#The “might’ve changed’’ argument can work for literally ANYONE

[capitalisticveins]

I feel like some of y’all just like Alexis out of spite

[realcube]

The Maid Café || Saiki K x Reader

summary: nendou and kaidou keep pestering saiki to visit their favourite maid café but he shuts them down every time. however, after a bit of prying they manage to convince him to give the place a try and while they are there, you just so happen to be on shift. 

tw// cussing, maid café, (she/her) reader

key:

“non italicised text” = somebody besides Saiki speaking

“italicised text” = Saiki telepathically communicating

‘italised text’ = Saiki’s thought

‘Of course Nendou and Kaidou would be into maid cafés of all things — not cat cafés, not internet cafés — it just had to be maid cafés.’  

Saiki’s internal monologue began as Kaidou continued gushing on about the cute lady he met at the café a few days ago as an argument to why Saiki should join them next time they go. Not to say Saiki wasn’t listening as he felt extremely sorry for whatever lady had to tolerate Kaidou’s advances and his prayer went out to her but besides that, he really couldn’t care less about the maids or the café. 

Until, his attention was involuntarily aroused at the vocalisation of his name from Nendou, “Saiki’s definitely in for Friday, I’m pretty sure I sold him when I told him that the sandwiches there are almost as good as the ramen we usually get.”

‘No, you didn’t. I won’t be coming to join you on Friday. I’d much rather stay--’ 

Somehow Kaidou managed to cut off Saiki’s internal monologue with his annoying voice, “Don’t be silly, Nendou. You’re not going to win Saiki over with such a ridiculous comparison, one that he clearly doesn’t care about.” 

‘Am I delusional? Is this a hallucination? Or did Kaidou just say something logical and based in reality?’

Kaidou’s aura immediately changed to dark and sinister as a mischievous smirk crossed his face, the background squawks of the crows suddenly became much louder for some unknown reason. “Instead, you must locate your opponent's weak point before you can recognise the crucially important moment to exploit it. The process takes patience but it is one I have learned from my many years rebelling against Dark Reunion. Now, young Nendou, watch and learn.” He finished with a dramatic flip of his school jacket which was slung over his shoulders as a cape.

‘What was all that about?’

Saiki wondered before Kaidou turned to him, much less brooding than he was a few seconds ago, and said casually, “Your loss if you don’t come, Saiki — you’ll be the one missing out on some of the best desserts in our whole town — not to mention the coffee jelly.”

✿✿✿✿✿

‘How do I always end up losing to these people? I am a psychic for god’s sake!’

Saiki mentally cursed himself out as he stood shamefully in front of the maid café, wearing a carefully curated outfit — including his germanium ring  — created especially to hide his identity from anyone from his school that might pass by the café and spot him in there through the window or something. Honestly, he wouldn’t be caught dead in a maid café, or so he thought.

However, all the reviews he read along with both Nendou and Kaidou’s thoughts helped him conclude that this place’s coffee jelly and general dessert selection is nothing to sneeze at. In fact, his favourite Tumblr blog - DeadlyDesserts11037 - visited the place and gave it a 5 star review, recommending everybody who happens to pass by the town to definitely check the place out. After that, he was sold.

Saiki looked over at his friends and couldn’t help but facepalm in response to their bright red, thrilled expressions. “Good grief, please don’t tell me you are both that excited over ladies in maid outfits.” As you might’ve guessed, Saiki didn’t really understand the concept of a ‘maid café’, so he simply assumed the male obsession with maids had something to do with the objectification of women hence he obviously did not want to take part.

“Saiki, you’re seriously just built different if this doesn’t touch your soul.” They both brushed the pink-haired boy’s comment off, completely mesmerised by the sight of a particularly pretty maid-lady walking by the window — probably on her way to serve a table — carrying a notepad in one hand and a plate with a scrumptious-looking coffee jelly on top. 

Saiki followed their gaze, his breath hitching at the sight. He was speechless; no sarcastic comment, no running commentary, nothing. Just..woah! If he had known that the girls that work at this place were so gorgeous and the food looked so delicious, he would’ve came a long time ago.

He wasn’t even sure which one he wanted more; the girl or the jelly. In a way, one wasn’t complete without the other because the coffee jelly which she held high next to her head brought out her (E/C) eyes while her shapely figure highlighted the defined curves of the jelly. Drool was quick to start forming at the corners of his lips but he was even quicker to wipe it away; he was starving.

“We’re going in.”

✿✿✿✿✿

To Saiki’s dismay, it was not the stunning (H/C)-haired girl who he had caught a glimpse of through the glass that ushered them to their table. Rather, it was a slightly less gorgeous maid-lady who had long, bright purple hair which was clearly a wig. 

Fortunately for him, after she left Kadiou, Nendou and himself to take their seats, she rushed off saying that someone will come take their orders whenever they are ready.

Even with his psychic abilities, there wasn’t much he could think of to alter fate so the pretty coffee-jelly lady would end up serving their table, and besides that, he was way too caught up in gawking at all the mouth-watering desserts they had pictured on the menu. 

Simply glancing over the menu brought a stupid grin to his face, he wanted to try every delectable treat presented in front of him. However, he knew he must exhibit restraint, which was fairly simple as he knew deep down there was only one thing on the menu that he was truly after. You guessed it  — coffee jelly.

Usually, he couldn’t care less about what his friends comrades were going to order but in this case, he was tempted to try convince both Kaidou and Nendou to order something he liked so he could take a bite of whatever they were having, “What are you two going to order?”

Yet again though, he was ignored as Nendou and Kaidou were both too busy checking out other types of snacks to care about the ones on the menu. 

Then, a movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention so his head jolted from the menu to his new target, the beautiful girl he had saw through the window earlier. Previously, she was holding a coffee jelly but now she was basically empty handed, until she approached the table and pulled out a notepad and pen, “May I take your orders?” She asked in the most calming, melodious voice Saiki had ever heard, the sounds that left her mouth were nothing short of angelic. Which made sense since her serving their table must’ve been god’s gift to Saiki for all his hard work.

Chills, Saiki got literal chills before he mused, “A coffee jelly, and two brownies for the pair of clowns.” His blood ran cold; curse his smooth sarcastic comments! Most of the time, he was able to filter himself but due to the nerves that arose while talking to you, he probably shouldn’t be surprised that he had a little slip of the tongue. But now, you probably think he is a bitch that insults people on the regular; which he is, but not usually aloud! Plus, he couldn’t even tell what you were thinking due to his germanium ring and your distant expression, awful combo!

While he was in the middle of feeling bad for himself and considering teleporting away home, a miracle happened, you burst out laughing. And somehow, your laughter was even more silvery than your voice. 

Saiki had zoned-out from pure shock for a moment before coming back to reality, noticing that you had started jotting down something in your notepad, a sweet smile still lingering on your face despite the fact you had stopped laughing. “Alright, so one coffee jelly and two brownies. Anything else?” You asked, glancing back and forth between the three equally unique and strange men sitting at the table. 

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Saiki telepathically communicated as he usually did, considering actually using his mouth to speak for a change so he didn’t seem weird but in all honesty, he couldn’t be bothered. In any other situation, he would’ve gotten a drink of water or perhaps hot cocoa but right now he was way too afraid of making another error in his speech to request something else. 

Silently, he extended his arm to hand you the menu he was given when he entered the café, along with the ones Kaidou and Nendou were given too. His actions single-handedly shooting down your plan of leaning across the table to ‘take the menus’ but in reality it is just a subtle way of showing-off how nice your torso looked in this maid outfit, a trick you learned from your supervisor. 

You nodded, closing over your notepad and making your way over to the kitchen, being sure to swing your hips just a little bit extra to impress the pink-haired megane at the table you just took an order from. You mentally cursed your stupid brain though for always crushing on guys/gals who don’t seem the least bit interested in you. In this case, the guy’s attention was divided between his star-struck friends and the desserts on the menu, rather than you which was an unusual sight in a maid café considering that most people would only come to ogle at the waitresses. 

✿✿✿✿✿

“So, Saiki.” Kaidou finally landed back into reality after a large chunk of the waitresses roaming around were now in the kitchen which he didn’t have viewing access to, “What did you order us?”

‘So, he was fully aware that the waitress came to take his order, he just chose to ignore her and left me to order his food. What a child, it must be a side-effect of his eighth grade syndrome.’

Saiki couldn’t help but sigh, “I ordered you both brownies.”

Kaidou stuck out his bottom lip to form a pout as he crossed his arm over his chest like a toddler, “I hate brownies.” He muttered to himself, realising that if he wanted something done right, he’d have to do it himself.

An amused smirk tugged at Saiki’s lips but he resisted the urge to laugh, ‘I know.’ He thought, his masterplan to eat more food without looking greedy falling into place. “Oh well, more for me then.”

Suddenly, Nendou spun his head around to abruptly join the conversation, “Hey guys, did you see the hottie that was serving our table?” He inquired with starry eyes, as if he was a kid in a candy store.

Saiki nodded, ‘Obviously I did, you moron. I was the one who ordered the food for goodness’ sake!’

Kaidou shook his head, his eyes lighting up as he leaned in close to Nendou, “Nope! I was busy looking at the other girls, but tell us!” 

Nendou chuckled at Kaidou’s enthusiastic reaction before glancing to the side, outstretching his arm and pointing at the waitress that was now approaching the table with the food in her hands. “There she is!”

‘Don’t point at her, you idiot!’ Saiki mentally insulted his friend but instinctively followed the guidance of the tip of his finger until his eyes landed on your shapely figure — accentuated by the nature of the maid outfit  — slowly heading toward his table, holding the coffee jelly and the plate of brownies in the same graceful way you did when he saw you through the window. 

The gleam of your gorgeous hair, the movement of your luscious lashes, the gentle bounce of your upper body, how your perfectly manicured nails clutched the base of the jelly glass; everything about what he was seeing made him believe that if/when he were to die, this would be his ideal first sight as he passed through the gates of heaven. 

Before he knew it, you had reached the table and placed his jelly down on the table, gently nudging it towards him, “One coffee jelly for the cute boy with antennas.” You mused, making Saiki’s heart flutter in a way he was unfamiliar with. Then, you placed the brownies in front of Kaidou and Nednou who sat opposite from Saiki, “And two brownies for the clowns.” 

If it wasn’t for the fact the pair of clowns were too busy leching over you in your maid outfit, they’d probably be curious as to your choice of words but luckily for both you and Saiki, they were way to entranced by your visible bra strap to care about the little nickname.

Saiki felt a light blush creep onto his face, which only got worse as you discretely sent him a playful wink before turning on your heels to stroll back to the kitchen, “If you need anything else, just give me a wave.” 

All of them hummed agreement in unison until the waitress was out of sight, giving Saiki a moment to process the events that had just went down. Not only did you refer to him as ‘the cute boy with antennas’ but you also winked at him, if that wasn’t a clear sign you were interested, what was? However, Saiki still had his doubts since this was a maid café after all, perhaps you were just trained to do that with all your customers.

Luckily, the had the foresight to slip off his germanium ring to read your mind and that helped him come to the conclusion that you were either interested in him or you were just very competitive as the whole time you were serving the table your thoughts were along the lines of;

‘I’ll adjust my skirt- Ha! You looked! Try resist falling for me now, you hot lil’ megane! Your heart is mine and I know it! See, I’ll fidget with my corset too-- just make a move already, pinkie!’

Although he didn’t appreciate being called ‘pinkie’, he had no right to judge what was going on in your brain. All he could do is be thankful that you didn’t say that aloud.

✿✿✿✿✿

You sighed as you noticed the pink-haired boy and his little posy exit the establishment without so much as a goodbye, or even a wave! 

It was disappointing as you had already mentally planned your future with this guy and he had the audacity to do the real life equivalent of leaving you on read. But oh well, it would be approximately a week until you developed a crush on a random customer that lasts for around 30 minutes and for the time being, you can focus on doing your job.

You glumly shuffled over to their table to gather their plates to be washed, then a piece of colourful paper attached to the empty jelly glass caught your eye. As you held up the glass to inspect it further, you realised that it was a sticky note with a message written on it in black ink and neat, cursive handwriting. It read:

‘Dearest waitress,

Thank you for the excellent service, we (myself) tipped accordingly.��

You hadn’t finished reading yet but you were curious as to what he meant by that, and apparently you service must’ve been exceptional as the writer had left a whole ¥2000 tip. That’s a huge addition to the demonia fund.  

Followed by this charming little message was an extra tip for you; the writer’s phone number! Meaning that this little sticky note was something you had to protect with your life..so you shoved it in your bra for safe-keeping. 

But not before taking a moment to giggle with delight at who the note was signed by, 

‘Sincerely, the hot lil’ megane (aka Kusuo Saiki)’ 

[notsodailycake]

Controversial take here:

I’ve given it some thought, and I’ve decided I can’t like Luis. It seems they’ve talked a few times over email, but that’s as far as it went. Luis should’ve recognized she wasn’t interested and stopped asking her out. My main gripe with him, however, isn’t over what he did, but what he DIDN’T do. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Vanessa hacked into the Pizzaplex. If it was literally anyone else on the planet, he would’ve reported them right away. But he let his feelings get in the way, and chose not to intervene.

When someone you like, or even love, is in a situation like this, you don’t bury your head in the sand. You intervene. I know he tried to talk to her, but that should’ve been the last straw. He should’ve acknowledged it was now a major work related issue after she never responded, and done his job. Not to mention everything else he let her get away with, or just didn’t notice. I feel confident anyone else wouldn’t have been given that much leeway with the red flag searches, or been brushed off like that. I mean, she LITERALLY typed “help” and he just moved on. That, to me at least, is very nearly unforgivable.

Because here’s the thing: if Vanessa was stopped then and there, that would’ve been that. I’m pretty sure they could run the hack back once it was uncovered and actually fix it. And, at the very least, Vanessa wouldn’t have killed any kids. Furthermore, with the glitch identified, I’m sure they could stop any other beta testers influenced by Afton. They might’ve been able to purge the virus from Vanessa after studying it. And it’s not like Burntrap was the real problem anyway. GLITCHtrap is the real threat. We can clearly see that Vanny’s been down in the basement, even sleeping there, so it’s entirely possible he wouldn’t even exist if not for her.

That’s not to say that all of the suffering is his fault, though. Hell, he’s a bit of victim, to. After their first in person conversation, in which he talks about her being interested in IT stuff, Vanessa created that fake ID to hack into the system. Vanessa, or rather Afton, used Luis for information.

I guess this is my own simping for Vanessa, expressing my anger at the one person who was in a position to see her descent into a very dark pit, and yet, for whatever reason, failed to stop her fall.

Maybe I could like Luis if the three star ending was the true one, with Vanessa getting freed and gaining a family in the process. But as far as the story, she’s still trapped in a living hell, with very little chance of escape. And the flames will only get hotter for her.

In my mind, the lesson contained in those emails and what follows is this: when you choose to ignore that someone you care about is in trouble, you will only make it far worse for THEM.

Wow there buddy, that's alot of words for a luis enjoyer like me- /j

Seriously tho, heh, sorry it took so long to reply to this. I was actually excited to get it, and wanted to form a proper reply/argument to this, so i had to get my facts straight. Bc i honestly dont like to just blindly defend a character (and this bit will be explained further into my argument)

So this one is gonna be a long one folks ;)

I'll start off and say that, i agree with your statement really.

To an extent. I still have my own points to argue obviously, i wouldn't be writing a whole analysis if not XD

Now this isn't something to make you change your mind on Luis, but my own views and opinions on it

I will share some stuff that i personally think before i go to your argument about Luis, just so you can maybe see my perspective of it all. And it inevitably will involve Vanessa and Gregory (and quite possibly Freddy)

I'll state that, i like flawed characters. I like characters with flaw. They are fun to write, and it makes them feel more human.

I don't belive in the good or bad, i belive that some characters are in a darker spectrum and others are on a lighter spectrum, but never black and white

Only characters who are insane would be so dark, and even then, I'd see some lighter shade to it

And purely white characters are annoying as hell, perfect doesn't make it good

And now this is probably a take of mine that you will probably not like, but it isn't an attack on you either I'm not mad at you for it lol, but, i dislike the purification of Vanessa that I've realised you've been doing throughout this. I like the fact that Vanessa is flawed, my view on her is that she isn't some perfect victim that needs constant protection (and this inevitably will probably be my own projection of myself onto her, since i was a victim of verbal abuse and some sort of manipulation as a kid), but she also needs help obviously

I don't think she deserved what she went through at all, if that's what you think, but that doesn't make it right to give her everything when she wasn't the only victim. I dislike the fact that everything seems to have to cater to her needs, when others where affected as well. She needs help, and so does the rest. Like Gregory

As much as i love and enjoy the sibling dynamic for them, i dont want to undermine what Gregory went through with her. Sure it wasn't her fualt, but Gregory is just a kid, and he almost died by her hands, he has his rights to be scared of her and avoid her, and that's why i don't like the idea of him imitatedly falling in on opening up to her or helping her, it takes time. Healing takes time, and it's something you'll see me explore more throughout the next parts (this probably is also me projecting, since i myself could never feel hurt or let myself heal bc the person who hurt me was also going through shit, probably worse then me, and I was the one helping them, even if they were the adult and i was a child, 9, i was 9. And it sucks bc it still affects me. So i am a little sensitive about this topic). And with that Vanessa also has every right to not want to be with Gregory bc of her inevitable trauma about killing kids

Both were hurt, and now they have to learn how to put the pieces back together. And I'll add as well about Freddy, even if the issue is small. Gregory hurt his friends, and upgraded him with his Friend's body parts. That, to a sentient robot, is horrible. But i know he can understand the kid's pov. But he's still hurt by it

And it's something they will have to work it out together

So general idea. I like the flaws of the characters, and i dont plan on defending them, but i also dont blame them or am happy they suffered. I want them to heal, i want to show how much actually healing takes time and effort for both parties

I like to look into every perspective. From the victim, from the outsider and from the abuser.

And now this lead to my reply to the Luis part

I will say, as i re read the emails from luis, yeah maybe so, he should have stopped, and my only reason to defend in this are possibly not even canon. But to me, I'd say she did show interest on him, if going by the therapy CDs, when she mentioned Luis you could practically see her twirling her hair by the tone of her voice

Or maybe it's just me-- but she sounded genuinely interested

But yeah, i do agree that maybe he pushed it more then he needed to, but it wasn't anything bad, he was subtle about it and just really trying a shot but to shy to actually make a move. Plus as furter down her descent, he actually stops asking, and is genuinely concerned for her well being and wanting to help but not knowing what to do since he's never seen something like this. Plus it seemed like he didn't wanna push her to talk when she didn't want to

It was still quite unnecessary for him to further insist. But hey, you can be kinda dense when you like someone >_>

Now him reporting her. Through a discussion i had with a mutual about Luis, it seems like they were already somewhat aquatinted with each other. I'd presume they considered each other close mutuals, but not friends.

And in my experience, that would make it so you kinda just, justify said persons actions, as you are not close enough to know everything, but close enough to kinda build an explanation as to why they are acting weird

Cuz as per Luis, if he did he would probably not see her anymore bc she will be moved out, and she has been working hard for her position, and sure maybe bc he liked her. But even if he didn't, it be the same light if they were friends, which seems to be a close case for them as well. As humans, or just genuinel living creatures, we can be quite selfish and be it friends or a crush, you wouldn't want to have them leave your side (and from what I've gathered they are in the same department, being able to pass by each other's work stations)

Was it still wrong of him? Oh yes definitely, but like i said, there is more sides then one to a story. It doesn't make him a bad person, but just a human being with a bias and the benefit of the doubt

And yeah, idealisticly, if you love someone dearly, you wouldn't bury your head in the sand. But unfortunately, that isn't always the case. I deeply care for my sister, love her more then ANYTHING (and dont you dare say anything otherwise💢💢), but I'll be lying if i say i sometimes i wouldn't do that if i didn't know better

In which in this case he didn't. He mentioned to be an isolated kid, he doesn't know social cues as well (which is something I've experienced with my sister, and hell even myself), so with that, he wouldn't fully acknowledge it. It is human of him to be like that. Not right sure, but since when was it human to always be right?

And i will add that, we dont fully know how their relationship was, we just know they talked with each other. And by how Vanessa is about Luis in the CDs, they seem closer to each other then with the other workers

Also, i kinda feel bad for the typing "help" part, as i, a complete dense human being, wouldn't have imitatedly picked up on it either. Bc i am dumb, and even as when i first read the email, i didn't pick up on that part until you pointed it out💀💀

And for that i deeply apologise, but also yeah- gives me the reason to say it wasn't so unrealistic for him to be this dense

And i agree, i can see this seems to come from your bias of Vanessa. And it's completely understandable- you're in your rights to dislike Luis. As much as any victim is to dislike what happened to them and the people around them who inevitably caused the problem

It's probably also something i might explore on my story ;)

And the lesson is correct, it's a matter of actually acknowledging the issue your loved one has and do something about it. But unfortunately that is not something everyone does, even of they and I'm sure afterwards the guilt lingers.

But in a general summary. Your feelings towards him are valid, and i can understand your point of view on this. But that's exactly what i like about his character

I dont defend his actions, i simply give an explanation to them and a view to this different side

[zukka-pegged-by-suki]

ok so guys, remember that “my father always says azula was born lucky, i was lucky to be born” line? yeah, now explain to me why tf are we even considering OZAIs words?!?! like some people use this line as an argument against azula when its literally what OZAI SAID?!?!!?!!?!

Zuko’s good and bad luck, as well as Azulas. Was either of them lucky? Let’s see.

Please read all of it before drawing assumptions.

Zuko’s luck:

- has mums care and affection

- has irohs care and affection

- can get away with being a softie as a child, because he may get disregarded and called weak but lets be honest, azula wouldnt have been able to get away with his behavior because she didn’t have firstborn privilege (which is a thing while azulon lived) or mummy’s protection like he did.

before anyone comes at me i’ll expand a bit on the firstborn privilege. as first born he was instantly considered more important by the masses since birth, that might’ve changed later but before neither could bend that much was still a fact. which means azula wouldn’t really have any recognition for anything unless she surpassed him in every way, which is what became her goal especially when ozai became the one who spent more time with her rather than ursa, anyways lets continue.

- constantly receiving second chances; iroh, the gaang minus katara, katara, azula (even if not from the “good” side), ozai (no matter the intentions, this much is true), iroh again, mai, the entire fckng world.

- he had a guide and help throughout his long healing and learning process.

Zuko’s bad luck:

- Unloving father

- Mummy disappears

- Doesn’t train that hard and surprise surprise, is worse than azula. Because if he had really trained hard, he would’ve at least known the formations wether he was able to firebend with them or not, but he was just clearly trying to copycat azula while tripping over because he didn’t have that much experience doing it. This is something no one can change my mind about. How tf did he expect to excel if he didn’t train enough. This wasnt about luck but hard work which he didn’t put in, too busy playing with mum and the little turtleducks. And I do not hate Zuko, I really love him but this is just a fact and he’s too fixed on blaming everyone else for his own mistakes and problems (esp Azula). Like, im sorry to break it out to you honey, but Ozai hates you because he’s an asshole, and that’s his own fault, not Azula’s.

- Scar and exile time, we all know this.

- Ugly haircut because of dishonor

- Finally achieving his goal of regaining his “honor” but realizing it wasn’t what he wanted only when he was already at the Fire Nation palace having all the glory from Aang’s presumed death.

- Katara’s distrust after his betrayal (bc who would’ve expected that to happen /s)

- Getting zapped in an attempt to save Katara.

I mean except for the things related to Ozai, most of this was all consequences from his own actions.

And I’m sorry but I don’t understand the fixation he has with having Ozai’s love. Unlike Azula, he has had his mother’s love and his uncle’s love. He knows what real love looks like and he has never really seen anything that could imply Ozai likes him, while he has Iroh treating him like he’s his actual father.

I’m not invalidating his traumas in any way and terrible things did happen to him, but why is he so obsessed with Ozai and why would he choose him over Iroh, he’s 16 and has been with Iroh since age 13, he was also with Ursa for the majority of his childhood, make it make sense.

Azula’s luck:

- Uh she was born rlly smart i guess

- She had some natural talent and knew to train hard to shape it to perfection, as well as studying a lot about war tactics and shit ig

- Ty Lee and Mai loved her and she loved them back

I mean as far as luck goes, that’s it. Everything else was achieved on her own merit and even if she had no scar, her traumas are just as valid as Zuko’s, neither is worse or better, we do not compare traumas in this house and they were both terrible.

Azula’s bad luck:

- Bad mother (i’ll make a post on why Ursa sucks)

- No second chances

- Mum never said goodbye just like she never said “i love you” lol, except in that one hallucination

- Never has had any real help to heal (i’ll make a post on why the asylum was a trash idea that would’ve never worked)

- Can’t fully trust anyone, not even herself, or will be punished for it

- The only people who loved her, Mai and Ty Lee, “betraying” her (check out my post on that, its under #jinta’s commentary)

- Ozai psychologically abusing her all her life

- Some characters may have been lonely, but she was genuinely absolutely alone. And she knew it.

- Hurt and self-hatred channeled through anger like Zuko did sometimes when he had that shame shave ponytail, but with her, its all the time.

- Even his abuser abandons her

- Everyone hates her but forgives Zuko, Mai and Ty Lee. And it’s so annoying because all Mailee did that Azula didn’t was swap sides almost at the end, if the excuse is that they were being manipulated well Ozai was manipulating Azula so what’s the excuse.

- Is always believed to be lying but usually isn’t (check out my azula always lies post)

- Has a mental breakdown and nobody gives a shit?! Like the first think Zuko thought of was “ooh she’s slipping lemme take advantage of that”

- Has nothing and no one, yay

- Gets thrown into a stupid asylum but not rlly because there are no comics in ba sing se

While Zuko had Ursa and Iroh to protect him and stuff, she was victim of Ozai’s manipulation and psychological abuse all her life.

So when we know Ozai said she was lucky, why tf is anyone taking his word for it??!

Plus when Zuko was born they didn’t know how he would be and Azula didn’t exist so there was no way he could’ve been lucky to be born.

Zuko was very unlucky, but he was also lucky.

Azula was just unlucky.

edit: as bellatrixobsessed1 said, azula had the illusion of luck.

[fishylife]

Spoilers for Hyena Ep 8

- I really like Ji-eun’s character. She’s not dumb, she’s not just a mindless sidekick. She knows her job involves toeing the line, and she knows that her boss works in mob boss ways. But her boss is also a good boss, and gives her opportunities to shine. I love seeing the little scenes when Geum-ja indulges her, like letting her order something fancy for dinner. At the very least, Geum-ja is a good boss.

- Geum-ja and Yu-mi....interesting. Listen, Yu-mi is annoying, but she’s not a completely illogical character. She’s just very dramatic, and she is being chased down by scary loan sharks, so the theatrics get blown up. She may have made some mistakes along the way too (i.e. accidentally letting someone else know that Geum-ja and Hee-jae dated), but I don’t think any of this was like, illogical. Though Choo Dong-sik, rude. Just walks into someone’s office while they’re with a client without knocking? Though he might’ve also done it on purpose. Who knows.

- Anyway, I thought it was interesting that Geum-ja did initially try to talk to Yu-mi calmly. She did trick Yu-mi and so Yu-mi does deserve an explanation. It did get annoying when she spam called Geum-ja and Ji-eun so then Geum-ja was like aight gonna brute force this. But she didn’t do this because she’s friends with Yu-mi, she did this to stop Yu-mi from pestering her forever and ever lol.

- Kim Min-joo returns and we see that she’s put some blame of her sister’s accident on Song Pil-jung. What’s the story? We’ll find out eventually, but in any case, we know what’s between them is both personal and political.

- Let’s talk about the team dinner. Sang-mi has no idea how to read the atmosphere, yikes. After getting drunk, I-jun said that Hee-jae and Geum-ja were like hyenas because they were too busy fighting each other. That got me thinking though, maybe fighting each other is a distraction for both of them. To distract them from their own problems, and to distract them from their attraction to each other. That, or they fight each other because that is the only thing they can fight, the only thing they can fight for. The only thing that Geum-ja really fears is her dad and she couldn’t fight him (because she thought she was still in prison), and now she has a steady income from Song & Kim, so she doesn’t have to fight for survival anymore. So maybe she channels that survival instinct into her legal work. As for Hee-jae, as a descendant of a prominent family, he also has his hands tied. He makes one wrong move and his world comes crashing down. He’s already the black sheep of the family for being a lawyer and not a judge, so if he’s going to be a black sheep, he might as well do it well and show his family that he can. And though they are attracted to each other, they both have lots of pride in being independent. Their first relationship ended poorly, and I think that to both of them, they’d feel that giving in to their feelings would be surrendering to the other and showing weakness. This might be bordering on BS though lol. Just me trying to fit pegs in holes.

- Before, I had suspected that Geum-ja’s informant was maybe a brother, because she cares for him, but not in like, a mushy way, but more in a family way. And in this episode, I guess we can assume that they’re at least childhood friends. Anyway, I think he was a police officer but he got fired for leaking info to Geum-ja, but I think they’re still tight. The dude accepted Geum-ja’s money, so I don’t think that he hates Geum-ja, he knew what he was getting into.

- We got more backstory on Geum-ja. Her name was Jung Eun-yong. Her dad had “drunkenly” killed her mom and gotten off light for it, so she studied law to try to get her dad in jail. Then she set things up so that it would look like he’d stabbed her, which would get him in jail for 30 years. Makes sense in terms of why Geum-ja grew to be the kind of person that she is.

- When Jung Chun-su, Geum-ja’s dad, visited Geum-ja, she showed behaviour that indicated that she was afraid of him. When he tried to give her his business card, she stepped back, and she was very hung up over that. Why? Well, all along Geum-ja has showed that she fears nothing. Death literally does not scare her, as we saw when she had to fight that dude in the alleyway. And it’s because she was already prepared to die once, when she was planning to put her dad in jail. But when she was with her dad, that’s when we first saw signs of Geum-ja actually being afraid. Geum-ja is annoyed at this probably because she thought she’d moved past fearing him, but in front of him, she returns to being that young girl. Again, makes tons of sense.

- The other thing is that to Geum-ja’s annoyance, her dad is now supposedly a changed man. Now that Chun-su’s a religious man, he’d like Geum-ja’s forgiveness. Well, it’s a bit soon for that because Geum-ja has seen him for two seconds and he hasn’t proved to her that he’s changed. But also, sometimes people just don’t want apologies. I think Geum-ja would rather never see her dad ever again than to open old wounds. Sometimes apologies are only for the perpetrators and sometimes do nothing for the victims. Geum-ja is probably still reconciling this pastor with the dad that she remembered. To her, her dad will always be the one that hurt her. I half expect Geum-ja to forgive her father, but I sure hope the writers don’t make it easy for him, because he needs to have done way more than just “be a changed man.” If I were Geum-ja I’d honestly just want to...never see him ever again, regardless of whether he was repentant or not.

- So it looks like Hee-jae and Geum-ja really only talk when they’re drinking. They got into a slight argument at the team dinner, then Hee-jae sought out Geum-ja at that food place where her friend told her that he got fired, and then they were drinking at the end when Geum-ja was in her office after her dad left. Only when they’ve drunk do they ever even acknowledge what happened between them.

- After working together on their last case, I do think that Hee-jae has started to respect Geum-ja more as a person, and even though they did have a spat at the team dinner, he understands that Geum-ja is really upset. At the very least, Hee-jae sees Geum-ja as a peer who is in need. And Geum-ja reacted to his attention, telling him a bit about how she was feeling when she was talking to her dad. I think Hee-jae appreciated Geum-ja opening up at least a little. Geum-ja drew a line insisting that they weren’t going to start dating again, but accepted Hee-jae’s offer (?) and they probably had adult relations in that office (yuck, think of the cleaners). But in any case, their relationship has taken a step in a new direction. Now they are no longer just rivals. They also share a sort of intimacy that they wouldn’t share with anyone else. Geum-ja has probably never shared how she felt with anyone. Her childhood friend the informant already knew what was going on, and Geum-ja is professional enough that she wouldn’t share this information with Ji-eun either. And as for Hee-jae, I think he was taking a risk. I think earlier in the show Hee-jae said he’d never been in love, so like, him trying to cheer Geum-ja up and being there for her is probably kind of new for him too, and I feel like he’s probably pleased that Geum-ja was receptive to his offer of just being a comfort to her.

- I don’t think that the two of them will become awkward after this. I think they both knew what they were doing when Hee-jae offered to be a shoulder to lean on and Geum-ja accepted. Geum-ja said to forget what they were going to do. I don’t think they will, but I also don’t think it’d interfere with their work. Instead, I think that Geum-ja and Hee-jae will be...sort of more attentive to each other, now that they’ve seen each other in a different light, if that makes sense.

- When Yu-mi and Gi-hyeok were on their date, Yu-mi said how she was trying to change her memories. She’d visited that locale with her ex-husband, but now she was going to make new memories there by going on a date with Gi-hyeok. As for Geum-ja, she is still haunted by her old memories of her father. I brought this up because Geum-ja specifically said that the memories hadn’t escaped her, because even though her dad looked and behaved differently, her instinctive reaction toward him was to recoil. So we’ll see if/how she rewrites her memories towards him.

- So this was an episode that focused more on Geum-ja. We got a lot of questions answered, which is neat, and we’re introduced to her dad, who might be the only challenge in her life that she worries about. Literally nothing else in her life has ever worried her besides this guy.

[kitkatopinions]

While thinking about the flaws of the main four protagonists in RWBY, I realized something. You can pretty clearly trace the flaws of three of the four main characters back to their early roots, whether or not the show addresses them as flaws currently. But with Blake, you can’t really do that.

TL;DR at the bottom

Ruby started the show being over-confident and reckless. She was a combat school student with only two years of learning under her belt when she took on Torchwick (although she may not have known who he was.) She easily assumes her team can handle Torchwick and the White Fang, wanders off alone in Mountain Glenn, charges after Torchwick again in the Fall of Beacon, travels to Haven to fight against Cinder without understanding any of the particulars and seemingly with no plan, and unnecessarily leads her team into stealing an Atlas plane while literally telling Qrow that she doesn’t care what he thinks and basically tells him to go along with it or leave. Any of those events could’ve resulted in her death, and it was often - not always, but often - due to outside forces that she survived (Glynda rescuing her, Oobleck realizing about the underground city, tons of fellow Beacon students + Atlas military taking out Grimm after the train crash, a Grimm eating Torchwick, Qrow taking out Grimm on the path to Haven, Qrow saving them from Tyrian, Cordovin aiding them after their unnecessary actions result in a massive Grimm attack.) So when she refuses to accept a no-win situation, traps a city in the direct line of Salem’s fire, sends out a message to everyone that might cause mass panic directly condemning Ironwood for trying to save as many as he can, and then doesn’t have a plan to actually save anyone in Mantle or Atlas, it’s very frustrating, but it’s not surprising or hugely out of character. It’s easy to track this. Ruby’s over-confidence, recklessness, and stubbornness started small and with her only striving to be a hero whether she was ready or not. And left unchecked, it just continued to grow. Weiss started the show being judgmental, rude, and prone to pettiness. Although she seemed to open up quickly to her team and these flaws seemed to die down considerably in volumes 4-5, it’s not exactly out of left field for her to act the way she does towards Whitley in volumes 7 and 8. In V1 Weiss judged Ruby as a child who didn’t know what she was talking about that had taken something from Weiss (the leader role,) and therefore Weiss acted like Ruby was a nuisance and treated her coldly and aggressively. She was hugely judgmental towards Sun, and Blake as well the minute she learned Blake was a Faunus and a former White Fang member, and even after she decided Blake was fine anyway (so badly handled) she made it clear that she wasn’t accepting Sun just yet. Despite any growth she might’ve had with her team, we never see her change outside of that. It becomes clear it’s still a problem, when Weiss is confronted by her considerably younger brother in volumes 7 and 8. Weiss judged him as a child who didn’t know what he was talking about that had taken something from her (her position as CEO of the company) and therefore, Weiss acted like he was a nuisance and treated him coldly and aggressively. Weiss showed no sympathy to him despite knowing his home life. It’s easy to track this. Her pettiness, judgmental tendencies, and aggressiveness never went away, they just stopped being directed at Ruby, Jaune, or the rest of her friends. Yang’s flaws are always easily tracked. She’s got a big temper, charges into things without thinking, and she’s pushy. We see this from the start as she pushes Ruby to make friends despite her clear discomfort and explodes at Grimm for damaging her hair. This continues on pretty clearly in the first couple of seasons, including Yang refusing to give Blake space, and yelling at her with red eyes and pushing her when she wasn’t listening. The funny thing about Yang is that most of this gets addressed and started getting worked through. Yang charging into battle and over-relying on her semblance are combat driven problems that are pointed out to her by her father and worked on to overcome. Yang is much calmer and patient than she had to be with Raven, continues to be patient and understanding with Qrow and Oz when she finds out they’ve been keeping things from the group in volume five, she listens to and accepts Weiss’s advice, and doesn’t lash out at Blake at all when she returns. Although she was still clearly the same person, she was also clearly working on her flaws and trying to be better. However, this seems to backslide in the latest three seasons, with her acting aggressive and not even trying to understand Oz, acting aggressive and not even trying to understand the Ace Ops, pushing Ren to talk about his feelings and then getting angry at him for expressing ones she doesn’t think he should feel, launching into battle without thinking repeatedly and seeming to not really take the situation seriously sometimes. This is frustrating to me, but it’s easy to track, too. Yang was working on her flaws, but has recently backslid into old habits.

But Blake? Blake’s early flaws were things like taking too much responsibility on her shoulders, being unable to let things go, running from her trauma, and lashing out at her friends. Many of her stronger traits were connected to her flaws, and were things like standing up for herself and others, having a strong moral code, and being responsible. (NOTE: Her arc and the allegories to real world racism were absolutely mishandled, making things like her strong moral code - like ‘stealing is always wrong’ - problematic in context. However, for the sake of this argument, I’m referring to her strong moral code as a strong trait as in it was something distinct about her character that we were meant to see as a good trait.) Blake had firm standards, like ‘stealing is wrong,’ and ‘I can’t wait for others to handle things for me, I have to handle it myself.’ During the course of seasons 4 and 5, her character arc was centered around learning to embrace her strong traits without falling into her bad ones. Like Yang, many of her flaws were directly addressed during these seasons, Sun and her parents helping her see that she can rely on and trust others, Blake expressing herself without lashing out, Blake confronting her past head-on in the forms of Adam and Ilia rather than running from it, and finally letting go of much of her own guilt and self-deprecation at the same time. The funny thing about Blake now is that she’s still showing flaws, they just aren’t the flaws she used to have that all pretty much got tied up in a bow, pun unintended. Instead, many of the flaws Blake seems to be showing now are in direct contrast to her former strong traits. She doesn’t stand up for herself, leaving it to Weiss or Yang to speak up for her. She doesn’t take responsibility, putting it on Ruby’s shoulder and begging her to help her in fights. She doesn’t have the extreme moral code, being one hundred percent fine with stealing, beating up law enforcement officers, fighting against the government, etc. Like, not to say that those things are always bad, just that Blake thought they were always bad, not that long ago. This is why, out of all the main characters, Blake is the most upsetting to me. I can hate what Ruby, Yang, or Weiss do, but Blake doesn’t even feel like the same character anymore. Adding onto that, she doesn’t seem like a powerful or interesting fighter anymore either when she used to be very good and very interesting to watch. This makes her just... Feel like a chess piece that CRWBY has say things every now and again to sound good. She feels like another weapon that Yang can just use sometimes. It’s honestly hard to see, because Blake could’ve been a really great character, and now she doesn’t feel like a character at all.

TL;DR It’s easy to track the flaws of Ruby, Yang, and Weiss all throughout the show, but Blake’s recently displayed flaws directly go against her early characteristics. This makes it feel like her whole character is different.

[iustine]

A sense of familiarity

Hello 😊I decided to try my luck with writing a fic for Speaker. I had a lot of fun with it and I hope you will enjoy reading about my Speaker Nev and Liam lovingly making fun of each other 😄

A sense of familiarity

The day after their victory was a bleak one. Despite it still being a mid – afternoon the gloomy mood extended over the library in the Delaney household. Open curtains and lit wall sconces unable to fully dispel the dim.

In the far end of the room; leaning against the wall, a young woman was sitting comfortably. Just beside her stood a massive cabinet filled with books and old trinkets, which almost impeccably hid her figure.

Completely at odds with the atmosphere around, her expression held a vibrant smile as she sketched vigorously. She was so concentrated on her work that she didn’t notice a figure moving in her direction.

At least she didn’t notice it until a hand landed on her shoulder.

„Eep” Unexpected touch making Guinevere jump in surprise; her hand reaching up to hold on to her throat as she squealed. This frantic movement almost resulted in an ugly bruise at the back of her head, as she just barely avoided hitting the wall.

The newcomer proved to be Liam, after startling her he backed away to lean casually against the cabinet. Thick black - framed glasses doing nothing to hide hints of humour dancing in his dark eyes.

No doubt on account of her not so graceful moment.

„Geez, Li! Shouldn’t you finally grow out of sneaking up on me?” She pouted playfully, before releasing a quick bark of laughter and standing up; corners of his lips turning upwards at her comment.

„Nah, I like to keep you on your toes.” His words tinged with humour as he shrugged. „Seems like it doesn’t work in your case though.” He added sending her a smirk, which oddly only brightened her appearance.

In a retrospect he truly should’ve expected what would happen but a moment later.

With a beaming smile and sparkling eyes firmly focused on her friend Nev stepped closer catching Li in a quick hug. Yet, just before coming out of his zone she didn’t fail to swiftly poke him in the middle. Repeatedly. Her precision being just as deadly as in the past.

Immediately he took another step away from her. She couldn’t help but snigger when noticed how he instinctively hunched bracing himself. Not omitting to send her a truly ugly glare. Unfortunately for him, it was completely wasted on Nev and the woman doubled over as her cheerful giggle swept throughout the room.

Some things never change.

While she tried not to choke on laughter in the corner of her eye she noticed as Liam sighed in exasperation. Despite it, he couldn’t maintain this annoyed appearance for long, and a not-quite-fond-but-similar smile forced itself on his face.

„I would prefer it if we broke that habit of yours. There’s only so many heart attacks I can withstand.” She teased wiping away a stray tear. „And so can you it seems.” The words almost bringing back surge of laughter. „Maybe, for both of our sakes, you should rethink my old offer of braiding bells into your hair.

„I can’t believe you still remember it.” He shook his head.

„I remember everything.” She barely managed to quell these words just before they could slip past her mouth. „It’s the most effective safety measure.” She said instead, spreading her hands; an innocent smile gracing her lips. From his barely concealed grin she knew it was a good choice.

„No way.” He elbowed her playfully, carefully keeping just enough distance to stay out of her reach. She couldn’t quite bring it in herself to feel sorry for his hypersensitivity.

He deserved some tickle scare after scarring her for life with his coffee.

„Bold of you to assume I need your agreement.” She leaned backwards with crossed arms as her face lit up with an impish glee.

„I called your name 2 times before coming over here. I doubt bells would have any effect”. Liam pointed out smirking playfully.

„Well… there is a saying that you might’ve heard before” She rolled her eyes, not even trying to hide a smile. „Third time’s a charm.” Shaking her head in amusement Nev looked around locating her scattered drawing utensils.

Closed sketchbook forgotten for a moment in favour of a pencil that rolled away, almost ending beneath the cabinet. She only hoped it didn’t fracture from the fall. There is nothing as irritating as a pencil lead breaking in the middle of making a clean sketch.

„I knocked, you know. On the cabinet here, right before you” He shrugged, spreading his hands; joking smirk placed firmly at his face.

Soft chuckle escaped her lips before she could stop it. „Come on, there is no way I wouldn’t hear that. Stop exaggerating.” She responded lightly pushing his arm, before placing an empty hand on her hip. „Being more perceptive than me is no achievement, remember?”

„You didn’t even stir.” He deadpanned.

Nev couldn’t help but flick her gaze to the treacherous cabinet, shock evident on her face. Liam for his part didn’t even try to hide chuckle at her dumbfounded expression.

When she stared at him in mock indignation it only reinforced, turning into a genuine laugh. The sound, equally as mirthful as unexpected vibrating in the quiet room. At the unusual sight from her soft spoken friend Nev felt a wave of warmth spreading in her chest.

Familiarity of this banter once again making her realise just how much she missed it. Missed him. Without any frantic research, without race against the time, she could fully appreciate their renewed friendship and easy camaraderie it brought.

„Have you thought that maybe, just maybe, it was you who wasn’t interesting enough to catch my attention” Nev looked up staring straight into his eyes. Teasing smile lighting up her face as she saw mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Although her amusement was short lived as a wicked grin appeared on Liam’s face. All at once it occurred to her just how Li would choose to interpret her words.

Clearly delighting in her atypical shyness, that unfortunately tended to resurface more and more nowadays, he took a step closer and leaned forward.

„Then how do you intend to make this encounter more interesting? Or maybe you would prefer to hear my suggestions?” Voice soft, words almost purred in her ear as his eyes glinted, daring her to respond.

„Oh…Um…” This proved to be way harder than it should, as his sudden proximity made forming cohesive sentences impossible. Her breath hitched, face feeling much warmer than a second ago. As deep green hair brushed her cheek a wave of electricity moved throughout, straightening her spine.

Locked in this newfound intensity she found herself unable to look away from these fathomless eyes.

Spell holding both of them abruptly broke as a pencil slipped from Nev’s grasp landing on the hardwood. The sound, unusually loud in a quiet room woke them from a daze. With her face flaming Nev looked away feeling enormously grateful they still haven’t put the carpets back in place.

„Great, if they weren’t fractured before then now they definitely are.” She mumbled, crouching in a quick motion, hoping to hide her flushed state. A few seconds later Liam joined her on the floor. She desperately avoided looking at her companion, while trying to stall her racing heart.

„I give it 2 out of 10.” His words not quite sinking in, she glanced at him as if it wasn’t a pencil that had fallen, but he did. Straight into his head.

„Your hideout.” He responded to her bewildered stare, gracefully ignoring further implications of her questioning look. „And I am being generous, literally anyone walking in would see you.” Which wasn’t technically true; despite it his lack of comment on her shaken appearance almost made Nev sigh in relief.

This feeling quickly evaporated as she noticed what he was about to pick up.

Instantly it made her forget about any pencils or even her own bashfulness. She rapidly reached out towards the sketchbook grabbing it first. With a tight hold over it she turned towards her companion glowering.

„Still with that angry hedgehog look, huh?” Completely unperturbed he sent her a lazy smirk, nonetheless he still yielded the book without any objections; even coming as far as to raise hands up in a peace offering. Whenever the action meant actual remorse or was done only to indulge her would remain known only to Liam himself.

But she would bet all her money on the latter one.

„Remember our rule?” She bristled.

„No peeking.” He answered easily, rolling his eyes.

„Good.” She said, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. „If you didn’t I wouldn’t either”. She proclaimed vaguely, trying to sound intimidating. Consequences unspoken, but clear to the both of them.

Maybe only to the both of them.

„You wouldn’t find it” He scoffed.

„Aha. Got ya, so you are still writing.” She thought triumphantly, her expression must have mirrored it, as Liam recoiled. The sight making her giddy, proving she still could render her friend speechless.

„Try me.” She added challengingly crossing her arms, the knowledge boosting her with newfound confidence.

„Yes, and I am to believe you could find it?” He asked doubtfully.

„I can do everything if I focus on it hard enough.” She shrugged, a sly grin firmly placed on her face. If she was able to find people all around states following vague visions, then she had a fair chance of finding a book in a witch’s house.

For a moment she wondered if he would try grabbing her sketchbook away in a pure obnoxiousness. His thoughts must have followed a similar track, as black eyes flickered towards the book. Instinctively her hold strengthened.

Hush descended upon them as they stared at each other. Several moments passed in silence, before they wordlessy called for a truce.

With a wide grin Nev hopped on the couch, patting the place on the other side as she noticed Liam perching on it’s edge.

Ready to voice a convincing argument she wondered whenever he would sit beside her.

He did.

„So, what’s up? Is everything ok? Or did you just get used to coming over everyday?” She teased with a bright smile. „We still haven’t put out that coffee feeder.” Her smile turned a little bit more playful.

He rolled his eyes so quickly she briefly worried they would get stuck that way. „I thought you said I was welcome to borrow the quiet, but if that’s not-” he started, slowly getting up.

„What?, No! I mean; Yes! I mean-…” She stood up frantically, almost knocking the cushion off the sofa. When Liam’s shit eating grin came into her view she dropped heavily, releasing a sigh; face hidden in her hands. „You are incorrigible” She huffed trying to ignore his wide grin. „Just sit your butt down”

��How can I refuse such a charming request” He smirked, eyes gleaming in amusement.

„You know, I was contemplating showing you some of the finished sketches.” She clicked her tongue. „But I am starting to think you have enough fun as it is.”

„With you things could never be boring, that’s certain.”

„Hello the kettle. Meet the pot.” She jested vividly gesticulating with her hands. „You are just as much trouble as me.”

„Maybe, but I’m not quite as proficient at causing problems. It’s not like my notebook used to be confiscated every other day.” His expression was entirely unrepentant; clearly showing he never opposed this sentiment.

„What can I say. They had it out for me. And you never pulled out yours during class” She grinned waving her hand. „Anyway, don’t even try to pretend you didn’t love every second of getting it back.” Nev added nudging him lightly with her shoulder.

 „I never denied that.” Nudging her back, he flashed her a wicked grin. „She almost flipped when we got it before her next lesson.”

Without any need of further clarification she instantly knew who Liam was referring to.

„Poor Mrs. Roberts” She laughed heartily tilting her head back. „Hadn’t she took a week off right after that?”

„To recuperate her health.”

Mrs. Roberts was a substitute teacher that came to their class confident of handling even the worst „hooligans”. The woman could be summed as five feet of pure evil.

Unfortunately for her she hadn’t quite met them before. Although, giving respect where it’s due, she lasted far more than either of them predicted. Resigning only several months prior to the end of school - year.

It should suffice to say that she educated half of their faculty staff before her pension and most of these teachers cheered on their antics.

„You know, I actually drew her not long ago.” She chuckled softly, searching for the correct page in her sketchbook. She might have disliked the woman, but she never had as much fun as the day they got her to resign. The memory widening her smirk.

„What was the occasion?” He looked over the picture of an older woman; Soft facial features doing nothing to quell her severe glare. The sight only widening his impish grin; it was the only confirmation Nev needed to know he was recalling exactly the same memory as her.

„Me and Gwen were cleaning the library and an old photo book flew out.” She pointed towards the furthest bookshelf.

„So that’s why it’s so cluttered in here.” He deadpanned smirking at her.

„Oh, hush you.”

„You got really good.” He said softly. Sarcasm from a moment before replaced with sincerity as he examined the pencil sketch.

„Thanks.” She tucked several strands of hair behind her ear, flushing slightly. „These past years I haven’t had too many opportunities to practice.”

„But hey, look here. This one should feel even more familiar.” She added uncovering the next picture with an affectionate expression.

The drawing in question showed three kids, aged anywhere between 9 or 11 years. A young girl in the middle had her arms wrapped around her friends pulling them towards her for a photo. Her almost identical sister smiled joyously as she leaned into her. The only boy at the scene half-hugged the girl between them, his expression soft, but holding a playful edge.

The sketch emanated warmth; it was clear to see for anyone that the author cared a great deal for the pictured people.

„I think it’s my favourite.” Nev exclaimed, brushing her hand against the paper; the sight made her nostalgic. „I drew it with the help of the original photo.” She added evading looking at her companion.

As seconds passed with no answer she dared a look at Liam, who still gazed on the picture. Softly, warmly, some tender emotion moved throughout his eyes. It disappeared in a flash before she could even try to decipher it.

Sensing her glance upon him, with unusual trouble he tore off his eyes from the picture.

„It looks nice.” He ended somehow stiffly. She waited a second longer, her mouth open as she curiously looked him over. She was almost sure he would say something more. But yet his lips remained closed as he looked at her almost like if not seeing her.

If Guinevere has ever seen a good moment for a subject change then it was definitely one of them. Fortunately on her lap was a book with a fair amount of topic starters.

Without even thinking she uncovered the next page. It held a picture of a young woman sitting on a stump in the middle of a forest. Her eyes closed, a contented smile on her face. A small camera hung around her neck.

„It’s a reminder of one of our forest outings. I haven’t seen Gwen this relaxed in months and my hand slipped” She giggled looking over the sketch of her twin.

„You are dressed similarly” He observed glancing over her outfit, before returning his gaze to the sketch. Internally Nev breathed a sigh of relief sensing her friend returned to his normal self.

„We still have a bunch of identical clothes. It was especially funny in high school, once we pretended to be each other for a month straight. No one recognised us.” She released a soft chuckle.

„Have any more teachers resigned because of you?”

„Now, how can you say it?” She asked assuming model appearance of an offended innocence. „We wouldn’t have left you out from something like that.” Grin on her face almost faeish as she winked at him.

Judging by his smirk, he was just about to respond to her words, before something else caught his attention. „And what about this one” He pointed to the see-through sketch on the next page. It standed out with it’s quality, a little more rough than previous ones.

„That’s Clarkia” All her amusement evaporated in a second. „A pixie me and Gwen saved some time ago.” Her hands moved, rubbing her temple as if trying to stall an upcoming headache.

He shook his head smirking, eyes sparkling with mischief „Why the addictions?” Words leaving his lips laced with humour as he nodded towards the picture.

And „Why the addictions?” indeed. The sketch showed a small humanoid creature dressed in a frivolous outfit and holding his fist upwards in a theatrical pose. Paper around him full of small hearts and flowers. Rainbow and unicorn depicted in the background.

„Ask Gwen. She was the one who drew it.” She closed eyes, still rubbing her forehead. Action itself much more similar to a skull trepanation instead of a massage. She wondered whenever the page would disappear if she dared it hard enough. Unfortunately no such luck was in store for her. „I didn’t have the heart to tear it out.”

Soft hum her only answer as hints of humor still danced in her friend’s eyes.

As Nev was about to turn to another page she heard a subdued buzz. It’s source proved to be insistent spam of messages on Liam’s phone. After glancing at her apologetically he picked it up to check over them.

„It’s Nellie. I should better get going, before she sends somebody my way” He responded to Nev’s questioning look, before getting up with a regret.

„Maybe if we wait long enough she will come here herself, I doubt Gwen would mind” Nev added smirking knowingly, the action prompting Liam to smirk back in a shared amusement on account of their sisters. On the contrary to her words she still sighed regretfully and followed her companion up.

She doubted Nellie would call out Li if she didn’t need him for something important. Lately the woman was oddly determined to keep the two of them together as often as possible

Nev prefered not to think about her possible reasons for that.

„You should come more often. It was fun to spend some time together.” She remarked giving him a crooked grin. „And so you know.” She leaned conspiratorially, half - covering her mouth „I don’t really go around showing my sketches to everyone. You should feel honored.”

„Then I am really lucky.” He smiled, despite it’s teasing edge Nev could clearly see it’s rare, unhidden gentleness. The sight almost taking her breath away.

„Good that you know it.” She clapped her hands cheerfully gesturing forward, as the two of them fell into step together.

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„Hey, Li.” Nev started as they stalled by the front door. „I am really happy you came.” She added fiddling with her dress. „Don’t be a stranger, all right?”

„You should visit too.” He murmured „The others will be happy, Angus as well.”

„She would better be.” She laughed. „I said it before and I will repeat it; Now I am your problem.”

„I don’t remember signing up for that.”

„No take backs.”

„Bu-”

„NO take backs.” She cut him off with the widest grin, barely keeping laugh at bay.

Liam shook his head with a genuine smile. For once not even trying to mask it.

As he was reaching to open the door she made a step forward and pulled him into a tight hug. „I really missed you, you know.” For a moment she thought she heard a soft hitch of breath, but it could only be her imagination. As his hands engulfed her back; at first softly, a second later with firmness equal to hers; she had a feeling that no matter what life throws at them; they will preserve and forge their own fortune.

Distracted none of them heard a faint buzz by the stairs.

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If you are still here then maybe some of my addictional notes may interest you 😊  

- Nev was definitely drawing Liam with the goofiest, most cheerful smile she had on her face in weeks (though she next she will draw the rest of their friends so it isn’t really a surprise)

- One would have to pry from my dead cold hands headcanon that Liam stood there for like 5 minutes watching beaming Nev draw.

- I don’t believe that Nev would actually find Liam’s heavily warded notebook, but I love the thought that he actually hesitated, because of his faith in her (she is some kind of a miracle - maker)

- The buzz by the stairs is Gwen, she is definitely trying to take a photo 😉  

That’s it, I hope you enjoyed yourself 😊

And if you still haven’t seen Speaker by @speakergame then I cannot recommend checking it enough 😊

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 20

Dinner

Summary: Riley spends the day with her friends at Ramsford, and after Liam returns from the funeral, they enjoy a meal together

Word Count: ~5.7k

A/N: flashbacks are in ~italics~

Warnings: mention of character death

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here

A/N 2: forgive me for the last post. I clicked “post” from my phone and it literally only posted the title lol

Tags:  @captain-kingliamsqueen​​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​​ @gkittylove99​​ @lovablegranny​​ @loudbluebirdlover @mom2000aggie​​ @kingliam2019​​ @queenrileyrose​​ @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty​​ @hopefulmoonobject​​ @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake​​ @queenjilian​​ @kuladekiwi​​ @twinkle-320​​ @iaminlovewithtrr​​ @charlotteg234​​ @amandablink​​ @texaskitten30​​ @tinkie1973 @louiseingram1208 @queencatherynerhys​​ @pens-girl-87​​ @missevabean​​ @ladyangel70​​ @sanchita012​​ @cordonianprincess​​ @liamandneca @cordonia-gothqueen​​ @pink-diamond13​​​

I’m sorry, the tags are being weird and I don’t know if they’re working or not… but I hope I got everyone down! If I missed someone, or anyone wants to be added/removed, let me know :)

I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing, and please excuse any grammatical errors :))

Also just wanted to say thank you for all the likes, reblogs, and comments<3

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Riley - 

After the kids and Liam left to attend Regina’s funeral, I introduced Hana to Rowan, and we spent the day talking about their personal lives. I was grateful that neither of them brought up any questions about Theo or my life with him, but throughout the day my mind wandered back to my dead husband.

I missed him, and as much as I wanted to hate that fact... I didn’t. I had to peel myself away from wondering about the details of what happened to him when the bomb went off. Was it a slow death or a quick one? Was he thinking about the kids? Was he trapped? Did he see the guards run through the exhibit as I did?

Being back in Cordonia was beyond surreal. I had dreamed about coming back for years, and the topic was something Theo and I used to argue about a lot. Thinking back to those arguments makes me realize how futile they were: here I am now, no thanks to Theo, and there was no fighting involved in bringing me here.

I jump back to reality after silence spends around me. Hana and Rowan were having a conversation, but they stopped talking and were looking at me inquisitively, a shy smile on Rowan’s face.

“So do you think I should say no?” she asks, looking between Hana and I.

“The court can be a cruel place sometimes,” Hana tells her. “But I can give you some tips to make it easier.”

“Sorry, what were you talking about?” I say. “I zoned out.”

“Um, so,” Rowan begins. “Maxwell asked if I would like to join the court for the Social Season.”

“What?” I make a face. “Really?”

Rowan blushes and looks down. “Yeah, um...”

Hana and I lean forward, waiting for her to continue.

She sighs and her shoulders slump. “I thought he asked me because he wanted to spend more time with me, but I think he’s just concerned about Gabriel and Eleanor having like a support system, y’know?”

“I mean, Gabe and Ella should be fine,” I state. “Liam said he’d look out for them, and I’ll be there, too.”

She looks up at me and tilts her head. “You know that’s what I thought... but then I felt like he might’ve said that because he wanted to spend time with me? Nevermind, that’s dumb.”

“I haven’t seen you two together for long,” Hana jumps in. “But you both seemed quite friendly with one another yesterday evening.”

Rowan laughs to herself. “Yeah, he was showing me a video of a dancing corgi. I thought it was cute and then he started sending me all these dog memes.”

“That’s definitely Maxwell. And if you want, you can join the court for the Social Season.” I reach out to touch her knee. “I know I’ve probably scared you away from it, but your Social Season should be nothing like mine.”

“You’re right,” she answers. “Different circumstances.”

For a moment I wondered why she was so concerned about Maxwell’s reasons behind inviting her to join court, but Savannah interrupts us and says that lunch is ready.

With Hana and Rowan’s help, I managed to hop down the stairs and towards the dining room. Once there, I notice Bertrand sitting at the head of the table, Bartie, Olivia, Maxwell, and Drake sitting next to a woman I didn’t know.

I maintain my balance against a chair and watch her walk up to me. She’s almost as tall as Drake, and her kinky hair is neatly pulled back. “Pleasure to meet you,” she says. “I’m Jessica.”

“Riley,” I say, shaking her hand.

We all take our seats and start our meal. Bertrand mentions that the press have noticed that House Beaumont and House Nevrakis are not in attendance for the Queen Mother’s funeral. Olivia comments, saying that if she could, she would make her disdain towards Regina even more apparent, all because of what she did to Liam.

I look down at my plate, feeling guilty. I was part of Liam’s continued pain — and Gabriel’s, for that matter. If I hadn’t left in the first place, none of us would be in such an awkward position.

The subject shifts towards the upcoming Social Season. Savannah tells us that she’s heard some of the other noble ladies say that there will be some international presence this year.

She continues the discussion with Bertrand and Hana, with a little input from Jessica. She had an accent, and her voice sounded like music; I was fine with staying quiet and listening to her talk. I notice that Drake’s shoulders are oddly tense, though his face is calm. He had told me a bit about his relationship with Jessica, but I wanted to know more.

“Jessica,” I jump into the conversation, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Have you ever gone through the Social Season before?”

She gives a lighthearted laugh and puts her hand on Drake’s arm, who doesn’t react. “Drake has always told me that he thinks I would not enjoy the Social Season.”

“Depends,” he says. “You’d like the fancy parties and ball gowns, but people in the court are two-faced.”

She clicks her tongue. “When has that ever made a difference in one’s life? It’s only negatively impactful if you allow it to be so.” She turns back to her food and continues, “But nevermind that, I’ve decided that I will join for the season this year.”

Drake’s head jerks in her direction, and then I notice him quickly glance towards me.

“Oh, this’ll be my first year, too!” Rowan states. “So both of us will be going through something new.”

“The court can be a delightful place when one has the right companions,” Hana tells them.  

For the rest of our meal, a pensive look remains on Drake’s face. After everyone leaves the dining room and I follow Hana and Rowan back to my room, I notice Jessica give Drake a quick kiss before she walks down the driveway and into a Jeep.

Drake walks off, and Maxwell trails behind him, claiming that he was excited to finally get to know his future sister-in-law.

After I reach the top of the stairs, Rowan leans in and says, “Hey, was it just me, or does Jessica look really familiar?”

I recall her face, and try to attach it to someone I may have known during my time in New York. “No,” I tell her.

She shrugs it off and leads me back into my room.

Rowan turns on the TV, and we watch “Game of Thrones” with Hana, whose eyes are glued to the screen. Eventually, Savannah joins us and once in a while Bertrand checks in on us.

He had the staff bring us snacks, and when we were a little more than half-way through the first season, Bertrand tells us that Liam and the kids are probably on their way back.

I throw my legs off the side of the bed and hop towards the bathroom. “I have to get ready for my dinner with Liam.” I tell them.

“You have dinner with His Majesty?” Bertrand exclaims, his eyes going wide.

I stop hopping. “Yeah, he asked me last night before the doctor got here.”

Bertrand looks me up and down and begins to shake his head. “Hurry! There is not nearly enough time to make you presentable! I will go down to the boutique and get you something that would be of King Liam’s preference.”

“I’m not going to be dressing up for his preference!” I try to hop after Bertrand, who is already on his way down the hall. “We’re just going to talk about everything with Gabriel and Eleanor!”

“Nevermind that, blossom!” Maxwell appears from the other end of the hall. “It never hurts to get glammed up!”

Hana pats my shoulder. “I’ll go with Bertrand and make sure he gets something of your style.”

I wanted to tell them to stop, that I had a nice dress in my suitcase, and that would be enough. But I recognize the look in their eyes; there was the same intensity whenever we got ready for an event together, but something was different. There was too much intensity. They not only wanted to do this, they needed it.

I relent, and Hana follows after Bertrand. I go back into the room and manage to take a quick shower.

When Maxwell knocks on the bathroom door, I take a robe and wobble out, coming face-to-face with a green floor-length gown. Hana and Maxwell observe me, waiting for a reaction.

“Isn’t that a little much for dinner?” I ask them.

“It is perfect,” Bertrand states. “Need I remind you, Lady Riley, that royal society strives to uphold sophistication and elegance in every event. This situation is no different, as His Majesty will be dining with you.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Bertrand, I know about all the sophistication and elegance. I’ve dined with royalty before, and have been rubbing elbows with New York’s elite. I’ve had my fair share of practice.”

“That does not mean—” he tries to continue, but Savannah puts her hand on his arm.

“Bertrand, let Riley get changed in peace. Let’s go check if everything is set for her and Liam.”

He turns back and hesitates, but then follows his wife out the room. Another pang of guilt vibrates through me. I imagine that Bertrand’s hard exterior didn’t make it easy for him to get through to Savannah and eventually propose. I wished that I had been there to make everything go through more smoothly... or at least have attended their wedding.

I wobble back into the bathroom with the dress. I lean against the wall and eventually get the dress on. I make some small adjustments, making sure I had put it on correctly, when I hear Hana call out:

“Is it comfortable? Sorry if it is too tight or loose, I gave you the same size that you used to wear during the Engagement Tour.”

“It fits like a glove, Hana!” I call back to her. I look at myself in the mirror, and if not for the faint lines on my forehead and the tired bags under my eyes, I could imagine that I was about to exit into my first Beaumont Bash.

I blink away the memories and stumble out of the bathroom. I don’t pay attention to finding matching shoes, but Rowan helps me tie my hair back into a fashionable braid. While she does that, I put on some makeup, and the time passes by so quickly that I’m shocked when Ella runs into the room screaming, “Hi, Mama!”

She hugs my waist and I draw her in. “You look pretty,” she tells me. I check the door to see if Gabriel followed her, but he isn’t there. Hana, Rowan, and Maxwell send smiles my way, and then leave the room.

I turn my attention back to Ella. “Did you have fun?” I ask her.

“Yeah, we got donuts on the way back!”

“That’s nice.”

She takes a seat at the edge of the bed and watches me finish getting ready. I can see her through the mirror in front of me, and I sometimes give little poses that make her erupt into giggles.

“You look... stunning,” a voice says, taking me by surprise. I jump out of my seat. Even though my leg didn’t hurt anymore, I couldn’t balance on it. Liam rushes forward to help me, grabbing my elbow and then my waist.

His outfit wasn’t as formal as it was when he left this morning, but he still looks every bit regal. I wonder how he changed so quickly. I look up at him, putting my hands on his shoulders to balance myself better. His eyes rake over my body, causing a warm feeling to radiate through me.

It’s the first day of school. Even though Gabe had gone through this twice already, his separation anxiety always surfaced when we were about to leave. He left his backpack upstairs and tried to use it as an excuse as to why he couldn’t go. After I rushed into his room and got it for him, Theo asks me if I saw Ella’s backpack anywhere. She looks at me, her rosy cheeks clear compared to Gabe’s tear-stained ones, and tells me that she didn’t think she would need it.

I give Gabe his bag and rush back upstairs to get Ella’s. When I come back down, I trip and begin to fall forwards. Theo’s already there. He grabs my forearms and I stumble into his embrace. Our noses touch for half a second. Theo’s eyes sparkle with a look I don’t appreciate. He chuckles and leans in for a kiss. He tastes like pancake syrup. “I love you,” he tells me, loud enough for the kids to hear.

“Time to go,” I say, and pry myself away from him. I look down at the kids, and find Gabe clutching my shirt.

He’s crying again, saying, “No, mommy, no.” He hiccups nonstop. I lean down to kiss his cheek, and my son’s blue eyes look sadly desperate.

I tell him, “It’s okay, baby, it’s going to be alright.”

In the car, I tell Gabe that the end of the day would show up and he wouldn’t even realize it. Theo is occupied with Ella. She tells him how excited she is for the first day of kindergarten, and most of her words come out in a mumbled blur, but Theo gives her his full attention.

Theo’s hand is on my knee, lightly rubbing it with his thumb. After I give Gabe and Ella another kiss and let them leave for school, I ask him to remove it.

His face stiffens, changing from the soft look he had when he was wishing the kids goodbye.

“I’m doing it for them, okay?” He tells me. “It’s important that they see we don’t hate each other.”

I want to ask him when we have ever done anything to make them think that, but then he gets a phone call and ignores me for the rest of the ride home.

“Are you alright?” Liam’s voice brings me back to reality.

“Yeah, sorry,” I tell him. Turning away from him, I blush when I notice that Ella is still in the room and Gabe is at the door.

I pretend to look for something in my makeup bag. Gabe and Ella giggle behind me, and I hear Liam’s thick chuckle as well. I wonder what they were laughing about, so I turn to look at them.

Liam’s face is fixated on Ella, who stares at Gabe, who clutches his stomach.

“So,” I break their moment of laughter, grabbing Liam’s attention.

He clears his throat, but the playful smile remains. “If you are ready, there is a smaller dining room on this floor. I requested the Duke have it prepared instead of the one downstairs, seeing as though you still have some time before your leg fully heals.”

“Oh. You didn’t have to do that.”

He puts up his hand. “Please, it was nothing.” Liam goes to grab my crutches, and I suddenly feel graceless when I try to move with the gown pooled around me.

Ella tells me, “See you later, Mama-gator!”

I turn back to them, wondering if the donuts Liam bought them were all they ate. “Are you two going to go eat dinner?”

“Maxwell said he would walk us through more courtly etiquette before we eat,” Gabe says. They walk away, and I turn back to Liam.

I notice how he looks at the children as they walk in the opposite direction. My heart swells, and I genuinely hope everything would be smooth sailing from here on out.

We reach a set of ordinate doors that I had never seen before. Two servants open them, and we enter the room.

There’s a small table, probably big enough for four people, but there were only two chairs. A candle and rose sit in the middle of the table, and I remember the roses he sent to me the day we were in Fydelia.

Taking a look around the room, I see that there are candles everywhere: on the floors and window sills and on smaller tables near serving trays.

Glancing at Liam, I notice that he’s been scanning my face the entire time. Sure I was impressed — flattered even — but I didn’t think he should have done all this for a simple dinner.

He leads me to one of the chairs, and pushes it in as I take a seat. Servants take away my crutches.

Liam sits calmly, though he continues to glance around the room as if he was checking that everything was in order.

After a few moments, servants put plates and trays in front of us.

“I didn’t know what you would like,” Liam tells me. “So I had them prepare a variety.”

There is soup, chicken, small tarts, cut up sandwiches, and spaghetti!

I laugh a little when I notice it, and he chuckles, too.

“I thought it would be a nice way to remember how well our first date went.”

We smile at each other awkwardly before serving ourselves. I expected him to start up the conversation, but we continue eating in silence.

Theo mostly conducted business through dinner or lunch and would go by himself. Today, he asked me to tag along, since the person he was meeting would be bringing someone as well.

We don’t talk on the drive over. That’s mostly how it is between us. We manage to keep up the façade in front of the children, friends, and family, but when we’re alone together we remain civil, and only civil.

But the amount of time we spent alone was increasing. Sure sometimes we would argue, but most of the time we acted like close friends. If someone saw us behave like that, they could easily figure out that we had a child together.

Inside the restaurant, two men are already waiting for Theo. We take a seat and order. I remain silent for the most of the meal, but I feel the other men glancing at me.

Theo discusses the benefits of them investing in his and Boris’ company, but the men are difficult to persuade. They almost stand up and leave, but Theo doesn’t lose his cool and gets them to stay.

My husband finishes his little speech, and the men start chuckling behind their wine glasses. They glance at me again, and answer Theo in Russian, which makes his cheeks go red with embarrassment. He loses his calm and curses at them, and they curse back with harsher words.

One of them throws his handkerchief at Theo and they leave the restaurant.

Even though Theo and Boris’ company was doing well — and I honestly thought that they didn’t need this new investor — I knew that it must have felt terrible to get rejected like that.

I put my hand on his shoulder. He takes it and kisses it. We leave the restaurant hand-in-hand. When we get into the car, he leans over and kisses my cheek. I wonder why he did that, since the kids aren’t here.

After the driver passes by our penthouse, I ask him where we’re going. He doesn’t answer me, but smirks. Eventually the car stops and leads me out and into a lavish rooftop restaurant. He tells me that he’s thankful to have me by his side. I sit quietly and watch him talk, looking out into the city around me, taking in the words of this man who I promised myself not to love.

Liam still hasn’t talked, and I begin to get more nervous. Remembering Theodore and our “fake-love” situation, I decide to speak up.

“I think we should set some boundaries,” I tell him.

He chews pensively. “What do you mean?”

“About Gabriel, and what’s going to happen since he’s the heir... and our son.”

Liam looks back down at his plate. “Yes, I believe that is the reason for this dinner.” He sends me a playful smile, but I keep my face straight.

“I know there’s a lot of... gray space between us, considering our relationship and everything.” I glance up to see him staring at me. I expected him to look upset. Remembering fact that he’s been trained since childhood to hide his emotions makes me feel worse.

I do my best to continue, “But I feel like I’ve been neglecting Gabe and Ella these past few days. Even when I didn’t have my memory, I knew that they lost their father, and I partly knew that I had lost my husband, but I was so focused on getting the rest of my memory back, so focused on trying to remember who you were, that I forgot that my children are probably traumatized and struggling emotionally.”

I scan his face, but don’t wait for Liam to answer before I add in, “I lost my father when I was about sixteen, but it was of natural causes... we sort of knew that he was going to pass away before the fact. But Gabe and Ella didn’t know... we had just left them at practice! For their favorite sports! And when they come back they find out that their father is no longer with them and their mother doesn’t know who they are? I can’t even imagine what they went through.”

My voice breaks a little, and I feel like I’ve fully comprehended what I’ve done to my children. My poor little babies.

Liam reaches across the table to take my hand, but I regain my composure. I continue: “Moving to Cordonia didn’t make it any easier. Right now what they need is a support system.”

“Of course,” he answers.

I sit back in my seat. “And... I want to say that I’m sorry. For leaving without telling you. Maybe this wouldn’t have been so hard had I communicated better.”

“It was my fault as well,” Liam states. “You deserved more than the trysts and secrecy.”

I didn’t understand why he was putting unnecessary blame on himself, but a small voice in my head tells me that he did wrong me, and he was right to apologize for it.

“Okay, but,” I try to interrupt him, not wanting to shoulder more blame on either of us. “We have time. To figure out what this is going to be. Until then, we have to... sort of co-parent Gabriel.”

“Co-parent?” Liam asks.

I wonder if he’s ever heard that term before. “Even though our relationship is very uncertain right now, we have to work together to help Gabriel.”

“And Eleanor, of course,” he adds.

I scoff and roll my eyes. “She can be a bit of a handful sometimes. I don’t want you to get worried about her. Gabriel’s your son, you should—"

“She’s nothing I can’t handle.” Liam chuckles. “I’ve spent time with both of them, and they’re quite well-behaved. But... may I ask you something?”

“Go ahead,” I allow him, taking another bite of my spaghetti.

“Why did you choose the names ‘Gabriel’ and ‘Eleanor’ for them?”

I slowly chew my food and swallow it. Liam hasn’t touched his food in the last couple minutes, and I imagine that he’s waiting for me to speak.

“Gabriel was my father’s name,” I tell him. “My mother suggested it.”

At the mention of her, he raises his eyebrows. I notice it and begin to laugh.

“Oh, my God! My mother gave you a hard time, didn’t she? Rowan told me about it.”

Through a broad smile, he says, “Yes, she wanted me to leave immediately and return to Cordonia. I half expected her to kick me out, but I managed to win her over.”

Boris, his wife, and their three children had been visiting the U.S., and we all decided to go to the Bahamas for the long weekend. My mother came with, since she enjoyed Boris and Theo’s company.

Astrid and I were sipping on wine. The children were playing around within sight. Theo sat next to me, with Boris and my mother on the couch in front of us.

They’re all laughing, but I’m tired. Annoyed. Before we flew over here, Theo and I had argued. I told him it was time that I told Gabriel about Liam, and that we returned to Cordonia.

He had been clean for a while now, but I still blamed his irritability on his withdrawals. He would never lash out in front of the kids, but wasn’t kind to me.

He said that if I really wanted to leave, I could just take Gabriel and go.

I wasn’t going to take up his offer, but I went to the drawers where we kept all our passports.

I find Gabe’s, Ella’s, and his, but I can’t find mine. I turn to yell at him, knowing that he took it, but he’s already out of the room. I race to the living room, ready to make him give me back my passport, but my mother has arrived since we said that we would go over to the Bahamas together. She embraces Theo like he’s her own son.

Now here, while we’re supposed to be enjoying some free time with family and friends, Drake, Maxwell, Hana, and Liam’s faces flash before my eyes. Perhaps in another life I was enjoying drinks with them instead of Theo and Boris and Astrid.

Theo notices the distraught look on my face, and wraps his arm around me. He kisses the top of my head, and whispers to me: “I’m sorry.”

There’s a large part of me begging myself to pull away, but I don’t want to be alone. I wanted Liam more than anything, but it was clear to me now that it was either Theo and my children or loneliness. I fall into his embrace, and I decide that it’s best for Gabriel and I if I stayed here.

“Um... that’s great,” I shake myself into the present moment. “I... had Gabe in L.A. actually. My mom flew out to come and see him. She was the one who suggested the name. Theo mentioned that was the name of a historical figure in early Cordonian history.”

Liam smiles fondly. “And Eleanor?”

I blush, but continue. “I, um... looked into your mother’s death. When I was pregnant. It was after the incident with Regina. I imagined what it would have been like for us if your mother had never died.” I wait for him to comment, but he says nothing. “I assumed she wouldn’t have kicked me out of the country like Regina did. And, of course, I knew that your mother was important to you. Since I wasn’t going to name our kid ‘Constantine,’ I figured that naming my daughter Eleanor could... connect our family through the distance.”

Liam’s smile widens. “That is a great honor for my mother.” The look on his face falters when he looks back to me and asks, “Theodore was content with it?”

“I told him I just found the name pretty. I didn’t think he knew that it was your mother’s name, but... there’s a chance did know.”

Liam takes a few more bites of his food. “Seems as if he knew quite a lot about Cordonia. It would be a surprise if that was something that he skipped over during his research.”

I scoff. “There’s a high chance he was lying about it, but honestly I did my best to avoid arguing with him.” I sigh, and stare down at my plate. “Even though I was fine with taking up the responsibility of Gabriel all by myself, I was pretty shocked when Theo helped out.” I look up, analyzing Liam’s expression. “Liam, I’ll never stop being sorry for separating you from your son for so long, but I think it’s important to acknowledge that at least he had a normal childhood.”

To my shock, he smiles at me. “Yes, I’m glad of that as well. I knew that if I ever had children, I would never want them to deal with as much pressure and stress that I had when I was younger. But there is another thing I wanted to discuss with you.”

“What is it?” I take a long sip of the wine.

“The issue of legitimacy.”

I put down the glass and sigh, my anxiety increasing. “Do you think that might be a big problem?”

His eyebrows furrow and he slowly nods. “Duke Bertrand mentioned it to me. There’s a chance that people would object of him being anointed as the heir.”

“They’d say I was a crown chaser and all that stuff, right?”

An anger flashes behind his eyes, but he calmly says, “Yes.”

I feel hopeless when I say, “We can’t release the DNA test, or his birth certificate or whatever?”

Liam sighs heavily. “No. People would claim they are fake.”

I didn’t want Gabe to go through the disapproval that I suffered during the Engagement Tour. I try to grab at reasons or ways to make Cordonians believe that Gabe really was Liam’s son. “Well what about Bartie and Bertrand? Did people question if Bertrand was really his father?”

Liam rubs his chin. “I’m sure some did, but I heard nothing of it. And Bertrand and Savannah were married after she returned to Cordonia. If any person did have questions about legitimacy, it would have dissolved after their marriage.”

“So you’re saying the only way to make people understand that Gabe is your son... is if you and I married?”

“Well, no, that wouldn’t eliminate the people’s disapproval entirely, but it would help them towards believing the truth.” He looks up at me, his eyes holding a hopeful question, and I understand why he started this conversation.

“Liam... you can’t be serious.”

Suddenly, his stoic exterior is gone, but his voice is level when he speaks. “Riley, the distance between us did nothing to lessen my love for you—”

“Liam,” I say forcefully.

He takes a deep breath and continues. “I know there is a lot we still have to talk through—”

“Liam, no, I... how do you expect me to accept a proposal only a few weeks after my husband died?”

He blinks, and his face slightly reddens with embarrassment. “My apologies, Riley, I didn’t consider that.”

Stifling silence spreads around the room. Neither of us touch our food or even look at each other.

“I hope,” Liam tries to speak. I can tell it’s difficult for him; he thinks about every word before it comes out of his mouth. “I hope the commitment that you had to your husband does not stop us from... continuing our relationship.”

I say, “Of course,” before his words make sense. What did he mean “commitment”? Was I committed to Theo?

I try to remember something that could prove him wrong, that would show that we were never committed to one another like a married couple was, but I can’t think of anything, and Liam speaks up again.

“But, Riley, I must press the matter of time. The anointing is at the end of the Social Season. That’s long enough for people to speculate and spread rumors. The last thing I want is for you or our son to feel any kind of worry.”

“Liam, please, I can’t think about that right now. I’m already stressed about what’s going to happen, I don’t think I can deal with a royal engagement on top of that. And our relationship is already strained. Getting married may not be the best idea. And if that backfires, it won’t only hurt us, but it’ll hurt Gabe and Ella, too.”

He stares at me, taking a deep breath. In a low voice he pleads, “Then give me until the end of the Social Season.”

“What?”

“Give me until the end of the season to prove to you that getting married wouldn’t backfire.”

I let out a laugh. “You’re joking.”

Liam shakes his head, and reaches for my hand. “I am utterly serious, Riley.”

I narrow my eyes at him, tears of frustration brimming at my eyes. My voice is soft when I say, “Why are you doing this, Liam? You’re supposed to be mad at me for keeping your son away from you for a decade. You missed ten years of his life because of me and you aren’t angry in the slightest.”

“I will admit,” he begins. “I was quite upset... but I did not know the full extent of what you went through.” He scans my face for a moment. It’s all I can do to not burst into tears. “Riley, not once has my love for you faded. Not even for a moment. I knew during the Social Season that you were the only woman for me, and I have known that through the entirety of our separation. Let me prove that we are the only ones for each other, and if by Gabriel’s anointing I am proven wrong... then we can... co-parent, and that shall be the extent of our relationship.”

Thinking about Liam trying to win my hand was silly, and honestly, I didn’t want it. But after everything, I didn’t think that being co-parents could be the only thing between us.

“Alright,” I relent, and he gives me a thankful smile.

We finish the rest of the meal, and he talks to me about the time he’s spent with Gabriel and Eleanor, and his joy about the topic is represented on his face. I truly hope this won’t be too difficult. I wanted everything to go back to normal, to the way it should have been. Even though that reality was officially unattainable, I try to convince myself that letting Liam attempt to bring us back together wasn’t a bad thing.

[smallcrystals]

sciflash 46 i’m getting invested

i’m actually kind of glad i didn’t delete this ask since i changed my mind !! this drabble (or as much of a drabble it is since it’s fucking long) is not gonna be part of my canon sciflash timeline.

one of the main reasons is that the topic is gonna be hard to fit into the rest of the continuity, and another is that i didn’t really want this to be about sciflash, given the topic at hand. so they’re just best friends in this (which i think maisa would appreciate tbh haha). i just wanted to focus on their relationship as best friends and how they comfort each other. so yeah!

anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this !!

tw / bulimia

———

Twilight shoved her hand into the pocket of her skirt, pulling out her phone to check the time. Twenty-five to four. She hoped to get to the Music Room before anyone else did, before the school bell rang at quarter to, hoping to not get lost in another large crowd of students. One strap of her bag on her shoulder, she raced up the stairs, gripping on the railing at the top to take a quick breather before starting up her run again.

Turning left, then right, she reached the Music Room and stopped, almost falling over her feet from the impact. After adjusting her hair and her glasses, she took a better look at the sign on the door. The Rainbooms.

Shit. Had the girls already booked the place before Flash got here?

She grabbed the handle and pushed it down, pausing when it wouldn’t go any further than forty-five degrees. She tried again, harder this time, and it wouldn’t budge. Twilight threw a confused look at the door before reaching for her phone again to call the boy in question until the door opened and Flash popped his head out.

“Oh, it’s just you,” Flash said, letting out a sigh of relief. His voice was low, not monotone but just… dull. His expression, while at first was filled with surprise, switched, almost automatically, back to sometime unreadable. She was starting to wonder why Flash texted for Music Room Time and there was one idea, but she didn’t like the sound of it at all. “Come in. Oh, and could you take off The Rainbooms sign while you’re at it—if that’s okay.”

Twilight nodded and unhooked the sign, bringing it inside with her. She wandered further into the room, tossing the laminated card along with the others. Flash locked the doors again.

“So, you said you wanted Music Room Time?” Twilight said, giving him as best of a comforting smile as she could give. 

Music Room Time was one of their few codes Flash and she used. The others were simple, cutting some words down, but this one was more ambiguous. Flash said he thought of it from the time he found Twilight alone in the CHS Music Room, grumpily attempting to play the guitar (and failing which worsened her mood). He had sat with her, playing his own, allowing his presence to comfort her since she clearly didn’t want to talk about whatever happened. And it worked. Well, it always worked. Flash did that somehow.

She couldn’t even remember what happened. But ever since then, really, did this start. If either of them wanted to rant about something, or ask for comfort, they’d use Music Room Time. They both found familiarity in this room, Sentry for obvious reasons and Twilight… well, she didn’t really have a clue as to why. Maybe it wasn’t the room itself, more so the people the room reminded her of.

Flash nodded in a sort of sheepish way, lifting the hem of his high-waisted jeans up with both hands. “It’s… I don’t know.”

“Advice or comfort?” she asked genuinely.

“...comfort.” His gaze fell to the floor, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. She had taken note of that ages ago when they started talking more that it was a nervous habit of his. “If that’s okay…”

Twilight felt her lips form a frown. Why would he think it wasn’t okay?

“Of course it is,” she said, voice tender. After dropping her bag to where Flash placed his, she walked up to the stairs and sat, patting the spot next to her for him. Flash dusted down his t-shirt, which was perfectly tucked into his jeans, and followed her.

He looked so tense. She hoped it wasn’t because of what happened yesterday but she couldn’t convince herself it wasn’t about that. The situation wasn’t pleasant in the slightest and his head probably wasn’t in a good place either. So she wanted to tread lightly, careful to not give him the wrong idea that he couldn’t speak to her about something so personal.

Twilight looked down at the gap between them, a gap larger than what it’d normally be. When it came to personal space, they kept it at a friendship level, or as close as friends could get since he and she were both affectionate people in general. So the size of that gap between them scared her a little.

But Twilight didn’t want to bother his personal bubble just yet. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Twilight decided to ask, in a very soft tone. She surprised herself with this one too, her voice had never sounded like that before. That wasn’t to say she had never softly spoken to someone, she just didn’t think her voice could be so delicate.

Flash paused. “Maybe? I don’t know. I just… I’ve never tried doing that before, you know? Puking out a meal after I-I just had it?” He choked on his words, to which he audibly gulped and wet his lips so it would be easier for him to speak. Twilight’s hand instinctively climbed to her pocket, though she wasn’t sure why when a water bottle wouldn’t fit into her pocket anyways.

“Do you want some water? To clear your mouth?” she added.

Flash hesitated, cheeks a little red. Then he nodded. For those few seconds, before she got up to get her bag, he looked at her in a way she couldn’t describe but it was warm. Thankful? Soft and almost vulnerable. She slid her water bottle out of the side pocket of her bag and then jogged back to her seat.

“You don’t have to sky,” she said.

And just as she knew Flash would, he skied from her bottle, washing the water from one side of his mouth to the other, gulping it down after. He let out a sigh through his nose that sounded freer and then handed it back to her.

“Thanks.”

She grinned at him. Once she placed the bottle to the side, she took the opportunity to slide a little closer to the boy, just enough to not invade his space but enough to let him know he could ask for a hug.

The thing was, Flash never asked for anything he wanted. It was only until the chance came to him that he’d take what was given. She admired that in him but also couldn’t help but worry; he kept so much to himself that he probably really wanted, needed even, but was too scared to ask. Twilight noticed it every single time. She just didn’t know how to get it out of him.

“You’re okay to continue?” she asked. Her hand closest to him twitched in temptation to lift it up and hold his shoulder, but she wouldn’t do it without his permission. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

Flash gently shook his head. “I wanna talk about it.” Twilight squinted for a second at his eyes. They were a little red and smaller. Red from crying? From tiredness? It felt like a mix of both. She wasn’t sure how she didn’t notice it until now but the need to let him know it’s okay fizzed inside her chest, becoming more irritable by the second. She really wanted to do something about it. But she had to wait until he asked.

“It’s not really a surprise to you, or anyone really, that I don’t… think so highly of my appearance as everyone else does. I don’t know what I was thinking after I had my lunch either—I-I feel like I’ve been eating too much recently too so I figured—” Flash’s arms slowly wrapped around his stomach.

The inner corners of Twilight’s eyebrows drew in. She wanted to help so badly.

“I don’t know, okay, I’m just…” He pressed his lips into a line. The pain in his expression was too obvious.

Twilight watched him curl himself up more, as if to make himself smaller, his eyes avoiding her gaze. “Can I sit a little closer to you?” she brought herself to ask. Flash looked at her and then at the space between them before nodding softly. Twilight shuffled along the step until their hips were almost touching. Instead of what she expected Flash to do – move away because she might’ve gotten too close – he turned his body to face her more and then rested his head on her shoulder.

“I just hate this voice in my head.” The vibrations of his voice hit her collarbone, more so due to how small his voice was. “It twists everything anyone says about me, or mostly my appearance, and I don’t why, like what’s the use, what do I gain out of it? More modesty?”

As if Flash needed any more modesty. If Twilight could name anyone off the top of her head who she’d consider the least egotistical person on Earth, it’d be Flash.

“I remember my throat and chest hurting so much just from puking out, like what, a ninth of my meal? Maybe that snapped me out of it because it wasn’t even that much and if I were to continue, who knows what pain I’d receive.” His brows furrowed against her shoulder. “But Twi, I-I… my head was in such a fucking mess, and it doesn’t help that my opinion on my self-image wasn’t high to begin with.” 

Her hand on his shoulder wrapped around his neck, the other climbing up his other arm. Just by the sound of his voice cracking, Twilight’s eyes couldn’t help but well up. She always wished she could control her emotions and be there for her friends but seeing them upset only ruined her too.

And all in all, if she was being honest? The fastest she had ever started tearing up was from seeing Flash Sentry cry. And those were from when she caught him from afar. Now that he was literally right by her side, she knew she would take her less than a few seconds until she collapsed with him.

“There was this argument in my head in the bathroom, just going back and forth between telling me this is wrong and telling me this is will help me and it felt so loud, like those arguments your parents have and they try to drag you into it, telling you to pick a side, it was overwhelming and—”

And that’s how Timber found you. Twilight flinched when Flash cut himself off mid-rant, taking a quick glance at Twilight before sighing out what felt like bottled up exhaustion. I must’ve said that aloud, Twilight internally groaned.

She wasn’t there for the entire thing but from what Timber told them when Flash was with the nurse, he found his closest best friend at the brink of breaking down by the sink. Him trying to figure out what was wrong only made Flash spill over that brink. Twilight saw glimpses of it when peaking into the boy’s bathroom. She had been behind Sunset who looked completely mortified, almost ready to storm into the boy’s bathroom to comfort him, completely forgetting about the school rules.

Timber didn’t look so better himself. He looked like he had been through a haunted house three times consecutively and shock had struck him permanently. She knew that face of helplessness, of how the fuck did I not catch onto my best friend going through this? That feeling wasn’t a stranger to her either.

She gazed down at the boy. He was holding back.

After slightly hissing at the tears tickling her cheeks and wiping them away with her sleeve – well, an attempt of wiping them away with her sleeve – she rubbed Flash’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Flash…” she started. “Do you want to cry right now?”

Simply mentioning the word cry caused her eyes to fill up with tears again. Her throat was tight from the knot in her chest and her head was desperately trying to get rid of it but she ignored it.

Wide-eyed, she stared at him when he shook his head.

“What do you mean?”

“I… I don’t want you to be upset because of me.”

Twilight’s expression switched to one of bafflement. “Why wouldn’t I be upset? I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“That’s the thing; if seeing me hurt hurts you then I don’t want that,” he said with another strained chuckle.

“It’s not about me, Flash,” she said and was about to continue before:

“I-I know… I…” he ended up giving up his end of the argument since he couldn’t find the words to say. She knew what he meant without him having to put it into words, causing Twilight to freeze for a second.

“You don’t want to see me hurt because it makes you feel like you’re burdening me?” she finished for him. Her brain halted for a minute, shocked she managed to put that into words. It halted for even longer when Flash nodded. Huh. We really aren’t that different, are we?

Twilight’s hand moved to wipe that tear that finally broke from Flash’s eyes and then halted, deciding to let it fall down his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Flash said.

“Shh,” she immediately said after, almost like she was interrupting him. “Don’t. It’s okay. Do you want anything from me?” Twilight felt the word hug bubble in her throat and the urge grew larger.

“Um…” His gaze fell to his lap and he squirmed around for a second. “I…”

Twilight wished she could get rid of the internalised stigma Flash had about being a taker; the boy gave so much without limits, to the point where she thought that might be a contributing factor to that stigma he had. She took in Flash’s features and how he was trying to say what he wanted but it wasn’t coming out.

We really aren’t that different, are we?

“Do you want a hug?” she asked, her voice so quiet she’d be surprised if he actually heard it.

Flash, of course knowing him, did and a smile broke from his lips, completely contradictory to his eyes glossing over rather quickly. Before she could see proper, clear tears roll down his face, Twilight wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. She rested her cheek against the top of his head, feeling his arms wrap around her waist.

She heard his little, barely audible sobs and couldn’t hold back her own tears. Twilight slid her own glasses off, held onto them by the arm as she hugged Flash a little tighter.

“I-I’m… I just need someone to tell me it’ll be okay, someone to show me I’m okay the way I am because people just telling me doesn’t do shit,” he muttered, words blotchy from crying.

Twilight thought about all the times people have complimented Flash on his body and knowing well the boy couldn’t take compliments, it wasn’t because he was catfishing for more (he would never), the compliments just didn’t get to his head. 

He had gotten so many under Twilight’s watch and who knew how many he got during family functions, clubs and parties outside Canterlot, times where he was in someone else’s bed. He, of course, knew people found him handsome, pretty, any adjective describing beauty.

But… 

“I w-want someone to teach me how to believe I’m as good as they tell me, too.” Flash’s tears fell onto Twilight’s collarbone.

The air was heavy around them, Twilight’s sight blurry from both tears and no sight but she could feel. Feel Flash tremble in her arms. Twilight presses her lips as more tears cascade down the side of her face, some disappearing in her curly bangs.

“I-I know I seem like I want answers right now…” Flash said, lifting his head up a fraction, though not enough for Twilight to fully see him. Not that she could bring herself to, anyway.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Twilight replied with a light shrug of her shoulder.

It made Flash chuckle at least. “But really—I know you can’t give me answers so I’m not asking for it. I just…”

“Want comfort and someone to listen to you… right?”

Flash nodded. His soft hair brushed against her damp cheek. She stayed quiet as Flash sniffed. Silence brushed over them, thick with the discomfort from the conversation. Her right hand came up to Flash’s head, tempted to hug him tighter. Twilight had cried into his chest multiple times and she was more than okay for him to do the same too.

The two flinched when the first end of school bell rang, both looking up at the red bell across the room. Twilight sighed, turning her head to Flash.

“Do you want anything else?” she asked, still softly.

He hummed lowly, as if deciding what he wanted. Then, without saying anything else, he tightened his arms around Twilight. She understood.

Hold me just a little longer.

Twilight tightened her arms around him too.

Of course.

[talpup]

Lost Song:11

Summary: The war between the Dragons and Griffons ended 233 years ago, and both races right along with it.

Or so it was believed. There are three individuals that will soon change that.

Kai is the last of the Dragons and he seeks to take what he sees as his rightful place and rule over all of Oblvi. Meanwhile, Shouta, the last Sphinx, wants nothing more than to do his job; keep the peace and and teach the young Fourth’s to hopefully avoid the mistakes of their ancestors. And Teris, a Foundling who is just trying to understand and survive in this strange new world that is supposedly her own.

All three have their own wants and desires, but Kai’s plans, Teris’ existence, and Shouta's past mean that none of them may get what they want.

This fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.  For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Earlier this week someone asked a great question about Nemuri and His Purple Highness' home trees.  If you wanna see that question and answer go on over to my tumblrs homepage.

11.1

The next morning Teris entered the great room and plopped next to Hizashi on the sofa.  Keenly aware of Shouta's presence, she avoided looking in the Sphinx's direction least their eyes meet.

Though the two had talked after His Purple Highness had left.  They hadn’t talked about the Dryad King calling her halted words a confession of love.  With luck Shouta had forgotten about it.

Teris bristled.  The peach fuzz along her face turning into tiny downy quills at the memory of Shouta smelling of sex and Nemuri.  Her fingers caressed over the bracelet he had given her.  Catching herself she pulled her hand away and focused on Hizashi.

“How was your date?”

“Hmm?” Hizashi hummed, distracted by how Shouta and Teris refused to so much as look at each other this morning.  Had they had another argument?  What was he thinking? Of course they had another argument.  Arguing was how they distracted the other from how they really felt.

It must be tiring, Hizashi thought.  Lying to yourself about your true feelings.  It was certainly tiring for him and he only had to live with the secondary effects.  He should've stayed home.  Teris had been upset last night. Distressed about something.  And Shouta had apparently left her in rush without hearing a word she said.  That didn’t sound like Shouta.  Gruff as the Sphinx was, Hizashi couldn’t see Shouta ignoring and leaving like that.  Not when Teris had clearly been worried about something.

Then again he had left.  Hizashi's lips twitched in shame.  He had known Teris had minimized her distress so he would go on his date.  He could’ve canceled and stayed with her.  Maybe then Shouta and Teris wouldn’t be pretending a whole section of the room didn’t exist simply to avoid looking at each other. He could've asked Oboro if they could’ve saved the Venti’s plans for another time, and hung out in Hizashi's Ilca dorm with Teris.  Shouta and Oboro were friend's.  With Oboro there maybe Shouta and Teris wouldn’t have argued at all.

“Your date.  How was it?”  Teris asked.

“Oh! It was amazing!”  Hizashi instantly brightened.  His guilt about leaving Teris, and whatever argument she and Shouta may have had falling away.

Shouta tuned out the Banshee-High Elf’s loud, excited chatter.  He had other things to focus on.

“You! You’re what’s wrong.“ Teris’ words from last night replayed in Shouta’s mind.  “You with your face and hair and way you move. That voice that makes me—“ Shouta frowned slightly, eyebrows pulling together.  What about his face?  What did his voice make her--  He shook his head in annoyance. That wasn’t what he needed to focus on.  This afternoon was the gathering to honor the visiting Council Elders.  Of course Teris was expected to be there.  The Council might’ve said they sent a contingent to meet the two Foundling’s.  But with Hizashi's species already known before word of the visit was sent, Shouta knew they were here to meet Teris.

More like inspect her to try and suss out what she was and how she ended up in the human realm of earth, Shouta thought darkly.  He had been through such interviews and inspections shortly after His Purple Highness had found and released the stoning spell on him.  He didn’t like the thought of Teris being subject to the same.  At least his inspection had been done by His Purple Highness.  The ordeal quick.  With Shouta allowed to keep his underclothes on.  Depending on who carried out Teris’ inspection, she might not be so lucky.

Hizashi stopped the detailed recounting of his date.  “You alright there, Shou?”

Shouta straightened in his seat.  He hadn’t realized he’d been growling.  He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair, smoothing down the heckles on his neck that had risen.  “Fine.”

Teris looked at Shouta out of the corner of her eye.  Shouta did the same, looking at Teris.  Their eyes met and quickly flicked away from each other as if stung.

Hizashi's slightly pointed ears lowered a fraction.  Why were they always like this?

Shouta sighed and pushed to his feet.  “There’s a couple hours till the gathering.  Do what you want but be here and ready to leave ten minutes before.”

Hizashi deflated further.  “I can’t go with Oboro?”

Shouta's eyebrows knitted together.  “You’ll both be there.  Why do you want to go with him?”

“Because--”

“Never mind.”  Shouta cut in over Hizashi.  He didn’t care enough to know.  And wasn’t in the mood for one of Hizashi's long winded answers. The main reason for the order was to keep Teris close.  The bracelet seemed to have worked.  But Shouta was still concerned about His Purple Highness’ curious reaction to Teris.  “Just be here tens minutes before.”

“Shouta.” Teris got up and followed after him.  As much as she wanted to avoid the Sphinx after last night.  She hadn’t told him about the disturbing encounter with the winged man.

Shouta turned eyebrows raised in question.  Damn, she was beautiful.

Teris paused, pierced by those bottomless dark eyes.  Why did he have to be so devastatingly handsome?

She fiddled with the bracelet on her right wrist.

Shouta's eyes lowered, watching her fingers caress the bracelets braiding. His skin prickled, scalp tingling.  He wondered what it would feel like if she ran her fingers through his hair.

Teris’ eyes followed his.  Her hand jerked away from the bracelet and rubbed along her pant leg as if burned.

“I need you.”  She said.

Shouta’s heart fluttered and skipped a beat.

Hizashi slapped a hand over his mouth.  He literally bounced in his seat trying and failing to silence his squeal.

Teris closed her eyes and shook her head.  “I mean.  I need to talk to you.”

Shouta smirked at her blushed.  She really was cute when flustered.  He almost told her he was always up for whatever she needed; but didn’t.  He hadn’t been up to staying and listening to whatever she needed yesterday.  And Teris was the sort of contrary person who’d point that out.

Instead Shouta turned and headed toward his office.  Teris followed.

Once inside she told Shouta about the winged man.  Though clearly displeased about the kiss, Shouta had seemed more concerned about the Fourth himself.

“Who is he?”  Teris asked.  She hadn’t met everyone at Traverseen Hall and hoped he didn’t work here.

Shouta leaned back, gripping the the front of his desk and silently cursed.  He knew he should've given Teris the bracelet yesterday morning.  Why had he waited?  Even if Hawks hadn’t gotten a good enough whiff of Teris’ hereditary scent to notice it now being muddled by the bracelet.  Hawks’ sharp eyes would’ve seen Teris hadn’t been wearing the bracelet before. He would know it was new and wonder at it.

“His name is Hawks.  He works for the Council.” Shouta told.

Teris relaxed back in her seat, relieved. “So he’ll be leaving when they do?”

Shouta didn’t answer.  While he hoped Hawks would leave when the members of the Council did. He had a dreaded feeling the Anzu would stick around.

“Shouta?” Teris pressed.

“I’ll speak with Nedzu.  Until then…  Stay by my side during the gathering.”

Teris bristled.  “I can take care of myself.”

Shouta rubbed tired eyes.  “Teris…  This has nothing to do with that.”

“So Hizashi has to stay by your side too?”  Teris asked.

“You’re the one who came to me uncomfortable about this.”  Shouta grimaced as soon as the words were out. If he was to properly protect Teris, he needed her to come to him. Striking against her Griffon pride would only make her close up.

Teris glowered. It didn’t matter if Shouta had a point.  She didn’t need him.  She didn’t need anyone.  She had been taking care of herself for as long as she could remember. Sure that had been in earth against humans.  But a few months before she was brought here there had been that scarred man with the blue flames…  

Her heart beat faster at the memory.  Who had the man been?  What had he wanted?  Surely he had been a Fourth.  Had he passed through the realms like the Derrick had with her?  Was he now in Oblvi?  What if she saw him again?  Teris’ mouth opened to tell Shouta about the man she had escaped from but stopped.  Shouta had said the Council would want to interview her.

She looked up at him.  “Will you be there?”

Shouta’s head tilled aware she had changed the subject but not sure what to.

Teris moved in her seat, knee brushing Shouta’s pant leg.  Why was he standing so close?  He’s just standing in front of the desk, she told herself.  It’s still too close, she thought.  Had the chairs in the office always been this close to the desk?  Shouta’s presence alone made it difficult to focus.  But when he was this near…  Teris fidgeted, resisting the urge to push the chair back. The prideful beast within her wouldn’t allow sign of weakness or submission.

“Teris?”

Shouta’s low baritone warmed her blood and quickened her pulse.  Why did he have to sound like that?  She wished he didn’t know her name. Wished he’d say her name again.  Wished…  “At the Council's interview?  Will you be there?  Will they ask you questions too?”

“I’ll be in the room for the interview.”  Shouta said, both wanting to be in the room for her inspection and glad he wouldn’t be. “They’ll probably ask me a few questions.”

Teris nodded.  Then she definitely didn’t want to tell Shouta about being held captive or the things the scarred man had said.  It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. But she’d rather not make Shouta a conspirator in her lies to the Council.

“You have nothing to worry about.”  Shouta said.

Teris smiled sadly wishing that were true.  But if what the scarred man said was right. She had a great many things to worry about.

Shouta wanted to go on.  Wanted to tell her that he would protect her no matter what.  That he would rather die than see any harm come to her.

“Keep the bracelet on.  Don’t ever take it off.”

Shouta's low stern voice sent a shiver through her.  Teris’ hand moved to the bracelet on her right wrist.

Between the topic, her thoughts, and the coming interview with the Council; things had gotten far too dark and serious.  Without Hizashi there, Teris was left to try and lighten the mood least she break under the tension. “Is this to be my Piece of Their Person?  I thought Fourth's were meant to chose their own piece.”

Expression unchanging, Shouta’s eyes and voice sharpened. “I mean it, Teris.  Don’t let anyone take it off you unless I’m there.”

“Why did you give it to me?  What does it do?”

Shouta's fingers twitched wanting to caress her face. “It protects you.”

Teris looked down at the shining charcoal bracelet.  Disappointment crept into her heart. So it hadn’t been gift.

Shouta gave into his need to touch her.  His first finger brushed the line of her jaw and curled under her chin, lifting her face to look at him.  “Promise me, Teris.”

“I promise.”

11.2

Even after three months of living at Traverseen Hall the place still amazed Hizashi.  Dwarf magic or no, it was mind boggling how such an unending colossal interior could fit within the still massively large exterior of the campus.  Grand as Traverseen Hall was from the outside.  There was no way the mind could reconcile even a portion of the space they were walking through to be from the same building. The proportions just didn’t line up.  Even with the perspective change that Hizashi still had trouble controlling and gave him headaches. He still couldn’t fathom how such a gargantuan space fit in the castle like, though human-sized structure.

Hizashi looked about in awe, seeing the full scale of the space as it would appear if everyone were in their true form. “This place is even bigger than all the other buildings.”

“Keep up.”  Shouta admonished, leading the way down the long hall.

Hizashi sped his pace but didn’t stop gawking.  Mouth slightly open, he looked up at the hallways gilded coffer ceiling.  He had seen Shouta in his true form.  The Sphinx was huge.  But even Shouta in his true form would be dwarfed by the space.  The ceiling had to be three-story’s taller than the Sphinx's true form.  And the width.  Even if Shouta were to spread his wings to their full extent there would still be enough room for at least a couple stadiums on each end. The windows themselves were the height and width of a multi-level building.  Starting six meters off the floor Hizashi couldn’t even see out them.

Hizashi's different focus of perspective didn’t mean he just saw the space differently.  It meant he existed in it differently.  Even though he was walking at the same pace as Shouta and Teris, Hizashi was left a hundred paces behind for every step they took. For Shouta and Teris who were focused on the more human scale perspective Hizashi's steps were mere shuffles that left him ten paces behind for every one of theirs.

Suddenly the distant Shouta was in front of him as if out of nowhere.  “I told you to keep up.”

Hizashi sucked in a startled breath.  His eyes changed focus, switching perspectives.  The hallway shrunk down like a snapped rubber-band. He saw Teris several steps ahead, frowning at Shouta for his scolding.

Hizashi swallowed a wave of nausea the change in perspective always brought on and licked his lips.  “Sorry.”

“I don’t want to be here either.”  Shouta said, mistaking Hizashi’s dawdling as reluctance.  “But we have to.  So let’s go and get it over with.”

Hizashi opened his mouth to correct the misunderstanding but Shouta had already turned, walking back to Teris.  Hizashi's eyes flicked about the still large space.  Though cramped, Shouta would still be able to fit in his true form.  At least he could now see out the overly large windows.

“Hizashi!” Shouta called.

“Right! Sorry!”  Hizashi rushed after Shouta and Teris.

Teris entered the grand room and abruptly stopped.  Her eyes instantly fixed on the winged man across the room.  Hawks, Shouta had called him.  Her senses hyper focused.  Vision sharpening to clearly count the barbs of his crimson feathers.  Ears tuning in to hear the rustle of his wings.  She registered Shouta's presence behind her before she felt the tickle of his hair on her bare shoulder. Her nerves so alert, muscles so reactive that his hot breath felt more like a physical touch as it rolled over her neck.

Shouta looked at Teris and followed her gaze.  Hawk’s gold eyes slowly turned. Before the Anzu’s gaze could lock on Teris, Shouta stepped in front and faced her. The tension in his shoulders eased.  Relief washed over him.  Agitation and concentration could trigger a Fourth's heightened senses and led to mild displays of their true form.  But Teris’ features hadn’t sharpened.  Her beautiful face the same as it ever was.

“You alright?”  Shouta asked.

With Shouta blocking the view Teris’ focus broke.  Her heightened senses diminished.  Blinking, she looked up at him.  “What?”

“Are you alright?”  Shouta asked, again.

Teris nodded.

“Just stay by me.”  Shouta told.

Teris scowled. “I told you.  I can take care of myself.”

“It’s an order.”  Shouta said without expression.

Hizashi caught up to them and stopped beside Teris. He looked between the two.  “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Shouta said.

“Why doesn’t Hizashi have to stay by you?”  Teris asked, tersely.

Hizashi brightened.  “Shouta wants to keep you by him?”

“It’s not like that.”  Shouta said.

“He thinks I can’t take care of myself.”  Teris said.

“That’s not it either.”  Shouta told, a bite in his tone.

Hizashi rolled and massaged his neck.  He liked to think himself a patient person.  But he was this close to yelling at the two to just fuck already.  He and Oboro had.  While they hadn’t bickered like Shouta and Teris, the release had gone a long way in helping rid Hizashi of his nervousness around Oboro.

“I’m gonna go find Oboro.”  Hizashi said.

Shouta glanced at Hizashi.  It was less than a second but when he looked back at Teris she had turned and was slowly inching away.  Shouta’s jaw tightened, eyes narrowing. He must be cursed.  Why else would the Fates send such a woman to test and torment him? There was no logical reason why Teris continually turned the simplest things like an order to stay by his side into an ordeal other than to purposefully provoke.

Even if the command hadn’t been important to her safety.  Shouta wasn’t in the mood to suffer her petty challenge.

Grabbing her arm Shouta’s chest pressed against Teris’ back nudging her through the door they’d just entered.  As soon as they crossed the threshold he pulled her to the side and spun her around, pushing her back against the wall.

Teris’ mind whirled from being so quickly moved about. She made to step forward and away.  But Shouta gripped her hip, holding her in place.  Her head turned eyeing the open doorway just a pace away along the same wall she was up against. But any chance of escape was blocked by Shouta’s strong arm.

His hand rested on the wall just above her shoulder, caging her in.  Shouta leaned down and gruffly spoke in her ear. “You either follow my command without test or complaint.  Or I use my piece to tie you to me.”

Eyes ablaze Teris’ head snapped to face him. “You--” Her voice faltered seeing how close he was. She stared into his dark eyes heated indignance evaporating from hers. Her gaze lowered to the capture weapon he threatened to tie her with then pulled back up and stopped on his lips, no more than a few inches from hers.

Shouta’s eyes took on a different kind of fire.  He smirked. Lips parted, tongue pushing out to wet and pull his lower lip in, giving her a view of the tantalizing muscle.  Top teeth scrapped over his bottom lip.  He watched her pupils dilate.  Heard her breath hitch. Felt her shift as her core clenched and thighs squeezed together.

His thumb rubbed against her hip.  Fingers digging into her flesh. “You like the thought of that?”

Teris’ eyes darted back up to his.

Shouta’s voice purposefully lowered in pitch and volume. “If you wanted me to tie you up.  All you had do is ask.  No need to act the brat.  Unless you like being disciplined.”

Teris’ eyes widened.

Shouta's body crowded over hers. “Is that why you keep testing me, Kitten?  Want me to tie you up and punish you?”

Teris’ hips danced under Shouta's hand.  A warmth pooled in her core.  She shook her head, cursing the betraying mewl she gave.

Shouta's cock stirred at the sweet sound.

“Tha—that—that’s not...”

“Look at you.  Struggling to find words when I haven’t even touched you where you need me.” Shouta taunted. His eyes pulled over her body leaving tingling goose flesh in their wake.

Teris drew in a hitching breath, heaving chest drawing Shouta’s desirous gaze. “I—I...”

“You what, Kitten?  Use that pretty voice and tell me.  What do you want? ” Shouta’s knee brushed her legs grazing the channel between.

Teris trembled.  Her muscles jerked legs eager and ready to part.  Body begging for him to press his knee between her thighs and grind against her core. Her hands fidgeted at her side fighting the need to touch him.

Shouta's head dipped bringing his lips no more than a couple fingers width from hers.  “You said you needed me this morning.  Is talking all you wanted? Tell me, Teris.  What do you really need of me?”

“I…”

“You.” Shouta whispered.  He breathed deeply, pupils dilating at the enticing whiff of arousal that seeped from her heated pussy.  His mouth watered imagining the taste. A hungry growl reverberated in his chest.

Battle lost Teris’ hands lifted.  Shouta inched closer.

“Aizawa.”

Shouta silenced a second more dangerous growl.  Hands dropping from Teris and the wall, Shouta straightened and turned to the newcomer.  “Chisaki.”

Bottomless dark eyes met molten gold.  The Dragon and Sphinx stared each other down, unblinking.

“Kai.” Teris greeted, disappointed and relieved at the interruption.

Kai’s amber eyes shifted from Shouta to Teris.  His fingers itched wanting to reach out and pull her from the Sphinx and to his side where she belonged.  He sniffed smelling her arousal through the nose dulling mix of numerous Fourth's in the room beyond.  While part of him knew better.  He told himself it was his presence that had her body reacting in want.

“Teris. Good afternoon.”

Standing beside the Dragon, Ryuu heard the clear softening in Kai’s tone as he said Teris’ name in greeting.  Less obvious but far more telling was the barest upturn of Kai’s lips when his eyes focused on her.

“Are you alright?”  Kai asked.

“Why wouldn’t she be?”  Shouta rumbled.

Kai spared the Sphinx a glance and looked back at Teris, seeing the bracelet he had missed at first sight. “Some Ilca leaders are known to be harsh and demanding of their members.”

“You should talk.”  Shouta said.

“I’m fine.”  Teris said, smiling her thanks.  With as rude as Shouta was, was it any wonder why someone as genteel as Kai would worry about her?

Shouta’s chin ducked, frowning into his piece.  Kai might have Teris and countless others fooled but one day the Dragons mask would slip.

“Elder Ryuu.”  Shouta opened his mouth to introduce Teris to the Council member but was cut short.

“Interesting.” Ryuu stepped to Teris.  His nose flared taking in her scent.

Teris stood her ground despite the urge to shrink back.  She looked nervously at Shouta.

Shouta stared at Ryuu, eyes darkening. As flamboyant, lascivious, and loud as His Purple Highness was. At least his mentor had the civility to first introduce himself.  This wasn’t Teris’ interview or inspection.  She was a proud and beautiful Fourth.  Not some thing to be examined on sight.

Kai’s eyes sharpened.  He didn’t like the way Shouta was looking at his mentor.  Nor did he like that Teris had looked to the Sphinx instead of him for direction.  Aizawa was useless.  Proven by the way Shouta stood silently by and glowered at Ryuu instead of offering Teris a nod of assurance and comfort.  Teris had nothing to fear.  His mentor was merely appraising her.  Ryuu would surely come to the same conclusion he had.  That Teris was flawless.

Ryuu looked Teris over with a critical eye. “Clearly a pure blood beast of some kind given the perfect human form.”

Kai hummed in agreement.  Preening as if the Tengu had praised him personally.  Ryuu might’ve been speaking of how Teris’ human form didn’t carry over any traits of her true form the way Hybrids did.  But Kai also viewed the comment as speaking of Teris’ form in general. Not simply because she looked completely human.  But because her features and proportions were perfect.

Catching himself, Ryuu apologized. “Forgive me, my dear.  My curiosity got ahead of me there.”

“As it is known to do.”  His Purple Highness said from the doorway.

Standing beside the Dryad King, Nemuri smiled at Teris.

Teris looked pointedly away.  Her nose wrinkled with a sniff, remembering the stinging smell of sex and Nemuri on Shouta.

Seeing the exchange, His Purple Highness placed a comforting hand on Nemuri's shoulder.  He had yet to talk to the young Dryad, and fully intended to do something that would help Shouta and Teris’ relationship along.

Ryuu chuckled at the Dryad King’s words. “Say’s the man who followed his senses and found a young Sphinx, unspelling him without first bringing it to the Council.”

Shouta, who had been returning Kai’s unblinking stare, looked to Ryuu.  He had no doubt that if His Purple Highness had brought his stoned spelled body to the Council they would’ve smashed him to pieces.

“It’s not as if I found a Dragon egg and secretly saw it hatched before making the Council aware.”  His Purple Highness said.

Kai’s molten gaze fixed on the Dryad King.  He didn’t like the Tree Spirits tone.  Never mind that the man was talking about him as if he wasn’t there.

“True.” Ryuu said. He turned to Teris and apologized once more. “Forgive us, my dear.  You must think us terribly rude.  I am Ryuu. An Elder on the Council and Leader of the Tengu’s.  And this is--”

His Purple Highness waved Ryuu off.  “Teris and I are acquainted. We met last night after an unfortunate interruption on my part.”

Shouta looked from His Purple Highness to Teris.  The Dryad King thought that Teris had been about to give some confession of love.  But Shouta knew better. His Purple Highness didn’t know how much Teris hated him.  She didn’t love him.  Which suited Shouta just fine because he didn’t love her either.

Teris stole a glance at Kai.  Even though she meant what she said about keeping things solely as release.  She’d rather not have His Purple Highness bring up last nights near confession to Shouta.  She shook her head and corrected, what His Purple Highness mistakenly thought was a confession.

She smiled at Kai’s mentor.  “It’s nice to meet.  Kai’s told me of you.”

“Has he now?”  Ryuu looked over at Kai who was watching Teris.  He saw an imperceptible softness in the Dragons features that likely only he could see, having raised him.

Remembering what His Purple Highness had said when he thought Shouta had told her about him, Teris quickly added. “It’s all been very respectable.”

“Of that I’m sure.  Kai is nothing if not respectable.”  Ryuu said

Shouta scoffed.

All eyes turned to him.

“Shouta.” His Purple Highness lightly scolded. “There’s nothing wrong with being respectable. No doubt your friends and colleagues say the same about you.”

Kai did much better job of managing his disbelief.  He met Shouta’s gaze with an expression of studied politeness.

“Why some of the wildest release sessions I’ve had happened with respectable Fourth's finally letting their hair down.”  The Dryad King went on.

Nemuri nodded in agreement. While Shouta ducked into his capture weapon grateful for his long hair. He wasn’t embarrassed by the scolding.  But wished his mentor could go five minutes without bringing up sex.  Or at the very least, personal escapades of release.

Accustomed to the Dryad King’s ways Ryuu moved the conversation along telling Teris.  “Well I for one am looking forward to hearing a bit about you during our dinner this evening.”

“Dinner this evening?” Teris repeated.

Kai would've rather told Teris about the dinner privately but didn’t miss a beat in saying.  “You and Ryuu will be joining me for dinner tonight.”

Teris blinked.  It wasn’t just that they had seen each other and had sex yesterday, and Kai hadn’t said a word of this.  It was the way he said it.  Her lips parted to say no simply because she didn’t like that he had decided for her.  But Shouta spoke first.

“No.” The Sphinx said.

Kai’s eyes slid Shouta.  “I didn’t invite you.”

You didn’t invite me either, Teris thought.  You tried to tell me how it was.

“She’s not going.”  Shouta said. It was bad enough Teris spent seven hours a day for five days out of the week with Kai.  That she had sought release with him.  Shouta wasn’t about to let her spend extra time with the Dragon who would kill her the moment he discovered she was a Griffon. Teris was his…  Fuck!  His Ilca.  She was part of his Ilca.  Why was it so hard to keep that single thought straight?

“You don’t own her.”  Kai said, certain Shouta had given Teris the bracelet.  The Sphinx was deathly wrong if he thought he could try and claim what was his.

She’s my Ilca, Shouta thought before saying the words aloud, wanting to get them right. “She my Ilca.”

“So this is another command of yours?”  Teris questioned, heatedly.

His Purple Highness and Ryuu shared a knowing look.

“I think we should leave the young ones to fight over… things.”  His Purple Highness told the fellow Elder.

“I believe you’re right.”  Ryuu said.  He inclined his head to Teris.  “It was nice meeting you, my dear.  I hope this afternoons interview isn’t the last we see of each other and you do join us for dinner.”

A look of disapproval crossed the Dryad King’s face. The point of leaving was so they wouldn’t say anything to sway Teris’ choice to their chosen favorite.  Not that there was any doubt Shouta would win in the end.  The Sphinx had been found with Teris’ feather.

“Nemuri.” His Purple Highness called, turning and re-entering the grand room.

As soon as she was left alone with Shouta and Kai, Teris told Shouta.  “I’m going to Kai’s for dinner.  He’s right.  You don’t own me.  What I do in my free time is my business.”

Fierce eyes fixed on Shouta, Teris didn’t see Kai’s smug look.  But Shouta did.  He saw the Dragon’s gold eyes rake over Teris’ body and wondered how she didn’t feel the undressing gaze.

A warning growl sounded deep within Shouta's chest.

Thinking Shouta was growling at her, Teris growled back.

Shouta's eyes moved a fraction, focusing on Teris. His expression both softened and darkened at once.  She had no idea the dangers she was entertaining in getting closer to Kai. And he was in no mood to suffer her bratty, too proud attitude.

“Get inside.”  Shouta snapped without emotion, hand gripping his capture weapon.

Teris’ eyes widened, remembering Shouta’s threat.  Kai’s smug look vanished at how quickly Teris obeyed.

Shouta met the Dragons glare but felt little pleasure at it given the coming interview and inspection Teris would soon face. Never mind that she would now be spending the evening with Kai.

This fic will have a LOT more world building than my others.  Please feel free to comment or send me an ask if you have any questions.

Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special thank you to those who have left comments and/or reblogged. They really mean a lot.

Special thank you to @inorganicone2230 who knows of my love for the mythic and encouraged me to start this fic without stressing about the other two I’ve got going.  Your friendship means the world to me.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

When Death Comes || Morgan & Deirdre

TIMING: Before the mushrooming

LOCATION: Hambry Park

PARTIES: @deathduty, @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan wants something more from her death.

CONTAINS: discussions of death and dying, soft goth girlfriends

“...When it’s over, I want to say all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real.” Morgan punctuated each line break in the poem she read with a kiss to Deirdre’s spine, climbing up the vertebrae, colored auric and purple-shadow by the golden hour, until she was mouthing the final lines into the nape of her neck: “I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument. I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.” The poem finished, Morgan set the book aside and wrapped herself around her love’s body, pressing in until they tumbled sideways onto the blankets and pillows they’d spread over the grass. “It’s your turn, my love.” Morgan said. “How do you feel about reading with a zombie on top of you? While also eating pie? You still have your slice, you know.” As she spoke, Morgan finagled their bodies so she was resting against Deirdre the way she liked best, tucked against her side with her face cradled between her neck and the gentle slope of her chest.

Hambry Park was gilded all around them by evening light. Even the most weathered angel monument or the most moss ridden death’s head icon turned lively in the glow. Red wildflowers, weary from a day’s worth of swaying with ghosts, folded down to brush their petal cheeks against the earth that held the dead. Morgan pressed a finger into the ground with them, wondering not for the first time what it would be like to be held that way too. “I wonder who designed these things,” she said, thinking out loud more than anything else. “Like, did the person who died say they wanted cherubs, or a bible verse, or a cute little flying death head? Or was it their family? Or some funerary designer? They’re so beautiful, and they’re all a little different, right?”

There was some measure of amazement in hearing the same words said a dozen times, not tiring of them. How many times had Deirdre heard that poem exactly? And yet, it was always a treasure to hear it said again by Morgan’s tongue---as though she might have been reciting scripture from her heart instead of a poem from another’s. The poem ended (too soon, always too soon) and they tumbled away, bubbling laughter erupting from Deirdre’s grinning mouth. “As if I’d want it any other way.” Her fingers tangled into Morgan’s hair, playing absently with the strands as she reached out for the book (the picnic basket with the pie was too far, and she would never dare have them separate, even for a second). Thumbing through the pages with one hand in search of the right poem to recite, was no easy task. She had to thank the flimsy paperback for being flexible to her stubbornness, but in the time it took her to flip the pages, a breeze rolled over their picnic and claimed all of Deirdre’s progress in navigating the book. “Hm?” She abandoned her search in favor of tossing the book down to air her irritation with the wind. “You mean the graves?” Deirdre couldn’t quite make them out from her angle, but she’d been to Hambry enough to have the scenery memorized.

“Depends. Some people plan these out; funerals can be expensive, and picking out and saving for a headstone can be a weight you alleviate later on. Some people never think to decide, and so the family might pick through catalogues and displays--fighting over what Bible verse they think suits grandma better. Some people are...even less fortunate than that. But Hambry is on the nicer end, and anyone buried here undoubtedly had money, so it wouldn’t even surprise me if the headstones are custom pieces.” Another gust swept over them and the book flopped out of reach. The poems were a lost cause now. Deirdre sighed. “Why do you ask? Thinking of buying a headstone?”

“I know all that,” Morgan sighed, pulling down the ends of Deirdre’s hair and starting to arrange them in a loose eight strand braid. “When it was time to bury my mom, she had everything set out, like a really...awful, morbid, pop-up book. With lots of fees and fines. I opened the lid of the storage box she’d shoved everything into and a brochure literally flew out at me. And then they didn’t make the coffin she’d picked out anymore, so I had to pick out another one almost at random.” She smirked sadly at the memory. “But I wondered if things might’ve been different back in--” Morgan squinted at one of the gravestones she could see from her place. “19-0--something.” She kissed her love’s clavicle and wrapped them tighter together. “Maybe I do want one, though,” she shrugged, as if she were thinking about getting a new dress. “I mean, that would be kind of ridiculous, because where would it go, right? And then a whole plot of land doing nothing, just being there? But, I don’t know… I mean, a girl should get to have something for dying and mostly coming back.” Even flowers could be dried or pressed to commemorate what they offered to the world. Even the dead remains they’d burned in the woods had ash and bone that now lay comfortably at the bottom of Dark Score Lake. Animals, at least, had bones to leave behind and flesh to be devoured or return to the earth that had helped feed them. Her death didn’t even make the paper; it couldn’t. And if anything happened to her permanently, who was to say her remains wouldn’t become goo in a few days? Morgan bristled at the thought. It wasn’t even her dead self she wanted to lay in the ground; she had made it far enough out of the pit to not long for that anymore. But she wanted something. “It doesn’t feel right that everything I used to be has to be invisible, or written over. Does that make any sense?”

Deirdre’s brow quirked up, silently asking why, then, Morgan was wondering about it. She didn’t have to wait long for her curiosity to be answered. “It could go anywhere you wanted it to, my love.” Deirdre paused her brushing of Morgan’s hair, considering it. Morgan had died, and she had lost parts of herself, but it never felt that way to Deirdre. What was there to bury but memories--and those could always be carried just fine in the heart. But she knew Morgan missed herself; missed her magic and her heartbeat and the ways she connected to the world--now forever changed. Deirdre sat up slowly, not wanting to push Morgan off her chest but wanting to look at her a little better as they spoke. She reached a happy medium of propping herself up on her elbows, half-raised. “I wouldn’t say it’s invisible, or written over. They’re still a part of you; in my mind, at least.” She stared out at the rows of gravestones and statues, claimed by nature. “You never did get to have a funeral. You could always have some memorial, some way to remember yourself as you did--or put those parts to rest. If that’s what you want.” Deirdre pushed herself up to sit properly now, urging Morgan back in her arms so she could hold her tight. “...is that what you want?”

“Only a few people even know I died at all, I think that counts as pretty invisible,” Morgan said. Of course, some part of her had always been partly a secret and always would be. But for some reason, hiding her death seemed even worse than her species. Even nobodies got obituaries, or a funeral director to process their body and give it one last look before burning up into ash. Even the supernaturals who were not more than parts in that storage units had her, Lydia, and Deirdre to watch them, to try and carry their pain. “I had to tell everyone at work there was a death in the family, and then make up some distant cousin, because everyone already knew I didn’t have any family. I didn’t even bring home all the bereavement cards. And I’m never going to be--” She swallowed, voice growing thick, and sat up with Deirdre. She crawled into her arms as she beckoned, nuzzling her way into her grasp and finding the right place for her arms so she could squeeze her tight or rest almost effortlessly if she wanted. “I’m never going to be just the way I was. I’m never gonna warm you up, or make anything beautiful just by willing it. Or enjoy fish tacos. I don’t know if I’ll ever have patience or belief or hope like I used to. You love me the same, maybe even more, but I’m different. And I-- want a place for that...stuff. That missing stuff that just belonged to Alive-Me.”

Deirdre looked back at the gravestones, overtaken by nature, forgotten by time--pillars of memory. She knew enough lonely ghosts to fill her own obituary. She’d seen enough deaths that would remain unanswered to know the great tragedy of one gone unmourned. But it didn’t work in black and white. The gravestones were relics practically, if there existed a soul who cared about the names written on them, they hadn’t visited. The ghosts thought it worse that the flowers left at their grave slowly dwindled over the years, just as the memory of them faded. And every loss was mourned, even if the person they were mourning wasn’t dead. Death was both never invisible and always, but she knew that wasn’t Morgan’s point. “Where would you put her? Your alive-self. Where would you bury her?” Deirdre longed to tell Morgan that she still warmed her, that she always made beauty, that her hope hadn’t left at all---but refrained. Morgan would always miss herself, how could she not? It didn’t matter how perfect Deirdre thought Morgan was, it wouldn’t bring anything back. And it wouldn’t stop Morgan’s rightfully deserved mourning. “Would you want a ceremony? We could do something...whatever you want. We could burn everything, bury it, I can buy you a plot of land and the best headstone any cemetery has ever seen. Tell me what you want it to be like.”

Morgan gave a wet laugh and squeezed Deirdre tight. She wasn’t sure why having Deirdre’s support, her tender questions and touches struck her with the kind of gentleness that melted and stung. “Oh. Um--I didn’t think that far. Well, not realistically. I thought, alive me liked those dates at the beach we had, so maybe I should put something in the sand or float it off to sea. Or she could go in the back yard, in the flower beds, and she could pretend like she was helping to grow the flowers Moira likes to play in. Or, um, gee, if I actually left behind a body, I’d get to have the fun debate of whether to get buried in Texas or get buried here. And, maybe my bereaved girlfriend would get me one of those big fancy statues goth kids take pictures under, but like, more pagan, because judgey angels aren’t really my thing, or our thing. Or maybe there would be a pyre, like we had in the forest, and someone could say...here burns the Morgan that was. She made crystals out of dirt and trash and sold them for tens and hundreds of dollars on Etsy. She cried over dead deer, and the cats that spent their lives in animal shelters, and the parts in Grey’s Anatomy where they saved lives in the nick of time, and sometimes herself, because no one else would. And um…” Morgan shrugged, laughing now in the kind of way that hid tears. “...For a while her only real friend was her cat Anya, but she came to...stupid, probably-cursed White Crest, Maine and almost made everything different for the better. She had friends, and roommates, and a job she didn’t hate, and big, dramatic love, and there were even days when her magic was actually good for helping people. She believed, more than anything, that she could make things different. That she...had a better life, just around the corner. And it never felt closer to it than when she…” Morgan pulled away to scrub her hands over her eyes, breathing tenuously through the sobs that wanted to break through her chest. “She had so much hope, she died thinking she could say ‘I love you’ one more time, even though her lungs were probably filling up with blood. It was so stupid, but she really...thought she could…” She tried breathing again, but the sobs she was holding in broke and she couldn’t make herself say any more.

Deirdre reached for Morgan again, anchoring her back as she pulled away. She wrapped her arms around her; tight, secure, as if she knew nothing else. Hearing Morgan's sobs rack her undead body, spurring to life dead lungs, and a eulogy spoken with shattering honesty, Deirdre made poor work of trying not to cry. For all the love she held, she could not take this pain away. But she kissed her like she could, pressing her lips to every exposed inch of skin she could reach—urgent, rough and desperate.  Between each breath she spilled was an unspoken declaration of love, and ending each quivering sob was one of devotion. She gathered herself together just enough to speak. "Texas, obviously. Your family is there. I'd fly every one of our friends out to see you there if I had to. And I'd get a monument here too; I don't know why you'd have to be remembered in just one place. I obviously deliver a eulogy that makes everyone cry—I'd tell them all about how amazing you are, how much love you put into the world, how strong-willed, how you fight even when you don't have a fighting chance, and how brave you are. How unfathomably brave.” Deirdre sniffled, memories of Morgan’s death surged through her mind. She could remember where the rod was, which parts of Morgan hadn’t been stained by blood, the way her legs bent. “I’d tell everyone how much I love you. How much I’ll always love you. And how lucky I am, to have been loved by you too---how lucky I am right now.” She leaned down to kiss her again, whining as her lungs burned and forced them apart. “But you’re here, Morgan. You’re here and you get to decide how you want to remember yourself, how you want others to. And you get to say ‘I love you’ as many times as you want now.” She breathed out, trying to calm her rapid heart, which was only trying to adjust for the way her stiff body resisted crying more than she already did. “What do you want to do right now? We could...have a mini-ceremony...for now. Anything. Whatever you need.”  

It was almost a relief to hear Deirdre cry. The last time Morgan had declared how dead she was, Deirdre had been too intent on holding her together to cry for any of it. But there was an ache to the words she gave, to the way she fastened her against her body. Maybe Deirdre didn’t miss Morgan the way she missed herself, but she hurt for her, cried for her, and still carried a wound from that awful day. Morgan imagined that their hurt throbbed in synchronous harmony, that something was missed together, even if they felt it differently. Morgan didn’t know the word for it, she could only think of it as a kind of magic, two disparate parts brought into the same vibration and bound closer until they looked like one. As Deirdre held her, there was no rush of cold, no illusion of being submerged into her deathly calm. But there was still the weight of her, steady as gravity, keeping her fastened to the earth, to the life she still reached for, no matter how far away it drifted. Morgan pressed back into her, filling her hands with as much of Deirdre as she could fit.

She could imagine everything Deirdre said so perfectly, that even if she’d stayed sleeping and broken, Deirdre would have done everything for her. She would have found out where her family was, she would have brought her down to be with her family and made a place where they could be together. Even if she had stayed dead, there would have been a way to stay close to her. She turned to look at her love as she heard her cry, and stoked back her tears. “I love you,” she stammered, gasping through cries of her own. “I love you, Deirdre. I love you so much.” She sniffled. “Even if I hadn’t pulled myself together this much, it’s pretty good, to be able to tell you. That I--” Another sob heaved out of her and she hid herself back against Deirdre’s body, aching for the soothing wave of cold being this close used to give her. “Breathe, okay? Breathe for me, my love,” She sniffled and tried to remind her lungs how to work too, wheezing for breath as she struggled. “You. You saved me, when I came back. And I love you, and I want you with me. And I want...something, even a small something that...that proves what happened to me wasn’t nothing. It wasn’t nothing. Everything’s been so hard ever since, it wasn’t nothing. Do you think...we could bury something I kept? A crystal, or something else I made, or can’t use anymore? It can be at home, or on the beach, or anywhere else. It doesn’t really have to be some...gothic statue. It can just be...something that can rest. I want that. If those parts of me can’t come back, they can at least rest somewhere. I’m not going to be able to anytime soon, you know? But, when we get home. For now, we can just lay here for a little while. If you want that too--?” She mumbled most of her words into her shoulder and held on tighter.

Deirdre held Morgan tighter, with great fanatical desire to meld their bodies together—hold her pain inside of her, take it away and give her all of the love that bloomed instead. She imagined that in her arms held her gratitude, for whatever God there was, or whatever twist of fate it might have been that allowed Morgan to speak those words as many times as she wanted. For each 'I love you', Deirdre swelled with her own 'thank you's—to Morgan, to the world. "You're one to tell me to breathe," she laughed, pressing a kiss to Morgan's forehead. Her lungs might have protested, and her heart might have had an argument or two lined up, but she knew how important being able to hold Morgan—kiss Morgan—the right way was. Not just for Deirdre's sanity, but for the desperation to feel she knew coiled inside of Morgan. She must have read Morgan's letters and words about her cold body a dozen times, she must have asked to hear them a dozen more, but she never dared ask if Morgan missed it. She knew the answer, and Deirdre had a response of her own. She held her tighter. Closer. Her head against her chest, flush to the slow pounding of the heart that beat for her. She might have frozen her body if she thought it'd bring back the feeling for Morgan, but there were better ones she could make. That she was learning how to make. "If I saved you, then you've saved me a thousand times, Morgan." Deirdre smiled and nodded. "Okay. As soon as we get home, we'll do that. We'll find the right piece, and the right spot. And if you want some pillar to remember where it rests, we'll do that too." For her arguments—that all of Morgan, and especially those parts she thought she lost, had never left—she shook them away. This wasn't about that, she knew it. Even as she ached to reassure her, to tell her love of all the beauty she had never stopped seeing—all the magic that existed inside of her; in her smile or her eyes or the delight of her laughter. "Do you miss her?" Deirdre asked after a moment. She knew the rudimentary answer to the question, and she'd inquired down similar paths before, but she asked knowing time had passed since her last query and she always loved to hear Morgan's thoughts anyway. Even if she heard them a hundred times before, even if she knew them by heart. "Yourself. As you were before you died. Do you miss her?"

Morgan sighed into all of Deirdre’s kisses and touches, soaking up each cotton brush of ghost feeling as if it fueled the magic keeping her alive. She whined, wordlessly asking for more, and brought them down to lay on the blanketed ground. She could touch more of her at once this way, and if she closed her eyes, it even seemed like her romantic fantasy of alchemizing themselves had come true, the two of them, distinct and dissolved at once. “I miss getting goosebumps when you touch me, and the way it was like falling into melting ice water when I put my head against you. And I miss pasta night, and tacos, and pie, and Al’s. I don’t care about it anymore, but even that was nice. And I miss the way you made fun of my hair when it was all flat and sticky after sex. I miss falling asleep in your arms, and naps in the afternoon with Anya.” She sniffled, remembering the little black cat and how they used to pad around the house together, enough that she would sometimes call Anya her shadow. She kissed Deirdre wherever she was closest, passing back whatever vitality, whatever warmth that went beyond physical sensation. Back and forth between them, in such a balance that they always seemed to be bursting with an abundance of feeling. “I miss breathing. And my heartbeat. And getting sweaty. And being so tired I could practically fall over. And smelling my own cooking, and...my magic. There were years when the Universe was the only one who would really hold me at all, when it was just me and my magic and trying to break the curse. I could just make the world prettier with a touch of my fingers. And patience. Alive-Me would never have lost my temper at you, not the way I have since I died. And she never threw a real punch in her life. She thought she could power her way though anything, and that habit is still there, but it’s hard not to second guess or feel like an idiot when I know that it’s just the kind of thinking that helped get me killed. And sometimes it feels like...those parts of her couldn’t take it, and that’s why they stayed behind. She was so naive because it just hurt too much, after everything awful that had happened, to realize that’s what most of the world was going to be. She thought she couldn’t find that happy other side because of her curse, but there’s just...more mess, and more unfairness from people who don’t care enough to make things different. We have to make our own good. It was never gonna fall out of the sky like some weird Christian angel light.”

She shifted on the ground to look at Deirdre and brush away the wetness on her cheek. “Do you miss her too? You can say, if you do. I know you love this me too, and you’ll love me longer, just by, you know, how math and linear time works. You can tell me, Deirdre.”

Just as Morgan spoke, memories were breathed into existence. Deirdre closed her eyes and allowed them to filter through her mind. She knew the way Morgan shivered to her touch and the delight that curled up her own lips at the sight---she was different from all the humans that flinched or shrieked, she seemed to like the cold just as much as Deirdre. She remembered nights of fighting Anya for Morgan’s affection--some happy medium was reached with Anya in Morgan’s lap and Morgan in Deirdre’s--with their plates stained by pasta sauce sitting unattended on the table (Deirdre would pick them up later, but it always spurred a whine to be pulled away from Morgan). Plans of a breakfast at Al’s would be shared between them, right before Morgan fell asleep in Deirdre’s arms---she always waited to hear her breathing to lull her to sleep. She knew well the way that sweat built on Morgan’s body, the places she’d grow the warmest in, and the way her hair stuck flat to her reddening face---she remembered each time she brushed that hair away, pressed kisses to her burning cheeks and watched with awe as Morgan caught her breath. Deirdre opened her eyes. Lazy rolling clouds above greeted her. “For each moment that will remain a memory, there are new ones…” She sighed, speaking to herself. She might not have been able to watch Morgan shiver, but that didn’t matter much when she could feel every bump and curve for herself. Moira would wiggle her way between them. Morgan watched eagerly for her reaction to her latest cooking venture, unable to taste for herself. Deirdre slept now to the sound of Morgan’s voice, holding her love tight in her arms, and woke just the same way. They didn’t go to Al’s anymore, but she wouldn’t replace their morning jogs for anything else. And sex--well, now the only limitation was Deirdre’s abundant stamina.

“That’s why I don’t miss it. I don’t miss her.” She smiled, quickly catching up to explain herself. “I don’t see you as lacking anything, you know that. And if that’s how I think...there’s nothing for me to miss. I love you, just like this. Just as you are, always. I don’t want to be thinking about anything else, I don’t want to look at you and think about the things that aren’t. You’re perfect to me. You always have been, and you always will be. So, no, I don’t miss it. I...well--not like how you miss it, at least. I don’t want to, and I won’t allow myself to. What kind of a person would I be if I thought that way? If I missed what I have?” She tilted her head down, pressing a kiss to Morgan’s nose. She wouldn’t be sure she was making sense, and she figured she probably wasn’t--even for as impeccable Morgan was at deciphering her thoughts--but she felt it in her heart. To claim she missed something was to say there must have been an absence, and there wasn’t. Morgan wasn’t less to her, she never would be. Morgan might have mourned the pieces of her that were gone, and she should, but Deirdre never would allow herself that. She never would indulge the idea. “I miss you when you’re gone from me. I missed you that one day I had to wait for you to wake. I miss you when I’m at work. I don’t miss the things we used to do, I remember them and I’m happy they happened, and I love what we can do now just the same. How you were when you were alive...to me that’s still you now. I just won’t do it. I won’t miss you when I have you.” She paused. “But I know you miss it. I won’t stop you from doing that, and I’ll always be here if you want to talk about it--or remember it. But every trip to Al’s we don’t take, we’ve replaced with hikes and picnics and graveyard visits or movies at home. And I love that. And if that changed, if we had to replace those moments with something else, I won’t miss them either. Because I’ll love what we do next, and I’ll always love whatever it is we do next. However it is we change. I would have loved you as an old woman, I’ll love you as an immortal. I don’t miss it. I have you.”

Deirdre closed her eyes again. “I think Alive-You would have lost your temper at me all the same. Alive-You might have grown to learn more painfully about the world. She might have thrown a good punch one day. She’s not so different from you. She was just alive.” When she opened them, the cloud had shifted and somewhere beyond them she knew a world continued to turn. Change was inevitable; to the living and to the dead. But it wasn’t so bad to mourn what changed. “Your optimism isn’t what got you killed. That was Constance.”

Morgan thumbed Deirdre’s cheek as she spoke, watching every turn of her expression, trying to follow her down her maze of thought. She liked their life, which had grown around her death like weeds bursting through asphalt. She was stronger since she died, and maybe even before then, without all of the extra curse-related anxiety and running for her life. There were hunters, still, but she was learning how to handle that, and they were so much easier to get rid of than a ghost or a curse. But she was still drifting in a strange form that kept her at one degree of remove. And yet to hear Deirdre speak of her, it was as though nothing had been severely disrupted, as though their life had merely taken an unexpected turn in its ever continuous growth towards abundance. “You can let yourself miss something,” she whispered, confused. “You don’t have to lock that away…”

But Deirdre was so confident, so gentle and firm with her estimation of the past and everything that had changed shape around their present, their future. From Deirdre’s lips, their life was a wonder, something to be faced with the same curiosity she approached a freshly gored corpse, its bones shining with promise. Morgan couldn’t imagine taking the ache of the pieces they’d left by the wayside. There were days when everything different she did felt like a desperate excuse to cover up what was missing. No damage! Nothing to see here! Morgan even tried to imagine how she might approximate her new self into those spaces she’d left behind. What if she could go for a burger and not feel alienated out of her existence by not being able to taste it right? The thought of having to shift again for the sake of some other cataclysmic change frightened her. She had just gotten morning jogs and bone crafts. She didn’t want to jettison those too someday. But the years ahead of them were long, and if she dared to look at them, she would know that it was all but inevitable. But she kissed Deirdre tearfully instead, and brought them tight into each other’s grasp once again.

“W-wow, I really don’t deserve you, babe,” she whispered, trying to make her voice light. “But I am so glad I have you. I mean, keeping me around even when I was old and decrepit? That would’ve been a lot to take on. I will, hypothetically speaking, have a lot of fun poking at your gray hairs, but that would be a long way off, obviously…” Morgan’s voice caught, unable to keep up the game she was playing with herself. “Why do I feel so different if we’re the same? What Constance did to me--she-- Why are there days when there’s even less of me than there is right now? And you don’t know that Alive-Me would have stormed out or yelled. Apparently multiple zombies have written that they feel more aggressive after they die, more prone to being...awful, and--” Morgan brought her head down to rest on Deirdre’s shoulder. She didn’t know why she was trying to convince her that things were worse or less than before now. She cherished the survival of their love more than anything else she had managed to keep, though the list felt pretty short. “I don’t know what I’m saying anymore,” she mumbled into her skin. “I love you. I want this to be good. I want to be here, and feel more okay. If I could just skip to the part where none of this hurt and we’re good and doing our best, that’d be really great.”

“I’m not locking it away. It just---even if I try to think about the things we can’t do anymore, I just remember all the new things we do instead. And I get excited for everything else we might do in the future. It’s not--life is a stream, as I see it. It’s hard to swim up-river and say I miss it. I--does that make sense?” Deirdre grimaced at herself. It probably didn’t. She watched Morgan consider it, her thoughts flickering across her face in the turn of her expressions. When she spoke next, Deirdre shook her head. “I could say the same thing about you…” She leaned into the quiver in Morgan’s voice, matching it was a steadiness in hers. If only she could make things better with just the sound of her gentleness, or the pressure of her arms around Morgan, or her words or any number of the things she did that made her wish she could pull Morgan’s pain away. “I would do anything for you, my love. I would then, I would now.” And yet, there was only so much she could do. She couldn’t kiss Morgan like a lullaby to sleep any more than she could love her heart to reanimation. Even that hadn’t changed much from before; she couldn’t ease away Morgan’s curse or the trauma it wrought. The feelings of love never shifted, the desire for care never wavered. Morgan’s pain, in the same way, had only turned to another source. Life was cyclical, wasn’t it? “Because you died. You died and nothing can change that fact, but you’re not some new person--not entirely. I--you died, Morgan. Of course that feels...different.” Deirdre frowned, clumsily stumbling through her explanation. “You don’t know that she wouldn’t have. Isn’t anger just a natural reaction to pain? And you have so much pain. I don’t---none of this is bad to me, Morgan. But I understand how terrible it must be for you. You don’t have to see it the way I do; you’ll figure it out your own way, I know you will.” Deirdre laughed gently, a sound bred more out of a need to prevent an onset of tears than some kind of joy. “It’s okay. You can say whatever you want, whatever you’re thinking. I want to know, always. And I’m forever glad you share yourself with me like this.” She shifted, urging Morgan’s head up with her hands, just enough so she could kiss her better. To kiss her like sacrament, offering prayers of a brighter future and present--to absolve pain and allow it passage to what existed beyond it. “It’s fine. Whatever you are--now, tomorrow, forever--it’s okay, I’m sure I’ll love her too. Don’t worry about...being anything else than what you are, Morgan. Just feel...however you want to feel.” She kissed her again--the benediction.  

Only Deirdre could have spoken so calmly and perfectly of rivers and tides and in doing so washed away the harshest sting of Morgan’s confusion. Maybe that was why she felt stuck on her worst days; there was a tide trying to carry her one way, and all her pain was driving her the other way. In this moment, with her voice as steady as the Earth’s turn, as the resting hum of the energy in the universe, Deirdre’s voice cut through the stagnation and carried Morgan to safety. Morgan nodded along to her words, as rapt as if they were the gospel of the stars. Yes, she was a babbling mess, and that was okay. Yes, she was in pain, no matter what she did she couldn’t shake or bury her pain completely like she had when she was alive. Sometimes when she could bear to look ahead more than a few days, she feared that pain was all that lay ahead for her. If dying hadn’t been enough to stop it, surely nothing would. And the unfairness and the heaviness that came with this fear made her snap at each new hurt that got added to her pile. That was no excuse, but Deirdre’s silent forgiveness fell over her as surely as any cleansing charm.

Morgan took Deirdre’s face in her hands and kissed her as if she were the scion of salvation. If she drank enough of her in, blessed herself with enough of her touch, maybe she could finally will the strange property allowed her banshee to see goodness and certainty in a world marked with death to come into herself and stick as seamlessly as any alchemy she’d ever performed. Morgan clung to her with all her strength, reaching for that hope with each tug of her lips. What tears she had been fighting to keep back fell harmlessly past her lashes and dried up. Morgan was consumed only by this moment, this needling urgency to taste Deirdre’s conviction in exchange for surrendering all her messy doubts and worries. “I want that,” she murmured between kisses, meaning I want it now. For all the frustration and hurt that roiled silently in her dead body, Morgan hadn’t lost the human need for urgency, and so she pressed Deirdre’s body against hers as if it was that magical horizon in the land of ‘better,’ as if she could make come to her by dragging it over with her bare hands, as if it were magic itself. She pulled away  just as her longing bottomed out into hunger, when hope watered in her mouth like desire and Deirdre’s neck seemed as gratifying as any tomorrow she could ever look forward to. “I love you,” she said, voice cracked and starved for air. “Thank you. I am...trying. I can keep trying. I want everything you said. And you’ll be here? And you’ll take me home? And we’ll… we’ll keep going until we can’t, and we’ll make everything as good as we can.”

Loving Morgan always felt inexpressibly right; a place where everything fit and all the world faded away. It was the two of them, against the tides of the earth, the pull of life and death around them. The two of them, standing together at the frontier of something brighter than bright. Deirdre couldn't explain it. She had tried countless times to commit the feeling to words; to write it down or vocalize it in a signature metaphor, but she could only ever pick at the surface. When Morgan said "I love you", it never was just those three words. When Deirdre said it back, it too was something much greater than she knew how to say. Love to her had been nonexistent, conditional or something dangled in front of her like a goal she might reach if she was just good enough for it—her fault then, if it was never given. But with Morgan, everything was different. She never had the words to explain how much everything meant to her, how much Morgan meant to her. All she could say was— "I love you too." And kiss her back. "One day," she murmured against her, "I'll be able to tell you just how much, with the right words. One day, maybe, I'll just be able to love all of the pain away. I want that. I wish I could right now." There never was an old Morgan and a new one, not to her. Always just Morgan, just the woman she loved most. "I'll be here for you. There's no place I'd rather be. And I'll take you home, I'll take you anywhere you want to go. I love you." Deirdre held her tighter, squeezing her arms around her girlfriend as hard as she could, for as long as she could and far past muscle aches. "No matter what happens, I love you. And if you want to mourn yourself, I'll be here. And, well—maybe I wish we weren't in such a public place." Deirdre laughed lightly, keenly aware that even their intimate cuddling probably broke some modesty rules. "As good as we can…" she smiled, "I like that."

[luckyjak]

Why I Don’t Ship Widojest: A Master Post

An anon sent me an ask about this topic, and I debated for quite a bit about how to answer it. Then I decided the best way was to do a long post like this. I put a lot of thought into why I don’t like it, and I thought to share it.

A few things: 1) I am not telling you not to ship it. The goal of this is not to say “Don’t ship Widojest! It is a bad ship and you are a bad person for shipping it!” That is not my goal, okay? The internet and fandom in particular is meant for fun, and if you enjoy Widojest then more power to you! Don’t let me or anyone else stop your fun! Lord knows I have shipped significantly more problematic things. All I ask is that you tag shit more but that’s beside the point.

2) I am not particularly interested in argument. You are not likely to change my mind. I am not trying to be hostile, but if you know reading this is going to piss you off, then don’t read it. A question was asked of me, and so I thought to share my opinion. Unfortunately for everyone involved I am a high school English teacher, and so I cannot think about anything without completely overthinking it.

About my shipping preferences: generally, I like all the ships! I was particularly fond of Widomauk before Molly died, and I now I really enjoy Shadowgast, but I also like Fjorclay, Fjester, Beaujester, Beauyasha, Widofjord, Clayleb, Lavorclay, and, as the only person on earth, Yasha/Caleb. Hell, if Astrid gets a good redemption arc? Caleb/Astrid or even Caleb/Astrid/Edowulf. Any of those ships could become canon and I’d be tickled pink! You can even throw Nott into the mix, even though I mostly ship her with her husband. Nott/Fjord? Delightful. Nott/Caleb? Weird flex but why not? Nott/Jester? Absolutely! They are the best detectives!

I just don’t like Widojest and I don’t want it to be canon, and here’s why:

Doyalist Reasons First:

1) Laura and Liam played twins for years, still act like siblings even though they aren’t related by blood, and it squicks me to think of them together romantically.

Laura and Liam are fantastic actors. If they were hired to play a romantic couple, I have no doubt in my mind they could knock it out of the park.

But why on earth would they want to pretend to be a romantic couple, in a game they both play for fun? 

It would be weird. I play D&D with several guys I consider my brothers, and I can’t imagine pretending to romance either of them in d&d for that same reason. It would be weird. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be weird for Liam and Laura. Maybe they are more dedicated to their RP, and they’d be able to push that aside for the sake of fictional romance. But for me, that would be the last thing I’d want to play, and I suppose I project that onto Laura/Liam.

2) A lot of “evidence” for the ship is the way Liam looks at Laura.

To which I say...did you watch Vox Machina?

That’s how Liam looks at Laura all the time. He’s the president of her fanclub. He’s her twinsie. He always looks at her with hearteyes. I have a hard time seeing that as “evidence” for him having feelings for her when...that’s just what his face looks like.

Now, for Watsion reasons:

3) It has all the benefits for Caleb, and none for Jester

Seriously. What does Jester get out of a relationship with Caleb?

Don’t say someone who understands her, because Caleb certainly doesn’t. In fact, the only person who routinely “gets” Jester is Beau. (see: their conversation on the ship.)

Lots of people accuse Widojest as being a Manic Pixie Dream Girl ship because...let’s be realistic, it has all the makings of one. Tortured, broody man meets young, innocent girl who teaches him to enjoy life once again? Wikipedia’s definition is “[girl with] eccentric personality quirks and are unabashedly girlish. They invariably serve as the romantic interest for a (most often brooding or depressed) male protagonist.” Guys, that is textbook Manic Pixie Dream Girl! It gets even worse because Jester’s character is a healer! You want her to heal him? That is squicky!

And yeah, I trust Liam and Laura to be more nuanced than that, but do you know who I absolutely do not trust to be more nuanced?

The fandom. The fandom that is already producing mass amounts of Manic Pixie Dream Girl fanfic. And as that’s where I spend a lot of my free time...egads. I do not want that.

The few Widojest fics I have read (which, admittedly, are not a lot, because again, I don’t like the ship. The few I have read have been tagged as gen and then come to find out, weren’t.) have the distinct problem of woobie-fying Caleb so that Jester can take care of him, and gosh, I do not want that to become a trend. 

4) Age Gap

Yes, thirteen years is not that major of an age gap. Yes, Fjord/Jester also have a large age gap.

However, there is a world of difference between “20 year old girl displays romantic interest in a 30 year old man, who decides he likes her back after getting to know her for months” vs “33 year old man decides to pursue a 20 year old woman after they danced one time when he was drunk and held hands and she showed general concern for his well-being.” One is decidedly more creepy.

(And would Jester be the one to pursue a relationship with Caleb? I almost think she’d have to, but again, why would Jester ever pursue Caleb when Fjord/Beau are right there.)

(Also, side note that I thought about making it’s own point but then decided it was petty: if Jester’s type is Fjord--tall, broad-shouldered, dark haired, muscled, then Caleb--skinny, red-head, shorter than Fjord--decidedly isn’t her type.

You know who is tall, dark, and handsome though? Beau.) 

And do not say Jester is mature for her age, because she absolutely isn’t! In fact, the whole point of her character is that she’s not mature, she’s very immature and childish on account of her being locked away and being incredibly sheltered most of her life! 

Also not a good excuse: Caleb spent 11 years in the asylum and therefore he’s only mentally in his 20s. Uh, no he’s not. He was in an asylum: he was not brain dead. He lived those years. He might’ve been crazy, but he was alive then. Nothing Liam’s done suggests that Caleb is mentally in his 20′s.

5) What would they even talk about?

This is probably actually the one that bothers me the most out of all these reasons, but uh....what would Caleb and Jester talk about, if they were in a relationship together?

Seriously.

They could talk about books? But Jester only ever reads terrible romance and smut. We saw when she tried to pay attention to the dunamancy lessons that she struggles to be interested in that academic stuff that is Caleb’s bread and butter. They could talk about their childhoods? That will go over well. Jester was locked away from society and Caleb straight up murdered his beloved parents. If they manage to avoid that, I’m sure they could fight again over income, what with Jester being a rich kid and Caleb being a poor farm boy. Pranking? Caleb enjoys a good prank now and again, but I can only imagine he’d tolerate getting banned from so many libraries.

They are a cat and a dog, literally. Caleb is an introvert and his idea of a good time is a quiet night at home with a good book. Jester’s idea of a good time is a party with lots of people! Yet I’m supposed to believe they’d have a happy and fulfilling relationship? Don’t get me wrong, many introverts and extroverts do get married in real life, but like...I have a hard time seeing this one working out. How many dicks do you think Jester draws in his spellbooks--which are expensive and time-consuming and require precise work--before that becomes a point of contention? 

6) He doesn’t trust her enough to tell her his secrets

Hey quick poll! Who in the Mighty Nein doesn’t know that Caleb murdered his parents?

Fjord. Caduceus. And look, Jester.

I have a hard time buying that he sees her romantically when he can’t even tell her one of the biggest things about him. And he’s known her for months at this point.

If I liked a guy, and I found out he had this big secret, and he had told Beau but not me this secret? I would think he didn’t trust me.

I suppose you could argue that he’s trying to protect her. But then that just goes back into the whole “he doesn’t trust her” argument. He even had the opportunity to and he didn’t during their whole hand-holding thing a few episodes ago!

7) What does their ending look like? 

Listen, my ideal ending for Caleb at the moment is “maybe after ten years of friendship he lets Essek tenderly hold his hand for just a moment but no longer” but that’s just me. I see a lot of people who seem to think Caleb’s going to settle down and marry Jester and they are going to have kids, and I just--

Caleb? Having children? Caleb, who murdered his parents and has severe PTSD surrounding that? Caleb, who was abused by his mentor daily for many years? You want to give that Caleb children??? Children who he would constantly worry may grow up to kill him, like he did his own parents, or worse, that he’d do something to accidentally hurt them in a fit of madness?

I could see Caleb maybe adopting a kid if one was forced onto him, but I cannot see him going “ah yes we should procreate!” 

Jester, meanwhile, needs like approximately fifteen kids ten years from now, I think. She’d love them. She’d just adopt an orphanage and let the kids run wild and be the best at playing games with them.

Also, character arcs are important. Because Caleb’s ideal ending is stability and Jester’s is exploration.

Caleb, traumatized child soldier who has spent the past 15 years in an asylum and also fighting for his life, and before that spent time traveling between the Zemni Fields, Ikithon’s home in the country, and the Empire’s Capitol, who then escaped the asylum and spent all of his time running, trying to avoid being caught by Ikithon. The best ending for Caleb is to find peace; peace that involves not having to move around anymore, and having a home again, something he hasn’t had in almost twenty years. Maybe that home is a tower in Nicodranas. Maybe it’s a house in Xhoras with six other people. Maybe it’s a quiet bookstore in Zadash, or a little cabin in the Zemni Fields. A garden/graveyard in the woods. Either way, it doesn’t involve a lot of travel from place to place.

Meanwhile, Jester, who was trapped in exactly one place for her entire life, deserves a chance to explore the world. Even when the Mighty Nein disband, I can’t see Jester being happy to just go back to Nicodranas and stay there for the rest of her life. She may settle down eventually, but uhhh, not for several decades, I don’t think. Part of why my two big ships for her are Fjord and Beau: Fjord wants to be a sailor again, I think, which involves travelling the world, so I could see Jester going out with him. Beau, likewise, is an Expositor whose job is to seek out corruption, which again, means travelling, which Jester would be happy to do with her. Hell, the three of them could go together, sailing and punching evil for all of time! It would be great!

(Also: her god is called the TRAVELER why would you want her to settle down and be a mom??? What part of her story makes you think she needs to stay in one place?)

Lastly

I apologize if this post offends anyone. I’ve just been thinking about it for a while, and while Widojest as a ship has surged in popularity, I suppose I wanted to make a counterpoint about my feelings towards the ship. This isn’t meant as an attack on anyone, again, and please, if you like the ship then don’t look at this as a reason to stop liking it! Fandom is for fun! Keep liking what you like!

And I can’t promise I’m always going to feel this way about the ship--hell, the VOD of Thursday’s episode may come out on Monday, and I may watch it and be converted myself. Who knows! I didn’t like Vax/Keyleth at first either, but it grew on me and now it’s one of my favorites from Vox Machina.

(ALTHOUGH Mr. O’brien I swear to God if you romance Jester while flirting with Essek in a direct parallel to Keyleth/Vax/Gilmore I’m going to fly to LA just to punch you.)

Part of me wonders too if it just comes down to character interpretation, if there is something about their characters that is clicking for some people but isn’t for me. Admittedly, I love Caleb and Jester’s friendship, and I see them more as growing like siblings that romantically, but I’ve been wrong before and who knows, I may be wrong again. But if it is a character interpretation, I just wonder what they are seeing about the characters that squicks me but appeals to them.

[melodythefab]

An Interview with Inferno~

50 Character Builder Questions for your Tabletop Character by Ginny Di

Are you a morning person or more of a night owl?

I am much more of a morning person. I like to wake up early, to start moving as the sun rises and feel sunlight on my skin and feel the rest of the world waking up with me.

What’s the first thing you notice about a person when you meet them?

The way they stand. Do they stand proud? Or do they seem like they have something to hide? Are they fidgeting with something? Do they look comfortable or nervous?

You see a huge spider in your room. What do you do?

Catch it and let it out. I don’t want to kill an innocent creature.

If you could go back and change one decision you made in the past, what would you change?

I would change how I didn’t go to Greenwich sooner. Maybe I’d have met Shortiss, Todd, and Cochann sooner. I was fine, of course, so were they, but I wonder what might’ve happened.

Tell me about your first kiss.

*deadpan* no.

Do you give people second chances?

Of course. I believe there is good in everyone, but also that everyone has a capacity to do evil. We must work with each other to bring the light out in ourselves and others.

Except for Todd. He receives no sympathy from me.

Are you a cat person or a dog person?

Dogs ☺️

Do you think you’re attractive?

By Genasi standards or human ones? I wouldn’t say so, probably, but Basil complimented my muscles the other day, so perhaps? (Me: baby that was for a Bardic no-)

What��s your worst habit?

Letting Todd make any decision with consequences.

(It’s hair upkeep. It might be made of fire, Inferno, but you still have to take care of it).

When was the last time you cried?

It- it’s been a while. I won’t lie, I teared up fighting those black dragons about a month ago, but I also almost died, so I believe I had good reason.

But the last time I really cried- Probably the time I realized I can’t save everyone all the time. That still weighs heavily on me. I’ve come to accept it now, to some extent, but I still wish I could.

Are you a good liar?

In theory, yes. In practice, no. (Read: high charisma, but I always get shitty rolls)

What’s your biggest pet peeve?

Being Todd.

Ok, but really. I’m not sure if this counts as a pet peeve or not, but having a general disregard for the welfare of others.

Have you ever had your heart broken?

In the sense that this is asking? No. However, when we found the Sword of Tyr (I’m pretty sure it’s a homebrew weapon our DM made for her. Basically she has to prove herself worthy to the sword to unlock its full potential.) and I realized that for some reason, I’m not considered worthy by Tyr yet, I’m fairly sure that’s what heartbreak feels like.

It’s okay, though. I’m fine. I just need to do better. I won’t give up.

Are you more likely to use your fists or your words in an argument?

Words first, but then, swords are a fantastic backup option.

What’s something you’re naturally good at?

I’m pretty naturally good at healing. Of course, having Lay on Hands and Cure Wounds helps, but I’m usually pretty good at patching up my friends.

What’s something you had to work hard to be good at?

I have to work really hard to be even remotely passable in anything dexterous. You’d think a warrior like myself would be able to handle a slippery floor or even just hopping into a Bag of Holding, but those are both things that have felled me when my enemies have failed to. (Poor baby has a -2 modifier and I roll really bad for every single Dex check.)

Can you tell when someone is flirting with you?

Absolutely not. Honestly, that entire realm, romance and affection, are just entirely beyond me.

Do you think money can buy happiness?

No. Money can supply temporary happiness. Drinks at the tavern, fancy homes, that sort of thing. But real happiness- at one point, I wasn’t sure it really existed outside of fairy tales. But now I know that true happiness is found in those around you. Shortiss, Cochann, Todd, and even our two additions, Ember and Basil, they’ve all helped me realize that I need my friends just as much as they need me. I don’t think they know it, but I’d throw myself in front of a million dragons if it meant they were safe. They’ve changed my life, and I am forever grateful.

Do you believe in destiny?

Yes. Everyone has a destiny. Life is an ever-winding road leading you there. It’s impossible to avoid, but really, why would you? Destiny is what you were meant to do. Your destiny will see you at your very strongest and push you into greatness. One day I know I’ll reach mine. Until then, I’ll just get stronger and keep growing.

Are you a good cook?

I’m literally made of fire. Everything burns.

Surprisingly enough, though, Ember’s not a bad cook.

What do you think happens after you die?

Well, valiant warriors, those who give their lives for others and would fight ‘til their dying breath, those people go to Valhalla or Folkvangr to dine with the gods and prepare for Ragnarok. For others, Hel most likely awaits.

Did you have to grow up fast?

No. I was blessed with a good father and a good station. I was always mature for my age, but I know that’s not nearly the same thing.

Who do you look up to?

I’m not sure I really look up to anyone. I must carve my own path in this world.

When you go to a tavern, what do you order?

Usually something light, or nothing at all. Todd drinks enough for all of us.

What do you like most about yourself?

I’m persistent as hell. I’m also pretty hard to kill.

What do you like least about yourself?

Sometimes I get caught up and lose myself in my own competitive drive, and it causes me to lose my good judgement. *grins* I blame Cochann. He’s a bad influence. (She doesn’t really blame him. He is, however, a bad influence. Only sometimes, though.)

Are you a planner, or more spontaneous?

Spontaneous. If I make plans, I make them in the moment.

Can you keep a secret?

Absolutely.

Do you like being the center of attention?

Not usually. I tend to stay towards the back of most situations with Shortiss. Basil is far more fit for the attention, anyways.

If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what would you do today?

I wouldn’t do a single thing different. If I’m destined to die, I’ll go down fighting.

Do you enjoy getting all dressed up for a special occasion?

Not really, but polishing my armor and sharpening my blades gives me a similar feeling, I think.

Where do you feel safe?

With my friends. Sure, they can be annoying, but I know nobody has my back like they do. *laughs* Yes, even Todd.

Do you love or hate being alone?

At one point, I probably would’ve said I love it, but now I can’t imagine being without my friends.

What’s the last nightmare you remember having?

Well, I have horrific nightmares about what will happen if the Cult of the Dragons succeeds exactly every fifth night. That is what drove me to this quest anyways.

Do you admit to mistakes when you make them?

I try to.

Do you want to grow up to be like your parents?

No. My father was a good man, but I have my own destiny.

How do you deal with being sick? Are you stoic, or super whiny?

I legitimately cannot get sick.

What did your parents expect from you when you were born?

My father didn’t truly expect much from me. He always just told me I should strive to be good and do good.

Do you have a strong sense of style?

Fighting style, yes.

Would you rather camp outdoors or stay the night in an inn?

Depends. How good is the inn? What’s the weather like? I refuse to sleep in the rain. It messes with my hair. (We’ve decided she’s like a charmander and if the flame goes out, she, like, dies. Maybe not completely but Bad Stuff happens.)

Is there a food that most people like that you absolutely hate?

I’m pretty tolerable of most foods.

Are you more of a hoarder or a minimalist?

Minimalist. I don’t carry much.

Are you superstitious?

No. (Yes.)

Are you the kind of person who remembers people’s birthdays and pets’ names and stuff?

Absolutely. My mind is an iron lock. (No it’s not. She tries, though.)

What do you do to feel better when you’re sad?

I go to my friends. They always know how to cheer me up. Maybe some friendly competition with Cochann, sitting and chatting with Shortiss or Ember, or doing whatever the hell it is Basil and Todd normally do.

Is it hard for you to trust someone?

Not really. Unless it looks like they’ve got something to hide.

Are you susceptible to peer pressure?

No. Well, not on the things that matter.

If you decided to stop adventuring and settle down, what kind of job would you take?

I’m not sure. I would probably want to be a healer. Maybe find a village to protect. Honestly, though, I cannot see myself giving up this life. I’ve sworn an oath to Tyr. Every day must be spent making sure I follow through.

As a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

Truthfully, this. I wanted to be a noble adventurer who helped the innocent and did good deeds. I think if, back then, I’d known one day I’d slay a real dragon, well, I probably would’ve exploded from pure excitement.

[tzaya]

the switch - chap. 8

by tzaya

summary : she could’ve messaged him saying something came up, anything— so he could go home and tick it off on his list as an another unsuccessful attempt at love.

( shizuo/izaya // 1,571 words ) ♡ read all parts here .

“So, is the hospital closed or something?”

Shinra was far from happy to see him. He’d, apparently, interrupted Shinra’s favorite leisure activity of watching videos. Videos of Ikebukuro’s headless rider, of course. Shizuo couldn’t fathom the reason when Shinra literally shares a living space with her. Nevertheless, his friend welcomed him in, albeit with an expresion of displease marring his face.

“Y’know I can’t bring him there.”

Shizuo’s reputation wasn’t exactly favourable. The moment he steps foot into the hospital with an unconscious Izaya, the nurses would probably call the cops on him. There were witnesses back at the cafe who could vouch that he hadn’t laid a hit on Izaya, but he doubted any of them would do such thing. Besides, he’d imagine that their argument had already painted a bad picture of the situation.

Shinra sighed, bending forward to scrutinize Izaya. “What is the trouble this time? I don’t see any new injuries?”

“He just fainted. I didn’t do anything.” Shizuo laid Izaya down on the couch. Shinra raised a brow at that. He seemed intrigued.

“Why’d you help him then?”  

“Kinda felt bad for screaming in his face.”

Shizuo occupied himself with the decoration on Shinra’s kichen counter while Shinra examined Izaya. The little alien trinket must’ve been purchased by Celty. His best friend was fond, or should he say, obsessed with extraterrestials. Closer inspection revealed the trinket to be a salt shaker (well, he might’ve made a bit of a mess – white specks of salt were all over the back of his hand by now). He couldn’t wait to get home and take a shower after this long, tiring day.

“It’s exhaustion. It seems like he hasn’t been resting again,” Shinra said. The ‘again’ part meant that this was a normal occurence. Shizuo knew the informant job was demanding, but Izaya striked him as the type who prefers to play over working. He was always scheming some stupid plans whenever Shizuo saw him anyway, that was for sure.

A part of him wondered if Izaya was losing sleep to search up about Koyuki.

“He’ll be okay. I don’t take it as you’re willing to carry him back to Shinjuku?” Shinra added further. Shizuo shot down the hopeful request immediately.

“No.”

“Right, I expected as much,” Shinra laughed. He made his way to where Shizuo was perched on one of the stools, mumbling something about making tea. “Let’s talk about your date! Celty filled me in, but it’s always best to hear right from the source.”

“She was nice, I guess. I don’t know what I feel about her.” Shizuo decided to tell the truth.

Shizuo had originally perceived her as a sweet girl he could potentially be with for the two weeks they’d chatted online, but the actual date left him feeling wrong, somehow. He wasn’t sure if it was because Izaya had been there. Would it have been better if the date was normal from the get-go? Or would he still feel this way? The feeling of wanting to get closer, but something was blocking his path. It was confusing.

“Understandable. On the contrary, Orihara-kun seemed to hate her.”

Shinra had conveniently failed to mention that it wasn’t only Celty who’d filled him in on the story.

While Shizuo was still reeling from the newfound information, Shinra proceeded to talk, pouring hot water into the teapot. “He ranted a lot while he was over. I thought he needed something but his hand was already in a cast. He only came to complain about you. It was amusing to see him so worked up, though!”

“What’d he say?”

“That he couldn’t find anything about her? He said something about tapping into your phone.” There was a moment of silence once Shinra realized what’d just slipped from his mouth. “Oh. Oops.”

Shizuo avoided Celty’s odd-looking salt shaker, but a section of the marble counter was already turning into dust under his fist. Shinra made a face at the destruction. “He. Did. What,” Shizuo grinded his teeth.

“It’s one way to get information, I mean. Unethical, for sure, but Orihara-kun was never one to care about such thing. His own job requires him to go to extremes sometimes when digging for bits and pieces of information.”

Shizuo didn’t respond. It took everything in him to remain calm and not choke the unconscious patient resting on the couch. The fact that Izaya went through his phone was infuriating. It wasn’t that he had a lot of important files or photos stored in it (he’d rather avoid this, after the ‘accidental’ incidents of him crushing the device), but all the private messages he had with his friends and family? Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if Izaya could identify what Shizuo ate for breakfast this morning. It was toast, by the way. He’d mentioned it to Kasuka through text.

Aware of Shizuo’s inner turmoil, Shinra changed the topic a little. “Well? I heard he even dressed up for you?”

“Well what?” Shizuo exhaled angrily.

“Did you have fun being on a date with him?”

Shizuo crinkled his nose. He fixated his gaze on the drink Shinra had served him, and the way he could see light being reflected on the surface of the tea. Before Koyuki made her return, Izaya wasn’t a hundred-percent unbearable to be with. Though he couldn’t say for certain what kind of things Izaya was planning to do later into the night, had it continued to be only the two of them at the table.

“Wasn’t that bad. He cut the scallop for me.”

Shinra hummed in amusement. “I see you like partners who can pamper you! Good for you, Orihara-kun would probably spoil you given the chance. Though, maybe not with outright love declarations, but gifts and caring actions.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Shizuo grumbled. But thanks to the topic at hand, he could recall all that he and Izaya had talked about. “Ah, by the way, was he quiet back then? Said I could ask you.”

“Oh, he mentioned that? I only approached him because Celty told me I needed to make friends. It was a bit difficult to get through to him at first. He acted like his book was more interesting than me. That brings me to this, judging by the way you two preferred to be left alone, maybe you could’ve been good friends?”

It wasn’t easy to visualize Izaya as anything but his today asshole self. It was even harder to picture himself joking and laughing together with Izaya. What’d his life be like now if that was the case?  

“He’d probably like the book than me. ‘Sides, things are different now, can’t change it.” Shizuo scoffed. “And the flea had the audacity to say he likes me.”

“What do you mean?”

“The date. He was fuckin’ around and said he liked me. ”

Shinra sipped on his tea, the corners of his lips curled up slightly. It seemed as though something was on his mind, but he chose against announcing it. “I see. It’s not too late to be friends, though I harbor doubts that you two will get over your stubbornness.”

“Whatever. Not planning on getting chummy with someone like him.”

“I figured. Well, worth a try! As long as you two don’t inconvenience me further than what I’m used to, I won’t interfere.”

The ring of a call interrupted their conversation. They both patted down their pockets, shared a look, before turning towards the only other person in the house. The ringtone must’ve gone for a minute or two (the caller seemed persistent) until the repetitive noise began to irk him.

“I’ll get it,” Shizuo left his seat. Izaya was still out of it, unmoving even as Shizuo fished the phone from his pocket and answered the call. He didn’t bother glancing at the contact name beforehand – figured it wasn’t anyone he was acquainted with.

“Nakura-san, I’ve been outside the cafe but I can’t find you? Could you give me the description of the clothes you’re wearing?” The caller on the other end sounded like a male in his teens, Shizuo estimated. What was a high schooler doing calling Izaya? Did he need information too?

“Go home, kid.” Shizuo hung up before the other line could even get another word in. Hopefully this kid would understand that being involved with Izaya was dangerous. There must be safer ways to gather information than seeking help from an (crazy, he might add) informant.

“Who is it?” Shinra peered over.

“Fuck if I know,” Shizuo shrugged in response. He couldn’t access the phone to look at the caller’s contact information – the screen appeared to be locked with a four digit passcode. Now it wasn’t like he cared, but if Izaya had broken into his phone, it was only fair Shizuo gets to do the same, right? Plus, there could be information regarding Koyuki in this very device he held in his palm. “Oi. What’s his passcode?”

“Ah, even if he considers me as his friend, I wouldn’t know about this stuff. Orihara-kun is a very private person, but let me try.”

Shizuo passed the phone to Shinra. The passcode was wrong. However, the set of numbers Shinra keyed in seemed familiar. It took longer then necessary for him to recognize why. “Hey, that’s my birthdate–!”

“What a shame. I thought for sure this would work!”

“Why would it work, aah?!”

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

I promise I’m working on posts about today’s issues but I was informed of the events of Superior v2 #11 and felt I should chime in.

It’s...stupid.

Okay so I was planning on doing a post about this, but Gage in his Superior run has floated the idea that (the mind clone of a mind clone of a mind clone of) Otto is good now because in his new body he’s free of the mental disorder that made him evil.

Ya see the explosion back in ASM v1 #3 gave him brain damage and THAT’S the reason he’s been evil this entire time. But now he’s got a new body free of that brain damage he’s good!

And that is...complete horseshit.

Doc Ock wasn’t evil because an explosion made him evil, Doc Ock was evil because he was bullied by his school peers, bullied by his father, smothered by his overbearing and clingy mother, under appreciated by his peers as an adult, had to give up the love of his life because of his toxic relationship with his mother, felt betrayed by her when she exhibited a double standard, said betrayal led to a heated argument that gave her a lethal heart attack and THEN all this emotional/mental turmoil led to him making a mistake that gave him super powers.

In other words he wasn’t evil because an explosion rattled his brains. He was evil because his life had shaped him into an evil person, the explosion just gave him the final push over the edge. You could easily argue he might’ve turned evil without it altogether.

Plus if you have the memories and emotional connections to someone with brain damage does it really make much of a difference? Like you remember trying to nuke NYC and remember how you felt about that and that hasn’t changed so would having an undamaged brain even matter by that point? Psychologically wouldn’t it reach the same ends via a different means?

Now in fairness in this issue Gage has Mephisto bring up the notion that the whole brain damage thing might be bullshit so we are setting up for the possibility that Otto was full of shit...but we might also be setting up the idea that in actuality Otto was only evil because of a knock to the head which is dumb silver age writing we can forgive because it was actually made in the silver age.

The ball is in Gage’s court on this one but I don’t trust him at all.

Especially when one considers he kicked off Spider-Geddon #1 with Otto threatening the lives of innocent people merely to apply leverage to Count Nefaria. And he used the Inheritors’ cloning tech. And he joined fucking HYDRA! Brain damage my ass, he’s just an asshole!

There are other problems though.

Quite apart from proving further that spider-Geddon was one big set up arc for Gage’s solo series (thanks for wasting our time if we didn’t want to see that Gage), Otto’s logic here is faulty.

As Doc Ock he’s routinely had his ass kicked by Spider-Man, a highly intelligent, 2 armed super hero who typically uses restraint in battle, refraining from killing opponents 99% of the time.

And NOW he’s up against Norman Osborn as Spider-Man. Who has all the power of Spider-Man but is frankly even more intelligent, has SIX arms that can bench press at least 5 tons a piece, DGAF about restraint because he’s a sadistic asshole, has high tech gear that Peter didn’t usually use, has back up from another Spider-Man and has access to a lot of information on Otto.

So...how precisely is being in his original body with his original merciless mentality going to win this for him?

616 Norman Osborn, who was way less powerful than this version, already gave Doc Ock trouble back in Superior Team-Up #11-12 and as far as I know this Spideriffic version of Norman doesn’t have an easily exploitable chest wound that Otto can target.

Similarly 616 Norman owned Otto hard back when Otto was the Superior Spider-Man, which surely this version of Otto has researched.

Basically as Spider-Man Otto lost to 616 Norman and as Doc Ock he only really won against him because there was a huge weak spot for him to exploit.

This version of Norman lacks that weakness and is way stronger so how the Hell is being Doc Ock going to make a difference here realistically?

Couldn’t he just solve this problem by asking for back up from the Avengers or Peter or whoever? Hell he’s got a means to contact Mephisto but not like Doctor Strange????????????

Finally you have the inherent stupidity of ANYONE in the Marvel universe trusting Mephisto at all. Like as far as making deals with Mephisto are concerned there are hundreds of years proving over and over again that those are guaranteed to go badly. Not just that there are unforeseen side effects bad, but like there are unforeseen side effects AND the original thing you wanted will get wrecked too.

Remember Johnny Blaze? He wanted his father figure to be cured of a terminal illness. It worked...but then he died anyway and Johnny got possessed by a demon too.

And that happens with EVERY Mephisto deal EVER! And EVERYONE KNOWS THAT!

This isn’t a situation where if you are Johnny Blaze in his debut issue you are desperate enough to hope that folklore about the Devil is all guff.

By this point in time the supernatural is confirmed fact in the Marvel Universe. Fuck Doc Ock himself was literally resurrected by mystic ninjas (couldn’t he just think about using them to bring back the boy and the people he has to kill to save the boy?). There is no reason why anyone, especially not Otto, would seek to make a deal with Mephisto when they know for a fact it will backfire in the worst way possible.

But hey...aren’t I happy?

This is maybe going to fix Doc Ock so he is classic Doc Ock again and doesn’t have any of Peter’s memories!

Well first of all at this point that is wishful thinking.

Second of all Otto not remembering Peter’s memories doesn’t make sense since Mephisto said he’d still remember everything he’s lived through since taking Peter’s body. But if Otto experienced Peter’s memories then they are a part of HIS memories too at that point so how would he not remember Peter?????????

Third of all...this is still not Doc Ock. Even if he has his mind and body altered this is still nothing more than a clone of a clone (of another clone) of Doc Ock.

[fallingin-like]

november 15

like a hazy summer morning by shadowdreams [requested by @fuzzballsheltiepants]

see which other fics i’m reviewing this month! / my review request post!

this was an adorable and really sweet fic that has neil as a youtuber! and andrew can’t help but keep watching his videos. this is such a fun fic. you have to be logged into an ao3 account to read this.

this was a really cute fic that was an absolute delight to read. i love your characterization of andrew and neil so much and really enjoyed hearing all of andrew’s internal commentary and attempt to deny his love of neil. i also liked the glimpses of his relationships with nicky, aaron, and renee, and how although he’s similar to his personality in canon, his childhood/teenager years likely weren’t as difficult as in canon. 

parts i especially enjoyed:

”’actually, a low voice from outside the camera frame could be heard once the cheering had subsided, ‘the correct term is canyoning.’” oh my goodness is this kevin? this definitely is something that kevin would say. also i loved how you split up the dialogue into two parts, the pause because of it changed the tone of the way i read it which i thought was great

”andrew had been lying starfished across his bed for the past several hours, socked feet dangling over the edge and blinking slowly at the shadows on his ceiling as they crept over his room” ahhh as embarrassing as it is, i think you captured exactly how i spend my weekends (although i do alternate between watching youtube and reading fanfics, with breaks for food)

i really like the easy relationship that you have between the cousins, it demonstrates the differences and similarities to canon and how they all find a way to fit into each others lives.

ooh andrew in law school, what made you decide to make him do that? i think he’d be a decent lawyer, amazing memory, ability to quickly provide counter arguments, while refusing to take cases that he doesn’t agree with

”what an idiot” LOL

”(the guy was also really hot, so andrew was willing to give him a second chance.)” andrew minyard i love you so much (and also i love YOU, shadowdreams, for writing this sentence)

”if andrew was disappointed, it was because of the clashing colors, obviously.” andrew you are really not fooling anyone. 

”a change in the camera angle woke andrew up from his stupor. usually he wasn’t that pathetic. andrew blamed it on the fact that he hadn’t eaten since the chocolate chip pancakes this morning” ahh this whole paragraph is amazing. but very disappointed in his poor eating habits, so long without eating is bad ;-;

ohmygoodness i love that andrew is just sitting in a cafe watching youtube. also “after hiding in his apartment and taking on the lifeform of a blanket burrito” THE BEST

”(apparently they had really good pancakes, so andrew graciously skipped the customary ordeal of complaining before he agreed)” this is a great example of why i love your characterization of andrew so so much

ANDREW CLOSING WHATSAPP TO AVOID NICKY TALKING TO HIM MORE IS AMAZING. imagine being that petty. this is exactly something that andrew would do and exactly something nicky would bring up. also it’s just great to see that andrew even replies to nicky’s messages. he’s grown so well :”)

oh no! how did neil hurt his leg?

i cannot believe andrew really subscribed to neil’s channel and turned on notifications WHILE STILL DENYING IT WAS FOR ANYTHING BUT CONVENIENCE. an absolute legend at repressing his thoughts/emotions

ohmygoodness is the angry writer andrew???? OH HE DEFINITELY IS this is the best

”it actually wasn’t half-bad, so it was more out of principle that he continued to disagree with everything the guy said”

okay as much as i’m loving andrew, YOUR NEIL IS ADORABLE. him gushing about the angry writer!! the best. and andrew is totally jealous of angry writer!! you did a great job of writing that

”for the past two hours, he had been busy staring blankly at his laptop screen, managing to type a total of 5 words, one of which was underlined by the program and andrew couldn’t figure out why” why is this actually me??

OH MY GOODNESS THE WHOLE SCENE ON ANDREW AND NEIL MEETING IRL FOR THE FIRST TIME IS SO GOOD. i literally couldn’t get myself to stop reading to comment on specific parts. your pacing is great and i love the way you wrote it. the conversation they have is realistic. “not responding with ‘i know’ might’ve been andrew’s most impressive achievement in life” LOVED THAT oh my goodness i just realised this counts as a meet-cute!! [future me here: just read the tags and see you tagged as a meet-cute LOL] WONDERFUL

the last chapter did an amazing job of wrapping everything up. so proud of andrew to hear that he got an internship. love that it’s not totally clear neil is sending andrew an audio message until the end of the chapter.

your commentary from andrew’s perspective was funny and engaging, i was always excited to see how he would react to things that neil did. you did a great job of keeping things interesting, i didn’t even realise i had read 7.4k words until i reached the end! i’d love to see how you think that neil would incorporate his life with andrew into his videos (i can imagine andrew refusing the show his face on camera) and how they manage neil’s travelling with andrew’s school/work. i had such a good time reading this fic, thank you so much for writing it!!