smoke alarm answers Denali’s question before Rosé can so much as open his mouth.

“Shit, shit, SORRY!” Mik calls out from the kitchen. “Don’t worry you guys, I got this–”

“You’re supposed to be making ramen!” Rosé calls back over the shrill beep of the alarm, followed by a chair scraping along the kitchen floor. “How the fuck did you burn ramen?”

The smoke alarm goes quiet, and Denali has to cover his mouth from laughing as Mik protests, “I saw this gorgeous recipe that Ariana posted for this like, pan-fried noodles artistry moment, and I thought, hey, ramen is noodles, so why not?”

“Gee, I dunno, maybe ‘cause you’ll burn the apartment down?” Rosé pinches the bridge of his nose, but Denali can see that he’s trying not to smile.

“Well I didn’t, so crisis averted, problem solved.” Mik whips around the corner and points a fork at them with narrow eyes, and Denali can’t hold it anymore–he lets out a loud string of giggles, which become howls of laughter when Mik stamps his foot, pouting and demanding that Denali stop laughing at him. After a second, though, Rosé joins in, and then even Mik can’t resist letting out a chuckle despite himself.

“Okay baby, sit down with Denali, let the adults handle this.” Rosé teases as he heaves himself up from his position on the couch, tapping the cushion beside him to invite Mik over.

“Hey, I’m an adult!” Mik pouts, but Rosé doesn’t respond, only walks up to Mik to give him a little kiss before patting him on the head.

“Of course you are, sweetie,” he coos, pulling away just in time to narrowly avoid a swat from Mik. “Seriously, though, I’ll be right back–why don’t you and D pick something to watch in the meantime?”

Mik doesn’t look particularly satisfied with the suggestion, but makes his way over to the couch nonetheless. Denali watches him come over, even extends his arms out for his boyfriend to walk into, but it’s then that he realizes his mistake. Mik’s pout fades, and a glint of mischief shines in his eyes, and before Denali can shield himself, Mik pounces, landing pretty much in Denali’s lap and attacking him with a hug.

“Hi, gorge.” Mik’s voice is soft as he nuzzles into Denali, a dreamy smile on his face. It’s precious, really, the way Mik is glowing as he squeezes Denali tight, and Denali can’t help but run a hand through the shorter man’s hair before peppering a light kiss on the top of his head.

“Did you have fun today, baby?”

Denali pulls Mik just a little closer, his heart melting at the little mm of satisfaction Mik lets out as the closing of distance between them allows him to splay out a little, head resting on Denali’s shoulder. It’s almost enough to distract from the sudden uptick in Denali’s heart rate that he can feel, the stakes resting on the question suddenly sinking in for him. This day, after all, was a way of letting Mik into his world, more up-close than the LA native ever had before. And he really, really wants Mik to like that world.

Luckily, his fears are put to rest when Mik nods, his dopey, tired grin taking on a spark of excitement as he reassures Denali, “It was great, D. I loved it. Almost as much as I love you.”

Denali rolls his eyes at the cheesy line, but nonetheless, when Mik cranes up to kiss him on the cheek, he feels a rush of happiness swell in his chest. Not just at the fact that Mik had enjoyed their day, but also the fact that it is ending like this - curled up on the couch with his boyfriend leaning against him, craning up to give him playful, light kisses wherever he can plant them. Still, there’s something missing, another presence that would make this cozy scene truly home. Something, some one that would cuddle him in turn, hold him and squeeze him and–

“Are you guys cuddle-piling without me?” Rosé puts his hand to his chest as he gasps in mock-offense, propping a tray of piping-hot ramen cups against his body with his other arm. Denali laughs a little, because it’s cute how pouty Rosé looks at the prospect of being left out of all this affection, but he answers nonetheless by letting go of Mik briefly, extending his arms out and making grabby hands to invite Rosé to join them.

“Yay, sandwich!” Mik squeals with delight as Rosé gets on the other side of him, wrapping his arms around Mik and just reaching Denali’s waist with his fingers. It’s enough to make Denali melt, even the light contact enough to feel like he’s home. He lets out a contented sigh, wiggling a little to get comfortable and shimmy just a little more into Rosé’s outstretched hands, before he relaxes fully, his eyes fluttering closed as he feels his breath sync with his boyfriends’, their hearts beating almost as one.

“We should probably eat before the ramen gets cold, right?” Mik speaks up after a moment, but makes no attempt to move, and Denali just smiles, shaking his head.

“Let it keep cooling. I wanna stay like this for a little longer.”

[lunarsaga]

EPISODE 2: Angel Among Demons

HOLY SHIT THIS BITCH IS LONG, HAVE FUN Y'ALL~ a very quick note, I wanted to work in more of Luna being bilingual, so when you see [text in brackets like this] that means that she's speaking in english. (This will only happen in her perspective—no one save Kagome will know what she's saying.)

ENJOY!!!

================================

“Luna, please tell me again why you have to go off on your own.” Kagome set her hands on her hips.

Luna sighed as she slung her shotgun holster over her shoulder and held up her sheathed short sword. “Technically I don’t have to. But if you all are stopping to rest, go ahead and rest. I’m just needing some practice with my sword—it’s been a while since I’ve even held a katana.”

“Shouldn’t you save your energy as well?” Miroku asked her. “We have quite a journey ahead of us, it seems.”

Luna shook her head. “I’m too restless to sit around right now. Besides, if we’re headed toward a fight, you’re gonna want me at the top of my game.”

“Just stay close, okay?” Kagome pleaded. “I can sense a demonic aura somewhere in the area.”

Luna tucked her sword into a belt loop on her jeans, offering her sister a little finger gun. “That is what the shotgun’s for, little sis. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

As it turns out, she wasn’t… wrong. But that didn’t mean her little solo workout wouldn’t be entirely uneventful.

She walked a little ways away from where the group was, taking a second to appreciate the surrounding nature. Even back where her dad’s place was—in upstate New York—the forests weren’t quite like this. Not only was the scenery beautiful, but the air was about ten times clearer than she was used to. Truly beautiful.

She found a nice little spot among the trees: a little clearing, mostly clear of rocks or anything she could trip or fall on, and no grass or mud to slip on while she was moving around, just dry dirt. There was a little sapling, just big enough to be a practice dummy while she worked on her form. She dropped her gun out of the way, and shucked off the flannel shirt she was wearing. With that tied around her waist, she was left in just a pair of yoga pants and a tank top.

“Alright girl,” She said, repeating words that had been said to her so many times over the years: “Let’s get to work.”

She wasn’t afraid to admit that she’d gotten rusty. In her era, she only really ever needed her modern weapons; the only reason she even had a Katana was because the rare occasion called for it. Well, this was certainly a situation that called for it.

“Sorry, tree,” she chuckled to herself, “but you’re young, you’ll heal. Life, uh...” She drew her sword, twirling it in a figure eight around her body. “...finds a way.”

It was easy for her to get lost in her training. This often happened when she did repetitive drills or workouts: the movements came rather naturally, so she could zone out and lose herself in it. It might’ve been an hour, could’ve been more than two; she wasn’t sure.

“Fighting with a katana isn’t like what you see in the movies.” That was the first thing her father had taught her when he’d given her this sword—almost ten years prior. “It’s all about moving your feet.”

She sliced an arc through the air, envisioning her sapling opponent swinging a sword as well.

“Strike fast, and dodge faster.”

As the imaginary blade “swung” her way, she ducked the blow, feet sliding across the dirt. She paused for a second, hand extended in front of her and sword raised above her head, parallel to the ground. She smirked, steadying her breathing. She remembered being thirteen and how it felt to actually wield this sword for the first time...

“You and your sister are special,” her father had told her, “you can learn to see with your other senses.”

As a young teen, she’d laughed at that. “Like using the Force? Like a Jedi?”

“Just like that.”

The Jedi thing seemed like a joke at the time. But as she grew older, she learned it was more serious than she could have ever guessed.

“Everything gives off an energy called an Aura. The more powerful something is, the easier it is to sense.”

Before she could swing again, she froze. Speaking of auras, she was picking up on a rather strong one—and it was headed in her direction. She heard no sound—other than the wind rustling through the trees and the occasional call of an animal in the distance—but this strong sense of foreboding was unmistakable. Her ears were burning, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end as a chill ran down her spine.

A demon, no doubt. And a powerful one at that.

“It’s not enough to sense its presence. Focus. Close your eyes. Where is it coming from?”

Right… over… There!

Without even looking, she whirled and flung her sword directly at the source of the demonic aura. The blade struck something—she heard the thunk—but she didn’t wait to look. She immediately dove for her shotgun, tossed the holster, and caught herself in a roll. She was solidly crouched on her knees and the balls of her feet, with the gun cocked before she looked up at the demon she’d chucked her blade at.

“Thought you could sneak up on me, huh?” She snorted. Then, she actually took in the sight of him.

First of all, her blade hadn’t even come close to hitting him. It was currently embedded in a tree trunk—just barely, it looked like it could fall at any second— about six or seven feet from where the actual demon was standing.

The first thing she noticed about him was the sheer amount of white on his person. Pristine white linen kimono, hakama of the same fabric cinched around his ankles,  an enormous (and fluffy-looking) pelt of fur over his shoulder, and silvery-white hair cascading down his back. On top of all that, he wore armor that Luna supposed was meant to be intimidating— but to her, it just looked ridiculous.

And his face. He was positively gorgeous, which was incredibly confusing given that the feeling of dread she was getting from his aura hadn’t gone away. His eyes were a striking shade of gold—but cold as a polar ice cap. He had markings on his face—two magenta on each cheek, and an indigo crescent moon on his forehead.

“You’re in my way,” he said. Even his voice was cold, albeit resonant. “Move.”

For a second, Luna forgot she had a voice. Silent as her lips were, her mind was racing, trying to do the math: What the actual fuck— why is he so pretty? He’s a demon! Demons ain’t usually this damn pretty! Who the fuck gave him permission to look like that— it’s a Tuesday for fuck’s sake!

Almost a solid thirty seconds had gone by, and Luna realized she still hadn’t said anything. Oh, fuck, okay, stop just fuckin’ staring at him and say something, you idiot— so, of course, the most intelligent thing that she could say at that moment was: “...huh?”

Those frigid, golden eyes sparked just the tiniest bit of annoyance. “I said move.”

Her grip on her gun loosened just the tiniest bit, and she straightened up just a little. After a small glance around the enormous forest surrounding them, she made an amused face at him. “What? Dude, there’s a whole forest, just go around me.”

She uncocked her shotgun, stretching her legs to stand up.

“You have quite the audacious nerve for a human.” And he sounded none too happy about that. “Get out of my way.”

Luna sighed, “And you seem to like repeating yourself. I’m doin’ something here, so unless you feel like getting your demonic energy purified today, I’d suggest you take abouuut...” she pursed her lips, pretending to judge the distance with her pointer finger. “Five? Six steps to the right? It won’t be that hard on you, I promise. No one will think less of you.”

Now she was just being facetious, which was more than likely going to cause problems for her in the future—knowing how demons tended to be—but she had absolute faith in her weapon and her own skill. With an aura as strong as his, it wasn’t likely that her sacred salt rounds would do more than wound him, but sometimes that was at least enough to scare off some spirits.

When he didn’t respond, she figured he was just going to swallow his pride and take her advice. She was about to set her shotgun down and go back to practicing, but the Bad Feeling roiling in her gut got worse. It wasn’t just the buzz of a demonic aura anymore, the energy started crackling with even more malice, and she swore there was a sickly smell in the air for a split second before she felt it pop.

Her instincts screamed at her to move, so she spun to the side, almost as if her body moved on its own. What looked like a whip made of pure green light zipped close enough to her that she felt the heat on her cheek. When it didn’t stop, neither did she; she jumped back and nearly fell over backwards trying to bend out of the way of the second snap of the whip. This time, she didn’t hesitate to cock her gun and fire.

The air was still for a second as the shot rang in her ears, tension crackling and fizzling out like the tails of fireworks. When Luna regained her balance, she aimed and pumped again to ready the second shell. No distraction this time, she was aiming straight for his face.

She expected him to be at least a little startled—hell, she could see she’d blasted the end of his sleeve off, and there was a surface burn on his hand from the Sacred Salt packed into her ammunition. His claws were still bared, still glowing green from where he’d lashed at her. What was frustrating, was that he didn’t seem like he was more than mildly perturbed.

“...how did you do that?”

She growled at him: “Sacred Salt, you wanna see it up close? Try me again, fucker.”

“Vulgar.” His voice was flat, but he did finally move… but not to walk around her. He stepped forward like he was trying to inspect her. “You are a priestess, I assume.”

“Nah, I ain’t that pretty and nice,” Luna said, keeping her stance and line of fire. “Call me a Demon Slayer, or a witch if you like. Names don’t matter, the end result will be the same.”

He’d moved to point-blank range, but that horrible feeling in her gut had only grown stronger—her instincts were telling her to run the fuck away, but logic told her the point was moot. She only had one shell left, and the first hadn’t amounted to more than a scrape on him. Even at this range, she’d never do much more than scratch him.

“Whatever name you take matters not to me,” He continued, “regardless. You are still human. And as such you are no match for my power. I will give you one more chance to get out of my way, or you will die.”

There was another tense moment of silence. Luna could feel her heart beating from her ears, to her toes, to the tip of her trigger finger. Resolute as she was—and as much as she so desperately wanted to wipe that calm, detached look off this proud asshole’s face—she knew she wasn’t making it out of here alive if she didn’t stand down. And it’d be kind of a lame-ass thing to say when she got to the afterlife: “How did I die? Oh, I refused to back down from a standoff with a super-powerful demon because I didn’t wanna give him the satisfaction of telling me what to do.”

“Fine.” She huffed, uncocking her gun and stepping out of the way. She sneered at him as she rested the gun on her shoulder. “But not because you told me to. I’m gonna be late for dinner if I don’t head back.”

The air was still thick with tension as she went to grab her sword. She didn’t look back at him, but she was hyper aware of his presence. Thankfully, this time, there was no climactic snapping of the tense energy; as she pulled her sword from the tree trunk, she felt his aura receding. When it was far enough away, she heaved a sigh of relief and let her shoulders relax.

“One of these days, girl, your pride is gonna get your ass killed!”

Luna rolled her eyes as she went back to collect her holster and her katana’s sheath. “I know, Alice,” she muttered to herself.

~ ~ ~

This was why Rin didn’t like humans.

She had only been minding her own business! She needed to eat, so she’d been foraging through the forest like she always did. She didn’t realize that she’d wandered so far away from Master Jaken and Ah-Un until she looked up, arms full of foraging spoils, and realized she had no idea where she was.

She tried to retrace her steps, calling out for Master Jaken and Lord Sesshomaru every once in a while, but it didn’t help. She remembered passing by a human village before, but she made a mistake in trying to use that as a way of finding her way back to where they had stopped. Because when she passed the village, she was confronted by some men that lived there.

“You’re the one we saw earlier, with those demons!” One of them said, “Child, you should not be living among them!”

Oh no. Rin began to back away from them, but they only drew closer. One of them cut off the path she was walking on.

The one closest to her was looming over her. “You should come with us. Demons are dangerous, you could be killed or eaten!”

“No, I won’t!” Rin said. She might’ve been trembling, but she was firm. “I won’t go with you, and I’m fine on my own!”

“Don’t be silly, you’re far too young!”

“Where are your parents?”

“If you tell us, perhaps we can help you return to them.”

“I don’t need your help.” Rin kept backing away, hoping to put enough distance between herself and the men. She clutched the little bundle of food closer to her and prepared to run. “Leave me alone!” Valiant as her attempt to escape was, it was still in vain. The one closest to her grabbed her arm, and she accidentally dropped her food. She tried to struggle away from him, but his grip was too tight.

“Let me go!” She yelled, tears pricking her eyes.

“You should be living with your own kind, girl!” the villager said, “You belong with humans!”

“OI.”

That was a new voice. Rin stopped pulling, and the villagers all turned their focus to the newcomer: it was a woman—human, as she appeared to be. Her black hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was dressed strangely; black garb, and skin-tight like a ninja’s. She had something that looked like a very short, strangely-patterned kimono tied around her waist. In her hand was a short katana, and she carried what Rin thought looked like one of those matchlock guns on her back.

A samurai? Rin guessed. If she was, she was dressed really strangely. No armor, either? Maybe she really was a ninja.

The woman’s hazel-brown eyes narrowed at the village men. “Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” She held her hand out, gesturing to Rin. “Let the girl go, or we’re gonna have issues.”

What an odd accent. Rin looked up at the man, hoping he’d listen and let her go. No such luck yet.

“This doesn’t concern you, woman,” the man said. Rin could swear she saw a twinge of anger in the woman’s face when he called her that.

“This child was residing with demons!” One of the others joined in.

The woman arched an eyebrow. “So what? You her father?”

“No—”

“Uncle?”

“....no.”

“Caretaker?”

“No.”

“Then it ain’t much of your business either, now is it?” The woman crossed her arms, leveling a stare that could mow down a forest. In an instant, her expression changed as she shifted her eyes to Rin and gestured with her sword. “C’mere, honey.”

The man holding her wrist looked like he wanted to object, but Rin took the opportunity to rip her arm free and run away from him. She did not like humans, not in the very least. Humans were horrible, and these men were no different. But this woman—her eyes were soft, and she squatted down to Rin’s height when she stood next to her, her posture non-threatening.

“Did they hurt you?” She asked gently.

Rin stared at her a second, folded in on herself. “...No…”

“You know these guys? Are they from your village?”

Rin shook her head. “I don’t have a village…”

The woman nodded, processing that before asking: “You have someone taking care of you, sweetie?”

Cautious, Rin paused a second. It seemed this woman wanted to help her—but… she was still a human. Rin didn’t trust humans. There might’ve been something about her that was different. This close, Rin could see her eyes better: they weren’t just hazel brown, they just looked like that from far away. Most of the color was a cool brown, but right around her pupils, she had flecks of gold that took the shape of crescent moons.

Was she really a human with eyes like that? Lord Sesshomaru had golden eyes… and the crescent moon on his forehead! Perhaps she wasn’t a human after all—or she wasn’t a full human, at least. That settled it; she was definitely more trustworthy than most humans.

Rin smiled a little as she answered her: “Yes… I have Master Jaken and Lord Sesshomaru.”

Her savior nodded and smiled, then she stood to face the village men again, blocking them from Rin. “Alright, you all can head home. This girl is obviously spoken for.”

“By demons!”

“Are you mad?!” the one that grabbed her demanded. “She is in danger!”

“Probably,” the woman said. “But look at her. She’s unhurt, she’s obviously able to feed herself, and the only ones I see endangering her is you three. So scram.”

“How dare you talk back!”

Rin flinched as the leader reached out and smacked the woman across the face. She started shaking again, but this time it was from anger. “You can’t hit a girl like that!”

“Don’t worry, kiddo.” The woman’s voice was low. She cracked her neck, rolled her shoulders, and untied her odd kimono from around her waist. She turned around, set her weapons down, and held out the kimono. “Hold this for me?”

Confused, Rin nodded and took the garment, surprised at the soft, warm fabric. She watched as the woman turned back to the villagers once again.

“Alright, boys,” she said, cracking her knuckles as well. “Just remember… you hit first.”

The leader had no chance to figure out what she meant before she swung back and punched him square in the nose (Rin tried not to laugh). The other two shouted and lunged at her, but she kicked one in the side of his knee and smacked the other in the face with her elbow. When the first one went down, the second came back and tried to grab her, but she flipped him over her shoulder as easily as if she were lifting a sack of beans. The leader had fallen to his knees, cradling his bleeding nose. The woman stood before him, crossing her arms.

“Hope you’ve learned to leave young girls alone,” She said flatly, “If you haven’t, I’ll be back.” Without waiting for a response, she turned back to Rin, her face softening again. “Sorry you had to see that, honey.”

Rin shook her head, blinking wide eyes up at her as she held out the kimono. “...Are you a ninja?”

She laughed. “What? No, no, not a ninja. Just good at fighting. Thanks for holding my shirt for me.”

Shirt? Was that what that was called? This person was incredibly odd, but still; Rin was very grateful for her. She went to go gather her food up again, as the woman tied her “shirt” back around her waist and picked her weapons back up.

“Now,” she said, holding her hand out for Rin to take, “let’s get you back to your people.”

Rin happily took the outstretched hand. “Okay!”

“What’s your name, kiddo?”

“I’m Rin!”

“Nice to meet ya, Rin. My name’s Luna.”

~ ~ ~

“Rin! Where on earth have you been?!”

Well, that was the shrillest voice Luna had ever heard. And it came from—what the fuck was that?!

“Master Jaken!”

...well. Sure, when she’d heard this little kid was “residing among demons” from those limp-dick douchebags from the neighboring village, she didn’t expect to be returning her to someone who looked like your average human. But when Rin mentioned she recognized where they were, she definitely didn’t expect to be greeted with the sight of a little demon that looked like Kermit The Frog’s ugly step-cousin.

And yet, Rin spoke to him like he was an uncle. “Sorry, Master Jaken! I went to find something to eat, and I almost got taken by humans from that village!”

“WHAT?!” The little demon shrieked.

“No, it’s okay! Miss Luna helped me!” Rin turned back to look at her with a wide grin on her face, and Luna gave a little three-fingered wave.

“Yo.”

“I thought she was human at first,” Rin went on, “but now I think she might be a demon!”

Luna laughed at that. ���What?”

“You foolish girl!” “Master Jaken” chastised her, “That’s no demon!”

Rin looked confused. “Huh? But… she has gold in her eyes, just like Lord Sesshomaru!”

Gods above, this kid was adorable. Luna shook her head, smiling fondly. “I promise, I’m not a demon.” When Rin looked disappointed, she added: “But I promise, I’m not like those guys that tried to take you. I’m one of the good ones.”

She was snapped out of her good mood by a familiar feeling. A demonic aura, another strong one. With her focus on the adorable kid—and the little demon and the horse (dragon?)-looking demon so close—she hadn’t noticed it until she felt it directly behind her. Her grip on her sword tightened, and she hazarded a look over her shoulder. And who should be standing there, but the pompous asshole she’d run into earlier.

Startled, she practically launched herself into the air, shouting: “[JESUS FUCK!]” in English. She didn’t dare draw either of her weapons, just stood out of the way so she wouldn’t be killed.

“Lord Sesshomaru!” Rin greeted him happily.

What the fuck. “[Y… you’re—]” she stopped herself, trying to get her brain to go back to the right language. “[God damnit], you’re her Lord Sesshomaru?!”

“Lord Sesshomaru”, of course, didn’t answer. He just glared at her, likely planning how he was going to murder her. “Rin. Who is this woman.” It wasn’t a question, and those disdainful golden eyes never left Luna.

“This is Miss Luna!” Rin answered. “I was just telling Master Jaken: she saved me from these terrible villagers that were trying to take me away!”

Luna held up her hands defensively, never breaking eye contact with the demon. “Didn’t know she was with you. I just wanted to help her.”

Sesshomaru was silent for a moment, but his glare disappeared and his expression returned to indifference. Luna gave him a nod, a silent (yet contemptfully begrudging) sign of submission. Without another word on the subject, the demon passed her by.

“We’re leaving.” He said to the other two.

Luna made a face at him behind his back, then shook her head. Fuck, this guy pissed her off to no end, and she’d only known him for a little over an hour. The little girl, however, caused her to smile again, and Luna waved goodbye as she turned to leave.

“[What an asshole.]” She muttered, once again in English.

~ ~ ~

Luna had to admit, watching Inuyasha choke on his instant noodles was pretty hilarious. “You did WHAT?!”

“Yeah, this demon lord guy,” Luna said, waving her chopsticks around as she spoke. “Colossal dickhead. I had no idea that this little girl was his—well, not his, but— [dammit, what’s the word for it again…?]”

Kagome pressed her hands together, looking like she was about to burst a blood vessel. “Luna. Do you remember when I told you about Inuyasha’s older brother?”

“Kinda?” Luna said, slurping up more noodles. “Somethin’ about the swords, right? Inuyasha sliced off his arm?”

“Yes. You remember what his name was?”

“Uh…” Luna trailed off.

“Sesshomaru.” Kagome deadpanned.

“What’s this got to do with that assh—” It clicked, and Luna swore her eyes nearly came popping out of her head. “Wait— THAT was the older brother?!”

“Yes! I told you about him, Luna!”

“[Son of a BITCH, Kags!]” Dammit, she had to get better about that. “You know I’m shit with names!”

There was also, of course, the fact Kagome hadn't mentioned that he was fucking gorgeous, but there was no way in hell Luna was gonna say that out loud now.

Sango looked a little worried. “It doesn’t bode well that you just ran into him randomly.”

“Well, it’s not entirely impossible,” Miroku said, “he is searching for Naraku, just like we are. Unfortunately, that means our paths are likely to cross at some point.”

“What’s amazing is that you came out of it alive!” Shippo said to Luna. “He’s crazy powerful, and none too friendly at that.”

“I refuse to believe you just dodged his poison whip like that,” Inuyasha snorted. “He’s way too fast. You woulda been dead meat right then and there.”

“Maybe I’m just faster than you~” Luna teased him.

“You are not, ya damned liar!”

“Or maybe it’s cos I’m stronger—I am taller than you.”

“COME AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE!”

“Guys, not over the food!”

[rwbyvein]

Firen Lhain: Chapter 207: Varmint

JNPR walked with Red along the road.

"Soooo?.." Nora asked, "You don't always get into shootouts with bandits?"

"Nope." Red said, and spat on the ground.

"But, like..." Nora asked, "Bandits exist, right?"

"You know it." Red added.

"They're not a problem?" Pyrrha asked.

"Bandits are only a problem when they are. They come out of nowhere, grab what they want, and leave. Most people don't know what's happening until their loved ones are dead."

"They like... kill everyone?" Nora asked.

"Truth be told, they don't care if you live or die..." Red stated. "They just want your things; but for them, it's often easier if you're dead."

"Are all bandits so professional?" Ren queried.

"There's two kinds of bandits," Red replied, "the good... and the dead... The bad ones don't last very long."

"Okay... but?..." Nora asked, "you can still do tricks with your gun, right?"

Red quickly drew his revolver, pulled the hammer, and shot an apple off a tree, all in a split second. "Of course I can." Red replied, before quickly reholstering his pistol. "The thing about being a sheriff is that you don't know someone's going to try and kill you before they draw their weapon. Grimm are a bit more forward in that regard." The five walked up to a farmhouse. "This here is the house of the Marigold family. Somethin' happened last night, you're job is to figure out what. I'll be here to help you if you have any questions."

Red then walked up to the door and knocked. The door opened and an older women looked out at them. She then quickly opened the door. "Are these the children from Beacon?" she excitedly asked.

"Yep." Red replied.

"Well, hello dearies. I'm Gwen Marigold." she said, and tried her best to curtsey. She then stepped aside. "Come in! Come in!" JNPR walked inside, Jaune last, ducking under the entryway. Gwen gestured for Red to move in, and he did, pulling off his hat. "Can I get you dearies anything?" she asked, and NPR looked at Jaune.

"I don't see why not?" Jaune asked, and Gwen excitedly clapped her hands and rushed into the kitchen.

"That there was the wrong answer." Red stated and then sighed. "We're going to be here a while."

"Surely we can..." Ren tried ot say, but Red just slowly shook his head.

"And just which of you fancy huntsmen are going to hurt her feelin's?" JNPR looked between each other. "Now your job is even harder; you got to ask her questions while she's trying to shove you full of her delicious cuisine."

"Anything I need worry about?" Gwen asked as she walked out with a tray.

"Just telling them how delicious your cookin' is." Red replied.

* * *

JNPR walked into the back yard, slamming the door behind him. The four of them hunched over. Nora let out an incredible belch, followed by a trio of less impressive ones. "She is a good cook." Nora stated.

"I do not believe anyone is disputing that." Ren stated, and Red walked around the side of the house.

"And just what do you think yer doing? You locked me inside with her?! Now, let's hope you're not too well fed to do some investigatin'." He gestured to the far fence, and JNPR... waddled... towards it... In the base of the fence they saw a hole. "Alright, pop quiz, how big is the smallest known Grimm?"

"At the shoulders?," Pyrrha asked, "about a metre. Height, about half."

"So?," Red asked, "if the Grimm squatted down, could he get trhough here?"

"Indeed." Ren stated.

"Now, the big question: Did he?"

JNPR all looked between each other, NPR's eyes all eventually fixing on Jaune. Jaune accepted their choice, and looked at the fence, and then the ground. The fence was broken. By the fresh damage, it seemed recently. There were scratches on the ground with fresh soil Something definitely clawed it ways in, here, something at least as big as a wolf. Jaune looked at Pyrrha. "The smallest Grimm?" he asked.

"Locks." Pyrrha stated, "Like large coyotes."

Jaune then looked to Red, "Did anyone hear anything?"

Red lightly shook his head side-to-side, "A bit of scratching. Not much else. Most folk around here know well enough to not go lookin' for trouble."

"What damage was done?" Jaune asked.

"Killed the hound." Red stated.

Jaune looked at him as he thought it over, before looking around the yard. He focused on a chicken coop. Red's eyes grew wide and developed a wicked smile. "Was the dog eaten?" Jaune asked. Red gestured off to the side, and the four quickly walked over, spreading around the bloodied dog. Jaune grabbed a nearby stick and flipped the carcass over. There were obvious bite and claw marks, but not much flesh missing. The wounds were mostly defensive. The creature came here to kill the dog, and that seemed to be it. He looked back towards the breach, and there was no signs of dripping blood... or any other physical remnant of the creature.

"Why would the Grimm kill the dog... and leave?.." Ren asked.

"To make you angry." Red stated, "Most Grimm might not have much of a head on their shoulders, but anger... anger they understand. Anger makes you stupid, makes you easy prey. Lucky for us, folks around here know well enough to not give into it. Ever year we get a team to come visit our small li'l town."

"Quite a wise relationship." Ren stated.

"Sooooo?.." Nora asked, "are we going to... I don't know... hunt... the Grimm?.."

"Did you learn enough to think you can?" Red asked.

Once again JNPR looked between each other. Once again NPR ended up looking at Jaune. He breathed in deep. "I guess now's a good time to see how we are at tracking Grimm."

"I'm sorry." Pyrrha said, as she lifted up her hand.

"Pyrrha?" Jaune asked.

"You could throw me into the air..." Pyrrha voiced.

Nora lifted up her hand and eagerly started shouting for attention. Jaune rolled his eyes, and drew his sword. He grabbed his scabbard and expanded it into a shield. He crouched and lifted it above his head. Pyrrha stepped onto the shield. Jaune used all of his strength and aura to launch Pyrrha into the air. He looked over to see Nora nearly crying.

"Leader?" she whined.

"If you go up, you won't come back down." Jaune stated. Pyrrha spiraled up before balancing herself as she looked around. "I want us all to know where we are going before you take off."

"He does have a point." Ren stated. "You do have a tendency to depart expediently."

Jaune held his shield above his head and lowered it as soon as Pyrrha's feet touched down, craddling the impact. Once she had been dampened enough she stepped down. "So?" Jaune asked.

"I do believe he is watching us." Pyrrha stated. Pyrrha then subtly turned her head to the side, Nora and Ren's heads following her gaze.

"Distance?" Jaune asked.

"About 250 metres," Pyrrha stated, "though I did not get a good sighting picture."

Jaune then held his shield up and looked at Nora. A ridiculously large grin appeared on her face. Jaune crouched down, holding the shield above his head. Nora stepped onboard and Jaune launched her as he had Pyrrha. Just after the peek, Nora opened her wings on the way down, letting the wind build up before gliding off into the distance. Jaune looked to Pyrrha and then over to a relief that had a view over the fence. Pyrrha stepped over, drawing Miló. As it moved into her hand it turned into a rifle, and she looked through the optical sight. Jaune looked between Pyrrha and where Nora was headed. He saw Pyrrha react, and looked to Ren. Ren ran towards Jaune. Jaune once again crouched down, shield above him, and once again launched a teammate into the air, this time on an arc towards where Nora was headed. He looked at Pyrrha who noticed this and looked back. She turned Miló into a short spear and ran off, circling around Jaune until she was aimed at the target, at which point she ran straight at him, being launched into the air once again. Jaune collapsed his shield, sheathed his sword, and ran to the fence, leaping over it, running off to where his team mates had gone. The obvious sound of Dust fire beckoning him. Soon after their was a large pink explosion.

Jaune thought to his earlier leap. About how he had used his aura to enhance his legs, along with something else he was uncertain about. He used this to enchance his strides to the point he was moving several yards with a single step. He quickly caught up to the group. The Locks had apparently lead them to a group of Beowulves. Certainly not what he was expecting. But that was the point of this, wasn't it?, to challenge their expectations? "Nora." Jaune said. She looked at him, and saw him once again crouching down with his shield over his head. She smilled brilliantly and ran towards him, once again being launched into the air. She rose above the canopy of trees. She used her wings to control her spin as she looked around, not seeing any more Grimm. She glided down, landing with tremendous force. She just shrugged at her leader. JNPR looked around at the dissolving bodies.

* * *

JNPR walked back, finding Red sitting on top of the fence. "So, y'all had a bit of fun."

"That's not why we're huntsmen." Jaune stated.

Red jumped down from the fence and stepped up to them. "So, now what?"

"Now what, what?" Nora asked.

"You killed the Grimm." Red stated, "You could claim your reward."

"Implying there is another course of action?" Ren asked.

Jaune stared at Red, and his team turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry." Pyrrha said, and everyone looked at her. "We could look around to see if we see any more signs?.."

"Hm." Ren affirmed, and Jaune nodded.

"Ask me a question," Red asked, "that I can answer."

"Have you seen any more?.." Jaune asked.

"Yes." Red said with glee as he cut him off. "Let's head on over."

[bakugouscentedcaramel]

Ah yes, the time has come.

It's time to get your pen and paper because class is in session!

There's plenty of things I could talk about and I pretty much covered the basics down below, but I'm more than willing to help y'all out with anything specific!

I have to preface that I'm not an English major by any means nor do I have any experience writing professionally, the things listed below are purely based on my opinions and submissions I have received.

Writing is forever a learning process, there really isn't a right way of writing but there are definitely some things that will hinder your readers. Here is a list that I compiled both with my own experiences as well as some user submitted issues when it comes to reading works:

•Big blocks of text

° Typos/wrong word usage

•Using the same words

°Too spaced out/not indented where needed

• Dialogue runs into normal sentences

° Speakers/POVs change without notice

• Inconsistencies, either in general or story inconsistencies

°Lack of description/Too much description

• Bland/Artificial actions/dialogue

° Misuse of punctuation/lack thereof

• Capitalization errors

° Long winded sentences

• Using italics for actions

° Confusing formating

• Changing in Tenses

° Using wrong tags/falsely advertising (ex. Reader x Blank should have Y/N, not an OC/Authors name)

• Author notes/comics/pictures in middle of fic

° "~This is a transition~"

• Forcing a character to be OOC for sake of story

° Filler characters

• Not sticking to a specific genre/jumpy moods

Now don't be intimidated by this list! Some of these are pretty self explanatory so I won't go into a few of them. There are plenty of ways to avoid these and in some cases it is perfectly fine to use any of the above. 

Let's start off with the basics!

Sentence structure is the backbone of writing, but it's a very flexible rule. Obviously you have your subject, verb, object and whatnot, but the true art lies in word choice and length.

When it comes to sentences, size does matter. If your sentences are too short they will seem choppy and unfinished, whereas if they are long they will seem winded and unnatural. The biggest tool you can use to find out if a sentence is too short/long is by reading it aloud! If you run out of breath it's too long but if you finish abruptly it's too short.

Word choice is my favorite weapon to work with, I could describe a blue jay as a normal bird or as a mythical animal just by picking the right words!

"The blue jay flew across the field while it sang it's melody."

Or

"A creature with wings made of clouds swooped across the field whilst roaring out a devilish tune."

Word choice can easily convey tone/feeling so it's definitely an important element to writing! If you ever have trouble finding that perfect word try googling for synonyms! Also this website might help you find that one word that you just can't think of!

Grammar is also a very important part of writing. Using the right words and punctuation can be difficult sometimes but there are some easy fixes!

Spelling is an easy fix, if you forgot/don't know how to spell a word consulting a dictionary or Google is a surefire way of solving your problem. You can even find synonyms if you feel like you've used a word too much. 

Punctuation on the other can be a big more difficult, however. 

Here's a couple of sentences that helped me learn basic punctuation:

A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink then leaves. Commas are a means of sewing two sentences together to form a compound sentence. These are mainly used to list out things and to add fluidity to your works so they don't sound as choppy.

A question mark walks into a bar? Question marks are pretty self explanatory. They either raise a question or form uncertainty.

Two quotation marks "walk" into a bar. Quotations are used for both dialogue and metaphors. I personally love using them for sarcasm!

A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to drink. This one is a tougher one that I personally never learned from any of my classes. A gerund is basically a word that can act as a verb or a noun which would be "drinking". An infinitive is the base of a verb, in this case it's "drink".

The bar was walked into by a passive voice. A passive voice is when you emphasize the action and object of a sentence rather than the subject. You can find that a passive voice tends to use past tense where as an active voice uses present/future tense.

Three intransitives walk into a bar. They sit. They drink. They leave. An intransitive verb is an action verb, expressing a doable activity like arrive, go, lie, sneeze, sit, die, etc.

Some other things that I commonly see are the wrong usages of words. For example:

They: a group of individuals/pronoun "Yeah, they said he'd be here thirty minutes ago."

Their: a possessive pronoun "Leave their stuff alone!'

There: location "What's that over there?"

Then: event/action "Val went to the mall then skittered to the park."

Your: possessive "Your self esteem is lower than the Mariana's Trench!"

You're: a conjunctive "you are"

Affect: caused by actions "The fallen french fry really affected Val's mood."

Effect: caused by events "Climate change has a negative effect on my Cheerios."

Peaked: a summit "Val has peaked at 10:19pm"

Piqued: stimulate interest/curiosity "You have piqued Val's interest by mentioning food."

Do time: "Val is fixin' to do time if she keeps slacking."

Due time: "Val will come with hydration in due time."

Per say: not a thing

Per se: by/in itself "She didn't write this late at night, per se…"

There are different tools you can use to spice up your writings, from metaphors to innuendos, all the way to zeugmas! Let's go over the basic definitions of these bad boys.

Metaphor: a figure of speech that is not literally applicable. "The darkness surrounded us like a shroud." Obviously the darkness can't physically shroud anyone.

Innuendo: a sentence with a hidden meaning "Is that a gator in your pants or are you just happy to see me~" 

Zeugma: a sentence containing words that can be used literally and figuratively, like a love child of the two above. "Val and her coupon expired last week." This implies that not only did my Colgate coupon expire, but I died as well.

Paragraphs are a necessity when it comes to writing. Big blocks of text are an eyestrain to readers and it's easy to lose your place, even if it's only 150 words. It's always best to use Tab or at least 5 spaces when indenting. A paragraph should only be 5-7 sentences long, this is so it's not just multiple blocks of text

When to add a new paragraph:

° A new person comes in

• New idea/context

° Setting changes

• New person is speaking

° Time changes

• The "camera" moves

° Tone shifts

• 5-7 sentences has been reached

Paragraphs help you organize your work in a way and they make it easier for your readers' eyes!

POVs are also very important. First person and third person are by far the most common ones so I'll only touch on these two. It's very important to write a story in one strict POV as to not confuse the readers. You can however jump perspectives like Heroes of Olmpyus by Rick Rodian, as long as the ready can easily tell who is telling the story.

First person is a story that is told from first-hand experience. It's the same as if I told y'all the story on how I almost chopped off my thumb in woodshop class back in middle school. First person tends to use a lot of I's and my's

Third person is a story that is told from a narrators' point of view. Such as "Once upon a time" type of stories. I's and my's should only be used in dialogue

Dialogue is probably one of the most important features of any fic/story. Dialogue can push plots forward as well as add life to a character. Here's a simple exchanged:

"Hiya 'Splodey," Val chirped.

Katuski smirked, "M'dumbass."

Dialogue should always come with a pair of quotation marks. Commas and periods generally go inside the quotation marks whereas dashes, colons, and semicolons almost always go outside the quotation marks. Question marks and exclamation marks however can go either inside or outside, it goes by a case by case basis. Always indent whenever a different speaker is talking, running quotes into each other is a no-go because it causes confusion and eyestrain.

You have to be wary of using simple dialogue exchanges though, if they seem off try saying them out loud! Dialogue is one of my favorite things to write because you can weave personality into them, not to mention you can always hear people talking to get a better idea on how to write dialogue.

For example, I have a southern dialect, meaning I sound different than someone from the north! I use words like "y'all", "fixin'", "finna", "ain't" and have a different vocabulary than that of my northern friends. This means that the characters you're portraying should have their own way of speaking! This will not only add flavor to your dialogue but it also adds to their personalities/backgrounds.

Describing things can be just as valuable as dialogue, but it is a bit more complex. Sure we've all heard of the "show, don't tell" rule. Which is a good rule to follow, however too much showing is just as bad as telling. Again, reading out your work is a great way to tell if you're focusing too much on one thing. Another thing to keep in mind is importance, such as do we really need to know that the grass outside was bluegrass? Which in certain situations it would be! For example:

The grass around the disheveled house was brown and straw-like, with the exception of a ring of grass. Bluegrass. Which wasn't even native to this location.

This paints a pretty good spooky picture in the readers' mind and even adds the element suspense by the implied uncertainty.

I've only covered a small portion of writing so if y'all have any questions or need any help feel free to slide into my DMs or send in an ask! I love getting questions about writing and I'm always willing to help a fellow writer!

[tsipasce]

Same Difference, Ch.09

A/N: FYI, this part gets a bit violent. No domestic abuse or anything like that, just a good ol’ fashioned fight scene. Anybutts, hope y'all enjoy~

Chapters: 01  |  02 |  03 |  04 | 05  | 06 | 07 | 08

AO3 | Fanfic

Nanami began walking down the now-familiar, winding hallways from her tea break to return to the lab. She wasn’t ready to examine the feelings she’d had after her spat with Overhaul, especially the ones that caused her such sadness at the thought of not seeing him again. In the back of her mind, she knew whatever she was feeling could simply be the result of successful manipulation on his part, but it didn’t change the relief she felt knowing they’d continue working together. Hoping to push away the thoughts before facing him again, she decided to focus on her efforts to find a suitable class for self-defense. Sure, Hitomi had a point in that it would at the very least be a confidence booster, but Nanami felt like she needed more.

I know Kurono said it was a cheap shot in a 1 vs. 30 battle royale, but still. * BANG* If Overhaul, ~*killer extraordinaire*~ can get injured like that, * BANG* I might as well be a sitting duck. Nanami concluded, remembering that she had involved herself in a world much more dangerous than she wanted to acknowledge. But where in the world am I gonna find * BANG* a class that’ll * BANG, BANG* teach me how to survive a fight to * BANG* the * BANG, BANG* death? * BANG, BANG, BANG* Ok, what the hell is making all that noise? Nanami thought now annoyed at whatever had been interrupting her train of thought.

Following the sound, she found the source of the noise: a very large man beating a block of concrete in the training room as though his life depended on it. She watched for a moment in amazement as his fists covered in heavy, metal gauntlets wore down one block of concrete after the next, ignoring the traditional workout equipment. He stopped for a beat, sensing her watching him from the doorway.

“Hey, doc. What brings you here?”

“Hi Rappa, it’s nothing, just heard a lot of commotion and wanted to make sure everything was alright. Don’t mind me!”

Shrugging, he continued training, now moving to weightlifting. Man, this is nothing like the classes I sat in on. I wonder what kind of training you’d have to get to be this proficient… I wish I could… Oh, duh. Nanami thought at the epiphany.

“Hey, Rappa, can I ask you a question?” Nanami asked, with a plan already in mind.

“Who’s gonna stop you?”

“True. Have you ever tried teaching anyone?”

“A couple times, but most don’t last too long. They lack the warrior spirit.”

“So… if someone did have this ‘warrior spirit’, you’d consider taking them on, right?”

“It would be a dream come true, to trade blows with another man, hellbent on victory! They’d have to prove their mettle, but nothing would bring me more joy!” He exclaimed and she could tell he was already daydreaming about the next fight.

“Well, what if there was a person that was hellbent on victory and had a true warrior spirit... but they were a woman. Would you train them?”

“Impossible.” He responded immediately.

“What makes you say that?” Nanami queried, a bit miffed at how sure of his answer he was.

“They don’t have it in their nature. Besides, we yakuza have a code of chivalry. I could never fight a broad.”

“Even if said broad could kick your ass?” Now she was pissed.

He laughed heartily, “The day I meet a woman like that, will be the same day Mimic can keep his mouth shut for more than 5 seconds. Or when hell freezes over, whichever comes first.”

“Well get ready for 5 seconds of bliss and Satan in some long johns because that woman is here.” Nanami said with a renewed sense of resolve.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’ll talk to you later, Rappa.”

“Uh… Ok, see ya later, doc.”

On the remainder of the walk back, Nanami practiced her proposal in her head. She knew it might be a hard sell, but she was determined. Bursting through the door, she saw Overhaul focused on his laptop, going through some data sheets. Aw, he looks so peaceful—no, snap out of it. Back on task. Nanami chastised herself, though she was happy knowing she’d be able to see him like this regularly since they’d done their version of making up earlier. Focusing on the task at hand, she spoke confidently,” Overhaul, I need to borrow one of your bullets.”

“Who do you need taken care of?” he turned to her, a serious look in his eyes.

“Wait what?”

“What?”

They exchanged looks of equal confusion, before realizing what the other meant. “Oh no, no, no—I don’t need anyone ‘taken care of’, I want to take care of them myself—but not like that…”

“It would be clearer if you referred to them as the Eight Bullets or Eight Precepts of Death in the future.”

“Oh, yeah that sounds way cooler.” She stated matter-of-factly.

“Tch. Of course, it does.”  He said turning and she could tell he was grateful in his own way of the compliment. “What do you need them for?”

“I don’t need all of them, just Rappa. And I want... no, I need him to train me.”

“Why do you need him to train you? It’s you and I who share the same quirk…” He trailed off at the last part.

“Oh, don’t be jealous, it’s just that I... I want to learn hand-to hand combat. I want to protect myself. I need to. You were right earlier when you said I’ve entered a world that prioritizes violence. It’s not that I want to prioritize it myself, but I know it would be naïve of me to be unprepared.” She replied resolutely.

“Of course, I was right.”

“That’s what you got from that?”

“However, I fail to see how this benefits me. Technically speaking, you have yet to rectify the power imbalance between us; you being able to completely negate my attacks is… problematic. Making you stronger would border on foolishness on my part.”

“So, you plan on attacking me in the future?”

“No, but the point still stands and the question remains: what do I have to gain from this?”

Nanami’s resolve did not waiver. She had the answer to this one, “An ally.”

His eyes narrowed at her, almost cautioning her to use her words wisely, but he continued to listen, pushing his laptop to the side. “Go on.”

“I wouldn’t serve you or be an accomplice, nor conspirator to any crimes. However, I will not plot against you, attack you without proper provocation, and if you’re in a bind like tonight, I will be there. In addition to this… I’ll tell you how I was able to negate your attack. It’s still a working theory, but I’d be willing to share and practice it with you until it’s fully proven. I can teach you, but only after Rappa has trained me and you teach me a defensive move using Overhaul. This way, we will be equal, for the most part.”

He stared at her searchingly, considering her proposal. After letting her squirm for a bit in suspense, he responded,” It cannot interfere with our organization’s daily dealings or our work in the lab.”

“Of course.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

“Also, could you talk to Rappa for me? You know the whole chivalry thing…” She trailed off hoping he would catch her drift.

“You’re just full of requests today.” He said, slightly annoyed as she raised her brows waiting for an answer, “He will comply. You may have to prove yourself, but he will comply.”

 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was decided that Nanami would be tested by Rappa a week from the day. If she wasn’t sure about the nature of the test, it was certainly made clear when Rappa explained in a way only he could:

“I’ll take it easy since you’re a woman. If you can make me surrender, I’ll teach you.”

Such a generous soul~ Nanami mused to herself after pushing through the fourth lap. She didn’t expect to become a prize fighter in a week, but not getting winded just by going up the stairs at work was a good start. She’d kept somewhat in shape and had grown up doing club sports in school, but nothing she could think of that would constitute a “warrior spirit”. Looks like we’re gonna have to get creative with this…

Checking her watch, she realized she had just enough time to make an important call before her next appointment. “Hey Miki, how’ve you been?... That’s awesome, I’m doing alright myself… Hm? No, no we’re still on for dinner Thursday, I just had a favor to ask… Could I join you for some freerunning this week?... Nevermind why I’m breathing so heavy! Can I come? ...Thank you, Thank you, Thank you—I’ll see you at the station by your place. Bye!” The phone clicked.

She wouldn’t become a master in a week—maybe not even an intermediate level fighter—but at least she could have a sliver of a chance at winning Rappa over. With her plan coming together, she pushed for another lap, a little more confidence in her step than before.

 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A week came and went, now Nanami stood in front of her closet, unsure of what to wear.

“What do you usually wear to a fight anyway…” She pondered, remembering what every fighting person she knew wore on a regular basis. Rappa wore jeans and a t-shirt, “If I can’t sleep in jeans, how the hell am I supposed to fight in them? Next.” Overhaul wore business attire, “The man’s an enigma, not even realistic to compare wardrobe choices there…Wait.” Nanami had an epiphany. Her fighting style, if she could call it that yet, wasn’t much like either of theirs from what she knew. Deciding it would be smartest to wear what she’d been training in that week of preparation, she got changed and hurried over.

Rushing her park job, she sat in her car for a beat, trying to catch her breath. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been a nervous wreck anticipating her “trial by fire” today. Even with a plan, it would be hard to predict how she’d react in the moment when her safety was on the line. After rejecting her quirk and consequently, her body, for such a long time, it seemed like an impossible task to lean on it completely, to trust it, but what choice do I have? Nanami asked herself with equal measures of resignation and resolve. Deciding it was do or di—nope, gotta use a better phrase. We are not speaking the possibility of death into existence. Not today. Deciding it was now or never, Nanami took a deep breath, centering herself as she worked up the nerve to exit her car and march to the base and down to the training room.

Stopping in front of the entrance, she exhaled deeply once again, pushing the large door open. Upon opening it, she saw Rappa rotating his shoulders and stretching his arms. She gulped heavily, remembering his quirk, Strongarm, would soon be used on her. Focusing on her opponent, she hadn’t noticed someone else standing in the corner by the door.

“If you focus any harder, you’ll pop a blood vessel.” Said a familiar voice, startling her from her thoughts.

She put a hand to her chest, trying to calm down, “Oh my gosh you scared the shit out of me… and leave me alone. Everyone has their own way of preparing, I’m just… figuring mine out.”

“That and your sparring attire.” Overhaul responded too quickly for her liking, giving her a once over.

Defensively pulling her tracksuit closed, she gave him a look,” Did you come to roast me or root for me?”

“Neither. I am merely here to supervise. Whether you win or not is none of my concern.”

“Aaaand this is why I didn’t ask you to train me. If you need me, I’ll be stretching over there, ref.”

Nanami rolled her eyes, making her way to what she figured would be her side of the arena. The training room was large with two sections; one part took up a third of the room, hosting a myriad of traditional gym equipment and weights. The other part which was the arena, took up the remaining two thirds and was outlined on the floor in white with room on the sidelines for observers …and sassy referees. Nanami thought, remembering his dig from earlier.

Removing her tracksuit, she donned black leggings and a matching, sleeveless workout top. It was sleek and formfitting, maximizing her range of mobility. After she completed a couple toe touches, lunges and back stretches, Rappa took a step forward into the ring, “Alright, you know the rules! I’m making it easy on you by only asking for a surrender, but I won’t hold back.”

“I wouldn’t want you too. Let’s do this.” Nanami said, her game face on and her voice confident in an effort to override the doubts she had in her head.

“Now that’s the spirit! Come at me, doc!”

Getting into a stance, Nanami made a B-line towards Rappa, sprinting at full speed. He braced himself in a defensive stance, ready to attack when she came within striking distance. He was wearing his mask, but she could feel how serious the mood of the room had gotten. Just stick to the plan, it’ll all be ok, she said, steeling herself from further doubt. Focusing, she saw the second he was readying himself to take his first swing. Just then, she slid and dodged, slapping her hand firmly on the ground as she slid, sending a ripple in the direction she was headed, a pillar forming. She then slid past the new structure, extended her arms, and grabbed onto the pillar to swing herself back in his direction at full force. Keeping both her feet together she surprised him, landing a solid kick to the face. She followed through as he staggered, and she landed, rolling to minimize the impact. Before she could appreciate the look of surprise on Overhaul’s face, Rappa had recovered. Her refresher course on parkour with Miki had paid off and she had a few tricks up her sleeve.

“Now that was good. Give me more!” He exclaimed, punching the ground, barely missing her head as she dodged. Nanami had been fast, but Rappa was much more agile than he looked. She’d done some research on his quirk, but no amount of reading could have prepared her for the reality of it. Though it probably wouldn’t have seemed threatening if it had belonged to someone else, it suited him perfectly. He didn’t just have a quirk, he had a set of skills and used it to amplify them. Even without the added power, he was a force to be reckoned with.

Before she had the chance to think too much, he struck again and again, dodging becoming more difficult with each blow. Deciding to act, she erected more pillars.

“Putting up a wall for protection won’t gain you a surrender—come and fight me!” He warned, charging towards her.

“Who said these were for my protection?”  Nanami responded as she ran. She launched herself to gain enough momentum, bouncing between the pillars, she managed to land a punch to his side, just beneath his ribs, earning her a grunt. Now more confident, she went in for a second attack, this time she was going to aim for his chin, hoping to knock him out. In this movement, her lack of combat training caused her to make a grave error: she was wide open. By the time she saw Rappa winding up for an uppercut, it was too late to react. He landed a solid blow to her abdomen before grabbing her like a ragdoll, tossing her clear across the room and into the wall on the opposite side of the arena. Her back hit the wall with a thud, and she gasped for air as the wind was knocked out of her. She was certain she’d broken a rib or two. She fell on all fours, heaving as she grasped at the broken parts of her rib cage. She coughed up blood, accepting the consequences of being hit in real combat. When she expelled more of the red liquid from her mouth, she could’ve sworn she saw Overhaul reflexively lunge towards her. Without thinking she raised a hand motioning him to stop whatever he planned on doing, the other still clutching her side. Looking over to him, her expression must have relayed her determination. He took a step back, his face expressionless once again.

Reaching under her shirt to the affected area, she felt for a moment and healed herself, the sound of bones cracking back into place echoing throughout the room. She rose again, steadying herself as she took up her stance once again, “I’m not done yet.” Nanami gritted.

His mask was now ripped from her previous blows she could see a large smile forming. “Now that’s the look I want to see. IF YOU WANT VICTORY, COME AND TAKE IT WITH YOUR FISTS!”

Nanami charged forward, landing some solid blows as using her ability to manipulate the arena to her advantage. Though she’d used her quirk on their surroundings, she’d yet to use it on her opponent directly. Deep down, she was still too afraid to use it in that way. The only “fight” she’d ever used it against someone was when Overhaul and her first met, but really it was just a means to escape. Even in the face of danger, she found herself more afraid of losing control like she had all those years ago. As she hesitated, Rappa landed another solid blow, this time to her shoulder, dislocating it. She managed to stifle a scream of pain, but she knew this was bad. Before she had time to heal, he was charging towards her once again. She had enough mobility to dodge some of his blows, but not all of them. She couldn’t heal herself quickly enough to keep up with his attacks. He landed another to her ribs, a fist to her back and a knee to her abdomen. Rappa was enjoying himself and she was becoming less and less sure that he remembered this was a duel to a surrender and not to the death.

Completely forgetting where she was in her panic, an immense sense of danger crashed over her, the adrenaline taking over giving her tunnel vision. Judging by how he wound up, the next blow could have certainly killed her. She braced for impact, no longer thinking strategy and then… nothing. All she felt was the gust of wind that came from his fist stopping near her face and his breath on the back of her hand. Focusing her vision, she realized she had her finger pointed, mere inches from his neck and Rappa was frozen in his place, careful not to even clear his throat. Nanami hadn’t realized it, but her eyes were almost black and her face that of a cornered animal. She would have obliterated him had he not stopped short, an experience he wasn’t quick to relive a sixth time.

A smile slowly crept back across his face and Nanami was snapped out of her trance by the sound of jovial laughter. “I surrender, doc. THAT WAS GREAT! The look on your face right now, it’s perfect! I’ll see ya Thursday for training.” He boomed before shaking her hand that was aimed to kill him mere seconds ago. “I gotta make my rounds, but I’m looking forward to working with ya, doc. You’re one tough broad!” He said as he continued laughing to himself, exiting the room.

This whole place is just a dozen different flavors of crazy… I almost killed him, Nanami thought to herself, happy to have passed his trial, but terrified at the possibility of repeating “the incident”. Losing control scared her more than anything, but deep down she knew in order to master her quirk, she would have to take the risk and use it first. One step at a time, Nanami reassured herself, quelling the effects of the traumatic memories.  In reality, she knew whatever training he could give her would far surpass any of the self-defense classes she was going to settle for before. She wasn’t just going to be confident; she was going to be prepared. Just as she was riding the waves of her victory, the adrenaline began to wear off and the pain came washed over her like a tsunami. It left her breathless for a moment and all she wanted was to cry out but couldn’t as she felt one of her ribs pushing into her lung. Now laying on her back, she focused on moving the arm that wasn’t dislocated to her side, repairing her ribs and internal organs.

As she sat up to kneel on the floor and heal her shoulder, she heard footsteps coming towards her. “You’re going to have to get quicker at recovering if you plan on standing a chance the next time.” He said, looking down at her exhausted form still seated on the floor.

“I know.” Nanami sighed, reflecting on her sluggish reflexes with a bit of disappointment.

He stood in place, examining her for a beat. Suddenly something white entered her line of sight. Lifting her gaze, she saw his gloved hand extended to help her up, though his face was turned away. Quickly brushing off her surprise at his gesture, she patted her palms on her sides, before clasping his hand. He lifted her up with ease, and had she not already tempted death once today, she would have jokingly asked for a piggyback ride. Now standing close, their hands remained clasped between them longer than she expected. Craning her neck to make eye contact, she could tell he was thinking, his gaze unwavering with an emotion she couldn’t name. Just as she was about to get lost in those golden eyes, he spoke “You smell terrible.”

Ah. The ~emotion~ was in fact just stank face. Should’ve known he’d say something like that... She thought as her face dropped into one of exasperation.

“That, my very rude friend, is the smell of victory, so take a big whiff.” She retorted, moving past him, flipping her hair as she sashayed over to her bag to collect her things.

“Still wreaks… however, your performance was impressive, for an amateur.” The last part added as though it would break the very laws of nature itself to award a compliment without a catch. “See you tomorrow.” He remarked, leaving the room.

Her back was still turned as she zipped her bag, trying her best to hide the small smile that rested on her now proud face. “See you tomorrow.”

[moody-cowdaddy]

Friends in Low Places [Part 1]

Arthur Morgan x Reader | Imagine #1

Summary: You bite off more than you can chew when you wind up in the muddy little town known as Valentine for the night.

Category: Action, Drama, Fluff, First meeting.

××××

"Full house, fellas!" You exclaimed, slamming down a fist full of worn poker cards on the saloon table.

You had landed yourself in the small town of Valentine in New Hanover a month ago. You didn't tend to hang around one spot too long, you always found trouble, or at least, trouble found you.

You had been on your own for the majority of your life. You had to grow up fast. Both parents had died when you were very young, so you spent most of your life in an orphanage. But, being the troublemaker that you were, you were always getting into mischief whether it was fighting, or running off. After more than a few squabbles, the headmasters at the orphanage couldn't take much more, and you were sent off to a strict refinement school.

While you learned to be a little more lady-like, the rebellious streak in you stayed put. Once you were old enough, you headed out on your own. You had seen a lot of the world already at such a young age, and you were planning on seeing more of it. You always found yourself going from town to town and meeting a lot of people along the way. You were very much a woman of the world.

The men around the table all groaned in disappointment when they looked down to see that you had won yet another round at the poker table. The saloon was lively and kicking that night. It was filled to the brim with people from town and others like you who were just passing through and needed a place to hold up for the night. The drinks flowed freely, the conversations and people inside grew more rowdy by the minute. It wasn't a surprise how you witnessed more than a few fights here and there from some drunkards that night.

"Damn. I fold, woman," one of the older gentleman at the table groaned.

He had a greying beard that almost reached down to his shoulders. His tarnished rancher clothing letting you his livelyhood wasn't with easy work.

"C'mon Willard, don't ya wanna stay for another round? I'm not done takin' your day's pay yet," you smiled cheekily.

He downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass, "I ain't stickin' 'round for that'un. I gotta ranch to keep."

"I'm afraid I'll have to say the same," Jack, the other gentleman at the table spoke up.

He was a much different breed from the rest of the patrons. He had a very posh evening suit on, and his accent sounded as if he was from a more upscale city like Blackwater or Saint Denis. He was definitely a stranger in these parts where hardworking people and outlaws seemed to be the only real inhabitants.

Jack was the small glimmer of a near future; a future where outlaws and simple way of living was to be done away with. It was a way of life no one wanted anymore. A whole new world was coming, both literally and figuratively.

You scoffed and finished off your own drink, "Well, it's been fun, boys. Maybe I'll see y'all around again."

"Maybe, if I have a cent left to my name," Willard said gruffly as he left the table and disappeared into the crowd.

"I may stick around for another drink or two. Take in the sights," Jack spoke, flashing you a coquettish smile.

A smile small formed on you lips as you gave him a nod, obliging him. You didn't fancy him much. He was rather big-headed and his conversation skills were dull. You were more-so entertaining him out of the need for cash. It wasn't a secret that you didn't have a job, or a husband to take care of you. You never were much of a woman to settle down with a man for just the sake of stability, anyway.

You made most of your money by beating the pants off of arrogant drunks at poker in saloons like this, or anything else that could be made into a gamble, but your main source of funds came from robbing. Though, you did your best not to rob anyone who was actually innocent, that never sat right with you. But Jack.. He seemed like the type of prick that would steal candy from a kid and then ask why it's crying.

So, as the night went on, the saloon got louder and the whiskey got better. You had taken a few shots, but you seemed to hold your liquor better than half the men around here. Jack was beginning to slurr, while his pomade slicked hair was now disheveled and clinging to his face as he held onto the bar. He was good and loaded; bad for him, but good for you. It don't seem like it'd take much of a fuss to get whatever valuables he had on him, and you had already spotted a beautiful, gold pocketwatch that was hanging in his waistcoat.

You turned to him, buttoning up your old leather trailcoat. Your wardrobe always seemed to change depending on your situation. Some days you'd be as ladylike as any other gal, as you were clothed in a dress with a tightly clinched waist thanks to the corsets you wore, and other days you were what would have been your refinement headmistress' worst nightmare when you dressed like the outlaw that you truly were at heart.

"I'm feeling a bit peckish. Mind walkin' a lady back to her room?" You mustered up a charming smile, gesturing your hand towards the door.

You had taken up residence at the hotel across the street for time being. Jack seemed to have no quarrel about this by any means. He took the last sip of whiskey from his glass and turned to you, jutting out his arm for you to take it.

"It'd be my pleasure, miss (Y/N)," he spoke.

You gave him a nod as you intertwined your arm with his. The two of you set off for the hotel, the walk would give you the time you needed to come up with a satisfactory plan, one that wouldn't land you in Valentine county jail. You quickly decided that leading him into your room would be best, and once you do, you'd knock him out with the butt of your gun, empty his pockets and get the hell outta town. You had pretty much overstayed your welcome here anyway, and you were growing wearing of this sloppy, muddy town.

After stomping through the muggy streets, you made it back over to the porch of the hotel, and you received your fair share of dirty glances from a few old crones who saw you as you walked through the entrance, leading a man upstairs. You already knew what it was that they were thinking, the town had more than it's fair share of ladies of the night, but you were not one of them. Of course robbing people could probably be considered more immoral than prostitution, but it was your method of choice. It also had an element of fun to it, you had to admit.

"Would you like to come in for one more drink?" You turned to Jack while standing outside your door.

A coy smirk tugged at his lips, "Yes ma'am, I would."

You hummed, turning around to open your door. You needed to work fast, get the job done and hit the road as quick as possible, so you led him inside of your room, closing the door tightly begind you. You took in a small breath as you turned around to Jack who was standing behind you. He was a tad wobbly on foot, and that was good. You gave a polite smile as you stepped over to a small mahogany table near the tall chester drawer that sat in the middle of the room. You lifted the small, crystal pitcher that was filled halfway with the familiar whiskey and poured a generous amount into the glass before handing it over to Jack.

"Good 'nuff?" You asked with a smile.

"That'll do it," he chuckled, eyeing the full glass, reaching out for it.

You perched yourself against the chester drawer as you watched him down the liquor, just waiting. He gulped it down halfway before coughing, he took a breath before setting it down onto the table.

"You've peaked my curiosity," he said, shifting his dark eyes to you.

"Have I now?" You blinked at him.

He nodded, "What is a woman like yourself doing all alone here anyway? Surely you've had suitors," he shrugged, eyeing you.

You studied him for a moment, his face seemed to have gone mostly blank and emotionless by this point.

"Once upon a time, I suppose," you cleared your throat. "I never really fancied marriage as much as some women."

He blinked at you before taking a step closer, reaching down into his pocket. Your intution began to nag you in the back of your mind, and you brought your arms up to cross them over your chest, ensuring that you could get to your revolver quickly, if needed. Jack brought his hand back out of his waist coat, a money clip gripped between his fingers.

"What are you doin'?" You asked, looking at him with a peculiar expression.

"How much?" He smiled, pulling a few bucks out of the clip.

Your lips parted, "I beg your pardon?"

He shook his head before looking back at you, a concerning smile forming over his lips, "How much to spend some time with a fine woman such as yourself? C'mon darling, I know playing poker can't be the only game you're running here."

You furrowed your eyebrows at his accusation, knowing exactly what it was that he was inferring, "I'm not a whore."

"What's your price?" He gave you a cocky look.

"No price," you growled. "I do think you should go now."

"But I don't want to," he took another step towards you.

Your heart began to beat beneath the surface of your chest like a drum, all of your better instincts crying out for you to shoot him now, but you couldn't. If you shot him right here, right now, you'd for sure lose every freedom, and if the law didn't get you, the bounty hunters sure as shit would. There had to be another way outta this.

"Please, leave me be," you said firmly.

He shook his head, "I won't ask you to do anything you haven't don't before," he said, reaching out to brush a finger through your hair.

You reflexes were faster than your willpower, your hand darted into your trail coat, fully prepare to grasp the butt of the revolver you had holstered inside of it, but he must have already calculated that possibility, snd before your fingers could get halfways gripped around it, he had caught your wrist, bending it backwards before pressing you roughly against the chester drawer.

"Bastard!" You hollered, kneeing him roughly in the groin.

That slowed him down enough so that you could push past him, and reach the door. You flung it open, your only mission was to make it out, make it outside of this place and ride far, far away from this hell. You sprinted out of the room, but your journey game to a short stop once you ran smack dab into something solid.

For a moment, you thought it was a wall, or maybe the law, until you looked up to see the tall silhouette of a man in the dark hallway of the hotel. The only light available were the few flickering oil lamps that were mounted outside each door. The man that stood in front of you was sturdy and tough looking, in a cowboy hat that was pushed down over his eyes, his beard being one of the only real visible facial features.

"'Scuse me, madame," he said in a gruff, but oddly polite tone of voice.

"Sorry," you breathed your heart still racing as you turned your head back towards the door.

Jack pulled himself out of the entrance, "(Y/N), come back inside." His eyes darted between you and the strange man in front of you.

"No," you shook your head.

The tough looking cowboy looked between the both of you, "Sounsds like you folks had a scuffle going on. Heard it from down the way." He gestured towards the end of the hall.

Jack chuckled nervously, "A bit too much to drink I'm afraid, sir. Thank you."

The man gave Jack a smirk, "Uh-huh. Or maybe you're tryin' to rough up the lady." He shifted his eyes towards you.

You looked back at him, silently pleading for him to help.

"That's quite a serious accusation," Jack narrowed his eyes.

"No harm meant, partner. Why don't you just leave the girl be, and we can all go on about our business," the man nodded at Jack.

"I'm afraid this isn't your business," Jack shook his head, ignoring the man's warning as he stepped forward, reaching out to grab your wrist again.

You fought back this time, pushing him away with your hands, "Get off me."

The man had obviously had enough of the situation and grabbed Jack by the shoulders, slamming him against the wall, "Do I gotta tell you again, boah? I won't be sayin' it a third goddamn time."

They had a scuffle as Jack tried to throw a punch back at the man, but he seemed to be absolutely no match for whomever this man was, he slung Jack around like a rag doll. A few blows being exchanged between them before the man gave the final punch that knocked the man out cold on the ground.

"Jesus," you breathed.

Before either of you could catch a breathe, you heard voices and soon the footsteps of people coming up the stairs. The two of you looked at each other in panic.

"Quick, get him into my room," you urged, reaching down to grab Jack's legs.

The man leaned down in front of the body and grabbed ahold of it and the two of you of you drug him into your room, shutting the door tightly. You held yourself against it with your ear pressed against it, listening out for anything suspicious. What you heard sounded like a man and a woman passing by the door, nothing seemed to serious and neither of them stopped at your door. Once the hall went silent again, you breathed a sigh of relief as you turned and pressed your back against the door, looking back up at the man.

"Thank you, mister. You saved me a lot of trouble," you said, giving him a nod.

He nodded back, "Don't mention it, just doin' the right thing."

You smiled and dropped to your knees beside Jack's body, rifling through his pockets to find the gold pocketwatch and the money clip. He had a whole $50 on him. You glanced up at the man who looked at you a little surprised, but did seem to be at all bothered to see you robbing this man. It wasn't that much surprising to you either, he too had the outlaw look about him, you figure he had probably some his fair share of robniyng, too. You pulled $25 out of the clip, handing it over to the man.

"For your troubles," you smiled.

He held his hand up, "No ma'am, he had it comin'."

You gestured again, "I insist that you take it, we both need to get the hell outta here before he wakes up."

The man gave you an amused look before dropping his head a little, a smirk curling one side of his lip.

He reached out, taking the money and pocketing it quickly, "C'mon, I know the back way out."

He motioned you to follow him, and he led the two of you to the back of the building where the fire escape sat. He let you climb down first as he followed behind. The night air was already starting to turn cool, and most of the town had gone to sleep for the night, nothing to be heard except for the commotion still going on over at the saloon. Once you made it down, you kept close to the building as you peeked around the corner, luckily the streets were mostly empty.

"You gotta horse?" The man asked.

"No," you shook your head, "The stable usually keeps a few in the corral at night, I'll see about rustling one up."

"Nah, too risky. Too many damn buildings 'round there. You'll get caught before you clear the fence," he said sternly.

You stammered, shrugging, "Maybe so, but I can't make it anywhere without a horse, mister."

He nodded and stood there for a minute in silence, staring at you as if he was thinking about something. He looked around before turning back to you, letting out a breath that quickly turned into vapor in the cool, night air.

"Ride with me then," he said.

Your lip curled slightly, you were obviously a bit apprehensive about this after what had just happened. He obviously noticed this when he held his hands up and took a step back.

"Look, I've gotta camp up the road, me and some other folks. You don't gotta say yeah, but you can have somewhere warm to stay the night. If you try to take off with one of them horses, you're gonna get yourself in a mess of trouble," he said, pulling his hands back down to his sides.

You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and unlike with Jack, there was no nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you not to go. Instead, there was just a sense of safety, and something was telling you that you could trust this man for whatever reason.

You thought about it for a moment and finally nodded your head slowly, "Okay.. Let's go."

He gave you a nod before he whistled, calling to his horse that was nearby. I'm only took a moment for a dapple grey filly to come trotting up to the both of you out of the darkness, snorting and nudging at the man with Her head.

He grabbed a hold of her reins and patted her on the neck, "Hey there, girl," he said gently.

He pressed his foot into the stirrup before pulling himself up into the saddle on her back. You followed suit as he held out his hand, you grabbed onto it tightly as he hoisted you up to sit behind him. You sighed as you leaned forward into him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he spurred the animal quickly to get her moving. She soon picked up the pace and you were galloping out of town, the wind at your back as the countryside began passing you by.

You pulled your head up from the man's back, leaning up a little more, "You never told me your name!" You said in a louder tone, making sure he could hear you over the sound of the horse's hooves thundering against the earth beanth you.

He leaned his head back slightly, "Arthur.. Arthur Morgan. What's yours?"

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)," you called back to him.

"Nice to meet'cha, miss (Y/L/N)," he said, snapping the reins of the horse.

"And you as well, Mister Morgan," you said with a small smile before leaning your head back down to him, preparing yourself for the ride back to camp.

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #166

Baseball season is in the air! Thankfully, you don’t need to be a fan of the sport to like this chapter. So long as you enjoy the stupid antics of a bunch of socially awkward teenage girls, there’ll be plenty of fun to be had. And of course, it wouldn’t be Watamote if they didn’t include a bunch of expertly intricated plot threads and natural character development as well. With all of Nico Tanigawa’s passions coming together once again, I can say that this chapter is definitely in top form.

So without further ado, let’s play ball!

Chapter 166: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Go Cheer

Tomoko getting flabbergasted just by Katou existing never gets old.

You know, I always had the impression that Tomoko wording things in the most perverted way was just a gut reaction due to her mind being perpetually in the gutter. But now, I feel like her answer here is just too on the nose to be anything but deliberate. IdiotPerv!Tomoko is hilarious, but TrollPerv!Tomoko is too powerful. 

Consequently, Tomoko can’t say shit without it biting her in the ass.

Okada with the save. Sure, she probably didn’t want to look like a slacker from Katou either, but still. If Katou’s the mom friend, then Pineapple-chan’s the exasperated, but supportive onee-san friend.

I just realized that this is a standard routine with these two: Yuri will say something tactless and Mako will call her name out in admonishment. If this has been going on since they first met, then Mako has boundless patience and/or is the absolute best friend that no person should ever take for granted. Not that 

Yuri does...mostly.

Y'all can tell that baseball fan Ikko had a blast drawing the backgrounds in this chapter.

Speaking of which, I’m 212% certain that Komiyama’s role in this chapter is to be the mouthpiece for Nico Tanigawa’s baseball fanatism. Given that it’s technically in-character (for who is basically their self-insert), and baseball chapters can only feasibly happen every hundred chapters or so, I’m fine with the mangakas taking these little indulgences.

Hey, let the girl live a little! Komi’s gotta cram ten chapters worth of dialogue she won’t get into one.

Pardon me, Tomoko, but you seem to have left your self-awareness by the entrance to the stadium.

Naturally, Tomoko hates that Komiyama isn’t making a fool of herself in front of her mom-crush. It’s easy to forget that so long as you don’t set off her berserk buttons, Komiyama is actually quite...normal. Like, being amicable with others and casually humble-bragging is her default state. 

Nico Tanigawa’s artistic habit of putting nicknames under faces always amuses me.

There’s being upset, and then there’s being petty. We all know that Tomoko is aware that Itou is in the band, and any other day, she wouldn’t hold that against the girl. But because she’s salty over Komiyama acting cool, her sensibilities revert back to Year-1 Tomoko logic. 

Now, if I were a more crass person, I could make the assumption that the majority of those underclassmen were a combination of girls admiring Fuuka’s “cool beauty” status and boys wanting to check out an attractive senior girl in a cheerleading outfit, discrepancies notwithstanding. 

But I won’t.  

Oh yeah, Miho. Based on the above cheers, she seems like your average popular girl, but if you recall, she got a kick out of Katou’s “offers” to Tomoko. That said, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a bit of a mean streak in her.

Btw...armpits? Okay, then...

You’d think that by now, Tomoko would learn some subtlety before pulling shit like this.     

Normally, I’d call Tomoko out for shenanigans since I thought she was mostly over the whole “slut-shaming” thing. But given how she wasn’t thinking this when the girls in her class wore cheerleading outfits during last year’s sports festival (that we know of), I can only assume that this is more of Tomoko’s jealousy due to Fuuka’s friendship with Katou.

Either that, or Tomoko just doesn’t want to admit she finds her hot.

I think we’re all in agreement that Ucchi’s gonna lose massive points for this.

On the other hand, the image of Emoji Girl screaming about Tomoko’s crimes through a megaphone is peak absurdity, and I’ve been laughing my ass off for twelve minutes. 

In all seriousness, I’m kind of glad that Tomoko is finally getting her way overdue karma for all her skirt-peeping. Sure, it’s all been played for comedy, but that doesn’t change the fact that its sexual harassment, or the fact that she’s more than likely gotten away with it for being female.

It’s all fun and games until your stalker calls you out on it.

LIES.

You know...maybe it is Tomoko’s fetish. She’s done it so frequently, and it’s always been portrayed as just another one of Tomoko’s “quirks”. But given the context of all those occurrences, having a skirt-peeping fetish actually sounds very plausible. Thank you, Yuri, for that insight. 

Looking at Katou’s expression, it might be her fetish, too...

Seeing Tomoko get more and more mortified as everyone keeps dogpiling on her shame makes for quite the cathartic reading. 

Add on to the fact that Komiyama, the biggest perv of all, is the most dignified at this moment just makes this whole chapter an absolute treat.

Considering that Tomoko basically just got outed as a pervert in the middle of a crowd of spectators, she’s taking this quite well. First-year Tomoko could’ve had a legit panic attack if that had happened, but now, she actually has enough nerve to retaliate. Sure, Tomoko had some decent ammo with the Tanabata wish, so she likely had more guts than she would’ve been, but it’s still impressive nonetheless.

Sasaki Fuuka–putting a new spin on the term “victim-blaming”. 

Komiyama can be the reasonable one while Tomoko is the crazy pervert, or Tomoko can be the reasonable one while Komiyama is the crazy pervert.

But the universe just can’t have both be reasonable or perverted at the same time. 

As someone who knows jacksh*t about sports, I have to admit that this is an interesting fun fact if it can be applied to the popularity of real-life sports teams and cheer squads.

I could totally see this becoming a meme in the Watamote fandom. Anyone?

These moments of zero dialogue, sometimes a whole page’s worth, excel at immersing the reader into the story. Suddenly, you’re not just reading about characters in a story. You’re now experiencing first hand what’s like to be at a baseball game, with a few familiar faces from the band and cheer teams making it feel a lot more lively. 

If it weren’t for all the wonderful peeps on Reddit, I never would’ve caught that this is the same baseball manager we’re seen periodically since the beginning of the series. You know, the one Tomoko did that fake dub for?

Perhaps I’ll call her...Beta!Nemo. 

A PSA to all you non-sports fans: You can now pretend to be interested in your favorite high-school teams just by tuning into your local service provider.

Go, Harajuku Makuhari!

You know, I think I mentioned before that I wasn’t sure what Komiyama’s career prospects were.

Now I’ve got a clue.

Yo, I could feel that pain from my screen.

For a second, I thought this was Reina, given we can’t see her eyes and that she’s manspreading (sounds like something she would do). But then I pictured her actually signing up for cheerleading and...yeah, no. 

Not to sound all pretentious if you already know, but cheerleading really is one of the most difficult, dangerous, and underappreciated sports there is. In addition to all the physical risks, you have to maintain an endlessly cheery disposition, even when it’s hard. That’s why I call it the “customer service job” of the sports industry.

The go-to method to keep your in-story sports team at peak realism: 

Unwavering mediocrity. 

As opposed to them hurrying up and win? Quite the pessimist you are, Tomoko...

not.

As startling as it is to hear these words come out of Tomoko’s mouth, it’s not entirely unfounded. For all her negative worldviews, crude behavior, and general apathy, the one thing that has always been constant about Tomoko is that she knows things can be better and she wants things to be better. She never got the chance to really strive for it back then when she had nothing to latch onto. But now that she’s got friends, Tomoko realizes that she can feasibly make some of those ideals a reality.  

Their unbridled admiration is sweeter than diabetes.

Insert long-winded discussion of a related social phenomenon that probably exists, but the author is too lazy to research here. 

She...didn’t deny it. 

Character development...I guess?

I was wondering where Tomoko would draw the line on her slut-shaming towards Fuuka. Granted, it’s probably easier to feel empathy when you can see that shit happening from other people rather than yourself. 

But seriously, Katou? Pimping out your friend? You terrify me more and more with each passing chapter. 

See what I’ve been getting at? Tomoko knows that realistically speaking, her summer is probably not going to be anything extraordinary. Inconveniences will occur, moments of boredom will arise, and missed opportunities will transpire. But as I’ve reiterated time and again, even those “plain” experiences can become delightful memories when shared with those you care about.

That’s going to be a crucial feeling from this point on, it looks like. ‘Cause based on Yuri’s expression, she may have the most difficulty resonating with that kind of emotion. Let's see just how Yuri handles an expanding social circle–Tomoko included–that’s a little more bright-eyed than she is. 

We’re in the seventh inning stretch of Tomoko’s third year, and time will only tell if it ends in a victory.