#again he was DIRECTLY addressing anger at me and this other kid in class very aggressively and it was very scary to experience

[lucemxnox]

today's class just reaffirmed that some people REALLY should never be teachers, especially in k-12 education. dude fully was just incredibly disrespectful, rude, and argumentative during a roundtable discussion, cut people off multiple times, and directed his anger at me and another classmate strongly that it made the class all uncomfortable. if you can't handle a simple discussion without blowing up in anger, how the hell can you teach students whose identities you don't support? how will you handle any POC kids in your class if you blow up in a GRAD SCHOOL CLASS including at THE PROFESSOR stating his beliefs that historic racism strongly contributes to issues today in politics? and you wanna teach history????? to KIDS??? just freaking wild dude.

[doberbutts]

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was beaten by his father so savagely that he went deaf, while his father’s girlfriend watched and did nothing?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was abandoned and locked inside an empty apartment until the 1950s equivalent of CPS was tipped off he was there and took him to save him from starvation, because dear old grandpa and his girlfriend at the time didn’t want a defective child once they figured out they’d permanently fucked him up?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he bounced from foster home to foster home until he was held down and raped by one of his foster brothers, tried to tell his foster mother, and she just called him a faggot and left it at that?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was finally reunited with his mother and had to scrape together a living by eating stale bread and running errands for what turned out to be local gangs, because she was too poor to feed another mouth?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he watched a black man shot by police bleed out in the street?

Where was my father’s male privilege when teachers who should have caught his deafness instead made him believe he was failing his classes because he was stupid because that’s just how black people are?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he got the tar kicked out of him by his white classmates who felt emboldened by their female teacher’s anti-black racism?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he brought the subject of racism up with the school board after a cross was lit on fire on his desk, and he was dismissed by both male and female staff?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he struggled to find a job after completing college, completing a master’s degree, which he paid for exclusively with scholarships earned from his competitive essay writing, because no one wanted to hire a disabled black man?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was accused of assault by a white female student who could not keep her story straight and eventually admitted she had made it up because she wanted to put her black principal back in his place?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was violently cuffed and illegally searched while I sat in the carseat and he was forced to comfort me through the window?

Where was my father’s male privilege when his wife, my mother, was immediately disowned by her entire family for associating herself with him? When she was forced to make a choice between a future with him, or her family? When he sees this echo with his children, and my sister’s children have still never met my brother-in-law’s family despite more than 10 years of marriage?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he came to pick us up from school and my school refused to let him in until the cops verified he was exactly who he said he was? Despite his name matching his ID, the lanyard he wore stating he was a principal at a nearby school, and the name on the school registry as being one of my parents? Despite me being called into the office to peek through the blinds at him and verifying that yes, this was my father?

Where was my father’s male privilege as neighbors who protested living near a black man repeatedly called the police on him as he pulled into the driveway of the house he’s lived in since I was born, let himself in with his own key, with ID to match the address and having known these neighbors by first name? To the point my white-passing mother had to diffuse the situation?

My father is straight and cis. My father is black and disabled. My father is a survivor. My father is a lot of things, and I have a lot of complicated feelings about him, but he is not trash. He has not skated through life as though it’s easy. His life was significantly harder than my mother’s, and her life wasn’t easy either. He has been hurt by men. He has been hurt by women. Some of the instances he has been hurt, my mother was directly sheltered from because she is a woman.

Her father was also an angry drunk, but deliberately did not take his anger out on his daughters, preferring to beat his son bloody instead. Mom has the trauma of watching her father beat the piss out of her brother and having to patch him back up after, but never of having been beaten herself.

Mom found herself in compromising and dangerous positions at times, but was protected from physical harm by her brother and the other men around her who saw it as their duty to protect the girls from that sort of thing. Literally the only good thing about rural purity culture.

Mom has a history of speaking out against racism and discrimination when she sees it, but has never needed to throw a punch in her life, because there was always a man around to protect her from the resulting fight. The men might not have agreed with her views on race but they were connected to her and thus duty/honor bound to protect her if someone tried to jump her because she wouldn’t let them beat up the black kid or told them to stop bothering the asian kid.

Mom never once had to stop and consider that it would be kinder to her partner to break things off.

Mom has never been falsely accused of assault because it’s just assumed that women don’t do that.

Mom has never been accused of trying to kidnap us because it’s believable that a white woman has mixed race kids that are darker than her but inconceivable that a black man has mixed race kids that are lighter than him.

Mom has never had the police called on her for entering her own house in their very white neighborhood.

Mom has only been pulled over once in her life, and the cop was far more interested in what my sisters and I were doing in her car than anything she might have potentially done.

My mother is straight and cis. She is also a white-passing POC and disabled. My mother is a survivor. My mother is a lot of things, and I have a lot of complicated feelings about her, but even she admits that her life was easier than my dad’s.

Cis, straight men suffer. White men suffer. My uncle is also a white-passing POC and a survivor. Do you know how much pent up anger he has? Still has, even though my grandfather changed and got better and apologized and owned up to his wrongs? Even though my grandfather’s been dead for years now? My uncle is sullen and prefers a bottle to take away his pain, pain he’s not been able to process, not been allowed to process, and he’s been that way since he was a child, which is not surprising considering what I’ve been directly told the beatings entailed... and things are always worse than what you’re told when it comes to that.

And all of that anger and resentment and rage and pain builds and builds until one of his sisters pokes him a little too hard about it and then he roars at them and storms off and he knows it’s wrong to take it out on them and he knows it’s not fair and that they only mean well but it hurts and he knows no other outlet besides lashing out because that was the only thing he was ever taught. Men get drunk and then get angry and then get violent. So he stops himself at yelling because he knows he can’t hit in anger, and he leaves and bangs doors behind him and stomps off until he calms down.

And you can say “dude needs therapy” and you know... you’re not wrong. But why would he ever seek it? When he sought help as a child he was told to be a man and suck it up and harden and grow some balls. His mother didn’t intervene to help him. You know, I know, he knows it’s because she was afraid her husband would turn on her. But it still hurts to know your own mother let your own father do that to you. Repeatedly. Over and over and over again. The most help he ever got was some first aid from his sisters when my grandfather decided he was done being angry. His teachers just knew him as an angry, sullen boy who frequently got into fistfights with other angry, sullen boys and chalked new bruises up to that. 

If you grow up like this, betrayed by everyone who is supposed to help you, then why would you ever consider seeking outside help as an adult?

And if your reaction is- see? He is a violent man! He is part of the problem! He could seek help and won’t because he is a stubborn man that wants to make his problems into women’s problems by relying on his sisters!

Then you fail to understand that my uncle is the way he is because of unprocessed, repeated trauma and betrayal that he was actively discouraged from seeking help to free himself of the cycle and start to heal. And his sisters were the only people in his life that did not harm him in that way, so at this point his sisters and his wife are the only people he trusts when triggers get poked and the pot boils over.

He does need therapy. He’s not likely to ever seek it out. And it’s because he was born a boy that this happened to him, and it’s because he was born a boy that no one was willing to help when he needed it most.

These men are not part of the queer community. They still were made vulnerable, and needed help, and did not get any, because of that same logic that drives these feelings about men not needing to be helped or included or assisted today. It’s not progressive just because the logic is coming from the queer community this time instead of conservative christians.

[whetstonefires]

Do you think the DC fandom maybe, Infantilizes Tim a little too much? Like for a rich kid character who's main trauma for a long time was a getting left home alone too much there's an oddly amount of meta abt how much how much his parents hurt him~ compared to, y'know the two poor characters who grew up with physically abusive dad's+druggie mom's, or the two that were raised assassin cult's, etc

…well, yeah, I do kind of think that? His whole schtick for so long was being too old for his age in ways that didn’t sacrifice his jokey, relatable teenager energies. It’s weird how little of that we see anymore, sometimes.

And then DC broke him and discarded him and he’s sort of awkwardly hanging around getting reimagined as more woobie with every fan generation. It is weird!

But tbh I do get it. And I think the reason his parents’ failure of him and his vulnerability get played up so much, and Jason and Steph’s sufferings (while used a lot for things like motivation and context) not dwelt on quite so much in the same lugubrious style, are kind of the same reason.

Which is that canon didn’t commit to it. Jason and Steph’s experiences with bad parenting were foregrounded and retconned more dramatically awful several times. (There’s some definite classism in how that was approached imo, and I’m never budging on being mad about DC retconning out Catherine being sick and then ignoring her forever in all Jason characterization because a drug death invalidates a person ig, great message during the opioid crisis guys.)

They engaged and coped with it–Steph (and Cass, our #1 canon batfam parental abuse victim) pretty directly, Jason a little less so because of the dubious and fluctuating canon status of most of the content more specific than ‘poverty, homelessness, theft, parental drugs and crime in there somewhere,’ so most of his parent issues have been focused on Bruce. He sure has dug into them tho. 😂 Rarely well or productively, thanks DC, but it’s explicitly part of his character, is my point.

Whereas upper-middle-class Tim was always treated by the narrative as fortunate and unharmed by his experiences with his parents. Even though they were clearly behaving badly in several ways, and Tim showed signs of being harmed by it.

Tim outside of immediate moments of frustration always was of the opinion he was Fine, and Very Fortunate Actually.

Therefore a huge chunk of the numerous everyone who’s got parent-related mental and emotional harm, but has struggled to have that validated and hasn’t responded with a lot of anger toward the parent, identifies with Tim. The only one who’s never really lashed out at his parents for fucking up with him. The one who still needs it explored, because canon ultimately didn’t.

[editing post to put in a readmore because lol it’s long, post otherwise unchanged]

(Dick obviously didn’t ever have any Issues with the Graysons, but he Angry Teenagered at Bruce so hard it changed Bruce’s characterization permanently, rip.)

The things Jason, Steph, and Cass have been through are dramatic, obvious, and fit stereotypes because that’s what they’re based on.

That’s important content to have, but because it’s right out there in your face even people who identify with it quite a lot are less likely to feel the need to work all the way through it again in fanworks. That part’s there. It’s text.

(Well actually Jason having been physically abused kind of wasn’t? I think? It was mostly assumed on the basis of stereotyping and Jason’s not caring about the man much even as he felt possessive of information about his death, which is valid. I don’t actually know what’s up with Willis now, Lobdell did some weird shit that lacked emotional resonance or staying power because he’s Lobdell and has no soul.

Cass’ wandering years are also ludicrously underdeveloped. But very very few comics fans or writers can personally relate to being amazing child warriors with no grasp of language living feral under bridges. That part of her life is consistently represented in terms of absences, in terms of its deviation from the norm and the deficits of normality it left her with, which is typical but unfortunate.) 

-

The interesting things to do with these characters are often informed by the bad stuff in their childhoods, but there’s relatively rarely that much more to say about the fact that those things were bad. They know they’re bad. They’ve had a lot of on-panel rage about it, as discussed above. Steph and Cass both beat the shit out of their dads.

Jason is, in fandom especially, a sort of Platonic ideal of a kid who’s mad about his bad childhood and really bad at figuring out where to point that rage.

(Damian is a whole other kettle of fish, because he’s been lumbered by so many detailed retcons coming so fast no two people can seem to construct compatible models of what his early childhood was like, and even more because he’s still ‘a child’ enough that he’s necessarily in a different stage of processing than someone who’s officially only a few years older than him at this point, but still functionally 8 and also 20 years older, and whose parents are no longer in the picture to continue screwing up.

Also there’s no question that if he brings up an abusive thing the League did, he will be validated by his current environment about his realization that it was in fact bad. There’s a lot of fic on that theme! But it doesn’t have the same tone precisely because it is usually understood that that support will be there if he wants it. Realizing that his previous context contained things that were wrong keeps being made the focus of his arc.)

The badness of Tim’s childhood, on the other hand, was mainly in subtext. Even when we were clearly meant to understand Jack was fucking up, like when he canceled plans with Tim at the last minute to go on a date with Tim’s stepmother, or that infamous time he came to apologize for not being a great parent and got mad Tim was distracted by a crisis on TV so he flew into a rage and took the TV and smashed it and was like ‘that’ll teach you,’ it wasn’t leaned into.

The story didn’t treat Jack as a minor villain to be overcome but like a sort of environmental hazard of childhood, like homework, to be endured and coped with. Tim said things like ‘it’s fine’ and ‘at least he left the computer.’

(And like. It’s not about having a TV and computer in his room. It’s about not letting a child have boundaries, pointedly not respecting a child’s possessions, creating an emotionally insecure environment, punishing minor infractions in proportion to their momentary impact on your own ego, physically lashing out at a proxy for the child…)

Rather like Tom King later didn’t understand about the punching from Bruce, whoever did that story (probably Dixon? I don’t care enough to check) did not understand how serious a case of bad parenting that scene was. That is most definitely textbook abusive behavior. (It’s a hell of a lot more common abusive behavior than being a lame supervillain or shooting you when you screw up, and a lot more specific than ‘was a thug, might have hit me, dead now.’)

And Tim was never allowed to be mad at his parents about it. It was fine. He needed to be ignored so he had the freedom to be Robin. He deserved his dad being mad at him because he was keeping secrets. He complained too much, although objectively he did not.

The universe punished him for ‘complaining,’ more than once. We cut straight from him shunting aside his disappointment that his postcard from his parents was just to say they weren’t coming home yet after all with ‘if it will stop all the fights they’ve been having lately it’s more than fine’ to them getting kidnapped.

He agreed not to come on the rescue mission. His mom never made it home, and his dad was in a coma for a while. And then ultimately Jack died as a result of Tim’s decision to be Robin, immediately after finally deciding to accept it.

So Tim walks around feeling a huge burden of responsibility for his parents’ deaths, and completely unable to process any hurt they did him as real or valid, especially in comparison with the far more blatant awfulness other people have been through, and canon is clearly never going to address it. Or even acknowledge it properly.

Let me repeat that because it’s kind of my main point:

People are fixated on getting Tim’s emotional abuse validated because that’s an incredibly important step in recovering from emotional abuse, and it’s one canon consistently denied him.

How ‘bad’ things are ‘in comparison to’ problems other people have is a bad and unhealthy way to engage with trauma. Okay? That’s just a really harmful framework to apply to pain.

It’s also a way that both Tim and people with experiences similar to Tim’s are encouraged to engage with their own experiences, compounding the existing problems.

So. Not a form of relatable DC was ever actually aiming for when they tried so hard (and pretty effectively) to make him a relatable character as Robin, but an enduring one for a lot of fans.

-

So Tim’s childhood is a natural target for fanworks in a different way than the traumas that have been made explicit and taken seriously by the text. And then a lot of that got compounded by the way the introduction of Damian as Robin was handled, and the lack of resolution that got. And his current status as not quite having a place in the family anymore.

So between the level of projection encouraged by that context and how relatively difficult to access Tim’s Robin run has become ten years after the fact, this has led to a lot of fanworks on these themes that are based mostly on other fanworks, and stray further and further from the original content.

So at this point there’s an entire wing of Tim’s fandom wherein this side of him has expanded enormously, and he primarily exists to suffer, frequently in ways that 1) escalate to a point that is inarguably ‘valid’ and hard to dismiss and 2) set him up to rebound from it in whatever way the writer finds emotionally satisfying or useful–being ultimately cared for and reassured by people who value him (the most infantilizing option but like, popular for obvious reasons), or unveiling his brilliant scheme that was causing him to pretend to be passive in the face of mistreatment, or turning around and using his genius ninja skills to wrest power back from his abusers, or just laying down some sick burns about being treated fairly.

But not that many of the last one, because that’s mostly done with other batfam members.

Tim’s become a vehicle for a lot of vicarious coping that Steph and Jason just aren’t appropriate for, because they get angry and they get even. And those are stories that exist already, so there’s less scope for telling your own.

And because Jason’s reaction pattern is ultimately so masculine (i’ll make them all sorry! with my guns! blam blam!) while Tim’s is pretty gender-neutral, the demographics of fanfic mean that the bulk of the people using Tim vicariously in this manner are female-aligned, which has over time feminized this archetype of him a lot. Sometimes in ways I find really uncomfortable, like there’s a lot of forced pregnancy stuff which activates my panic buttons. x.x

But, ultimately, it’s fandom. People are going to do what they’re going to do, DC in their perpetual fail has hung Tim out to dry in narrative terms, and I’d rather the people who are using Tim for victimization narratives over the people who can’t dismiss or discredit him fast enough now that his position has been filled. 🤷‍♀️ What we gonna do? Fave’s in an awkward spot. DC hates us. This is the life in this comic book pit. XD

-

Also if you’re the same anon who left me a callout about op of that weird Steph post in my inbox, or if you aren’t @ that person, 1) I refuse to get involved so I’m not answering that ask 2) those aren’t even particularly dramatic fandom crimes? That’s pretty normal? That’s just…Caring Too Much About Ships And Disagreeing With Me.

Do I also feel those opinions are kinda bad? Yeah. But I disagree with everyone about something. Chill.

[addictofsupernatural]

OHSHC Rewrite: Episode 2

The Job of a High School Host!

Host Club x reader

Summary: Y/n learns the duties of a host.

Word Count: 4.9k

Episode Masterlist

You've been a host for almost two weeks now. It's been interesting, to say the least. Tamaki and the twins have been trying to get you into a dress since you put on the school uniform, but you cleaned the male uniform and refused all their demands.

Maria got letters from your friends back in y/c, to which she wanted to surprise you by putting them in your bag. You didn't notice them at school, and you didn't notice them when they were sticking out during homeroom.

But Hikaru and Kaoru did. Once the class was over, the three envelopes fell out of your backpack, though you kept walking. They looked at each other and nodded. Hikaru them and went on and they both went on with their day.

After doing your homework you rushed into the club room, only to see very real tropical decorations everywhere. The hosts had luau outfits on as well. "Welcome."

"This is different." You stated as you stepped in, looking around.

"Of course!" Tamaki posed as he talked. "It might be early fall but here at the Host Club we'd like our guests to feel as if they're in a tropical paradise. And plus, our heating system is... perfect!"

You gave him a slight look at his bragging, to which Kyoya smiled a bit. "Do you have a problem with the way we run our club y/n? Remember, you still owe us 8 million yen."

You set your bag down on your spot. "Charming." You said sarcastically, passing by him and giving him a sly smile. "I feel very free to speak my mind, really. So was this tropical island thing your idea?"

"All ideas dealing with the host club events come directly from the king. Although I will admit to casually slipping a Bali pamphlet onto his desk." He kept his smile as he continued writing in his book.

"Of course. Well someone should tell the king that he's really clever." You patted his arm before going and sitting down with your clients. "Good afternoon ladies—"

The twins each blew a whistle and marched over to you. "Hold it right there!" They said in unison. "Who's Julian?!"

You turned over to them, a bit surprised at the mentioning of that name. "What do you mean?"

"Three envelopes fell out of your bag, and one was from a boy named Julian." Kaoru said.

They then got very close to you, asking, "So who's Julian?!"

"An old friend." You shrugged, putting out your hand for the letters. They gave them back to you, but also gained the attention of Tamaki.

"How good of a friend is he?" He zoomed right behind your couch.

You didn't know why Tamaki was so territorial of his friends, but you knew there must be a reason. That didn't mean you couldn't still have fun with him. You fake sighed lovingly. "He's the best."

"Is he... handsome?"

"He has an adorable face. I love it so much!"

"You love it?" You gave you his puppy dog eyes.

"Yup."

"Do you have... feelings... for him?"

"Oh, I'm only totally in love with him."

"WHA~T?!" He then wrapped you in a hug. "But you're my little girl~"

You sighed again. "Yeah. It's too bad you're more his type."

"Huh?"

He blankly stared at you, and you bursted into a fit of giggles. "He's gay, so calm down."

"Oh." He then stood up and cleared his throat. "Well then, that's one less man to worry about. You don't know how many evil boys there are in the world, so you have to be careful."

"Yeah, I should also be careful of weird people who call themselves 'daddy'." An arrow struck through Tamaki as you walked over to the twins. "Thanks for holding onto these for me." Your smile made them blush. "And thank you for not opening them, since you guys are pretty nosey."

"We don't know what you're talking about." They both said as they shrugged.

"But y/n," Kaoru started saying.

"Why don't you open them for us?" Hikaru finished.

You scoffed. "Please guys, I'm working." You then turned to your clients as they sighed, smiling. "I'm sorry girls. What did you want to talk about?"

"Well, we were wondering if you were going to dress up in something tropical."

"Do you all want me to?" You asked, unsure if you wanted to go through with that.

"Yes!" They said happily.

Tamaki then appeared with a smile. "I already made you an outfit y/n. And look, we're a pair! Isn't it cute?"

You frowned. "You know I don't really like skirts."

He then showed you his big watery eyes. "But Kyoya gave you a dress and you accepted it no problem."

"He was doing it to be nice. You're doing this because you want to see me in a dress. That's weird."

He looked like he was going to burst from anger. He then pushed the outfit into your hands. "Just go change!"

You then changed into the shoulderless top with the long skirt, which also accompanied a lot of jewelry. You then went out and tried to discreetly go back to your clients. "Oh my goodness y/n, you're so cute!" One exclaimed.

"Y/N~" Tamaki jumped over to you and crushed you into a hug. "Everybody, look!"

"Let's not please." You whispered. Your face went red as you frustratedly looked to the ground.

"Wow." The twins said, grabbing your arms.

"Who knew y/n," Kaoru said.

"Could be such a girl." Hikaru finished.

"Looks cute." They said, giving you a thumbs up.

"Please stop drawing in more attention." You said quietly.

"Takashi~ look!" Honey dragged you over to them. "Doesn't she look adorable?"

"Yeah."

Tamaki and the twins had evil stars in their eyes as they inched closer to you. You didn't notice the blush on Mori's face when you went to go hide behind him. The three then shouted, "Give her to us!"

Mori shook his head and took your shoulders, guiding you to your couch.

"Thank you senpai." You said quietly. You then put your hands over your face. You peaked at your smiling clients. "Okay, I did this for you guys."

"How do you feel in cosplay?"

"Exhausted!" You put your hands to your side quickly only to begin shaking your arms, hearing the jewelry jingle as you moved. They began to giggle at your innocent and child-like movements. "Jeez, what's with this?"

"Y/n, you forgot your crown!" Tamaki stuck it out towards you as an offering.

You took a deep breath and drank some tea, not looking at him. "If it's worth more than me I'm not wearing it."

He gave you an angrily confused look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not putting something ridiculous and way too expensive on my head. I don't even feel comfortable in this. It feels like I'm lowering the value of it by just wearing it." Your tone was a sarcastic one, which caused smiles from around your area. Though it was a joke, you were only half-kidding.

"Excuse me." A girl came up to you and said. "I believe we're supposed to be switching hosts now."

"Oh, you must be my next appointment." You grinned, waving to her childishly even though she was right in front of you. "It's nice to meet you."

She then grabbed your chin and brought your face closer to hers. "I've just decided. You're going to be my new favorite host." This seemed to effect Tamaki.

Once the club finished everything, you walked over to go change until Kyoya stopped you. "Your words with Tamaki seemed to amuse some of the guests, and many of those guests have requested you."

"Cool. I guess my clownery is likable." You chuckled and nodded.

Clownery. What an odd made up word. He thought about what his clients told them about you. You spoke with slang, though it almost as if you didn't realize it. They said that they found it adorable. Your speech being adorable. It was an interesting thought, in its own way.

Once you put back on your uniform, Kyoya instructed you to make Tamaki some instant ramen. You did so and finished cleaning. Once you finished that you sat down and noticed that Tamaki was irritated.

"C'mon boss, quit eating that commoner's ramen and help plan the party." Kaoru said.

"What's up with him?" You asked.

"He's just upset with Lady Kanako choosing you." Kyoya said as he typed away on his laptop. "She's had the illness for a while now though, so I don't know why he's too surprised."

"What disease?"

"The host hopping disease." The twins said.

You giggled, grinning. "So he's jealous that I stole her from him."

"Shut up! I couldn't care less!" Tamaki yelled. "That's it, my patience has run out. It's time you started dressing like a girl!"

"That's really what's bothering you?"

"I just don't get it. How can you be so popular with the ladies when you yourself are a lady?!" He then went into his private chest, digging though it. "Now you listen to daddy. DADDY WANTS YOU TO GO BACK TO THE WAY YOU WERE AND KEEP WEARING SKIRTS!!"

He brought out a huge framed photo of you in a high and tight half pony tail, which contrasted your usually messy pony tail. You were wearing a cropped long sleeved dark gray shirt, with a black skirt and dark panty hose under.

"DON'T GO BLOWING UP MY PHOTOS WITHOUT ASKING ME FIRST!!"

He hung it up on the wall and began crying. Everybody crowded around it.

"The more I look at this photo the more amazed I am." Kaoru said. "How did you go from that to wearing suits?"

Everyone turned to look at you. "I used to have a neighbor who owned a Burlesque lounge. Sometimes she needed someone to cover a waitress shift, and I would do it. This was the most covered up she would allow me to be though."

"I see." Kyoya said. "Those places are known for having women reveal a large amount of skin."

"I wore that stuff cause I had to. I feel more comfortable not showing my legs. I don't care if I dress like a dude sometimes."

"A GIRL SHOULD NEVER ADDRESS HERSELF AS A DUDE!!" Tamaki yelled. "MAMA~!! Y/n's using those dirty boy words again."

"I hate to break up this interesting conversation, but do you have any formal dancing experience?" Hikaru asked.

You turned and smiled nervously. "No, but I don't have to go to parties and stuff, right?"

Tamaki's eyes began to shine. "I absolutely forbid that. You must go to every event hosted by the host club if you want to pay back your debt! If you fail to do so, you'll be demoted back to errand boy" He then got a lot happier. "And that also means you have to wear a dress at the party!"

"No it's cool, I have a formal guy outfit." They all stared at you. "What? I got it when I had to go to a wedding."

"Why won't you wear something like thi~s?" Tamaki said with tears in his eyes.

"Cause it was for a job."

"This is a job!"

"No, this is indentured servitude. There's a difference. Slight, but it's there." You then briefly thought. "Oh, I guess that also means I have to learn the man's part since I'm a host."

Kanako was instructing you what to do, and you were getting the hang of it quickly. "You're quite a fast learner miss y/n."

"And you're quite an exceptional teacher Miss Kanako." Your gaze went to Tamaki, who looked sad. He wanted to teach you, but was too tall to be in the girl role. He glanced over to you, and you smiled and waved. He hesitantly gave you a small smile and waved back. Because of this you weren't paying attention tripped up the both of you. "I'm so sorry Lady Kanako!"

She pulled you closer. "That's quite alright."

"You're very forward." You smiled down at her before rolling to the side and pulling the both of you up. "C'mon, let's get you some tea."

You brought her tea as she happily held onto the cup. "You have a new order for tea sets I see. The handy work looks like it's Genorie."

"You have a keen eye mademoiselle." Kyoya said as he passed by.

"Such a pretty color." She gazed into the tea cup with a smile. "How lovely."

"Woah, you seem to know a lot about tea sets, huh?" You asked. This, unbeknownst to you, gained Tamaki's attention.

"What? Of course not!" She said shakily, blushing. "What ever would give you that idea?!"

Just then someone walked in with a box in hand. "You ordered a new tea set?" He asked Kyoya as he walked over to him.

"Yes we did. Y/n, come over and grab these." Kyoya said.

You nodded and smiled at him as he gave you the box. You opened the lid and looked at the set. "Wow, these are really nice. Are you an expert on things like this?"

Kanako began laughing. "Oh y/n, you're so out of the loop. It can be pardoned though." She turned back with a teasing smile. "After all, he doesn't look like an heir to a first class industry empire."

His facial expression changed as he looked at her. You noticed but decided not to say anything.

"The Susushima family has dealt mainly with table wear." Kyoya explained. "They are, in fact, a first class company."

"I think that's so awesome! You seem to have a lot of passion into what you're going to be doing, which is very admirable." You told him with a small smile.

He turned to you and bashfully smiled. "You think so? I'm honored. Well, see you all next time."

After he left and you walked back to Kanako with the box still in hand. "He's pretty handsome, don't you think?" You asked in your native language.

"Um, pardon?"

"Oh, sorry." You cleared your throat. "I'm asking if you think he's attractive."

She blushed profusely and nervously sipped on her tea. "I don't know! I suppose!"

"I get the feeling you two know each other."

She spat out her tea and began to panic again. "What would ever give you that silly conclusion? I have no idea what you're talking about! Anyways, take care!" She quickly left.

You stood up right before Honey jumped onto your back, almost knocking the box out of your hands. "Y/n-chan~! Guess what? They do know each other! Suzushima-chan is Kasuga-chan's fiance."

"Woah, really?"

"Kyoya," Tamaki said. "What do you know about this?"

He looked in his book. "They were childhood friends. Their parents set up an arranged marriage between them. I didn't find this information of any importance so I disregarded it."

"And what do you know of Suzushima?"

"Toro Suzushima. Outstanding grades, bare social status. Ordinary looking. He's reliable, in case of persuasion to place blame."

"He doesn't have much presence and is faint hearted." The twins said.

"In order words, he's boring." Kyoya closed his book.

"Wow," You said. "Who knew you guys were so cold to other men."

"We don't have any use of him so there's no reason to be nicer in describing him." Kyoya explained.

"Interesting philosophy." You said teasingly. "I can feel the kindness radiating off of you."

"Suzushima is a good boy." Honey said, on top of Mori. "Right?"

"Yeah." Mori replied.

"Alright men! It's time for a plan!" Tamaki announced. "It's our job at the Ouran Host Club to make every woman happy!"

When Tamaki finished explaining his plan, everybody packed up and left, leaving only Kyoya and you. He had just finished on his laptop and was packing up his things. You walked behind him. "Senpai, is it okay if I ask you a question?"

"Is it about what I said earlier?" He didn't turn around.

"Kind of. I mean, if we're talking about the same thing." You kept your voice steady and light.

"Was it what I said about not needing Suzushima?"

"Woah, no. Not at all. I was thinking about how you did a background check on him."

He paused briefly. "I see. What of it?"

Your voice unintentionally shrank. "Did you do one on me?"

"Yes. A few days ago, in fact. You fail to mention your brother when people ask about your history." His voice was so calm and normal. It made you feel very exposed.

"Everything I've said isn't a lie." You managed to say firmly.

"I know that as well. I understand your situation and I respect your reasonings for not talking about him. You've been through quite a lot, and you have a right to privacy."

"Please answer this next question honestly." His silence meant that he was still listening. "Do you think of me any lower or less, I don't know, appealing, now that you know everything about me?" You then nervously chuckled. "Unless it was already that low to begin with."

"I assure you that my views of you are of a hard working person who seems to make many people happy. Not wanting people to know certain things about you and having certain insecurities do not waver what I 'think' of you."

You let out a breath and grinned, hugging him from the back. He widened his eyes, but didn't tense nor pull away.

"Thank you Kyoya senpai. This really means a lot." You then let go of him. "Okay, I need to walk home before it gets dark. See you tomorrow." You then quickly went to the door. "Sorry if that hug was weird for you!" You called out as you left.

His opinions mattered to you. It was an interesting thought, in its own way.

As you were getting ready for the party, Maria came into your room. "Can't you be at least a bit girly?"

"Funny, that's really funny Maria." You turned to face her and sat down. "You're quite the tomboy yourself sometimes."

"I'm serious y/n/n. You should try a little makeup. You'll look nice for all your friends. One of them is bound to fall for you." She said in an offering tone.

You chuckled and shook your head. "They're all just friends. And I shouldn't have to try to impress anybody."

She sighed, going over to your nightstand and opening a drawer. She took out a black box and opened it, revealing the earrings you got back after your father was imprisoned. "At least wear one of your mom's earrings. They all look cute on you."

You looked in the box. She loved to collect them. "I don't know, maybe."

She grabbed your cheeks and smushed them. "Think about it." You grabbed her cheeks and did the same. "I also have something to tell you."

"Good or bad?"

She hesitated before quickly saying, "My sisters are coming for a few days to visit." And then sped walked out of the room.

"What?!" You followed her. "Please tell me Linda's son won't be coming too." She gave you a look, and that was all you needed to know. "Oh my gosh, I'm going to my club. That's gonna be my safe space for now."

"At least you have a safe space. I'll have to deal with Linda 24/7."

You then went back into your room and hesitantly grabbed a pair of earrings, putting them in your pants pocket. "I gotta go. I should start walking now."

She stopped you. "Take off the blazer at least." You took off the blazer with a pout. She then pulled off your messy ponytail. "Do something better with your hair too." You tied up two messy double buns. "There. You look adorable. Go."

You got there and joined all except Tamaki at the second floor in the auditorium. "Welcome, my little lambs," Tamaki said from the third floor. "To a magical night of your lives!"

Kyoya then spoke up. "As always ladies we are here for your enjoyment. Dance to your heart's content. The best dancer will be decided among us hosts and will be crowned queen. As a reward the queen will receive a passionate kiss on the cheek from our king, Tamaki Suoh. Good luck to all you."

They all began cheering, and you snickered over the stupidity of the 'prize'. The twins came over to you and began playing with your buns.

"These are cute." Hikaru said.

"You have a raggedy yet carefree look. The hairstyle compliments you." Kaoru told you. "Hey, have you ever been to a party before?"

"Not formal parties. Only block parties on my street."

"Well, since you're here y/n, you might as well enjoy yourself." Kyoya said. "We have quite the spread of desserts."

You then innocently asked, "Like squishy ice cream?"

"SQUI—"

"—SHY—"

"—ICE CREAM?!"

Tamaki flipped down to your floor and pointed to Kyoya, who was already dialing a number on his phone. "Kyoya! Order some squishy ice cream right away!"

"Two orders of mochi please." He said to his phone. The twins smothered you in a hug as your face burned from embarrassment. You felt like such an idiot foreigner right now.

In the meantime you danced with some girls, being flamboyant and silly when dancing with them. There was one girl who tripped over your shoes and almost fell until you caught her. She wouldn't stop laughing loudly, and it caused you to laugh as well. Others wanted to talk, so you danced regularly with them.

As you took a break from dancing with some girls Kanako approached you. "There you are y/n, I've been looking everywhere for you. May I have this next dance?"

"It would be my pleasure Lady Kanako." You began to dance with her. "You're so formal. It's really fascinating to me."

"Your expressions and slang are fascinating to me as well." She said.

"Kasuga-chan's here!" Honey announced.

"Honey, Mori," Tamaki said. "Commence with the operation."

Both nodded before swiftly grabbing you away and dashing to an empty room with the twins and Kyoya. "Did you guys really have to be so forceful?"

"Nevermind that, go and change." Hikaru shoved a bag into your hands and pushed you into the changing room.

"Remember y/n, we only have 37 minutes before the climax of the night," Kyoya said. "And a little accident might make the evening more interesting."

You saw a tube of concealer on the small table when you went in. You knew Kyoya left it for you, and it made you smile. You quickly changed into the dark purple dress and put concealer on the scars of your legs. You then remembered the earrings in your pocket and put them on. They were rose gold hoops with what looked like flower petals on them.

You then went outside, where the twins quickly put on your makeup. Kaoru then gently touched one of your earrings. "We didn't put these in the bag. Are these yours?"

"Yeah." You quietly said.

"They compliment the dress. It was good that you brought them." You smiled at him, causing him to blush and look away.

"Y'know," Hikaru said as they finished up. "I know the boss wants to stick to the strategy, but this is..."

"What are you all doing standing around here?" Tamaki asked as he came in. "The guests are wai—"

You stood up and faced him. You then began walking as the boys stared at you. "You look cute!" Honey stated.

Everyone blushed but Honey and Kyoya, who were both smiling. "My face feels heavy." You pouted as you kept walking.

"Hurry up!" The twins called out as you kept walking.

"Yeah, I got it." You muttered. As you left, the twins and Tamaki began to fawn over you.

You walked into the room they told you to. Suzushima turned around with a surprised look. You timidly smiled as you walked over to him. "You're not at all what I pictured from the letter you wrote me."

You kept your smile on. "Really?" He nodded. "Can I actually see the letter please?" He then gave it to you, and you read over it:

I'm in love love with you! From the first day I laid eyes on you I've been head over heals in love! Tee hee! All these feelings I have are harpooned to my heart as they keep whipping around my mind like the restless waves! When the special day comes, I want to randezvou with you on Noah's arc! I do I do!

You wondered who the hell would write such a stupid letter. It was actually a collaborative write with Kyoya and the twins. "Excuse me," Suzushima interrupted your thoughts. "Have we met before?"

"No! It's um, the first time we've ever talked!"

"I'm flattered by your letter, but I'm afraid I can't return your feelings." He said. "My heart has been taken by somebody else."

"My apologies! I didn't realize you had a girlfriend."

"No, she's not my girlfriend. I don't even think she's even interested anymore." He looked very sad.

"Well I don't know about that. Your calming presence is a joy to be around, and I'm sure she'd agree." You offered.

He sighed. "Thank you, but honestly, I'm sure she'd be better off with someone more self confident. That's why I'm leaving next month to study abroad. Hopefully become a better man for her. Maybe it's selfish, but I hope she'll wait for me."

"I won't lie to you, it's a little selfish." An arrow went through him. You squished your index finger and thumb. "Just a little. But Toro, if she really is the love of your life then I'm sure she'll still love you just as much as she probably already does."

He was about to say something as he reached out for you, but you heard the door open. You didn't turn so she wouldn't see your face. "Oh, I'm sorry to intrude." You could tell she was crying. "I'll just leave you two be."

You heard her heels and knew she was running away, and he ran after her. "Kanako, wait!"

You then walked next to Tamaki. "We didn't make things worse, did we?"

"He did run after her. He needs to learn how to be more sure of himself."

You were both walking back when you tripped again over your heels. Tamaki interlocked your arms together. You looked up at him. "You really need to learn how to walk in heels. They look so lovely on you, and it'd be a shame if you tripped and hurt yourself."

You smiled and nodded, leaning on his shoulder. You then tripped again, only for him to hold onto you and prevent you from falling. You giggled, followed shortly by Tamaki chuckling with you.

You both went over to the balcony. The lights hit, and you saw Kanako and Toro. "Let us join together and announce that this couple has been chosen for the final waltz of the night." Tamaki announced.

He said something to her, squeezing his eyes shut and asking her for a dance. You snickered. "Why are you laughing?" Kaoru asked.

"I know he's trying his best, but he looks kinda goofy right now." All the hosts looked from you to them and smiled. "They're awesome together though."

"May this awkward couple be forever blessed!" Tamaki exclaimed.

Kyoya then stepped forward. "And now for the grand prize, a kiss from our royalty."

"Y/n with step in for Tamaki." Kaoru said with a banana peel in his hand.

"And the kiss with be for Toro Suzushima." Hikaru added with another banana peel in his hand.

Tamaki was shocked, and you turned to Kyoya. "I'm not gonna—"

"It'll lower your debt by a third."

"I mean it is just a peck." You smiled and headed down.

"Wha..." Tamaki said.

"Also," You said as you began walking down the stairs. "You guys need to work on your love letter skills, because that was embarring for me to read."

As you went down Suzushima saw you and gave you a surprised expression. "You..."

"Y/n," Kanako said. "Were you the girl with Toro?"

"Hi guys. We just needed to give you two a gentle nudge. I promise I'm not in love with Toro. And I'm really sorry and embarrassed they gave you that stupid letter. I didn't write any of that." You smiled at them.

He nodded. "Thank you."

You then looked at Kanako. "May I?"

"Sure. It'll mark the beginning of our relationship."

Up from the balcony, Tamaki was reaching out for you weakly. "I wonder if this is y/n-chan's first kiss?" Honey thought out loud.

This made Tamaki snap, and he began running to you. "Wait y/n~!"

He slipped on the twins' banana peels and accidentally pushed you, causing you to kiss Toro on the lips instead. Kyoya did say that a little accident would make the night a little more interesting.

---

Author's Note: Comment if you liked it (please) or if you want to be tagged 😁

---

Tag List:

@krustykrabbspizza @animefan7420 @strangerthingsholland @the-dead-fucking-sea

[ateezmakemeweep]

richboy!seonghwa (part 7)

word count: 4k

fluff

(part 6) (series masterlist)

you walked into school on monday and was immediately thrown off by the pure elation and excitement buzzing around the school halls; students were chatting and clapping and skipping, actually skipping, to class despite it barely being eight o’clock in the morning. it was a stark contrast to how every other day here has gone, people eyeing others warily and closing themselves off into tiny, designated cliques.

but today, it really seemed as if everyone was excited and in good spirits, even the teachers. so you figured that, maybe, people just had a really nice weekend and were coming down from the high.

but the excited chatter hadn't stopped for a single second, the classrooms and hallways and bathrooms just humming with an overwhelming excitement.

you were sitting in third period now in bewilderment because what the hell could have a herd of rich kids this happy?

but you wouldn't dare turn around and ask if something was going on, the girls behind you in a deep discussion about the new gucci fall line they can't wait to get their hands on.

"i'm buying these after school and will obviously bring them tomorrow!" you hear one of them squeal behind you, "i can't believe it came so fast."

you keep your head buried in your notebook, getting an early start on the homework until the bell rings for fourth period.

you almost make it there in one piece, getting excitedly jostled and snubbed before you're pushed into a hard body. your head shoots up to meet the tall figure's face, a frantic apology already pouring out of your mouth.

"hey, it's okay," his voice say sweetly, eyes looking overwhelmingly soft and kind, "uh, could you actually-" another person whacks into you, causing the boy to gently grab your shoulder and bring you over to the side.

"i'm sorry, i just... i'm new and a little overwhelmed and need some help," he mutters out, "you look like the nicest person i've come across so far."

a little giggle leaves your mouth, sympathizing easily with the boy. "i just came last week, i get it," you tell him, "do you need help finding a room? i still don't really know the building myself but i can try to help."

"uh, the library? i have to get books for my next class."

"oh, yes okay, i eat there!" you unnecessary blurt out and his eyes soften, probably because you're not eating with friends in the cafeteria like a normal person. "it's right down those stairs, then straight down that hall and make a right. it's kind of hidden but there's a little sign on the top of the wall with an arrow."

he bites his lip nervously, nodding his head while looking down at the paper he knows won't be of any help. "okay, well hopefully i can find it," he laughs out, "thank you! i'm yunho, by the way."

"y/n," you say, giving him a little wave and feeling your heart tug at the fact that he's so tall and large but looks like a scared child starting kindergarten. "you're doing great, its okay."

a nervous chuckle leaves his mouth, shaking his head with large, pleading eyes. "i don't think so but it's time...to face them again," he says fearfully, looking out at the sea of rambunctious students.

a giggle leaves your mouth as you bravely lead the way, pushing through the crowd and bidding him a quick last goodbye when you nearly pass the room. you barrel into the doorway, grateful you're on time and not surprised when, again, all of your classmates are hyperactive and filling the room with lively chatter.

you hurry to the back, throwing your bag and books down before plopping in your seat. conversation next to you causes you to turn your head curiously, eyes immediately darting towards the window so you don't get yelled at for eavesdropping.

"if i have to share a room with her, i'll kill myself," the girl dramatically says to her friend whose deep chuckle causes her to hit him.

"i'm serious! we wait for this trip every year and it'll be completely ruined if i have to deal with her messy ass. she even snores!”

"like you can't afford your own if you wanted to," he sarcastically remarks and she just scoffs, her side eye catching your gaze before her body turns towards you.

"new girl, are you going?"

being addressed directly causes you to jump, eyes avoiding her cold ones and because you're used to the cruelness of this school, you know she's not genuinely interested in whatever she's asking about.

"going where?"

she rolls her eyes, mumbling something unintelligible to the boy next to her. "the senior trip," she has as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "every year, the senior class goes to a ski resort for a week. how did you not know hear about this?"

but before you can answer, she's cutting you off with snarky comments and insincere concern.

"then again, i guess you don't talk to anyone so how would you know. and you probably couldn't afford it anyway, right?"

you resist the urge to roll your eyes because don’t these people get tired of throwing that one around? you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to figure out if you should even entertain her or just turn around.

"you never know when to shut your mouth, do you?" a deep voice interrupts and you turn to see seonghwa leaning against his desk with his arms crossed, staring at the girl with a dark, agitated expression. when did he get there?

"okay but is she lying," the boy next to her finally speaks and seonghwa lets out a humorless laugh, turning his head to the side before getting up to stand over his desk.

"i can't do shit to her but i won't hesitate to smack you," he growls, about to reach out for him when you pull him back by his shirt.

"okay, stop that," you whine quietly and the two of them are looking at you both in shock, confused and thrown off more so by seonghwa ready to burn a hole through their faces than your boldness to reach out and touch him.

he turns to look at you and you smile softly, shaking your head subtly because ‘it's not even worth it,’ you mouth. he blows air out his nose, throwing the duo one more harsh look before sitting in his seat and turning to face you.

"well good morning to you," you quip sarcastically and he rolls his eyes playfully.

"it was until them," he spits before his anger face softens slightly, "i don't know why everyone has to fuck with you."

"it's fine, she’s right, i probably couldn't afford it anyway," you tell him honestly. "but i was wondering what managed to get a group of spoiled brats so excited today," you tell him playfully, hoping to ease his agitation.

a scoff leaves his mouth, narrowing his eyes at you and the smile you were trying to fight breaks out over your face.

"i only see one brat here," he teases lowly and your eyebrows wiggle sarcastically causing him to smile.

"but yeah, it's some...tradition everyone looks forward too," he tells you, "just an excuse to not do any work and get drunk behind the teachers backs."

"sounds fun," you say dryly, "are you going?"

he simply nods his head, informing you most of the class is going and you resist the urge to frown because now you won't get to see him for a few days.

but then you perk up a little thinking it'll probably be a peaceful, quiet week, no one around to call you poor every five minutes.

that'll be a nice change.

"oh, well that will be fun!" you say excitedly but are only met with a nonchalant shrug from the boy. "what, you don't think so?"

his eyes roam over your face and you resist the urge to bite your lip, suddenly taking a vast interest in cracking your knuckles. his tongue darts out to lick at his lips, "well, i think it'd be more fun if-"

your teacher barreling through the door cuts him off and you giggle when a heavy sigh leaves his lips, putting a finger to your mouth in a 'sh' gesture. he reaches out to ruffle your hair before turning around in his seat as you try to calm your racing heart.

it's bizarre because you feel like you've known him for longer than you actually have, finding his touch comforting and familiar, but also exhilarating, like something your body won't ever go into a frenzy over. he could barely do anything and your stomach tightens, heart starts to race, brain goes into-

but before you can dwell on all the things seonghwa does to you, you shake the thoughts of him from your head and listen to your teacher drill on with the lesson until the bell rings forty minutes later.

you stand up after gathering your things and, like clockwork, an arm shoots out to block you from the aisle. you look up at his awaiting gaze and raise an eyebrow, "you know, i'm almost always late to this class because of you!" your hand comes up to poke his chest but he doesn't budge, wrapping his hand around your finger before taking his hand in yours.

your eyes widen as he does so, more complaints dying in your throat and you don't know if you wanna slap or kiss the smirk off his face.

"you were saying?"

slap. you wanna slap it off.

"why do you do this to me." your words come out as breathy whine, much more breathy than intended.

"do what?" he asks, turning his head to the side as he takes a step closer to you.

his body is just a few inches away from completely grazing yours and you know for a fact if you feel any part of him touch you, you’ll pass out. pass out right there on the floor at the feet of a boy you continue to be flustered by. and how embarrassing would that be. 

almost as embarrassing as him staring down at you the way he is right now, like he knows about the very thoughts plaguing your mind.

you squint your eyes at him, quickly snatching your hand back and shoving his shoulder lightly. the room is emptying out fast now, the quiet classroom a stark contrast to the muffled chatter outside in the hall.

"i'm gonna be late," you whine, looking at him with pleading eyes.

"are you sure you're can't go?"

your eyebrows pull together as you turn your head to the side in confusion.

"what?"

he rolls his eyes looking down at you and yeah, you definitely wanna slap him.

"where!? to my next class?"

"no, not your next class," he bites back, a dry sharpness in his voice but his eyes holding no malice.

"then what are you talking about, i don't know!” you sigh, exasperated. “you know what, it doesn't even matter because i'm going to class and you're not gonna-"

his hand shoots up to cups your cheeks, squeezing them slightly and successfully silencing you in record time. your lips are puckered out, wide eyes looking into his as you swallow nervously.

his hand is so large and warm on your face with such a firm grasp that it has your mind racing. because okay, maybe you wanna kiss him. just a little, just a enough to get his ever present smirk off his face. or better yet, why not both a slap and a-

"why am i so captivated by you," he says lowly, almost as if he's talking to himself. 

his finger is trailing over your lips, the cold metal of his ring right under your jaw and you’re positive cardiac arrest is gonna set in any second now. because his words (one word, in particular) and gentle, teasing touch and intense gaze is proving to be just too much for you.

you can feel your eyes bulging out of your head because you knew you were...captivated by him the second you saw him. but those were for obvious reasons. he was unlike any person you've ever seen before, handsome looks and alluring charm that anyone with eyes could see.

but you? someone like him captivated by you? you'd have half the mind to laugh right in his face if his words and voice and hands weren't making your heart jump out of your chest right now.

your mouth opens and closes, mind going a mile a minute but completely at a loss for words.

which is why you stupidly parrot yourself from just a few moments ago, uttering "what?"

he bites his lip to hide another smirk, loosening his hold on your face before giving your cheek one slow stroke with his thumb.

and then, just like he didn't do anything, he removes his hand, slinging his bag over his shoulder before peering down at you one last time.

"i'll see you...when i see you," is all he cryptically says and now you're even more confused because why wouldn't he just say see you tomorrow? and that's when a light goes off in that slow brain of yours, jumping like a bolt of lightning ran through you.

"oh wait!" you say but his back is retreating down the aisle already, nearly out the door when you squeak out, "were you talking about the-"

you watch as he walks out the door without another word or glance back. "trip," you mumble into the empty classroom and you let out a sigh, trying to calm your racing heart because you're still not over his use of the word captivated.

who says that? and why did he say it to you? you’re half tempted to get a dictionary just to double check the meaning of the word captivated.

suddenly a sea of students burst into the classroom and you have a sinking suspicion it's because no one wanted to enter when park seonghwa was still in here, with a girl no less. you can barely get your feet to move before the sound of the bell ringing quickly snaps you back to reality.

"shit!" you yelp out, the students turning to stare you down and you smile innocently, bowing your head politely before rushing out the door.

"shit," mingi mutters lowly when you sit at your designated library table a period later, vigorously erasing his paper and looking up when he feels your presence.

"hi," you whisper quietly, "is it a bad time? i'm sorry, i could come-"

"no," he says quickly, eyes moving to meet yours, "it's okay."

you smile softly at him, sitting down next to him and taking out your sandwich. you watch silently as he continues to write and erase, eyebrows furrying and body tense as he works through a sheet you now see is a math handout.

and it's not until you're done eating and sit there wordlessly for a few more minutes that you break the silence.

"do you need help?" you squeak out and his expression is so unreadable when he looks at you, you immediately mistake it for him being insulted.

"i'm sorry, i just..i think i was learning this with the tut...yeosang..last week, so.."

"no, yeah, no," he stutters out before quietly chuckling, "i mean yes, please."

you smile softly, leaning in closer to mingi as you start to explain the equation in the same way yeosang did last week. he had made it seem so simple and straightforward, the teachers and textbooks putting such complicated twists on it but him talking about it like it was basic addition.

and just fifteen minutes later, mingi's completely done with the rest of the worksheet that he'd been hopelessly confused by and ready to rip into pieces.

"that asshole really knew what he was talking about, huh," he grumbles out and a giggle leaves your mouth as you nod.

"i know, right."

he puts the paper away and takes out a large thermos, slurping a mouthful of noodles sloppily.

"you're not still seeing him, right?" he asks with a mouthful of food and you shake your head.

"no, i'm caught up...i really wasn't that behind," you tell him, "and they really didn't want a scholarship student using a tutor anyway."

mingi rolls his eyes at the implication, knowing all too how the teachers here probably reacted.

"for the better, that kid's a dick."

you laugh at mingi's forwardness, the nonchalant way he throws around insults while scarfing down food and looking like a giant baby in his large glasses.

"he's actually not that bad," you find yourself saying and you wish you could say that you were surprised that you just defending him. but after having him help you and then further acknowledge you at seonghwa's house, to act as if what he did wasn't commendable in the slightest, might have changed your perception a tiny bit.

but mingi's staring at you with wide, surprised eyes, like you forget the complete and utter verbal lashing he gave you less than a week ago.

"okay, he is a little bit," you admit because, okay, he is kind of a dick, "but he...i...he also helped me at a party the other night and it was...let's just say, thank god he did."

the pit in mingi's stomach hints at him not to push the issue any further.

"well that's good then," he says softly, scanning your face and understanding even more just how much he really helped you. "but he still shouldn't have been so mean to you."

a smile crosses your face at the tone in mingi's voice, a small giggle ringing through the quiet library. "you're right," you tell him and he nods his head.

you hear the sound of the library door opening, footsteps walking over to the table next to you and you turn to see a familiar tall figure. your face brightens in surprise, an excited gasp leaving your lips.

"you found the library!" you squeal a little too loudly and a harsh "sh" is whispered throughout the room.

yunho's head pops up and a big smile crosses his face, eagerly nodding at you. "i did, thanks to your directions."

you smile at him, side eyeing mingi and then looking back at yunho to see if he's okay with inviting him over; you wave the boy over when mingi nods his head.

yunho walks over, taking the seat next to you and laying out his many textbooks.

"thanks, see, you're still the nicest person i've met here today," he laughs out before lowering his voice, "is everyone here always so..."

"obnoxious?" mingi offers and a surprised laugh leaves the boy's mouth.

"i was gonna say chatty," yunho says, "but then the second you talk to them, they act like you're from another planet."

"you noticed too!" you say, "apparently a ski trip is all it takes to get these rich kids excited and talking to each other."

"ski trip?" yunho asks and you shrug your shoulders.

"i don't know, some tradition for the senior class or something. are you going, mingi?"

the both of you look to the boy after he doesn't respond to find his eyes narrowed and aimed at someone across the room. yunho looks over his shoulder as you wave your hand in front of the boy’s face.

"mingi?" you squeak out, noticing his harsh gaze and locked jaw. you break him from his stare down though, his eyes moving to yours as a little questioning hums leaves his mouth.

"are you going? on the ski trip?"

"not if you paid me," he grunts out and another chuckle leaves yunho's mouth.

"i like him, he's also nice," he tells you cheerfully and a broad smile makes it way on your face.

"mingi, yunho, yunho, mingi," you say as an official introduction and mingi nods his head at the smiling boy.

"are you new?" his deep voice asks and you find yourself bubbling with happiness that mingi's so openly talking with the boy. you thought he had seemed shy and closed off but he seems fine with yunho; but you also don't really know him that well yet.

you listen as yunho tells you about his old school, coming to find out it's apparently the rival school of this one and you have to laugh imagining the way rich teenagers probably pit against each other.

"now that i think about it, they do a ski trip too," yunho says, "imagine they're all there at the same time."

"double the stupid," mingi mutters and you muffle your giggle with your hand.

"y/n, are you going?" yunho asks and you shake your head.

"no way, not something i could afford," you tell him honestly and his eyebrows shoot up in confusion.

"oh, silly me, let me address myself the way everyone else here does," you sarcastically say before putting your hand out, "hi i'm y/n, scholarship student which without fail has now translated to poor girl. so please, if you could spare some change or canned food."

"oh, jesus christ," yunho mutters and you giggle at his annoyance before shrugging.

"yeah, i don't know but it's okay..apparently, my shoes were the dead give away though."

"your shoes are nice," yunho says and just as your about to thank him, a new voice interrupts.

"your new friend's a liar."

you stiffen at hearing the voice, a quiet growl already leaving mingi's voice at the presence of the boy.

"hi, yeosang, nice to see you," you say sarcastically and a smirk covers his face.

"nice to see you, y/n," he says just as sarcastically before turning his gaze to mingi, "and you, pretty boy. gonna try to crack my head open again?"

"i was thinking about it," mingi bites back and yunho can only watch with wide eyes at the encounter.

"okay, let's not do that," you say, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you before you see yunho sitting there looking lost. "this is another new student, yunho."

yeosang looks at the boy unamused, lips not even twitching when yunho gives him a friendly, bright smile.

"hi!"

"you gonna waste my time and ask for a tutoring session also?"

your body draws back slightly as you bite your lip because ouch and you pretend your feelings aren't hurt by lashing out at him.

"in case you forgot, it wasn't my idea," and because that's not enough for your bruised heart and ego after just defending him you say, "why would i have asked for someone like you?"

he rolls his eyes at your snark, leaning against the bookshelf and crossing his arms back to a complete state of disinterest.

"are you going tomorrow?"

"why do you care?" you ask and your voice sounds a little too clipped for an innocent question.

"san and wooyoung were harassing seonghwa to find out during lunch," he tells you, his head still pounding from the two boy's constant whining and questioning.

"oh," you say, voice sounding small and a little touched that the two boys were asking about you, you had actually really liked them. you resist the urge to pout because now even if you wanted to go, you still can’t.

"well, tell them thank you for thinking of me but i probably won't be able to make it," you say and you can even hear how your voice sounds a little dejected now.

"how sad," yeosang says before pulling himself off the bookshelf and standing near the table. he eyes mingi one more time with a sarcastic smile, waving his fingers at mingi in a goodbye.

"nice catching up, mingi," his deep voice sings before he's met with one of mingi's finger. 

the boy’s smirking as his eyes meet yours now, seemingly no expression in his pretty brown eyes and you wanna look away but you can't. he just stares at you for an intense one, two, three, four seconds and you try so hard to look for a hint of any emotion in them.

but there's nothing, no hint of like or dislike or interest or no interest and then he's turning to head out the door. you let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding and shit, you thought seonghwa was impossible to read.

"i hate that guy," mingi grumbles and yunho nods his head, feeling himself visibly relax with the boy now out of sight.

"there's something so scary about him!" yunho whispers like he's gonna hear him and you giggle because you can't help but find him cute.

"right," you tell him, "it's his eyes i think."

"certainly not his height," mingi quips and a tiny snort leaves you, hiding your face in your hands.

"y/n's right, it was his eyes," yunho comments, "they're scary and cold but there's also something..." he pauses as he looks for the right word, "captivating about them."

your head snaps up at the word, seonghwa's voice echoing in your head.

"why am i so captivated by you?"

"ah, stop it," you mumble to yourself, smacking your temple lightly as you shaking the thoughts from your head; mingi and yunho stare at you like you have two heads.

"sorry," you mumble, "just an uh...interesting word choice."

the two boys look at you strangely before the librarian warns you there's a minute until the bell. you all thank her politely, gathering your things and getting ready to stand up.

"well, i'm sorry for intruding, by the way," yunho says, "i just...the cafeteria was too daunting."

"believe me i know," you tell him softly, "so don't worry, you weren't intruding at all."

yunho smiles at you softly and you're about to tell him to come back when mingi beats you to it.

"you can sit with us again...if you want," he says softly and you resist the urge to squeal because there's something so sweet and wholesome about the offer.

"yes! you should! pleaseee!" you add, smiling up at him and you could cry when you watch his cheeks start to blush a soft pink.

"oh, my gosh okay, just stop smiling at me like that," he says, putting his large hands on his pink cheeks causing you to giggle. the bell rings five seconds later and the three of you go your separate ways, waving goodbye to them.

"see you tomorrow!"

and really, you had every intention of doing so. but apparently, someone else had other plans.

a few minutes after the final bell, the teacher in charge of chaperoning the senior trip hears a knock at the door and gives a warm smile to the student entering.

"oh! hi there mr-"

"sorry it's late," his voice cuts her off apologetically as he hands her a sealed envelope.

her eyebrows furrow in confusion, she had just been going through the payment list last night and swore she had saw he had paid already?

"didn't you already-"

"oh, it's not for me, it's another student's payment," he tells the teacher, "y/n, the new transfer student."

(part 8)

[softlass27]

Robert Week 2020 Day 3: Family A family dinner goes awry when revelations about the Sugden brothers' past come to light.

FYI, this is set in a slightly AU version of husbands era where Andy returned at some point and is living in Emmerdale again (I brought Adam back too, because why not).

Also, this fic refers to an old storyline that I must have watched but have no real memory of, considering how long ago it aired. So I've had to rely on gifsets and the Emmerdale Wiki, which you can see here:

https://emmerdale.fandom.com/wiki/Stephen_Butler https://isabellaofparma.tumblr.com/post/176241877331 https://robsugdens.tumblr.com/post/176241303211/i-didnt-have-it-easy

On a warm Saturday evening in August, the Sugdens and their other halves all gather round Diane’s table for their tea. Family time still isn’t a particularly common occurrence for them, but Diane and Victoria insist on it every now and then, and they mostly manage to get through the odd meal without any drama these days.

So as Aaron sits in his usual spot next to Robert and Seb, he doesn’t expect much more from the next couple of hours than some small talk with his in-laws over homemade shepherd’s pie and apple crumble.

Andy and Victoria are both in a nostalgic mood, it seems, tossing childhood memories back and forth as they eat. Nothing too heavy, thankfully, just funny – mostly farming-related – anecdotes from their youth.

At least, Andy, Vic, Diane and Doug seem to find them funny. Adam smiles and laughs easily along with them, but Aaron’s mostly left nonplussed. Honestly, the only thing getting him through it is the eye roll and small kill-me-now grin Robert shoots him whenever they catch each other’s eye. Aaron’s husband is clearly just as bored by the farm talk as he is, only chiming in when someone addresses him directly.

How many stories can you possibly tell about runaway cows, anyway?

As the first hour drags by and some of them start helping themselves to seconds, talk turns to Butlers farm and how the Sugdens had come to take it over back in the day.

“Who were the actual Butlers, anyway?” Adam asks, shovelling a forkful of mashed potato in his mouth. “Don’t think my mum ever said when we moved in there.”

“Just a bloke who was getting too old to keep up with things,” Andy replies with a shrug. “Will or Wilf, I think. And he had a son, too, about our age, right Rob?”

Robert nods as he wipes Seb’s mouth (he’s going through an incredibly messy phase of insisting on feeding himself) but doesn’t add anything.

“Drawing a blank on his name, though – ”

“Steve,” Robert interrupts quietly, turning back to his plate.

“Oh yeah, that’s it,” Andy snaps his fingers as the memory comes back to him. “Steve… dunno what happened to him. We were mates for a bit but he moved away in the end. We’d fallen out, can’t remember why but – ”

Robert’s scoff cuts Andy off. Everyone pauses and turns to him as he finally lifts his head to stare at a confused-looking Andy.

“What?”

“Are you kidding me?” Robert asks incredulously.

Victoria tenses and glances warily between the two of them. “What’s the matter, Robert?”

“Yeah, what’s your problem?” Andy says with a frown.

“You seriously don’t remember what happened with Steve?”

“No… ” Andy’s bewilderment is quickly turning to annoyance. “Who cares, it was like, a million years ago. Do you remember everyone you fell out with when we were kids? Saying that, it’d be a pretty long list for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Boys, come on now,” Doug rumbles quietly. “Let’s not spoil the evening.”

Robert stays silent, but Aaron can see he’s biting the inside of his jaw. A telltale sign that he’s upset but trying to keep it together. He rests a hand on Robert's tense thigh under the table, ready to jump in to his defence if needed.

“Well, share with the class,” Andy drawls, ignoring Doug’s words with the beginnings of a smirk. Aaron has no idea what this is about, but he wants to punch it off his face. “What was it, then?”

Robert hesitates, eyes darting to Seb – who’s thankfully still oblivious to the tension – before shaking his head and stabbing at his food with his fork.

“What, nothin’ to say?”

“No.”

“Maybe we should just change the – ” Diane begins, but Andy speaks over her.

“No, come on, he’s started now. Spit it out, Rob, whatever it is that's got your back up.”

“I said no.”

No one else at the table would have caught it, but Aaron hears the wobble in Robert’s voice. He tightens the hand on his husband's thigh, trying to keep him calm, remind him that he's not alone at the table.

“What d’you bring it up for, then?” Andy isn’t taking no for an answer, apparently, and he’s starting to get on Aaron’s last nerve.  “God, you always do this, always have to turn everything into some big drama, don't you? Come on, what was it that was so bad that – ”

“You found out Steve was gay,” Robert cuts Andy off, voice low but unmistakably clear.

Silence rings over the table as everyone freezes on the spot. Adam’s fork hovers in the air for a moment, before he sets it back on the plate with a clatter.

“Or, you heard rumours that he was gay, from that Ali kid. I dunno if he actually was, but that was good enough for you. You heard the rumours, you believed them – started passing them on to other people too, if I remember right – and after that, you wanted nothing to do with him.”

Aaron’s heart is thumping loudly in his chest, a familiar anger and defensiveness – for Robert, for himself, for this Steve kid – surging through him like wildfire. He watches Andy open his mouth uncertainly before closing it again, the irritation vanished from his face and replaced with shock. He looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“I asked you what the big deal was, why you cared so much if Steve was gay,” Robert continues with an air of apparent nonchalance, though Aaron knows better than to fall for the act, he knows Robert's fuming. Hurting.

“You said he shouldn’t have kept it hidden from everyone, you had a right to know what sort of person you’d been hanging out with. You were also very keen to make sure everyone else knew that just because you’d spent time with him, that didn’t make you ‘queer’, as you put it.”

Diane and Doug both look on uncomfortably, while Victoria brings a hand to her mouth in shock.

“Andy, you didn’t… ” she whispers with wide eyes. Adam lays a hand on her shoulder, looking almost as taken aback by the situation as her.

“I… ” Andy flounders helplessly, head whipping to his sister then back to Robert.

“Steve ended up moving away from the village in the end,” Robert finishes, pushing his plate away and tossing his napkin on to the table. “I guess all the shit he got over it – the name-calling and bullying – became too much for him to cope with, so he got the hell out of there. And no one ever mentioned him again.”

“Robert… ”

“Any of this ringing any bells for you, Andy?”

Andy gulps loudly before giving the slightest of nods.

“I – I forgot.”

“That’s nice for you,” Robert lets out a hollow laugh, before abruptly pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. “Sorry Diane, dinner’s been great but I don’t really fancy pudding. Lost my appetite.”

He scoops Seb out of his high chair and strides out of the room with a backward glance. Aaron rises quickly, muttering his thanks to Diane for the meal and following him, only stopping to throw a hard glare back in Andy’s direction. When Andy’s eyes meet his, he cringes and shrinks back in his seat.

Good.

*

“S’been a while since I’ve sat in on some proper Sugden drama,” Aaron say lightly, passing Robert a brew and Seb his sippy cup of juice.

Robert lets out a small huff but doesn’t speak, silently watching Seb playing with his toy cars on the rug. He hasn’t said much of anything since they left Diane’s and Aaron hasn’t pushed him. Not until now, anyway.

Careful not to spill their teas, he sinks onto the sofa and nudges Robert gently, raising a questioning eyebrow at him. Robert glances at him before sighing heavily.

“Probably gonna get an earful off Diane later,” he eventually mutters. “Causin’ a scene, spoiling a family meal again.”

“Somehow I don’t think she’ll blame you for this one. And if she does, she’ll have me to deal with.”

That gets him a tiny smile, at least.

“Gonna tell her off, are you?”

“I ain’t scared of her.”

Robert chuckles and leans into him, taking a slow sip of his tea. They sit in companionable silence for a few moments, before Robert begins to speak.

“I know Andy doesn’t have a problem with me, with you and me. I know he doesn’t think like that anymore, I wouldn’t speak to him if he did,” he says quietly. “We were just kids, and kids can be idiots, I get it. It’s just – it’s the fact that he didn’t even remember. To him it was clearly just a stupid bit of teenage drama, it didn’t mean anything. He probably never even gave it a second thought after Steve was gone. Whereas I… ”

Robert trails off, blinking rapidly and looking frustrated. Aaron reaches over to lace their fingers together, squeezing gently.  As out and proud as his husband is now, it's still difficult for him to talk about his sexuality sometimes, about all the time he spent in hiding it.

“That day,” Robert eventually continues. “When Andy said all that stuff about not wanting to hang out with Steve anymore, I thought I was gonna be sick there and then. The way he acted like it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever heard… I don’t think I got a wink of sleep that night. I just lay there in bed, picturing Andy’s face if he ever found out about – about me. If he knew what Dad knew.”

He sets his mug down and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“It wasn’t like I’d been about to come out or anything, this was a couple of years after Dad… you know.”

Aaron nods wordlessly, feeling the hatred he’d carried for Jack Sugden ever since he learnt about that day bubble rapidly to the surface.

“I’d already buried the fact that I liked boys, I'd decided I was just gonna pretend it wasn’t there. But – but hearing Andy say all that stuff about Steve, the way he reacted to even the possibility that his mate was… It was like like the final nail in the coffin, y’know?” Robert’s bottom lip wobbles as he shakes his head, sounding so resigned.

“I knew then, that I could never tell him. Or my friends, or anyone in this stupid village. Any hope I’d had, deep down, that being myself might be... I don’t know, not accepted but… tolerated, maybe? It pretty much died that day.”

Sometimes, Aaron is reminded of just how drastically things in Emmerdale have changed in recent times. His adolescence and Robert’s were only a few years apart; on paper the time seems like nothing. But the reality is that in terms of mindset and attitude, things couldn’t have been more different for the two of them.

He remembers the fear, the absolute terror of others finding out the truth about him all too well. But once he was out, once the dust settled and everyone knew… apart from the odd snide comment from some tosser he didn’t even know, people were fine with it. His family, Victoria, Adam, Ryan, Holly… none of them cared, no one saw him any differently. If anything, he became closer to nearly every person around him.

The fact that Robert not only believed that the opposite would happen to him, but basically had actual confirmation of it played out right before his eyes, breaks Aaron's heart.

He puts down his own mug so he can pull Robert into him and tuck him under his chin, Robert’s arms circling his waist as he buries his face into Aaron's chest.

“I love you,” he murmurs into his husband’s hair, hands stroking softly. “You deserved better.”

Robert clutches him tighter.

*

Later that night, Adam texts him while Robert’s in the shower.

so that was fun

Aaron readjusts a sleepy Seb in his lap so he can reply.

What happened after we left? Andy say anything?

not much. diane and vic gave him an earful, he left pretty sharpish. looked proper ashamed of himself too. vic’s been going spare ever since, i’ve had to stop her from going to yours 3 times. u both ok?

We’re fine. Tell Vic that Rob’s alright, I’ve got him

will do. night mate

*

“Well, you’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.” Is the only thing Aaron says when he opens the front door to Andy the next morning, folding his arms across his chest.

Andy shuffles awkwardly on the welcome mat, a hand coming up to scratch his bushy beard.

“Is Robert here?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t step aside to let Andy in. When Andy realises that Aaron isn’t budging, he sighs heavily, shoulders slumped.

“Look Aaron, I uh… ” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry."

“Not me you need to apologise to.”

“No, I know, but I just wanted to say that I was a right idiot back then, really stupid. Ignorant. And I’m – I’m not proud of it, but I don’t want you thinking I’m still like that because – ”

“I don’t think you’re like that,” Aaron cuts him off.

“…Yeah?”

“You wouldn’t still be standing here if I did.”

Andy pauses and blinks, face twisting nervously.

“Right, well uh… good, I’m glad. So… can I…?” He gestures to the inside of the house.

“Wait here.”

He closes the door in Andy’s face (not exactly necessary, but he takes some petty pleasure in it) and walks through the living room to the back door, stepping out into bright sunshine and the sound of splashing and laughter.

Seb’s playing in his paddling pool in the garden, happy as a clam, while Robert sprawls on the grass beside it, occasionally passing him one of the bath toys they’d brought down to the garden. The front of his t-shirt is absolutely drenched.

“Alright?” He asks as Aaron approaches.

“Andy’s here. Asking for you.”

Robert stiffens, grin dropping off his face.

“Want me to send him packing?”

There’s a long pause, before Robert sighs and shakes his head. “No… suppose he can come through.”

Aaron returns to the front door and beckons Andy, leading him to the back garden.

“Andy!” Seb cries when he spots them. “Pool!”

“Wow, look at this!” Andy calls as he steps closer. For all his and Robert's issues, he adores Seb. “You havin’ fun, mate?”

Seb nods vigorously, his damp sunhat bouncing on his head as he smacks his hands into the water. Robert tilts his head up to stare at Andy.

“Alright?” Andy tries for a hopeful smile, which Robert doesn’t return, instead refocusing his gaze on Seb.

“Can we have a quick chat?”

Robert passes Seb a rubber duck.

“Rob, come on,” Andy pleads, looking down at him imploringly.

Robert rolls his eyes, before pushing himself up and wiping his palms on his shorts.

“Can you – ?” He asks Aaron, gesturing to Seb.

“Course.” Aaron gives Robert’s wrist a brief squeeze as he passes him, before settling down next to the paddling pool, flicking some water in Seb’s face to make him laugh.

As he plays with his son, he keeps an eye on the two brothers, watching as they walk to the deckchairs at other end of the garden, sitting sideways on them so they’re facing each other.

Aaron can’t make out exactly what’s being said, not over the sound of Seb’s splashing and yelling, but neither of them look angry, which is a good sign. He just hopes Jack’s name doesn’t come up, otherwise that could all change in a heartbeat.

Andy’s doing most of the talking, elbows resting on his bouncing knees as he leans towards Robert. The expression on his face is uncomfortable but earnest, as he offers what is clearly an apology – Aaron doesn’t need to hear them to know that much. It makes a change; Aaron’s never known anyone so keen to deny any wrongdoing as Andy Sugden – especially when it comes to Robert and their childhood.

Robert keeps his face blank, sitting ramrod straight and staring somewhere past Andy’s shoulder as he listens. But as Andy continues speaking, his face begins softens a little and he eventually begins talking back quietly. Andy fidgets and looks down, but he doesn’t interrupt except to nod occasionally, replying only when Robert finishes speaking. It’s probably the most the Sugden brothers have communicated in years.

Aaron wishes he could lipread. Or that he had a slightly quieter child.

“Daddy!” Seb cries for his attention, hitting him in the chest with a plastic bucket.

“Oh, sorry mate, did you want a shower?” He fills the bucket with water and tips it all over Seb’s head until every inch of him is dripping, causing him to shriek loudly.

“That’s what you get,” Aaron laughs at the indignant expression on his son’s face, before glancing up to see Robert and Andy have stopped talking in favour of watching the scene fondly.

Andy stands and stretches. “I should get going, then,” he says to Robert, who stands to follow him.

“Stay for a bit if you like? We’ve got lemonade in the fridge, lots of ice.”

“Nah, you’re alright. I’m taking Sarah shopping soon,” he claps Robert on the shoulder. “Another time, though?”

“Okay, yeah.”

“I’ll see myself out.” Andy leans down to tickle Seb under the chin. “Enjoy your pool, Seb.”

He starts walking across the grass, before pausing and turning back to them.

“Rob?”

“Yeah?”

“You – you’re my brother,” Andy chews his lip, looking serious. “My family. Family’s supposed to rely on each other, and I made you feel like you couldn’t. I really am sorry.”

There’s a long silence as Robert stares at him, unmoving. For a moment, Aaron thinks he isn’t going to say anything back, and then –

“S’okay, Andy. It’s forgotten.”

“Okay,” Andy nods, sounding relieved. “Oh, and please let Vic know that I’ve spoken to you, will you? Before she castrates me.”

Robert’s mouth twitches. “Can’t have that. I’ll let her know.”

“Cheers. See you, Rob. Aaron.”

Andy takes his leave, shoving his hands in his pockets and disappearing around the corner of the house.

Robert sinks down onto the grass next to Aaron and lets out a long breath.

“Okay?” Aaron asks.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

Robert smiles and presses a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m fine. We talked, it was good.”

That’s probably the most Aaron’s going to get out of him, for now at least, so he smiles back and snakes an arm around his waist. If Robert’s good, then he’s good.

“D’you want me to get the drinks from the – hey!” Robert splutters when he’s cut off by Seb chucking a bucketful of water in his face, giggling madly when he hits his target with impressive accuracy.

“Good aim, kid,” Aaron grins, ruffling Seb’s soaked hair.

[pidayforpi]

Brother’s Sentiment

“Abner...why did you come all the way here?”

“Mr Whitewater Duck, a mail for ya.”

Abner “Whitewater” Duck had never been fond of his family. That’s why he chose to live alone, in a rural small town, instead of the bustling metropolis of Duckburg. He never showed up in any family gathering, nor sent his family a letter or a card. Abner was a loner, and he loved it that way.

The other Ducks had also learned not to disturb their lumberjack relative. They wouldn’t send a letter without a reply letter. They wouldn’t give an invitation only to be rejected or outright ignored. They knew Abner was a loner, and they knew he loved it that way.

But when the local postman handed him a letter sent directly from Duckburg by air, he knew he probably should read it before burning it in the campfire.

“The rich geezer or the broke bloke?” Jay questioned the confused duck. The blue jay bird only knew Scrooge and Donald, the only two relatives to have visited Abner in his faraway town. Abner actually guessed the sender to be one of them. But he was wrong. It was from someone he didn’t know.

“From Hubert and Dewford Duck.”

“Dear Cousin Abner,

Your brother would like to see you. Please come to Duckburg as soon as possible. Meet us at the McDuck Manor.

Love, Your Cousins Huey and Dewey Duck”

“Woo...Someone’s getting high-class...” Jay slyly commented, before receiving a shove from his friend. “Hey! Do you read your clients’ letters?!” Jay let out a chuckle while fixing his postman hat.

“Anyway, it seems like your lil’ bro is dying to meet ya. You should probably go-“ Jay stopped when he noticed the usually loud Abner had gone silent all of a sudden, his eyes covered by the brim of his hat.

“Need me to help send a reply, Whitewater?” Jay quietly uttered, confused and a bit scared by his friend’s unusual meekness. Abner sniffed softly, adjusting his hat with one hand and picking up his axe with another.

“No need. I will give them my reply in person.”

———————————————————

Abner felt like Duckburg hadn’t changed much. Autumn in Duckburg was gloomy as usual, or so he thought. He had not been to the city for half a decade.

Fethry was the only reason for him to go to the city. His younger brother was the only one in the family - and in his social circle - that Abner cared about. Fethry had always been the oddball of the family: He was not as thoughtful as Donald, not as brave as Della, not as lucky as Gladstone, not as helpful as Gus, not as creative as Kildare...

While Donald and Della were out adventuring, Gladstone was non-busily finding $20 notes on the ground, Gus was helping Grandma Duck (and himself) at her bakery, and Kildare was painting the town red (literally)...

Fethry was just lounging by the pond, daydreaming. At the end of a long lumberjack training day, Abner always joined his little brother by the same old pond, watching him look up to the crimson sky, look down to the bottom of the water. The brothers just silently lay down on the ground, until the orange sky faded to black, and Abner held his sibling’s hand as they walked back home under the starry sky.

Abner knew that Fethry, unlike himself, was never a loner. Fethry enjoyed company. Fethry yearned to be recognised. To be appreciated and be of use to others. Yet, being the anomaly of the bunch, talentless and a slow-learner, Fethry had nothing to offer.

“Not even our family give him a place to be in...” That might be one of the reasons Abner never felt the need to bond with his family.

Abner ignored the light mid-autumn rain, and walked down the streets to his uncle’s place with his brown hat covering his head. It was noon in Duckburg, yet the roads seemed lifeless and sad in the shower.

Abner picked up his pace, lest the shower became a downpour. He buttoned up his leather jacket, and hurried to the manor overlooking the city.

(7-3-2020)

———————————————————

“Pst...!Over here, Cousin...err...”

Despite not hearing his name, the voice of a child caught Abner’s attention. He turned to his right, and saw two young ducks hiding next to a bush.

“Dewey, you signed the letter. It’s Cousin Abner.” The duck with a red cap reminded his younger brother, who’s dressed in blue.

“You said it. I ‘signed’ the letter, only.” Dewey retaliated. Huey only rolled his eyes, and motioned Abner to come to them.

“Good afternoon, Cousin Abner. I am Huey Duck, and this is Dewey. Nice to meet you.” The duck in red politely introduced himself and his brother, and bowed his head.

“Yeah...umm...we sent you the letter. Did you...receive it...?” Dewey awkwardly asked while looking at his feet, avoiding Abner’s fierce eye contact.

“Why would I be here, otherwise?” Abner asked sarcastically. Abner would have been shouting at his nephews for their lack of common sense, and somehow attributing it to their city lifestyle.

But not when the two kids were the only clues he had to his little brother.

Dewey sulked after realising his mistake, while Huey swiftly cut in to break the weird atmosphere. “Long story short, Cousin Fethry wanted to see you.”

“...and he’s apparently your little brother...” Added Dewey, face still red with embarrassment.

Abner let out a slight sigh. “Lead me to him then. Will your ‘dear’ Uncle Scrooge give you a limousine ride?”

Dewey quickly put a finger on Abner’s beak with a quiet “shh”. After dramatically looking around like a criminal on the run, Dewey explained to Abner, “Please don’t tell Uncle Scrooge about this visit. Don’t even let him see you, no matter how much you want to meet him.” They obviously knew nothing about Abner.

“Uncle Scrooge doesn’t know about our invitation. He doesn’t even want us to visit Cousin Fethry again.” Huey added, his smile faded.

“Why?” Abner questioned, confused how their loving Uncle Scrooge would separate his family members from one another.

Huey, now grimly held his head down, stated, “Uncle Scrooge didn’t want Cousin Fethry to leave the underwater laboratory.” Abner was shocked, but stayed silent for the duckling to continue.

“Dewey and I visited Cousin Fethry a month ago. We answered his...call. Launchpad took us, without telling Uncle Donald or Scrooge, to the underwater laboratory according to the coordinates Cousin Fethry had given us. Together we went on an adventure to the depth of the ocean.”

“We met his team - which was just a bunch of glowing krill, by the way - and went scuba-diving...above undersea volcanoes! 3000 meters below the sea surface, facing scalding dreams of 400 degree Celsius...Oh, and he told us not to drink seawater. Duh.” Dewey cut in, adding in the details of their adventures, unaware of Abner and Huey’s lack of interest.

“Yes. But after getting back up to the surface, we were...well, caught. Uncle Scrooge was there at the lighthouse, the entrance of the laboratory. We were excited to share with him our adventure, when Uncle Scrooge just urged us into Launchpad’s ship. When Fethry was about to come along, Scrooge...”

Huey paused for a moment, still unable to believe the things he was about to say. “...he hit Fethry with his cane. Hard. And slammed the ship door on him. We left, under the order of Uncle Scrooge, while Cousin Fethry was still on the platform of the lighthouse, holding his right hand in pain.”

“The trip back to land was painfully quiet, but once we were back at the Manor, we couldn’t help but confront Scrooge about his actions.” Dewey said, trembling with anger. “‘He nearly got you lads killed!’ was the only reason Scrooge gave us. When we asked him why Fethry was not allowed to come with us, he just said that doesn’t concern us...”

Dewey bit his lips lightly, whispering just loud enough for Abner to hear. “As if a member of our family being trapped underwater by another member of our family for 4.5 years doesn’t concern us...”

“Fe-Fethry has been there for four...four and a half years...?” Abner’s eyes were wide open, blinking occasionally to hold back tears.

“...Yes. Uncle Scrooge never allowed him to leave the laboratory. Cousin Fethry only survived on fish and self-purified seawater. His only form of communication with the outside world was a tin-can-and-string phone, with one of the cans connected to Scrooge’s office. Cousin Fethry was ignored nonetheless, and we were the first ones to answer his call.” Huey continued.

“And the last call he gave us was about his wish to see you. He gave us the address to your town, and asked us to send a letter to you. That’s why you are here.”

A dead silence followed as the three ducks said nothing for a minute.

Abner eventually broke the silence with a question. “Why would Scrooge want to trap Fethry underseas for four and a half years?” Kildare he might understand, but why Fethry? Why the innocent, naive Fethry Duck?

“I guess you will have to find it out yourself, Cousin.” Dewey answered with a shrug. “Here are the coordinates to the McDuck Sub-lab. Launchpad won’t be able to drive you there, so you might have to hire a boat or swim there.” Dewey took out his phone to show Abner the coordinates. “You want a pen and a piece of paper to write it down?”

Abner took out his own phone, which very much surprised his cousins. “You know, living in the countryside doesn’t mean living in a cave.” Abner showed Dewey his phone number. “Send it to me through SMS.”

(8-3-2020)

———————————————————————————————

“Alrighty.”

Abner quickly searched the location of the coordinates. It really was in the middle of the ocean.

“May I ask...how would you plan to go there?” Huey asked, prompting Abner to look up from his phone. “Uncle Donald probably knows a few sailors...Probably.”

“I can manage it.” Abner said, picking up his brown leather bag.

“What’s that?” Dewey pointed at Abner’s belonging curiously.

“Oh.” Abner opened the zip and pulled out his trusty axe, holding it by the wooden handle. Its iron blade gleaming in the dim light. “You mean this?”

“Eek-!” Dewey literally jumped onto Huey, prompting the older brother to catch the duckling  in his arms. The trembling duck in blue cried out for the only hero he knew. “Gizmoduck! Help!”

“Hey, you asked for it...” Abner tried to calm his cousin down, albeit still holding the axe in his grasp. He was trying to refer to Dewey asking for him to display his axe, but he was not the best with words.

“No———! I did not! Back off!” Dewey tried to move backwards, which nearly threw Huey off balance. “Gizmoduck———!”

“Hey! Keep it down. Didn’t you say not to alert anyon-“ Abner was interrupted when he heard rapid footsteps approaching them. Abner tried to hide himself, but a battle cry signalled him that it was too late.

“Don’t worry, citizens! Gizmoduck is here to rescue! Blathering Blather-“ A brown duck in a lab coat came rushing with a stack of lab reports. But the moment Fenton spotted the well-built lumberjack wielding a sharp axe, looking at him straight in the eyes, even the robo-hero fainted onto the ground, pieces of paper scattered around him on the courtyard.

An awkward silence followed.

Abner looked at the unconscious duck on the ground, the crying duck in blue, and the annoyed duck in red. “Weird city slickers...”

“Umm...You probably should go now, before anyone comes. I will take care of these two.” Huey spoke while dropping Dewey  onto the ground. He held Abner’s hand sincerely, and whispered to him.

“Take Fethry away. Away from his misery.”

Even without Huey’s request, Abner would do that himself.

———————————————————————————————

Abner borrowed a wooden boat from a local fishermen duo. The duo offered a turbo jet, even free of charge. But Abner preferred the old-styled oar-driven boat, and insisted on paying for rent (of $1).

The weather that day was not the best for a sail, but Abner could not wait to see his brother. And he believed that his brother would think the same. He followed the GPS on his phone to the coordinates of the McDuck Sub-lab, and paddled against the current.

Despite living most of his life on land, Abner had learnt how to sail at a young age, thanks to his Junior Woodchuck training. He stopped paddling for a moment, and took out his Junior Woodchuck guidebook from his knapsack. On the first page was a photo of him, Fethry and their fellow teammates. At that time, both of them were ducklings. Abner just got his white feather coat, while Fethry was still a yellow-feathered child. Fethry was the most enthusiastic member of their Junior Woodchuck team. Being a Junior Woodchuck was the only thing Fethry could take pride in.

(9-3-2020)

Fethry was the reason Abner joined the scouting organisation. What was taught by the scoutmasters, such as building a campfire, pitching a tent, and (of course) bringing down a tree, had already been learnt by Abner from his lumberjack mentor. Yet, Abner let his brother demonstrate his skills as a Junior Woodchuck. He joined the organisation after an invitation from Fethry, to share Fethry’s joy and pride of being appreciated and praised by his juniors and seniors. Only as a Junior Woodchuck could Fethry truly be himself.

Abner took one last look at the photo, and closed the guidebook. He would be seeing him soon. In person.

———————————————————————————————

“Hey. You didn’t tell me about this thing here.”

Abner phoned Dewey when he saw the weird machine inside the lighthouse. There were so many buttons and levers on it, Abner didn’t know which would lead him down the lab, and which would set the lab on fire.

“Oh, now you are asking for help.” Dewey said sarcastically. “Not before you say sorry for trying to chop us up.”

Abner slapped his forehead with an audible sound, while Huey slapped Dewey with an audible scream. Huey caught Dewey’s phone with his other hand, and instructed Abner on the machine.

“Just pull the red lever and you are good to go. The one next to two stopwatch-looking thingie, with a green grid screen on top of it. There should be a green arrow pointing down once you pulled the lever.”

Abner pulled the lever as he was told, and the machine started rumbling. “Thanks Cos’.”

“My pleasure. A Junior Woodchuck always helps his fellow Junior Woodchucks.” Said Huey proudly before hanging up the phone. Abner was dumbfounded about how much his newly-met Cousins knew about him, as the elevator took him down to the depth of the ocean.

———————————————————

The elevator stopped suddenly.

Abner nearly lost his footing, before balancing himself with his axe. He tried pulling the lever, but there was no further response. The glass gate to a corridor of the lab only opened slightly, the gap too small for Abner to slide through.

Without any further way to proceed, Abner tried forcing the gate open with the poll of his axe. The glass gate easily gave way, rising up to the top automatically. Abner sighed, seeing how worn-out the lab was. At this point, he wondered if the lab was still in use. Everything looked like it was in ruins.

Abner looked around the corridor: The walls were dirty. The pipes were rusty and broken, with unknown chemical solutions dripping from the holes. The lighting flickered on and off, giving the place an ominous atmosphere. His surrounding was unnervingly quiet, except for the dripping of liquid. As if someone, or something, was waiting for him, watching him from the shadows. The smell was awful, a mix of seawater, chemical wastes and rotten organisms. The wall of the corridor read: “Tully Observatory”.

Abner was known to have nerves of steel, but even he could not help but feel scared. The lab was visibly dangerous. If the boys were not guided by Fethry, Abner doubted he would be here now. He would probably never receive the letter. The letter would have never been written. He held his axe close to himself, eyes darting left and right, up and down to look for potential dangers. He took out his flashlight from his knapsack, and turned it on, holding it in his left hand with his other hand grasping the axe tightly. He could feel his heart racing as he nervously shone the flashlight everywhere. But the light from the flashlight came out wobbly, largely due to his hand uncontrollably trembling.

“Man up, Whitewater!” Abner tried to give himself a pep talk. He was the strongest arm in his town, able to win any wrestling match without breaking a sweat, be it with men or beasts. But now he was alone, sweating involuntarily without a single enemy in sight. Abner was grateful he was alone, lest anyone saw him shaking like a damsel in distress. Yet, part of him was also wishing for company. Someone to fight alongside with him. Someone to give him courage and encouragement.

Suddenly, the light went out. For 1 second. 5 seconds. 10 seconds. 30 seconds...Abner dared not to move, and shone his flashlight in every direction. He wanted to make a run for the elevator, but his strong legs were weak with fear. Abner was near his breaking point. He knew something was there with him, as a hissing sound and a disgusting noise were heard. He strained his ears in the darkness, trying to predict where the enemy, or enemies, would ambush him from, but his head was in a daze. The sounds were getting closer, closer and closer to him. They were coming from all direction. Abner’s heart sank: He was surrounded.

At this point, Abner wished the lights would not turn on again, like a child covering his eyes to not see the monster in front of him. He would rather die in ignorance than die in fear. He dropped the flashlight, and held his axe to himself as tightly as both of his trembling hands could.

Finally, at the worst moment, the lights switched on. Abner came face to face with rows of sharp teeth on the wall of a tunnel to the abyss, with the tunnel stretching to unknown length. He was too late to run. Too late to close his eyes. The monster was right in front of him.

(10-3-2020)

———————————————————

Abner was, to a certain extent, glad that no-one would be there to save him, there to hear him scream. He wildly swung his axe forward, clumsily missing his target just in front of him. He swung again, missing the giant sea worm by half a metre. Despite how large in size they were, the invertebrates were quite agile.

Abner was no trained warrior, but his proficiency in wielding an axe was second to none. The fact that he kept missing his targets dampened his battle spirit: He didn’t have a chance against the monster.

Suddenly, just before going in for another careless attack, Abner felt his feet leaving the metal ground. Abner’s heart sank even lower when he was lifted off the ground. He frantically glanced around despite hanging midair: His feet was caught. He was caught.

Worse still, his hand slipped, thanks to his cold sweat on his palm and the disgusting, slimy substance of the beasts. He dropped his axe. His only weapon. He could only desperately look at his axe falling to the stone cold ground, away from his hand, until a loud clunk could be heard.

Abner had no time to fear for the worst. The monster quickly wrapped its body around the duck, squeezing the warmth out of him. Not even the strongest arm in the countryside could resist the constrictor. He tried pushing at the smooth, jade-green skin of the worm, with all the strength he could muster. It didn’t even bulge. Uh oh.

The predator, though without eyes, sensed its prey trying to push his way free. A quick coil pinned his arms to his body, immobilising those nasty limbs. Oh no.

With only his head and feet free, Abner knew that was the end for him. No way to help him escape. No way to struggle. No way to cry for help (at least, no one to hear him). He frantically thrashed around helplessly, heart pounding, eyes wide open with fear.

He made the long trip to Duckburg, met two of his distant cousins, knew his brother’s ordeal, went to where his brother was trapped, and now he’s going to die without even catching a glimpse of his brother. For four and a half years...he had no contact with his brother. And he would soon be no longer to hear from his dear Fethry forever.

The sea worm tightened its crushing grip, subduing even one of the toughest ducks in the world. Abner’s struggling ceased. He felt that his seemingly limitless strength had been squeezed out. Abner could only squirm weakly, watching as his predator loomed over his relatively small body. The pair of lips split to reveal the tunnel of fangs, seeming endless in length.

Perhaps he was already too late. There’s no way Fethry could fight this monstrosity. Perhaps Fethry wasn’t in the lab anymore. This was the way to see his brother. This was how the two brothers could finally reunite. Abner’s view turned black, as the ravenous maw closed in...

“Hey, meanie! Leave him alone!” A strange yet familiar voice shouted out, echoing through the corridor. Though muffled, Abner could recognise that voice. The voice he had missed for nearly half a decade, the voice he came here for.

Fethry rushed to the base of Abner’s captor, patting the worm’s body, rubbing his beak against it. “You wouldn’t hurt a kind soul, would you? You lil’ angel...We have to treat our guests with love and respect!”

Upon “hearing” Fethry’s persuasion, the sea monster let out a sad whine, stopping its swallowing albeit still trapping its prey in its mouth. It’s still not giving up.

Fethry started to get impatient, but reminded himself to fight with kindness. “That’s my big bro, our VIP. We have to show our Atlantis-tic hospitality! You are a good host, right? A good host gives his guest personal space and freedom. I know you can do it...” Fethry encouraged the sea worm with a light kiss to its smooth, slimy body. Satisfied, the sea worm spat its prey out onto the ground, and lowered its head for a pat from Fethry. It slithered back to the lab’s extensive tunnel system, along with its fellow sea worms. The corridor once again became silent, except for the dripping of liquid.

———————————————————————————————

Fethry rushed to his brother’s side, checking for breath and pulse. Both were weak, but at least detectable. Abner lied against the metal wall, still drained and dizzy from the near-death experience. He slowly opened his eyes, meeting his little brother’s.

Fethry pulled Abner into a hug, despite Abner still being covered in the worm’s secretions. Fethry didn’t care. He missed his big bro. So, so bad.

(19-3-2020)

From just a single hug, Abner could feel all the warmth that had been squeezed out returned to him. Even in a daze, Abner could feel his brother’s emotions, his smile and tears. Four and a half years, across the ocean and over the mountains, the two brothers had finally reunited. To think that should Fethry had arrived five minutes later, just less than a jiffy to rescue his brother from the foul, mutated creature, the two brothers would had been forever parted by the death door. Fethry couldn’t imagine waiting in solitude for so long, only to see his brother die in front of him. A mixed feeling of happiness, sadness, anticipation, loneliness and guilt flooded Fethry’s mind, his grip tightening around Abner’s waist.

Abner knew that mixed feeling was mutual. Although unable to hug back due to his arms still numb, Abner said nor did anything, letting the welled-up emotions fill his heart, and express themselves in the form of tears.

———————————————————————————————

It was Fethry who let go first. Once he did, the good old enthusiastic Fethry was back.

“Big bro! You really did accept my invitation! I am so happy!” Fethry jumped up and down, visually showing his unnatural happiness.

Abner felt something a bit off, but went along with Fethry for now. “Yeah. I...uh, read your letter. Or your cousins’ letter. They met me at the McDuck Manor, and guided me here to find you. You said you have-“ “Oh! So you met the two lil’ Donalds! They were cute, weren’t they? I especially like the Red Donald. He’s a Junior Woodchuck too!” Fethry interrupted before Abner could finish. Fethry was always the bubbly type, so Abner was used to his enthusiasm.

“Yea. Um...’Huey’ was quite helpful. The other one...not so much.” Abner said as he got up from the floor, his legs still weak and numb. His entire body was drenched, but he got neither the energy nor the motivation to dry himself right now.

“Um...I...” Abner looked down, hands messing with his hair aimlessly. Fethry looked at him with his huge, watery eyes, waiting for his brother. “Th...than...thanks for saving me just now. I...I don’t know what would happen if...if you didn’t co...come to he...help. Thanks, Fethry.” Abner managed to utter the last sentence of gratitude without stuttering. Abner never owed anyone anything, and now he owed his life to his dear brother.

“Aww shucks...It was nothing.” Fethry puffed his chest proudly. “A Junior Woodchuck always helps his fellow Junior Woodchucks.” Abner chuckled as he saw the resemblance between his cousin Huey and his brother. No wonder Fethry liked Huey so much.

“Come on! I’ll show you around.” Fethry proposed as he took off his jacket, and put it on Abner. “You’ll catch a cold, big bro. Wear this!” Abner wouldn’t want to make his brother’s coat dirty, but he couldn’t deny that he was freezing. Partly because his head was uncovered right now...

“That’s right! Where’s your hat?” Fethry pointed out, before Abner even noticed his hat missing. “Must have been taken by that...thing as a souvenir. Won’t risk taking it back.” Abner shivered at the thought of fighting those monstrous sea worms again, that feeling of pure fear still lingering in his head.

“Oh, no! Your head must be kept constantly warm to prevent...brain-freezing! A warm head is a happy and healthy head...” So Fethry’s still believing in that self-help book? “No, I’m fine. Just need a quick rest...”

“Here, take this on!” Without hesitation, Fethry took off his stocking cap, and put it on Abner’s head. Fethry never took his stocking cap off. Fethry was never successfully convinced to take his stocking cap off. Fethry never doubted that self-help book’s advice of keeping your head warm to keep it healthy. And now he’s taking his cap off on his own, under no pressure or threat, and putting it on someone else’s head, while leaving his head bare and unprotected? Fethry’s love for his brother was so great, even Abner couldn’t comprehend.

“Th...thank you, Fethry...” Abner uttered in disbelieve, fixing his new undersized jacket and stocking cap. “Don’t mention it! They look great on you!” Fethry smiled.

(20-3-2020)

“I’ll take you on a tour! You are our honourable third guest!” Fethry walked forward down the corridor, looking back to signal Abner to come with him. Despite still having questions...a lot of questions...Abner decided keep his beak shut for the moment. Questions could wait. He retrieved his axe from the floor, and let Fethry take his hand.

———————————————————————————————

“And now, we come to the abode of the one and only Fethry Duck. Behold!” Fethry said in a tour guild’s voice, as the brothers entered Fethry’s abode. The pod was inhabitable, but clearly in disrepair.

Fethry’s voice was optimistic and persuasive, but the fact that the pod, along with the rest of the lab, was not a homely place was obvious. The golden-yellow paint on the wall was tearing off. Every piece of fabric was sewed up again and again (despite Fethry’s fine sewing skills, the evidence that those cloths have been used for years was inevitably visible). Electricity was still supplied throughout the lab, albeit unstably, as it was generated by the “hydrothermal vents” (as Fethry had explained). Living here for four and a half years was, to a small extent, possible, especially given how adaptable and creative Fethry was. But would anyone want to live in such a condition for so long?

(21-3-2020)

A torn poster was decorated on the wall. The only phrases readable were the title “Signs of Ocean Madness” and a bullet point “Isolation for Long Period of Time”. Abner wouldn’t say Fethry had gone mad, but he sure did feel...different. Different from a person suffering from isolation for long period of time. Why was the poster there in the first place? One of the partly-torn bullet point involved the word “Pressure”, and Huey reported Fethry trying to “depressurise” himself from the deep sea pressure. Was Fethry trying to stay sane while being trapped here? Was the torn poster a symbol that he had failed?

“So this is where I live. Simple and sweet. Not too much, not too little.” Fethry showed Abner his “home” by spinning around. “My bed, my sofa my stove, my tea kettle, my dishes, my towel, my empty coffee bean jar...” Among the possessions Fethry listed, he missed one prominent item in the room. One type of household item that was in excess quantity and diversity: Cleaning goods.

Fethry didn’t mention it, but Abner knew that much cleaning chemicals and tools were unnecessary for a pod this small.

“...my cupboard, my curtain, my window, through which you can see the beautiful ocean view - well, in depth...and...Oh! My team!” Fethry dashed to the an even smaller storage room, before Abner could stop him. He took out a jar of seawater, which, on mild stirring, began to glow. Bioluminescent krill. It was the first time Abner saw anything bioluminescent other than fireflies. The krill were beautiful, but Abner had no more time. Abner was happy that his little brother was happy, but something tells him Fethry was not. Questions could wait, but it was too long.

“My team, meet my big bro. My big bro, meet my team-“

“Why-“ Abner cut him off before he could introduce his “team”. That was obviously not a team, whatever the nature of the team was. Fethry was obviously hiding something. There’s no way he could feel so happy.

Yes, he just met his “long lost” brother. But then he’s taking Abner on a tour around his prison, without hinting why he was sent to this prison in the first place, or his feelings when trapped in this hell. Fethry asked his cousins to send his brother a distress signal, and his cousins added additional information on how pathetic the situation Fethry was in now. Fethry might hide the truth from the boys, as they were still acquaintances, and Fethry might not want to badmouth their dear Uncle Scrooge in front of them.

But there’s no reason why Fethry would ask the boys to send a long distance mail by air to Abner’s town, urged Abner to come all the way to the McDuck Sub-lab, only to take him on a tour around the lab. There’s no reason why Fethry would hide the truth from Abner, the only family member he could trust. He couldn’t hide it.

Fethry was evading. And Abner could see through it.

“Why could I fend off the sea worms? Oh...You see, they feel affection...” The sea worm attack was an hour ago. “So instead of fists, you fight with kisses! Red lil’ Donald’s tactic worked! I should write that in my Junior Woodchuck Guidebook...”

Fethry put down the jar on the cupboard, took the guidebook from his bed, and began flipping through the pages to find a blank one. When he did, however, Abner put his right hand on the page, pushing the guidebook down. Fethry was wacky, but he’s not stupid. He knew he had been exposed. He’s just buying time now.

“Fethry, level with me. Please.” Abner requested firmly. “Why would Scrooge trap you here for four and a half years?” Fethry didn’t tell Abner he had been here for four and a half years, let alone the fact that Scrooge was the culprit.

The question pinpointed the problem at its core. There’s no escape for Fethry now. He dropped the smile on his face, and the guidebook in his hands.  He lowered his head, and said nothing for the next minute. Abner waited, as Fethry was internally struggling to open the lid to his bottled-up feelings. Betrayal, rejection, isolation...

Fethry’s hands rarely balled into fists, his entire body shifted from shaking to trembling. Fethry could lie, but he couldn’t lie to himself.  When those bottled-up emotions were let out, Fethry easily collapsed.

He fell onto his knees, his hands covering his face. Not even his hands could contain the flowing tears, which slipped through the gaps of his fingers. Four and a half years’ worth of buried sadness manifested into a pathetic wail, echoing in the small pod. He cried, screamed, shouted, cursed...It wasn’t the first time Abner saw his brother cry, but it was the first time he saw his brother cry this hard, this intense. Fethry hit the cold, hard ground with his fists. It surely hurt, but not as much as it was in his heart. Scrooge, Scrooge McDuck, Uncle Scrooge...Four and a half years, because of this man, this relative, this...”idol” of his.

Fethry needed some time. Some alone time. Abner watched as his brother expressed his feelings wildly in his so-called “home”, not saying a word, not doing an action.

In merely fifteen minutes, four and a half years’ time suddenly burst forward.

———————————————————

“So, the boys told you about what happened when they left...” Fethry, still looking down, stressed on the word “they”. He wasn’t allowed on board, on board the ship to freedom. That slap on the hand started to hurt again.

Abner sat on the ground to get to the same level as Fethry. Fethry had the answer to his own question.

“Ten years ago, I left from our hometown to Duckburg. I heard Donald and Della were going on adventures with Uncle Scrooge again, from Gladdy. Of course they wouldn’t involve me in their adventures. They wouldn’t even want me to know about their adventures.” Fethry said with a strong hint of sadness. It was after a visit by Gladstone Gander that Fethry left for Duckburg, but Abner never thought what really drove Fethry to his uncle was the postcard sent to Gladstone by Donald.

“I had been pushed aside, neglected and ignored for so long, I wanted to prove myself I could be as successful as anyone else. I wanted to prove that I am not just a Junior Woodchuck. I am more than a Junior Woodchuck. I am talentless. I am useless. I am weak. But I thought: Through determination and creativity, nothing is impossible. Isn’t this how Uncle Scrooge became the richest duck in the world? ‘Tougher than the toughies, smarter than the smarties...’, eh?” Fethry recited that phrase with pure bitterness. The phrase he once lived by had come back to bite him.

“When I arrived at Duckburg, however, Uncle Scrooge had stopped adventuring. Apparently, Della had laid three eggs, which are, of course, the three boys. Without Della, the adventure team stopped its operation.”

“‘That was my chance!’ I thought to myself. I could substitute Della as the third member while she waited for the eggs to hatch. After proving my abilities, I could become the fourth member of the team.”

“But Uncle Scrooge outright rejected my offer. ‘You are too incompetent,’ he coldly said to me. ‘Don’t think your Junior Woodchuck skills make you a genius.’ I understand. I am not as strong as Donald. I am not as brave as Della. But I have a heart for adventure as passionate as both of them. I am also a Junior Woodchuck like both of them. Somehow, being a ‘jack of all trade, master of none’ automatically makes you useless.”

“I tried to prove my worth as a team member. I had thought of possible locations for treasure hunting, researching the geographic and the fauna of those areas, thus working out the level of difficulty of different destination. I had also provided solutions, and self-invented gadgets if necessary. But all my proposals were not even given a glance. All my gadgets were not even given a trial. I understand Della was an irreplaceable member of the team. I wasn’t trying to replace her. I just wanted to be like her. Be a part of the team. Be...like Scrooge.”

“A man of miracles, hailing from the highlands of Scotland, travelled to the land of America at a young age of 18, gained his own bucket o’ gold from the gold rush at 20, and established his own company at the tender age of 22.5. Just four and a half years, Scrooge McDuck was already on his way to fame and glory. A man of miracles, indeed.”

(22-3-2020)

“And even the richest duck in the world couldn’t escape bad luck, it seemed. One day, I came to the McDuck Manor, and bumped into Donald with the three eggs. I didn’t need Donald to tell me what happened. It was all on the news. The niece of the richest duck in the world went missing in space. Poor ol’ Uncle Scrooge poured his heart and soul into saving his beloved niece. I had never seen him look that pathetic: His eyes were red with crying, his sleeves wet with tears. His feathers were all puffed up and ruffled. His office was in a mess. Oh, poor Uncle Scrooge.” Despite his wording and apparently sympathetic attitude, Abner could hear a strong satirical tone in his innocent little brother’s speech.

“Donald took up the responsibility to take care of the three little Donalds. I wanted to help, but Donald insisted on being the sole caretaker. Donald never like owing people things.”

“The only thing I can do is take care of Uncle Scrooge. Duckworth’s ageing body started to fail him, so I volunteered to help take care of my own uncle.”

“Those days were tough. Very tough. I believe Donald felt the same when raising three children on his own. Uncle Scrooge didn’t seem like himself. Once the owner of the world, now a pathetic old man. I did everything for him. Meals, cleaning, laundry, fetching newspaper, collecting mails, gardening...And he said my Junior Woodchuck skills meant nothing...”

“Dr Gearloose, as usual, helped in the repairing of electronic appliances, while Mr Duckworth helped deal with the press and the entrepreneurs. Those days were hard, but there, I found a meaning for my life. Despite I was just taking care of my uncle, I felt like someone appreciated me for the first time since I left the Junior Woodchucks. I felt like I was being treasured, being noticed. I was an apprentice of the legendary Scrooge McDuck!”

“I didn’t want his wealth or fame. I just want the attention  he gets. Not the one from reporters, but from his family. That’s all I ask for: A place in this family. Where I can be myself, and be welcomed and accepted.”

“After a year or two, things started to get back together. The money bin was filled with coins and treasures again. The stock price of McDuck Enterprises was rising again. Even I was just being a caretaker, I felt like I had done something great for the family. I felt like I played a part to save McDuck Enterprises, and Uncle Scrooge himself. There weren’t any celebrations, but I was clapping my hands in my heart intensely when the news arrived.”

“Uncle Scrooge returned to his former glory. The last ray of sunlight at dusk seeped through the curtains into his office. Uncle Scrooge was asleep in his chair, tired from a day’s work. Even on a sunny day, autumn in Duckburg could be chilling. I took a blanket from the closet, and placed it on Uncle Scrooge. His drowsy ‘thank you’ was all I needed. Two words gave me the will to live on. A smile gave me the energy to move on. Just being by his side filled me with happiness. Just being with Uncle Scrooge gave me the meaning in life. I don’t need adventures anymore. I had found my position, my value.”

“But life just wouldn’t give ol’ Scrooge a break. Fate just likes to mess with people, you know?” Fethry’s voice deepened, signalling a dark turn of events.

“Five years ago, Mr Duckworth passed away. He had fought bravely against death for five years to witness the rebirth of Scrooge McDuck, but he succumbed to his disease on a beautiful autumn morning. The morning glory bloomed quietly in the garden, its speaker-shaped flowers listening to the silent prayers of the elderly duck.”

“We were afraid what happened five years before would happen again. It didn’t, in their eyes. But it did, in mine.”

“McDuck Enterprises didn’t fall into depression, but Uncle Scrooge did. It wasn’t very visible this time, and only Dr Gearloose and I noticed Scrooge’s abnormal behaviour. He had been working much. Too much. He could take care of himself. He ate, slept, bathed...but then it’s back to working time. The only socialising he did was with business partners. He only talked to Dr Gearloose about research and design. Nothing more.”

“Not being part of his enterprises, Uncle Scrooge didn’t talk to me at all. Except complaints about incomplete or imperfect houseworks. I still had my job, but the meaning was starting to fade. I was still Uncle Scrooge’s caretaker, but that’s all I was. I was treated as though I was being paid. I wasn’t appreciated. I wasn’t needed. Scrooge could take care of himself. What I was providing was no longer required. I was no longer important.”

“I was never appreciated in the first place. The one receiving the glory was Mr Duckworth, the forever faithful mister butler.  He was the one who saved Uncle Scrooge. I was just pretending to be in his spotlight. Now that Mr Duckworth was gone, the spotlight ceased, and I realised I was the jester on the stage, not even close to a sidekick.”

(23-3-2020)

“I stayed by his side, taking the role of Mr Duckworth before a replacement could be found. Funny how I was now taking the role of someone else, like I always wanted, but I felt nothing. For half a year, I didn’t exist in this world. I was invisible, non-existing, intangible. Anxiety crept in as I realised my meaning in life getting away from me. I needed to be of use. I needed to contribute to McDuck Enterprises. Only then...I would feel Uncle Scrooge’s appreciation.”

“I asked for whether he needed any help. I had done all the necessary housework as possible, and asked for extra work for the Enterprises. The reply was surprising. Unfortunately surprising.” Abner frowned slightly as he knew what the job would be.

“‘Yes.’ He said. He introduced me to the McDuck Sub-lab, where I would be working as a scientist. The Sub-lab at that time looked nothing like this. Golden walls, brightly illuminated hallways, well-furnished laboratories...I was overjoyed when I stepped into the Sub-lab. I imagined how my life in the McDuck Enterprises would be: Me, working among elites from all over Duckburg, doing experiments and research with hundreds of Dr Gearloose, doing demonstrations and presentations in front of thousands of Scrooge McDuck...A life full of meaning was there in my reach.”

(24-3-2020)

Abner listened quietly, and kept his confusion to himself. Didn’t his cousins told him Fethry was just a caretaker of the lab?

“To think I could be second to Dr Gearloose, the greatest inventor in Duckburg, I was more than delighted. Childish it may seem, but I always aspire to be a scientist. A person who can change someone’s life. A person who can change the world for the better. I just find it meaningful to help others. Must be all that teaching back in the Junior Woodchuck.”

“That’s why I invited you to Duckburg at Christmas of that year, big bro.”

Fethry looked up, looking at Abner’s shocked expression. Abner seldom answered his family’s invitation. His family seldom gave Abner invitation. But that Christmas, five years ago, Abner accepted his brother’s invitation. He knew there must be a reason why Fethry, the one who knew him the most, would invite him to a family gathering on purpose.

———————————————————————————————

At the front door of the McDuck Manor, there he was: Fethry waving at his brother in the front garden, wearing a bright smile that warmed Abner’s heart in the evening snowfall. That was the first and only time Abner entered the Manor. He would never think of getting in there if it wasn’t because of that letter from Fethry.

Despite the Fethry’s warm welcome, the bright lighting and the fragrant aroma of wintry herbs, the inside of the Manor was colder than the outside. The Manor seemed unusually big, thanks to the lack of occupants. It’s true: Scrooge would stay in his office, while Gyro would stay at home. One hated Christmas, one hated human interactions in general. That “family gathering” was between the two brothers only.

Still, Fethry prepared everything himself: The invitation, the decorations, the hospitality, the food...That full-course meal was the best Abner had ever had. After all, which chef in all of Duckburg - or in the world - would know what he personally liked the most?

Together, the two brothers warmed up the three-storey manor. On the Christmas day five years ago, laughter filled the McDuck Manor. The long-gone festive atmosphere surrounded the Manor. The winter moonlight illuminated the once misery abode. For one night, a couch beside the fireplace became the most cozy place in the city. For one night, a plain bunk bed became the most comfortable place in the world.

For one night, a Christmas miracle was bestowed to the Duck family.

———————————————————————————————

But little did Abner know, the Christmas present given to him that year was a parting gift.

Fethry didn’t tell his brother about his new “occupation”. He wanted to invite his brother to his new working place for a tour once he started working there. But surely, that dream didn’t come true until now, four and a half years later.

“I wanted to celebrate with you, brother.” Fethry held Abner’s hand. “That was the best Christmas I had ever enjoyed ever since we grew up and went separate ways. I wish that Christmas night would repeat. That happiness and warmth I experienced would come back to me...” Fethry was close to tears, but held them back with a soft sniff.

“And then, I didn’t experience any Christmas at all for four years. The next spring, I was brought to the Sub-lab by a submarine, guided to the depth of the building complex, and left stranded here until now. Uncle Scrooge promised the other scientists would be joining me soon, but I should have known better. A tin can for communication? How silly of me. I watched as the Uncle Scrooge left with the only vehicle to freedom, and disappeared into the spring mist. I remembered I waved at him, smiling. I could imagine Scrooge doing the same, smiling at his gullible nephew.”

“While waiting for my non-existing colleagues, I did the only thing I know. The thing I once did to save the company: Caretaking. I found the cleaning goods in this pod, and made the whole laboratory sparkly cleaned, ready for scientists from all over the world to join me underseas.”

“For days, weeks, months, years...nobody came. The tin can must have rung countless times, but nobody answered. I tried joking, shouting, screaming for response, but nobody replied. I waited on the dock of the lighthouse for ships from McDuck enterprises, or just from any good Samaritan, but nobody even passed by in the murky sea. I don’t have a submarine, ship or boat. Even if I did, the only coordinates I have was of this cursed Sub-lab. I wouldn’t know where to go. Swimming back to land was suicide. I have learnt enough to know how dangerous the wonders of the sea could be. That’s when I knew: I am truly trapped in this deserted laboratory.”

“Food was running short. Clean water was running short. Fear was running high. Even with my Junior Woodchuck guidebook, I can’t survive on my own in the middle of nowhere. Worse still, the chemical waste and the hydrothermal vents were turning my sea companions into murderous monsters.”

“What started out small enough to fit my palm mutated into unmeasurable length. You aren’t the only one scared of those sea worms, big brother. The first time I met one of those, I knew I was going to die. Just one of those monsters, and I was immediately subdued. My eyes wide opened, my feet dangling midair. I was cornered, trapped, vulnerable. That was the end for me, I was convinced. That was where I would die. That was how I would die. Alone, scared, hopeless, helpless...”

“I cried. Pathetically. At the mercy of my predator, I didn’t use my hands to struggle. I didn’t use my hands to beg for salvation. I used my hands to cover my face, wiping away ever-flowing tears. That wouldn’t help, but I knew I couldn’t save myself anyway. I was weak. I would never be tougher than the toughies, smarter than the smarties. I just couldn’t. I cry when I am scared. I panic when I am startled. At the end, I am just a whiny kid.”

“My discovery about those worms was the result of that near-death experience. The monster loosened its grapple, from a crushing grip to a gentle embrace. It softly set me down onto the floor, and nuzzled my face. They may not have eyes or noses, but they can sense emotions. It must had sensed my sadness, and felt my tears dripping onto its smooth skin. These were my buddies, originally my predators. I was pathetic enough to treat my killers as my friends. I was pathetic enough to let those cold, smily skin give me warmth and comfort.”

(30-3-2020)

Fethry paused for a brief moment, before letting out a little laugh. “On the other hand...” He pointed at the torn poster on the wall. “That is what Scrooge gave me. A mockery, letting me know I’m going insane: My cries for help are just ‘signs of madness’. My fears of dying are merely ‘paranoia’...”

The laughter turned from a chuckle to a hysterical cackle. “When I look at that poster...That worn-out piece of paper bearing the logo of McDuck Enterprises, signed by Scrooge McDuck himself...” Fethry touched the window of the pod, looking at the deep sea outside. “My anger as scalding as the vocanlos, but my sorrow as blue as the sea.”

Abner looked at the jar of bioluminescent krill Fethry was hugging close to himself. The dim blue lights from the critters reminded him of the twinkling stars back at their hometown. Fethry must have thought the same: Whenever Fethry stared lovingly at his “team”, was he thinking of his hometown? Those carefree days observing the starlit night sky with his brother on the meadow. He used to make a wish to the stars every night. Was he doing the same to the krill? How many wishes had he made during those four and a half years?

“But...” Abner hesitated to say the question he had been wanting to ask. “Why would Scrooge do this to you?”

Fethry didn’t answer immediately, still looking at the deep sea. Abner patiently waited, silently worrying he might had asked a wrong question. Was it something Fethry had done? Did Fethry not have the answer?

“Uncle Scrooge wanted a start over.”

Fethry whispered, looking back at Abner.

“Ever since Della went missing, Donald went away, I was the only person who would remind Uncle Scrooge of his past, adventure days. After Mr Duckworth passed away, Scrooge wanted to move on. Falling into depression a second time taught Scrooge the only way to rehabilitation was to let go of the past.”

“I’m his life reset button. Only by removing me could Uncle Scrooge forget the past and return to his former success. When I realised I was trapped here, I understood Scrooge’s intention: Getting rid of me, dead or alive.”

Fethry showed a sad smile.

“At the end, I was saving McDuck Enterprises after all.”

———————————————————————————————

A faint ray of light pierced through the glass into the pod.

The sky must had cleared up. For light to penetrate through the deep ocean layers, the sunlight out there must be very bright.

The sunlight illuminated Fethry’s smile, like an angel trapped in hell, yet basked in heaven’s light.

And Abner’s going to free this angel from his underwater prison. He’s going to give his brother the salvation he had deserved for four and a half years.

Abner stood up, walking behind Fethry, and returned his jacket and stocking cap, helping him put on the clothing. Before he could decline the offer, Abner held his brother’s hand, helping him up.

“We’re getting out of here, Fethry.”

The younger brother replied with a nod and a smile, his watery eyes showing his gratitude and happiness.

Just like in the past, back in the rural hometown: A big brother holding his younger brother’s hand, walking home in the dark.

Axe in one hand, his brother’s hand in another, Abner walked through the ruined underwater lab for the second and the last time. What seemed like hell just an hour ago was a bit more homely now. The cold, metallic ground underneath was now the path to freedom.

Walking towards the wall labelled “Tully Observatory”, Abner faced the predator again. The sea worm came out of its hiding spot, tilting its head at the duo. Abner let go of his brother, dropped his axe voluntarily, and paddled towards the monster whom he had feared just a while ago. The duck embraced his predator, patting the head previously trying to devour him.

“Thank you for accompanying my brother.” Abner uttered, a bit unbelieving that he’s talking to a seemingly non-sentient being. Whether it understood or not, Abner felt that he must give his gratitude to the only company his brother had had until their two young cousins came to visit.

The sea worm let out a contented whine, like a cat’s purr. Despite having no limbs or visible sensory organs, that creature was quite sensitive. The invertebrate bent its body, seemingly trying to cough out something. Abner put out his hands to receive the “gift”, which was no other than his own brown hat.

Slightly disgusted, but heart-warmed, Abner gave the monster one last pat, put on the hat, before taking his axe and his brother’s hand again.

———————————————————————————————

The sky in the outside world looked like it had never rained before. The evening shade was a mix of aqua and orange, with sparse clouds a deep blue colour. Distant light from lighthouses and ships looked like twilight stars fallen from the sky, gleaming brightly on the water surface. The waves were calm, the breeze gentle, as if it was the start of a new journey.

Abner stepped onto the boat, putting his axe back into his leather bag, his knapsack beside him, while taking the oar in his hand. Fethry looked at the lighthouse one last time - his home for nearly half a decade - but his heart was now calm as the evening tides. He had left his sadness, wrath, despair, and agony down on the sea bed. Uncle Scrooge was right: Only by letting go of the past could someone move forward.

Fethry flipped a switch, turning the lights off. No need for the beacon of hope, now that the stars were in his reach. Fethry took a deep breath, and turned around to his brother.

“Let’s go home, big brother.”

(7-3-2020 ~ 11-6-2020)

———————————————————————————————

-Oh my god I finally finished it.

-This is actually the first fan-fiction I have started in my life, but the fourth to finish writing. This is also probably the longest story I will ever write. I’m sorry I’m impatient and lazy.

-Like “122,640 Days” (and “Hey Laddie”(?)), I wrote most of “Brother’s Sentiment” before and during my public exam. I’m sorry I’m a terrible student.

-(Okay back to the story) This story is an AU (?) of the Ducktales (2017) episode “The Depth of Cousin Fethry!” (S02E02), in which Huey and Dewey did not (could not) free Fethry after their visit to the McDuck Sub-lab, so as to give way for Fethry’s big brother Abner “Whitewater” Duck. The lab was not destroyed during the kids’ visit (sorry Mitzy no playing hero for you).

-I also tried to give a backstory as to why Fethry ended up in the lab in the first place, a description of Fethry’s feelings for being trapped for four and a half years, and a reason for Scrooge’s decision of trying to indirectly kill his relative, etc. These aspects were not explored in the series and were thus non-canon.

-Also non-canon was Scrooge’s road to fame as described in the story. I know there’s a detailed backstory about Scrooge’s rise to power (?), but I am not a real fan I didn’t do my research I’m sorry wanted to fit the time “4.5 years” so as to make a comparison between Scrooge and Fethry.

-The story was written (finished) at the start of Season 3 (up to S03E07). More of Fethry may be explored (Abner screen debut please), so the story really is all my imagination.

Two songs I listened to while writing (most of) the story:

Mitsuha’s Theme (三葉のテーマ), from Your Name https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=NHefLo230SE

Kataware Doki (かたわれ時), also from Your Name https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Uy3NpQRJntc

———————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading my first story. Have a nice day!

[mka1098]

My Love is God

My Love Is God

Veronica x JD modern AU 

Rating: M

Warnings: swearing; death; murder; depictions of violence and blood; mentions of sociopathy and insanity; sex

I have a couple of things to explain about this AU because it’s a bit confusing. This is also gonna be a mess since I’m trying something new here. 

Backstory: JD and Veronica met in the lunchroom of their senior year when JD moved to her school. They met in a 7-11 and he was drawn to her and she didn’t push him away. They made close friends and he was so utterly in love with her. JD admitted his family problems to her and a lot of the deranged thoughts in his head. Veronica loved him a lot so she calmed him down and took him to therapy. It took time but he began to control his bloodlust and anger issues. Being 18, he moved out of his father’s house and found an apartment nearby Veronica’s home. JD became a normal teenager, more troubled than most but never wanted to do anything like bomb the school again. Veronica was his lifeline. She had saved him and helped him and he knew that. He fought his dangerous tendencies and continued going to therapy. One day, Veronica got into a huge fight with her best friend, Heather Chandler, who wanted her to get with one of the college boys at her party. It ends with them no longer being friends and Veronica humiliates Heather but reveals that Heather was too scared to even get close to kissing the college guy she was with. Heather is angered by this and hatches a plan to kill Veronica; she succeeds. And JD has just found out. 

Go easy on me please; it’s my first time writing present tense and I’m very lost 

My Love Is God

Heather Chandler hums to the mirror in her locker. Powdering her face during the passing period between the 4th and 5th period had become a regular affair. Her face got so oily; what a treacherous look would it be if people saw her face shiny? Biting her lip, Heather adjusts the red scrunchie in her hair. Ram has previously mussed it up in class and if not for her reputation; she’d rip hima  new asshole.

“Heather.” A voice calls behind her. Her eyes roll back in annoyance; who the hell thought that they were good enough to address her? 

“What in god’s name, do you want.” She says with bite in her voice. Her view catches on a darkened teen-boy. His long trenchcoat looked solely out of fashion and terrible for the nice summer weather. Her nose crinkled at his look. Face nearly covered up to the eyes, the boy stares directly at her. His dark brown eyes narrow into slits. 

“I’d like to take this outside.” He says with a dead tone. Heather’s eyes roll. What was the point of entertaining some idiot’s needs?

“Look, I don’t give a fuck about what you like. I have people to attend to, so unless you have an upper. Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” She snaps. His expression remains unfazed, much to her annoyance. He was supposed to cower and fade into the background. What a \\\ douche. She fluffs her ponytail and steps out away from her locker. 

“If that’s what it will take.” He calls after her. Heather spins around, glaring at him harshly. If this kid was kidding, she was going to end him. Heather puts out her hand, accepting the offer. “One the condition… we take this outside.” He continues. His stare was burning into hers. Heather inwardly scoffs at that, she had a harsh look and didn’t appreciate anyone matching it. 

Heather breaths in but finally caves. She was fresh out and in need. “Fine.” 

The teen doesn’t say much to her on the way; he was taking long, stiff strides. His arms and hands were clenched into fists. Heather had become a master of reading body language. This boy had a plan, but clearly, was unsure about it. Heather spoke not a word. Her eyes scan over him like a hawk. His appearance did merit a reliable product, that was for certain. That terrible coat would be great for cover. 

“Where are you taking me?” Heather demands. It had registered that she had not a clue his name minutes prior however, she knew better than to act like a fool and ask like a child. “I have places to be after this. Do not, make me late. You will regret up.” Heather says haughtly, giving no empty promises. 

He stops suddenly, their surroundings were empty streets and a 7-11 in only the visible future. Heather growls harshly under her breath. “You want to know where we are? We’re here. Where it all began.” He spoke in a low tone. It was slightly raspy and very attractive if she were to be honest. Heather’s perfected blonde brow rose. 

“I know your plan. I catch on quick. I get it, I’m hot, I’m a heather. I’m the Heather. If you want a quickie I take them in a closet. You’re just extra.” Heather says in a cackling tone. If only the other Heather were here; they’d love the show of embarrassing a loner. 

The boy’s expression began to morphe, not into embarrassment, not into fluster, not even impression. Instead, his hand reaches up to the hood and it tugs the fabric down behind him. “I’m not interested in fucking you.” He says in a deadpan tone. Heather laughs in a wicked way. This boy was stupid, sure but amusing as well. 

“That’s cute.” She says, putting on a seductive smirk. The boy scowled at her. 

It was now she could see his features; somewhere in her mind, there was a face match. Perhaps his father was a movie star? His hair was messy and long; skater boy hot indeed. His jaw, sharp as ever. Wide nose, but not bad. His face sure matched his voice. 

Heathers tsks approvingly. “I get what I want though. Don’t hold back.” She winks at him. He frowns harder. 

“I’d like to talk to you about someone.”

Heather licks her lip. “Enlighten me.” Her voice having now a delicate flare to it. 

The boy glares at her. “Veronica Sawyer.” He says in a harsh tone. 

Oh. Her. She was a nuisance, to say the least. Heather sighs heavily and rolls her eyes. “Do we have to? Her funeral was last month. It’s kinda overrated.” She says mindlessly. His face tightens. 

“You were the last to see her alive.” He accuses her. Heather’s eyes roll again; God, why he about Veronica? Heather was a hot bitch and in front of him. Besides, Sawyer was being a pain in the ass, not the mention a huge snitch. 

“Not really The hospital medics took her in. They didn’t let me in.” Her lips purse into a pout. “It was unfortunate. I tried to warn her from stepping into the road. The cars were going oh so fast.”

The boy snarled at her. “Don’t act so innocent. You hated her. You were friends and then you hated her.” 

Heather gasps dramatically. Sure it was suspicious but she had been playing it off so well! “How dare you! Do you even know how traumatic that was? Watching even ex, your best friend die! The therapy has finally stopped my self-blame.” Heather defends. 

“Don’t even try and think that act works on me.” He growls. 

Heather let out a high-pitched sobbed. “Why do you-”

“WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He shouts at her. Heather steps back in shook. That was unexpected. 

“I know you killed her.” a finger shoves into her vision. “I know because she was so scared of going. But she went anyway because goddamnit she just had to see the best in people and hope for the best. She went because she wanted things to be just a bit more okay with you guys. But she was so scared, she knew you were going to do something; I knew you were gonna do something. You pushed her in front of that car. And I know you cackled like a fucking witch while doing it.” The boy’s mouth sprouts word afterword; his fury was increasing more and more in the most obvious way. 

Heather racks her brain. Who was he? Why did he talk to Veronica? That girl only had two other friends after Heather let go of… oh… ohhhhhh.

“So what.” She says with danger. “You as her pretty little boyfriend is now going to cry about it? Get over it, she was no big thing. I’m sure the sex wasn’t that good to miss it. We’re all long past; catch up.” Heather steps forward, her intimidation factor went higher and higher up. “Calm your tits JD. No one else is worried. Learn to read a room.” 

JD’s face explodes into angry. “You dumb bitch. You’ve never cared for a single person in your life, have you? Well, let me tell you this. We were in love. So in love. She was the best person on this shithole we call earth. Veronica saw only the best and fixed anything she could. She never turned away from someone who needed help. She fixed me. She stayed with me. And you took the brightest light away.”

Heather let out a huge laugh. “Wow, dramatic. Definitely her little plaything. Love is overrated. She’s not anything anymore. Get past yourself and find a new slut.” She says with amusement. “Be glad she died painlessly. That was the best gift I could give her. Well, painless after she was dragged across the street, but still.” Her laugh fluffed and sugared; JD didn’t seem to apparatus it. How rude. 

“She hated you. She pitied you. She almost wanted to take you to therapy like me. But in the end, she decided you weren’t even worth the effort.” JD says darkly. Heather’s expression quickly shut down. Had she heard him correctly. 

“Very funny joke.” She attempts her easy-going tone of voice but the slip-up didn’t pass him by. His mouth twists into a grin. 

“Denial. Now you know how it feels. Rejection, you’re getting a lot of frists today. Congratulations princess of the fucking school.” JD’s voice echoes all around her. Coated in a thick layer of sarcasm and condensation, he spits it out at her. “Veronica felt sorry for you. That’s why she joined your little club. Sorry for the little princess who no one really cared about. She thought, maybe I can help her. But you want to know what happened? She met you and realized… what mattered? Certainly not you. Why else did you think she took Duke to the doctors? Duke was meant enough to the world to be fixed and now she’s all brand new. Mcnamara got a personality, kinda. But Veronica thought anyone worth it, was. Too bad that wasn’t you.” His wicked smirk sears her eyes. 

“You’re bullshit,” Heather growls. He laughs;  the sound is demented. 

“Am I? Or am I right?” He continues his speech. “My Veronica wanted to help people. She did. She helped me, she saved me. She saved Martha, Duke, everyone. Just not you. You’re not going anywhere. Everyone knows… don’t you?” 

His words pound into her head. Like in a small tunnel, they echo and get louder. “Shut up.” She snaps weakly. Her ears were about to bleed. Her head began to scream. How long had it been going on? The looks; the pitying looks? The laughs, the condescending laughs that she should have been the one making. She was the queen of the school; she was going to the top of the world. Did everyone think she’d melt to the bottom? “Shut up!” JD’s voice didn’t stop. Their pace; increased. The volume; skyward. 

“Veronica would have been here to tell me to stop; to tell me to go home. She would have said, breath a little and remember me. Her hand would have touched my shoulder and slowly she would walk me home and talk about anything she could do to help. She would have cleared my mind, given me my meds, and sang a song terribly to ground me. Veronica would have been here. But she’s not.  Actually, even if was alive, she’d wouldn’t do anything of that. She’d probably dance around with me with a smile on her face saying, babe you’re doing great..” JD’s voice became mixed with wicked, deranged laughter. Like her own evil cackles, but much, much worse. The insane glint in his eyes was terrifying.

She sucks in a breath; one final one to perceive her dignity, her pride. “Veronica this. Veronica that. For the love of god, she’s DEAD! She doesn’t matter anymore, you fucking jac- oof” Heather fell forward. Had he punched her in the stomach? What a weirdo! Heather went to take in a breath, only to find she couldn’t. What the fuck? The pain was there in her body; it was growing exponentially fast. Her eyes trailed down and oh- oh- oh holy mother of fucking shit!

“DID YOU FUC-” She not longer had the ability to speak; not when there was a knife sticking out of her body. JD’s eyes stare down the crumbling girl. 

His face, wide with a grin. 

His hands, perfectly clean. 

His insanity bared itself to the world. 

“You fucking psychopath.” She growls her last words. The red liquid was leaving her body fast. 

JD remains unfazed. His deaden look, his empathy free eyes. “Sociopathic tendencies, actually. Diagnosed. They’re actually not that dangerous. This? This the anger-management issue at work.” He smiles. “This is what it feels like on the other side of the killing.” He crouches down to meet her face to face. Heather musters the strength to growl. 

“What do you... want me to say? Dear diary? My teenage angst bullsh- bullshit now has a body count?” She snarls back. JD laughs. 

“No.” His voice, dark as ever.  “You’ve never loved a person in your life clearly. And no one has ever loved you, not a surprise there.” He stands up straight, looming like a darkened villain. “Let me tell you something. I love Veronica Sawyer. She was going to be Veronica Dean. I love her. More than anything in this fucking shit-world. I’ll worship her till the end of time. We had the strongest love in the universe. She was a goddess; you shouldn’t have killed her.” 

Heather’s eyes roll for the last time. “Dear god, this whole love shit you’re trying to pull on me is really annoying the last minutes of my death” She voices drily. JD crouches down to her again, lifting her chin with a rough tug. 

“Our love was so strong; it could have killed dinosaurs. I’ll settle for killing you though.” He threw down her face aggressively. The blood letched out to the ground. She scowls for the last time. 

“We could have made a pretty good murder couple.” She comments.  JD laughs and steps away, removing black gloves to shove in his pocket. “Dear God, just kill me now.” Heather expresses haughtily. 

JD laughs darkly. “Right you are my dear. Veronica and I… our love was god; it could have killed worlds. But she’s gone now. I’m left. So yes. My love is god.” Heather’s eyes began to feel heavy; was he slipping away farthing into the distance or was she dying faster? This was it wasn’t it? She grimaces. 

“My love is god. It has killed you. Isn’t that just beautiful?” 

Okay, I know it seems like I made Veronica seem like a Mary Sue and JD as this romantic guy. Let me explain things now that I have finished the story. 

Veronica hated Heather C and after helping JD, she started helping other people but she chose not to help Heather C who clearly has problems

Veronica was actually kinda okay with the murder. There was nowhere to put this and I briefly mentioned it, sorta at least, but if she didn’t like the person she was fine with JD killing them. She wanted to curb JD’s bloodlust, but she had accepted it as part of him and never was fully like THIS IS WRONG. As JD said, she would have laughed with him as he killed Heather C. 

Veronica was also kinda manipulative. I didn’t know where to put this but basically, Veronica started to isolate Heather without her even knowing. She’s not a Mary Sue, I swear it’s just not a long story

Heather C. had a lot of clear mental issues that Veronica literally just ignored and used to her advantage. She has such narcissistic behaviors, Veronica was able to get people to turn on her all while she thought she was the queen

People stopped caring about Heather C. Like they basically just made fun of her and were sarcastic to her. But with all of her mental issues and stuff, it twisted in her mind to make them think they were worshipping her. People shot her dirty looks or laughed at her, but she didn’t notice that. 

Heather D. got help for her bulimia because of Veronica. She thus was given kindness and was not a huge bitch 

Heather M. also became less of a bitch. She wasn’t one before, it was just she followed Heather C. around too much. Veronica helped her. 

Martha had Veronica back and it helped her feel like she had a true friend and ended up saving her from her depression

VERONICA IS STILL NOT AN ANGEL I REALIZE THAT’S HOW IT SOUNDS 

JD is possessive and Veronica has learned to live with it. It’s kinda unhealthy but not dangerous to her so that’s why she puts up with it. It’s directed towards other people

JD praises Veronica. She is the only thing in his life. She’s his mildly unhealthy but weirdly good fixation 

JD is adamant he and Veronica will end up together. There is nothing else. It will happen in his mind. His head is still a little twisted, though better than before. He’s not trying to kill for baby reasons now. He’d kill for Veronica and that’s basically it

Veronica’s parents do not like JD but deal with him for her 

Heather C. invited Veronica to a girl’s trip to bond a bit and make-up, then she pushed her into a street. Veronica didn’t want to go but she was too trusting and nice, like how she was in the movie and musical n trusting JD

JD goes on to flee the town and Heather C. Is discovered to be dead at the end of the school day

Now, I’m not totally sure what this is. It was an idea in my head and I needed it out. It’s not very good, It’s not the level of gore and blood I think my honestly messed-up mind needs to get out, but it can suffice Basically, I have my own mental problems, though I don’t know what they are currently, but they do give me a lot of problems. Writing is my healthy way of expressing them rather than screaming at my friends. That was my old way… not good. Anyways, hope you guys liked this story. 

[flightfoot]

Justice for Alya (And Adrien. And The Rest Of The Class): enigmaticEditor's "Outfoxed"

AO3

(Spoilers for Chapter 1 of “Outfoxed”)

“Outfoxed” by enigmaticEditor (@captorations) stands out among “Lila Exposed” fics as being one of the few of that genre that douses Alya and Adrien in sugar while refraining from salting the class or anyone besides Lila and Gabriel.

It starts when the glamour around Lila breaks, when Lila makes a claim - or at least IMPLIES a claim - that Alya knows for a fact cannot be true. Lila ‘accidentally’ exposing a necklace that looks an awful lot like the Fox Miraculous and implying that SHE’S Rena Rouge.

And everything comes tumbling down. All the lies, all the deceptions, they all shatter like glass.

This isn’t an unusual way for Alya to discover Lila was lying. It’s everything that happens afterwards that make this fic stand out.

Immediately her mind starts racing, trying to figure out what magic was at work and how to break it, thinking of who she needs to recruit… and she remembers Marinette.

Alya both feels a little guilty because she didn’t believe Marinette and Marinette HAD tried to tell her the truth - again, not unusual - but she’s also a bit angry and upset at her which is particularly interesting.

Marinette had tried to tell Alya the truth about Lila, that was true - but she had better means at her disposal to force Alya to see that Lila was lying, to possibly break past her glamour. She’s well-connected and could’ve gotten, say, Jagged Stone himself to refute Lila’s lies. She had the power to bring all that crashing down and yet allowed the rest of the class to continue being duped by Lila.

Normally this accusation is leveled at Adrien in Chameleon saltfics - and that comes up in Outfoxed as well, but I’ll get to that later - not at Marinette, though it holds true for her as well (and moreso than Alya even knows, considering she’s Ladybug and one of Lila’s favorite lies is how close she is to Ladybug). It’s always been something that bugged me with saltfics - and heck, even with canon - so I loved seeing it addressed here.

Her reasoning made sense, especially considering the stress Marinette’s been under this whole time. She was terrified that Lila would become akumatized again and hurt people, hurt her, hurt Chat, hurt Adrien, hurt random civilians. 

Hurting Adrien was ESPECIALLY prevalent in her mind since Volpina had already fooled her into thinking she was gonna let Adrien fall before. And just… while Marinette agreed with Alya afterwards that it would’ve been better to try to do something about Lila, she was just too scared before, with having experienced Volpina going after someone she loved.

I really appreciate when authors have the characters maybe not make the absolute best, most ideal choice in a circumstance, not acting in the most ideal way when viewed as an impassive outsider, but for those characters to act and react in ways that make sense when taking into account their mindset and emotions at the time. Because that’s how people actually operate. 

And Alya just… she UNDERSTANDS! I especially like even before she finds out why Marinette hasn’t tried hard to expose Lila, when she still doesn’t know, and comes across Marinette curled into a ball crying. 

She knows what to do. Has done it before. Knows how to read Marinette and just focuses on calming her down first, prioritizes getting her to a better state before broaching the subject of Lila. With all the salt about Alya supposedly not being a good friend, it was nice to see displayed just why she’s an AWESOME friend to Marinette.

But what really gets to me is the sort-of pep talk Alya gave Marinette after finding out she was reluctant to try harder to expose her, but before she found out more details on WHY. Because while the speech she gave was good Marinette sugar, for the reader, it’s great Alya sugar as well.

The reason why it stung that Marinette was willing to just let Lila continue lying? Why it hurt Alya to see Marinette seemingly just… give up like that? Came down to the philosophy Alya first tried to impart to Marinette when she first met her, “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good people to do nothing”, something which it seems like Marinette can’t make herself believe anymore. But Alya’s there to boost her up, to remind her of how far she’s come and what she’s capable of.

Alya’s hand moved to find Marinette’s. Once she did, she gave it a squeeze and didn’t let go. “You mean so much to me, girl, you know that? I was new here, that first day. I had no one, and not only were you willing to befriend the weirdo who wouldn’t shut up about superheroes, you believed in what I said. You let me inspire you, and you inspire me too. You always have. I know you’re scared of akumas. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you running to hide whenever one shows up, even if it’s nowhere near us. But you’ve been working past it, even taking charge sometimes in your own way! Darkblade, Syren, Captain Hardrock. I remember those too. I liked to think I was part of the reason for that. A part of you, as much as you’re a part of me.” (Chapter 1)

This was just… this was so good! Alya gives some of her fears and insecurities, with being the new girl and considering herself to be a weirdo, while also boosting herself up by being proud of her effect on Marinette. It gives off a sort of “teacher is proud of their student” vibe, since Alya helped start Marinette on the path to standing up for herself.

She also notes Marinette’s own insecurities here with her apparently being afraid of akumas, while using her growth past that to boost her up, much like she boosted herself earlier. Her glowing review of both herself and Marinette weaving together to make both more meaningful and influential than they would be in isolation.

On a personal note, I’ve always thought Alya’s role in Origins with her helping to defend Marinette, encourage her, and Marinette’s deep appreciation and respect for Alya because of that has been massively overlooked, with very few fics acknowledging how meaningful that was to Marinette, to the point that she pushed Tikki to go to Alya instead (though admittedly a lot of that was her own insecurities talking). Heck, both times she transformed in Origins were because Alya was in danger, and Alya’s encouragement helped persuade her to actually jump into the fight with Stoneheart! 

Alya continues encouraging Marinette by giving her own mindset as part of an inspiration.

Tears were beginning to streak down her best friend’s face again. Alya plowed ahead. “I can’t do much to help Ladybug-” God, she wanted so badly to tell Marinette about Rena Rouge, but she couldn’t endanger her. Not now, not ever. “-but I can’t do nothing. The Ladyblog lets me show people, more directly than any news channel ever will, that Ladybug and Chat Noir and everyone else are fighting for us. That they’re real people, brave and determined and wonderful, but in need of our support and understanding, too. Of course akuma-chasing is scary, I’ve probably died more times than anyone else in Paris, but I. Can’t. Do. Nothing.” (Chapter 1)

She’s leading by example, trying to show Marinette how and why she can and should stand up for what’s right. Acknowledging how scared she can be, that there’s a limit to what she can do, but still doing what she can to help. 

If Alya wasn’t scared at all and WAS able to do everything she wanted to do to help Ladybug the speech wouldn’t have been as effective. By showing how she tries anyway even though it’s difficult because the cause is so important to her, she shows Marinette how and why she should do the same. 

After Marinette agrees with Alya about trying to stop Lila they start going over what they know in order to come up with a plan to stop her, Marinette’s newfound determination shining through. She can have some major insecurities, as would be expected of anyone, especially a kid, but what makes her interesting and inspiring is how she works past it, compensates, or how other people help her if she can’t do something herself. 

And then Marinette tells Alya that she wasn’t the only one who knew - Adrien did too.

And that sets Alya storming off to find Adrien before Marinette can explain further.

Remember that Adrien salt I mentioned earlier? This is where it comes into play.

It starts with her thoughts on the situation before even meeting up with Adrien:

How dare Agreste leave his “friend” out to dry like that? It didn’t even make sense. She could understand Adrien wanting to avoid conflict. Nino had shared bits and pieces of Adrien’s home life, and it didn’t seem like the boy had ever had much success standing up for himself. Appeasement must be all he knew how to do. But this? This was something else entirely. He could have at least been there for Marinette. (Chapter 1)

The anger over Adrien supposedly leaving Marinette high and dry while Lila continued lying (and even targeting) Marinette is common in Chameleon-related Adrien salt. But even at this stage, even while angry at Adrien, she still acknowledges his perspective and why he might not do so.

Alya’s FURIOUS right now and it shows, not only in her actions (demanding Adrien follow her and slamming him against a wall) but even in the word choices of her thoughts, with her thinking he has “a backbone made of rubber” and commenting on his “stupid designer shirt”. That anger’s just generally clouding her thoughts right then, which is realistic even if it’s not entirely fair to Adrien; emotions are like that, they’re NOT always fair.

Luckily, Adrien DOES have an explanation.

“You knew what Lila was doing. This whole goddamn time. And you did nothing. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Lila wasn’t hurting anyone-”

“She was hurting Marinette,” snarled Alya. Some rational part of her was surprised she hadn’t been akumatized. Right now, she wasn’t sure who she’d go for first as a supervillain; the liar herself, or her pet enabler.

“-at first! At first, Alya! You didn’t let me finish! I know, okay? Why do you think Lila got Marinette expelled, and then immediately turned around and got her back in? I made her!” (Chapter 1)

I really like this. Adrien has a point - Lila WASN’T hurting anyone, not as far as he knew (and as far as Alya knows for that matter). There was speculation among the fanbase that Lila might promise things she couldn’t deliver on, depriving the class of legit opportunities in favor of made-up ones, but that doesn’t appear to have actually happened. It could be argued that her using her brainwashing magic is inherently harmful, but it’s not like anyone knew that’s what it was; he and Marinette just knew she was lying, and while that’s generally not something to approve of, it’s not the end of the world either. He and Marinette have done it quite a bit themselves, albeit for better reasons than Lila was (usually).

Something I like even better though? This takes into account Adrien’s actions AFTER Chameleon, him finding out that Lila was actively dangerous and malicious and protecting Marinette as best he knew how.

Meekly, Adrien explained the deal he’d made. Implicitly, before that horrible day, and explicitly, after it. He’d been using himself as a distraction almost since the beginning. Drawing fire for Marinette, sacrificing himself, like Chat Noir did so often for Ladybug. And he hadn’t said anything, not wanting anyone to worry about him.

Marinette’s words ran through Alya’s mind, and she checked them against her memories. While she hadn’t paid nearly as much attention to either Lila or Adrien… that bitch really had been all over him for months now. Alya knew Adrien didn’t like being touched unless he completely trusted the other person. The first time Nino had clapped him on the back unexpectedly, he’d nearly fled the room. Chloé was one thing; as despicable as she could be, she had been Adrien’s only friend for a long time. But Lila? Adrien clearly disliked Lila, but had let her do that to him, just to keep her from bothering his friend, and now had signed up to deal with an even worse version of it at his goddamn job to protect Marinette.

Alya was getting a headache. If in the next hour Nino did something to give her this kind of emotional whiplash, she’d shatter on the spot. Her heart was already in pieces, for Adrien as well as Marinette now. These idiots. (Chapter 1)

This whole thing is a really good response to all the “Adrien left Marinette to rot and even discouraged her from defending herself!” salt. Because no. He didn’t. Once he saw that Marinette was in danger he did everything in his power, everything he knew how to do to protect her, even though it meant enduring Lila’s harassment, having to deal with her when he wanted nothing to do with her. Most Chameleon-inspired Adrien salt conveniently ignores that. 

And Alya recognizes and appreciates it, can see what he’s been going through, and just wants to hug and protect her friends who’ve been through so much. 

There’s one last bit of this encounter I want to emphasize, something that Alya needs to knock into Adrien’s skull, something that he needed to hear and understand.

Then she pulled away and slapped him in the face. Not hard, but enough to get her point across. “You were still wrong, Adrien. Lila was harming someone right from the beginning. She was harming you. And you matter too.” (Chapter 1)

This is an important point. She WAS harming him from the beginning. Heck, her introduction, the very first glimpse of her we ever got, was her stroking her finger down Adrien’s chest while he looked VERY freaked out, then her dragging him away and lying to him, and she didn’t exactly improve in subsequent appearances.

She may have deliberately tried to hurt Marinette (as both Marinette and Ladybug, though she didn’t know that) the most, but she’s harmed Adrien a lot too, even though that was not her end goal - she was still fine with that outcome.

But Alya’s on the case. She’ll protect her friends.

I don’t want to go TOO in-depth on the rest of the story - I figure this’ll be more of a rec and review, so I don’t want to spoiler it a lot - but I will say this.

The romance here may not be the main point, but it helps to develop the characters a bit, and the Alyanette in particular serves to show off what an awesome person Alya is by letting Marinette show her faith in her, show why she loves, cares, and respects Alya so much, all while letting Alya demonstrate why that faith is well-placed and just letting Alya have a good time and have nice things.

And the Lila exposure? Puts Alya front and center, letting her do most of it (most of what we the reader see anyway), and letting her have fun along the way.

I’ve seen many Lila exposure fics. But none that shine the spotlight on Alya quite as well as this one does.

[aperrywilliams]

A Normal Conversation Ch04 (Spencer Reid x Maxine Brenner)

Previous Chapter / Ch04 / Next Chapter

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

Chapter 4: Who is she?

Summary: How Spencer ask Max to go out with him?

Word Count: 1655

Rating: Soft. There is no date for now...

A/N: Let's see where this takes us...

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

Is Wednesday and Spencer was with his BAU colleagues listening meticulously to Penelope as she was reading their new case. Emily started speaking after Garcia finished her introduction.

“It is impossible to know whether or not this is an escalation of the unsub, but we have to be prepared. Get ready, wheels up in 20!” said Prentiss.

They all agreed and got up to pick their stuff. Spencer went to grab his bag and put on it the things they considered necessary to carry. He did not realize that J.J. was approaching him slowly. When she got nearby Spencer she began to speak.

“I was hoping that you... ‘spontaneously’ tell me about your ‘conversation’ on last Saturday. But since you haven't, I am forced to ask...” Spencer turned when he heard her speak and smiled hoping that J.J. ends her reprimand before answering.

“I didn't think it was something important to make you so curious…” Spencer said.

“Are you kidding me? You should have seen your face when you got to the hospital that afternoon. Seriously, I told you that day, I wasn't seen that smile long ago”.

“It was a very interesting afternoon, I admit it...” Spencer said.

“Well, tell me more... what's her name? What does she do?” said J.J. with more curiously, trying to encourage Spencer to tell her details about that day.

“Well, her name is Max ... Maxine...” Just when Spencer was about to begin to develop the story, they was interrupted by Luke who approached both of them.

“We're leaving now…” Luke said. J.J. She looked at Spencer and then she speak to him quietly.

“I want ALL the details... is it clear? We will come back to this on the jet” She said in a warning tone. Spencer smiled and nodded. She went to get her things and they went to the jet to start their flight. When they set up in their sits, and before the departure, Spencer took his phone and started writing a message. J.J. saw him and smiled shaking her head, but she wouldn't start an interrogation on him. At least not yet.

During the flight the team did the usual review of the case, in order to distribute tasks once they reached their destination. Spencer would have to go to the latest crime scene with Rossi, while the rest were assigned to other tasks. Once on land, Spencer was very focused on the details of the crime scene, while exchanging his thoughts with Rossi.

“Clearly this is not a scene of opportunity”  Spencer said  “look at the environment Dave, it shows that there was damage control. The unsub was meticulous so as not to leave a mess”.

“It is possible, but do you know what bothers me? That although the environment seems controlled, the victim was practically massacred” Rossi said.

“Lots of anger, but a high degree of control… it's a strange combination” Spencer said. “He probably have planned it for a long time...”

“Then this are not crimes of opportunity. The unsub knows his victims very well, plans and then hoped they fall into his trap. We will have to review victimology again. These victims are directly connected to the unsub” Rossi said. Spencer nodded.

When they returned to the local police station to report their findings to the rest of the team, Spencer felt his cell phone vibrate. He had a message from Max: “I didn't saw your message before. Sorry. Have a nice trip. Let me know when you come back to know you're okay and maybe we can have our first date. Max”. Spencer puzzled for a few seconds. Was she inviting him on a date? Or maybe Max was upset because he hadn't invited her on a date before? A little confused, he kept his cell phone on his pocket and went to the conference room where the rest of his colleagues were.

Almost two days it took for the team to find the killer's location. Fortunately, did not increase the number of victims thanks to the fact that they revealed the profile in time and that allowed local authorities to prevent the population. With the case solved, the team prepared their things to return to D.C.

Once installed on the jet on the way home, J.J. sat in front on Spencer who was looking at his phone with obvious concern.

 “Message from Max?” Asked J.J.

“How do you know that ...?” Spencer asked confused.

“I only know it…” J.J. said laughing “Will you tell me the story now?”

“Yes… and I think I need some advice too...” He said pointing to his phone.

“Good..” said J.J. adjusting in the seat. “I am all ears”

Spencer speak about how it was that Saturday afternoon. He told her the recommendation of his doctor to have "a normal conversation" He did not give details on why he had started the therapy sessions again, but J.J. knew that there were things that complicated Spencer and how he trust in medical judgment, so she didn’t think necessary to dig into this topic. She was more interested in know about Max. Spencer ended his story saying "and she sent me this message almost two days ago" giving the cell phone to J.J.

“And haven't you answered it yet ?!” said J.J. after reading the message.

“No…” said Spencer rubbing his head.

“But Spence!, sure you have a lot to learn...” said J.J. giving a sigh. Spencer looked at her with concern.

“I just don't know... what will Max think is a ‘date’ ...?” J.J. couldn't help but laugh.

“Don't make it difficult, Spence, just invite her out. Start with something informal, like a coffee for example. It doesn't hurt anyone to go out for coffee” said J.J. as she returned the phone to him.

“Are you sure I shouldn't wait a few more days...?”

“You wait for her to bring you coffee to your home?” said J.J. joking “what your intuition tells you Spence?, don't just listen to your neurons, genius” J.J. laugh and Spencer nodded.

“I think you're right J.J.” Spencer said meditating on what J.J. had told him.

“I can guarantee you that in this situation I am right. Go ahead Spence. Do not let her go away because you are not sure about what will happen. You deserve to try and see what happens next for your self”. Saying this, J.J. got up and went to the other end of the jet.

Just entering his apartment, Spencer hung up his bag, but not before grabbing his cell phone. He sat on the couch with the device in one hand. He thought during all flight what he should write to Max. He started typed a message, which he erased over and over. "What's the matter with you, Reid?" He reproached himself. “It will only be a coffee. It’s not a big deal". He took a deep breath and dialed Max's number.

“Hi!” Max said answering the phone.

“Hey, hi...” Spencer said on the other side of the line. He was silent for a few seconds “how are you?”

“Great... and you?” Max replied.

“Good...” Spencer pointed out. There was a new silence. Max asked.

“Still traveling?” She could almost perceive that Spencer was nervous about something.

“No. I just came to my apartment...” Spencer clarified.

“That’s good... ehm, is everything ok?” Max asked  “It seems that something happened to you...” she pointed out.

“No. Everything is perfect!” Reid tried to hide his nerves a bit. “Well, I received your message the other day... ” said Spencer.

“Ahh, I thought you hadn't seen it. But it’s ok, sure you were busy...”

“I saw it, yes ... ahm, sorry for not answered it before…” Spencer said.

“It's okay. Don't worry” Max said calmly. Spencer took a deep breath before speaking again.

“Well, then I came back... and thinking about what you wrote me... maybe you would like... well, you know... we could ... go out ... both of us. I mean… what I mean is I wish we could...” After several deviations, Spencer spat out.  “Would you like to go out for coffee with me tomorrow?”

“Wow... I think it is the first time that someone invites me a coffee with such ceremonial style” Max joked. That made Spencer laugh and relax a little.

“Sorry if I seem excessively tangled... it's just that I didn't know how to say it without you thinking...”

“It's just a coffee Spencer ... right?” Max asked.

“Yeah! Of course. It's just a coffee” Spencer said quickly.

“Perfect. I would love to. Tomorrow my classes end at 3:00 p.m. Can you?”

“Of course. I can pick you up in school at that hour. If you want…”.

“Seems ok for me. I'll send you a message later with the address”.

“All right! Yes. Excellent” Reid said, much more relieved.

“Okay. Until tomorrow then” Max said.

“Until tomorrow... bye” Spencer said. Then he hang up the phone.

Spencer fell onto the couch exhausted. He laughed at himself as he reviewed the conversation he had with Max the past minutes. "She will end up thinking that I am a kind of freak moron… well, I already am... maybe she’ll think something worse of me" he reproached himself. Then he went to the bathroom to get ready and go to bed.

-----

[scaredofthebasement-blog]

When Love Walks In - Chpt 6

Chapter Six - Dr Quinn Visits to Prep Auston For Breathing Therapy

1801 Words

The following morning, Dr Quinn shows up at the Nurse’s Station in the Intensive Care Unit to check on Auston. She learns from Nurse Kelly that his night was uneventful, having slept well with the help of a sleeping aid, administered intravenously.

Dr Quinn coordinates a visit with the head-injury specialist, to determine if Auston has endured any head trauma.  The testing will be done later in the week.  

When Dr Quinn enters Auston’s room, she is pleased to see that he’s awake and appears to have more colour and life in him than the previous day.  His mother and father were helping Auston get washed up, changed into comfortable ‘real clothes’ and caught up on things they wanted him to know.

“Good Morning, Auston, Ema and Brian”, Dr Quinn greets everyone with a smile.

Auston, lays in his bed, watching his doctor intently as she approaches him.  He notices that, when she enters the room, the energy changes. He can’t help but liken it to what it feels like for him when he goes on early morning runs back in Arizona; the sun rising from behind the mountains and fever climbing on his cheeks.  He can’t put his finger on it, but there is something about Dr Quinn’s presence that captivates him in a way that he has never experienced before.  

Ema and Brian greet Dr Quinn enthusiastically, while Auston, too distracted by his thoughts, only manages a small awkward smile.  

Shit!  Now she’s gonna think I’m an ungrateful ass!  She saved my life for god’s sake!  He berates himself.

Dr Quinn doesn’t think anything of Auston’s feeble greeting.  In her mind, he is a weak, recovering patient who's summoning every bit of bravery and energy to climb out of a version of hell that he has awoken to have found himself.

Dr Quinn smiles and addresses Auston directly, “Good Morning Auston! I understand from Kelly, that you had a good sleep last night and that all things considered, you are doing quite well.  I can see some colour in your cheeks and notice that your vitals are good.  Just a reminder though, Auston, please do not attempt to use your voice until I instruct you to do so.  Your vocal cords still need time to heal, and by that, I mean re-join, which will allow you to be able to speak again.  I’m happy to hear that you slept well because today, you will be exercising your lungs and that will require a good deal of energy.   Specifically, today, we will be doing some breathing therapy to wean you off the ventilator.  It will likely take about three days of therapy before you will be able to rely solely on the oxygen mask.  How do you feel about that Auston?”

Unrecognisable thoughts and emotions unexpectedly begin surging through Auston’s head, and none of them have anything to do with what she is telling him. In fact, he can barely focus on what Dr Quinn is saying.  His eyes and brain automatically try desperately to figure out what is so mesmerising about this woman.  

What Auston is trying to put his finger on, is something that captivates and dumbfounds most people who meet Dr Quinn.   It is something that flows organically from her and becomes impossible to distinguish from who she is as a person. But if you could look inside Dr Quinn’s mind, you’d see that her secret is gratitude.

When Dr Quinn was a teen, and her boyfriend Josh died in that freak cemetery fence climbing accident, she fell into a deep depression from an assortment of feelings; powerlessness, anger, guilt and grief.  Her psychologist suggested at the time, among many things, that she adopt what he called ‘The Feel Good Formula.’  Specifically, he told her to find something healthy that she could feel passionate about and find a way to do it every day.  Then every morning she was to remind herself how lucky she was to be able to do that thing. Back then, she needed only to look to the tragic loss of Josh to find her passion.  She wanted to find a way to save others the same tragic outcome that Josh had when his neck and throat were torn apart.  Since finding her passion, she has always made it her practice to remind herself, on her commute to classes or work, how fortunate she is to be able to do what she does; have some control in her life by impacting people who suffer like Josh did; by taking steps to save and better their quality of life.  

Still awaiting Auston’s response, Dr Quinn looks down at her clipboard to check on something.  

Instinctively, Auston takes the opportunity to scan Dr Quinn’s body, from head to toe; as if the answer might lay there.

What are you doing, Man?!  That’s dangerous!  Don’t do that!  He scolds himself.  But it is too late, and his heart rate monitor begins beeping. 

Oh, Holy Hell!  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!  Auston screams inside his head as he watches in horror as a surprised and confused Dr Quinn surveys his face and walks over to the loud machine to check it and turn it off.

After turning the alarm off, everyone looks to Dr Quinn for an answer as to why that happened.  His parents are very confused and concerned since they have never heard that thing go off before.  

Auston is pissed at himself and fears she’s found him out.  In his mind, he warns Dr Quinn; I will die right here and now if you guess that thing went off because of you!

Dr Quinn looks at Auston with concern and says with compassion and an apologetic tone, “It appears that what I said upset you Auston and for that, I’m very sorry.  Please, let me know what your fears are about being weaned off the ventilator.  I will do whatever I can to alleviate them.”

Oh, thank the Lord!  He cheers internally, relieved that her guess is wrong.   But, at the same time, he feels bad that she thinks that she caused him distress when the exact opposite is true.

Auston finds Dr Quinn’s compassion comforting.   Whenever she talks to him, she speaks as if she truly cares about his wellbeing; like a family member.  And, from what his parents have told him, Dr Quinn has been looking out for his whole family, from the minute she met them.

Maybe I’m her only patient?  He wonders to himself.  But at the same time, he dismisses the thought because that’s just stupid.   

Is she like this with everyone or just me? He asks himself but then figures, of course, she is like that with everyone, she’s in the health profession, you idiot!

Auston considers that maybe she is somehow affected by him being a wealthy and famous athlete.   But his gut check makes that idea slide.  In the nine years that he has been playing in the National Hockey League, he has met loads of ‘influenced’ people and gained a sixth sense in detecting them.  Dr Quinn is definitely not one of them; he is sure of it.  

She appears above all that superficial crap, he thinks.  Besides, he’s sure there’s no way she wants for notoriety or money given that she has an elite career in medicine.  His parents filled him in on Dr Quinn’s background earlier that morning.  She is beyond impressive.  So, in the end, Auston concludes that she is probably just really sweet and caring to everyone.  He is surprised to find that realisation makes him somewhat jealous.

Dr Quinn is still waiting for Auston to tell her what he is upset about, so she re-focuses his attention to the communication board by asking Brian if he can hand it to him.  She waits for Auston to write his answer.

Oh God, what should I tell her caused me to be upset? Quick!  I need to think of something quick!  Auston’s mind races, and then it comes to him, and he writes, “Nervous.”  

Dr Quinn looks at him with empathy in her eyes and says, “Oh, I see Auston. Yes, that’s entirely understandable, but rest assured you will be in very expert hands with the Respirologist, Dr Ellen Wright.”  

Dr Wright?!  Auston’s voice in his head yells.  No!  I thought you would be doing it!  He thinks.

For some strange reason, he feels like someone just kicked him in the stomach. 

Desperate, he points over and over to the word “Nervous” on his whiteboard, in emphasis.

Ema speaks up, “Dr Quinn, I think Auston would feel more comfortable, for the first while anyway, if you could stay in the room while the Respirologist does her thing.”

Mom saves the day!  I love you, Mom!  He thinks to himself.

“If that is what you would like Auston, I can arrange to do that?”  Dr Quinn says as she looks to Auston for his response.

Auston gives a slight nod of his head, trying to appear nonchalant.

Smiling at Auston, Dr Quinn assures him, "Well, it's a plan then.  I’ll be here."

Yes!  Auston cheers to himself, careful not to get too excited and make the machine go off again.

Dr Quinn checks with Ema and Brian to make sure they got some sleep last night, and it turns out they had, which she is happy to hear.  She reminds them how important it is that they take some time for themselves away from the hospital now that Auston is stable.  She also asks where the girls are.  Ema informs her that Alex and Bre are at Auston's Condo getting some rest.  Dr Quinn tells them she is very happy to hear that.

She’s so kind to my parents and sisters.  It’s no wonder they seem to adore her, Auston thinks as his mind winds down.

"I understand that Dr Wright will be coming to see Auston around 10 am so I will be back for that time. Do you have any questions or concerns before I continue my rounds?"  Dr Quinn asks, looking from person to person.

While Auston wishes he could ask her questions to keep her in the room longer, he can’t think of anything quick enough.  Plus he isn’t going to be selfish and keep her from her work.

There are no questions, so Dr Quinn leaves to finish her morning rounds.  For Auston, it’s like she takes the sun with her when she leaves.  

Auston is exhausted.  He closes his eyes for a moment and ends up falling asleep.  His parents take the opportunity to leave the room, get some fresh air, grab a coffee and a bite to eat before they will return for Auston’s breathing therapy session.

[tanadrin]

hey *whispers* hey. hey. i saw your post in the wow tag. i would read THE SHIT out of your interpretation of wow lore. i have homework right now but i think i might just read through your blog a bit. the characters have always been such a high point for me (listen. i know knaak did a lot of shit. but you can pry Krasus from my cold dead hands he was EVERYTHING to middle school me) and i feel so conflicted over what theyve done to the characters - sylvanas, anduin, everyone. would love ur take

You might be a little disappointed, most of my blog isn’t about WoW (it postdates my WotLK raiding/RP guild phase, and I’ve only just recently got back into it with Classic). Lots of opinions on WoW characters below the cut.

I actually don’t hate Krasus as a character. He’s fine, he’s not a Designated Idiot Ball Carrier like some of the others are. In re: the dragons generally, I don’t like the simplistic thing WoW lore does a lot where one faction leader going bonkers turns the whole faction into baddies for no apparent reason, because all political entities are monoliths except when they’re not. I’m also not a huge fan of how crowded the, erm, metahuman bureaucracy on Azeroth has become in the lore–like, the Keepers and the Dragon Aspects serve similar roles, and the lore could have done fine with one or the other, and the dragons were here first (and Ysera and Alexstrasza are BAMFs), and so should get to stay.

Sylvanas is bae, obviously, and Sylvanas as Warchief was a terrific move plotwise. I think it’s a pity they had to kill Vol’jin to do it (because I am also very here for Warchief Vol’jin), but she is obviously the more interesting choice. Speaking of Warchiefs:

Thrall doesn’t have the Green Jesus Marty Stu quite as bad as some people think, but he does kinda have it, and I don’t see them grappling quite with the fact that he done fucked up. Like, not only did he install a Warchief who should have had all smart members of the Horde tugging at their collars nervously when he started his rule, Garrosh turned into a Sha-summoning Old God-corrupted, casual-atrocity-perpetrating maniac, not to mention all the bullshit on Old Draenor I do my best to forget about lest my blood pressure spike. We don’t really get a satisfying mea culpa from Thrall for that, and then his response is to fuck off to fiddle around with the Earthen Ring for a bit, before retiring to a farm in Nagrand. Keep in mind, one of the whole reasons the Horde came together in its current shape in the first place is because of the charismatic, hopeful figure of Thrall. It ran the very real risk of splintering under Garrosh for good (ESPECIALLY after the murder of Cairne, RIP Cairne Bloodhoof, you were too good for this world), and even the most unifying successor (which I think Vol’jin was) didn’t have Thrall’s inclusive, unifying vision. Sylvanas doesn’t, either, and even more, is sort of low-key hated by everybody else, so while I don’t think she’s a maniac like Garrosh who would recklessly divide the Horde, she’s also not, I am forced to admit, necessarily the ideal Warchief from a political standpoint.

Even if he didn’t return to the post of Warchief, Thrall had a moral obligation after the Garrosh debacle to try to help hold the Horde together and heal the divisions his negligence caused. At least to throw his support behind Garrosh’s successors, and not to pretend that Deathwing’s death meant everything was OK forever, job done. And if he wasn’t going to do that (and he has excellent motivations for not wanting to do that!), I think the consequences of that have to be explored. I think some people would blame him, and be justified in doing so. I think somebody like Varok Saurfang, who has had decades of experience with the damage bad leaders could do, would rightly be a little pissed, even as he sought Thrall out for help, that Thrall had let the Horde he built languish under subpar leadership. Thrall has been selfish–and that’s great, because he desperately needed some character flaws more significant than “cares too much” and “believes in people a lot.”

Anduin: better than Varian, still a little bland? Varian was a Professional Idiot Ball Handler, who seemed to do stuff not out of a coherent conception of his character, but just because the plot required a Generic Human King to do it. Plus there was all that stuff with the cloning and the kidnapping that never really made any sense. I like Anduin’s optimism; I like that he feels like a thoughtful, reasonable guy, who’s doing his best in often-impossible circumstances. I feel like they could show him being a little more frustrated sometimes, though, and a little pissed at people like Jaina who obstinately refuse to do the strategically correct thing even if it means setting aside their resentments for a bit. Disclaimer: I play almost exclusively Horde toons, they may address this better in the Alliance quests in WoW.

But oh man, besides the Draenei, I hate most what they did to Jaina. Jaina was that rare jewel, an optimist in a world whose setting demands perpetual chaos. Yes, yes, Theramore and the mana bomb, I’m not suggesting she should be made of stone, but it breaks her character to have her suddenly go from someone trying to forge a lasting peace between the Horde and Alliance in WC3–to the point where she would see her own father dead–to someone who now blames the whole Horde as one no exceptions for what happened at Theramore. Should she struggle with grief and pain and anger? Absolutely. But she should deal with them in more complex ways than “now I am become the mirror image of Daelin.” Nevermind that even if she did that she should at least regret not listening to him back in WC3. (Do they address that in BFA with the introduction of Kul Tiras? Idk, I haven’t played BFA at all yet.) It seems like Jaina’s role now is to be the Person Who Hates The Horde, and honestly, that’s a tired trope. It’s just not interesting, it has no nuance, it has no interesting outcomes. You could maybe get away with it with the generation of leaders from the Second War like Daelin and Genn who knew the Orcs only as the fel-corrupted servants of the Burning Legion, but it’s obvious to anyone with two brain cells to rub together than the current Horde is a very different animal politically and strategically, so even if you hate the Orcs with a burning passion, that is not going to transfer to the Tauren, nevermind onetime allies like the Blood Elves.

Gul’dan: oh my god the time travel plot was so stupid. Did the whole universe get duplicated in the alternate timeline? Since travel between the universes is cheap and easy that means there’s a whole nother Burning Legion with a whole nother Sargeras out there that’s still a huge fricking threat! Not to mention a whole nother Azeroth! Did just Draenor get duplicated? That doesn’t seem to match up with the fact a lot of the Burning Legion characters in WoD seem to be parallel universe versions of Burning Legion villains we already know, but it’s not directly confirmed or disconfirmed. Is it some sort of weird Bronze Dragonflight timey-wimey thing that doesn’t have its own independent reality? Ok, fine, but obviously this alternate Draenor has enough of an independent existence for us to visit it again and see what it’s like decades later, not to mention bring some of the people there back. Gul’dan was a fine, if one-dimensional villain but bringing him back from the dead was dumb, dumb, dumb, in a setting where death often feels meaningless and seems to be reversible at random. And the general incoherence of magic in the setting combined with the perennial incoherence of time travel plots (Gollum voice: *we hates them!*) really just reduced WoD to a quivering mess of plot holes, like febrile fan speculation made manifest.

Tirion Fordring: good example of a purely heroic character done well, which WoW has few of. I think because he actually has challenges to overcome, and he doesn’t feel like an idiot.

Bolvar Fordragon: Literally did not know or care who this guy was until the Wrathgate cinematic, but what they did after that with his character was terrific, 10/10.

Malfurion, Tyrande, Illidan: These characters all bore me to tears. My WotLK main was a druid, and I’m a big fan of the druid lore, so I wanna like Malfurion, I really do, but he’s just so dull. Partly because it doesn’t feel like he has any real limitations on his power, just whatever the plot demands he be able to do or not do at any given moment, partly because he just feels like a stiff-necked scold. Tyrande is even more one-dimensional. Illidan is pure 3edgy5me, and the demon hunters in general feel like they get to be too cool to actually traffic in any of the pathos of what should be their emotional equivalents like the Death Knights and the Forsaken. It’s like, “oh man, my life is so tormented, I have these bitchin’ horns and tattoos, and I’m, like, totally immortal, here, hold my rad sword thingies for a second.” At least with the Death Knights you get the feeling that being a Death Knight is a genuinely miserable experience, so there’s some genuine conflict at the heart of the class: sure, you play as a hero, but not the kind of hero you’d necessarily want to be. Demon hunters are just pissed they don’t get to sit at the cool kids’ lunch table, and Illidan genuinely acts like a giant asshole and then gets self-righteous and whiny when his friends and family are like “Dude! Stop being such an asshole!” There’s room for a prickly character, who’s a dick, but who’s our dick, and maybe that’s what they were going for, but Illidan is just the worst.

Azshara, Lady Vashj: The Naga were a giant fucking mistake. A symptom of the inability to let backstory stay backstory, to have to resurrect and retread the same events over and over again that plagues serials when lesser writers without original ideas get let loose on them. Settings like WoW (like Star Wars, like Star Trek, like Dune) are whole universes. You should be expanding the borders, making them feel bigger, more fine-grained, more alive, not beating the same major characters to death over and over again. The ancient Kaldorei are way more interesting as a lost past and a lesson in hubris than fish-snake-people who live under the sea.

Also, water levels are dumb and I hate them. This applies to coral-and-shellfish themed zones regardless of whether swimming is involved.

Cho’gall: I loved the “insane nihilist death cult” reincarnation of the Twilight’s Hammer Clan in World of Warcraft, and Cho’gall as the many-eyed crazed ogre mage with two heads was great. Would much rather have more Cho’gall than Guldan 2.0.

While I’m on Cataclysm: one thing you don’t often feel in worlds like WoW is the possibility of real defeat, because for extradiegetic reasons, it’s impossible to truly lose in any long-lasting way (or, in quests like Battle for the Undercity in WotLK, they just… don’t let you, which feels dumb as heck). I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of a post-apocalyptic fantasy world, a world where the bad guys won, and all the worst things the good guys feared came to pass. I think this is one reason I loved the original interpretation of the Draenei so much, because we saw in Draenor what that really looked like. It was bleak, and it was poignant, and even though it was set within a silly melodrama, it actually moved me. Cataclysm did something similar with the postapocalyptic time-travel instance (time travel being used well for once in WoW!), where you saw that Deathwing’s victory wasn’t just an abstract possibility, but a thing that could actually happen. It made the possibility of defeat feel more real, and it gave you a taste of that same bleak, poignant feeling: this, it said (just for a moment!) is what failure looks like, an Azeroth without life, without hope, in which everything you ever struggled for was utterly in vain. And that motivated you to work even harder to prevent it.

Alleria, Turalyon: “You last saw us in WC2, and since then we’ve been fighting a thousand years (subjective) of endless war against the Burning Legion and been irrevocably changed by the experience” is actually pretty great! But if I were going to rewrite WoW lore, I would make that a thousand objective years and set the final victory over the Burning Legion in the future, at a time when the Alliance and Horde have made a durable peace, and Azeroth has moved on from decades of endless war. I think there’s a real problem with trying to make the player one of the heroes that brings down Sargeras for good because it’s *such* an epic battle, but it’s a massively multiplayer game. Making every player the grand master of their class order was bad enough, but when you are obviously playing out entirely different diegesis from everyone around you, even if you didn’t have problems like sharding and a glut of phasing and cross-server activities and instant teleportation to dungeons, it really feels like a single-player RPG with a chat function. I mean, conflicting diegeses is always going to be a problem with questing-based MMOs, but suspension of disbelief worked when you were plainly one person embedded in a larger effort, like in vanilla, BC, and WotLK. But “you are one of thousands of people who is the Best Warrior Ever and sole Leader of the Warriors, and who has the Only Artifact Weapon that somehow also has thousands of copies”… yeah, that just doesn’t work for me. I feel like I’m being pandered to, and not in a fun way, like with the Pandaren.

Sargeras: I like that they retconned Sargeras to have a better motivation than “demons made me nihilistic.” The idea of a void-corrupted titan being something so terrible a member of the Pantheon would shatter worlds to prevent it is interesting. But the Void gods still feel… kinda non-threatening? We don’t see them actively working to threaten anything we really care about, the Void is mostly a pretty passive abstract force like the Light, and in general I feel like the setting isn’t really dualistic, but er… trialistic? Is that a word? In that there’s a three-way opposition between the Void, the Light, and the Nether/Arcane, from the perspective of which each is the opponent of both of the others, but that’s never laid out explicitly anywhere.

[hxseok-honee]

uncertain | e2l!taehyung drabble

a/n : here you go anon! i hope you like it!

-

“Can’t you move a little faster? Or do you actually enjoy taking up the entire sidewalk like an asshole?” She glances over her shoulder at the familiar voice, a smirk present on her lips. The earbud that she’d pulled out of her ear in order to hear goes right back in her ear as she adjusts her backpack and responds, not even bothering to keep eye contact.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I in your way? It must be frustrating, huh? Kind of like how you purposefully sit right in front of me in class to block the view with your big ass head.” She can feel him getting closer, and she prepares herself for the way he comes up next to her and nudges her over angrily with his elbow, giving himself more room on the sidewalk. Sighing deeply to stop herself from yelling, she raises the volume of her music to block him out as he talks, but his unnaturally deep voice filters through anyway.

“I sit in front of you because it’s the best seat in the room, and it doesn’t matter whether you can see or not- it’s not like you’re smart enough to pass the class anyway.” She contemplates ignoring him and being the better person, but she can’t help herself. Pulling the earbud out again, she looks up at him as they walk down the street.

“Didn’t you hear, Taehyungie? I’m the only person that got 100 on the last exam. What did you get again? A 95? That’s pretty good, but unfortunately not good enough.” She says this just as they’re nearing her apartment, so she takes the opportunity to cross the street and walk away from him. She’s almost at her door when a hand wraps around her arm and pulls her back. She stumbles backward as she spins, the only thing keeping her steady being Taehyung’s hand. She stops right in front of him, their noses almost touching as he bends forward to look her in the eye, annoyance written across his face.

“You think you’re so fucking special, Y/n. You’ve been doing nothing but trying to get under my skin since the day we met, it’s almost like you just want all my attention or something. Even the cute little nicknames, it’s all so suspicious, don’t you think? I didn’t think I’d have to warn you not to fall in love with me, Y/n.” She rips her arms from his grasp with a grimace, pushing him away with both hands.

“Don’t ever put your fucking gross ass hands on me again, asshole. You wish I wanted more to do with you than what I already have to deal with. Get your head out of you ass and focus on something other than fighting me all the time. I’ve got better things to do.” With that, she turns and unlocks the door with shaking hands, throwing herself through the entrance with a huff and slamming it shut behind her, furious beyond belief. She doesn’t see the way Taehyung waits for her to get inside before sighing softly to himself, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking away from her apartment back in the direction they’d come from, a lot further from home than he should have been.

-

“He’s so fucking frustrating! Hobi, what do I do? I hate him so much I think I might die!” Y/n flops down on her sofa, laying her head haphazardly on Hoseok’s lap as he attempts to finish a lab report that was due ages ago. He jumps when she makes contact with his leg, yanking his headphones out to hear her properly.

“Wait, what’s happening? Is this about Taehyung again?” She hums once, the anger leaving her slowly and fading into a simple gloomy mood as Hoseok starts to run his fingers through her hair to calm her down. “You know that guy can only bother you as much as you let him, right?”

“He insinuated that I’m in love with him like two minutes ago, I can’t help that I’m heated.” Hoseok contains his chuckle as he listens to her, trying not to piss her off even more.

“I mean… You kind of talk about him a lot… And the fact that you seem so upset about this is kind of weird but I support you, honey. You know that.” He jumps as she sits up suddenly, staring at her with wide eyes as she whips around to glare at him.

“Are you agreeing with Taehyung right now? Kim Taehyung, the worst person to walk this earth?” Hoseok blinks twice, carefully choosing his words so as not to incite her wrath.

“Okay… so you remember that one day that you came home and ranted about how he was hanging off of some girl in the hallway and it just bothered you so much because you apparently felt bad for the girl? Y/n that didn’t exactly come off the way you might have thought…” She scoffs at him, shaking her head.

“He was being so obnoxious, and she looked so uncomfortable!”

“It sounds like it was only you that was annoyed by the situation… Also what about that day that you were in the library and he came in and sat down at the table next to yours? Why were you mad then?”

“Because he was too close to me! If he was gonna invade my space he might as well have just sat with me, that would have been less bothersome than having him in my peripherals the whole time.”

“So… you would have found it less annoying if he sat directly in front of you, completely in your view, than if he had sat in your peripherals?”

“Precisely.” Hoseok blinks at her, raising one eyebrow to let her know how ridiculous she sounded.

“Okay… what about right now? What happened?” Y/n recounts the experience word for word, the conversation still burned in her mind. When she’s done, Hoseok is staring at her in disbelief.

“So what you’re saying is… this man willingly found you after your classes had ended, even though you only share one class and he shouldn’t know your schedule. Then he proceeded to get your attention, keep your attention, and walk you home? And along the way you called him a cute pet name, which he himself identified as cute, and then you got flustered after he asserted that you’re in love with him and you ran away?” She sits there, staring blankly at Hoseok as she processes his words.

“Okay, first of all, my schedule’s really not that hard to figure out, I’m pretty predictable-”

“-He’d have to be paying enough attention to you to pick up on it though-”

“- and he didn’t just call out to me to get my attention, I was in his way-”

“-he could have walked around you without saying anything, those sidewalks are massive-”

‘-and he wasn’t walking me home, he just ran into me while walking home-”

“-you do realize he lives in the opposite direction of this place, right?”

“-and as for the nickname- wait what did you just say?” Hoseok chuckles at her, amazed that she’s like this.

“His apartment is in the complete other direction. I’m friends with one of his roommates, that kid Jungkook in my physics class. He lives on the other side of campus, Y/n.” She reverts to her state of blinking at him, even more confused than she was before. She sits there for so long that Hoseok waves his hand in front of her face to check that she’s still with him. Her eyes focus in on him, a weird new gleam to them that he can’t place even after knowing her for so long.

“Can you get me his address?”

“What?”

-

Y/n stands in front of Taehyung’s apartment complex, staring up at it as she contemplates the chaos she’s about to cause. It had taken her almost half an hour to walk here in the dark, and the entire time she was wondering to herself just why he would ever go to the extent of walking her home when he lives so far. Before she can stop herself, she takes one quick breathe and climbs the stairs to the second floor, where she walks along the hall until she reaches the door inscribed with the number written on the little sheet of paper Hobi had handed to her.

Raising one fist, she knocks without hesitating, knowing she’d only trick herself into running away if she stopped to think about it. The door swings open a few moments later, and she’s greeted by a shirtless and sleepy looking Taehyung. His eyes are still half-closed and his hair is very ruffled, cueing her into the fact that she had woken him up even though it was barely 8pm.

“Were you taking a nap? It’s so early.” Taehyung’s eyes shoot open at the sound of her voice, and he has to physically restrain himself from screaming when he registers that it really is her. Instead he does the only logical thing he can think of- he slams the door in her face. Y/n stares at the wood of the door, wondering what the hell just happened. She contemplates knocking again, but she’s interrupted by the sound of the doorknob turning again. The door opens slightly, Taehyung’s face peering cautiously out at her. She notices he has a shirt on now, and she can’t help but think that he looked better without it.

“Y/n? How do you know where I live?”

“Why did you walk me home today?”

“What?”

“Why did you walk me home today?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because you went out of your way to walk me home and I want to know why.”

“I just ran into you.”

“How’d you know my schedule? How’d you know where I’d be?”

“Why are you so curious?”

“Because you’re acting weird and now I feel weird and I want to know why you’re doing things that make me question myself!” Taehyung opens the door a little wider.

“Why are you questioning yourself?” Y/n huffs loudly.

“Because you’re fucking confusing and now I can’t tell if I actually hate you or if I’m just masking something else.” Taehyung frowns slightly.

“Well if you don’t hate me then what are you masking?”

“Why did you walk me home today, Taehyung? Do you like me?” His frown deepens.

“What the fuck? No! Of course not.”

“Are you sure??” Taehyung pauses, his eyes lowering as he speaks.

“No…” Y/n takes a deep breath and steadies herself before saying what she’d been waiting to say since she’d gotten there.

“Do you wanna go out with me sometime?”

[haiky-u-lously]

There’s Magic in UA

Request: Heya :D Here I go again. I would like to request "A familiar that’s personality matches your soulmate’s" for BNHA Todoroki? I am really curious about this one :D Let me know if you need some more info or something ❤

A/n: This was harder to write than I anticipated. I’m also not so sure if its good enough...oh well. Oh! My studies about mythology have told me that in some tales familiars are viewed as basically power-ups. So, they are in essence, lesser than the witch they’ve connected to. So, when walking, witch/wizard leads the familiar. I tried to follow this line of belief for this story. Otherwise, have fun. Questions/comments/concerns/ideas etc. are welcome as always. Let me know what you think.

Summary: Sek’Hod is your familiar. Sekhmet is a god of fire from Egypt and Hod is a god of winter from Norse mythology. Your familiar is a cat. UA is not a school for heroes. It’s a school for wizards and witches alike. Not everyone has their familiar before entering UA, its more common to find your familiar during your last year there, or at the school you attend. However, sometimes things happen, people find their familiars before beginning classes. And…sometimes…students transfer in with them.

Warnings:Language, and mention of having anxiety/going into an attack (not detailed and is very brief).

Enjoy!--Admin Red

____________________________

“Where did I..” You drawled out, more to yourself, spinning in search of the practically cursed item. “Sek’Hod, have you seen..?” Looking at your other half, you watched as the di-chromatic kitten blinked at you. Continuing her staring as if you had not addressed her so explicitly. Sighing, you realized you’d have to try some more, show your familiar that you were indeed actually trying on your own.

After a few more minutes spent in vain, upon hearing the chime of the silver bell around her collar, you turned to Sek’Hod.

And saw your wand perched on the table right next to her.

“Thank you, Sek’Hod. Now we can be on our way.” Straightening up, you brushed off any possible dirt particles.

Today you started at your new transfer school. Home of the best wizards and witches in Japan.

You watched as Sek’Hod jumped off her favorite spot in order to follow you, and smiled widely. Finding her had been the best feeling ever. As soon as you had seen the kitten, you knew she was yours and you hers. It took less than an hour for the connection to form and your parents told you that they hadn’t heard of the action forming that quickly except for in the top duos. Lucky for you, their belief in that was so deep they did everything in their power to get you transferred to this school.

Where your idol, All Might had chosen to begin his professing career.

Locking the door behind you, and tying your ropes tights you made short work of the walk to your new class.

____________________________

A dark haired, exhausted looking professor had stopped you from entering the class.

He led you away and explained the process that had your expression in a deep frown.

“Since you just transferred in and we don’t know what you know in comparison to our students, you have to do all the tests they’ve taken up to this point. Any you fail, you will be given supplementary lessons for and will do again. If you fail after that, you will be sent back to your prior school.” The older professor seemingly glared at you, “Do you have any questions?”

You shook your head. While not the nicest way to say it, the instructions were very clear. Pass, stay. Fail twice, leave. Simple.

Sek’Hod meowed once at you curtly, and you mentally thanked her for the understood piece of comfort.

She believed in you. Your parents believed in you. And, the school must have as well or they wouldn’t have waited to tell me this until after I moved all my stuff into the dorms.

You entered the room with your cat trailing behind you.

Noticing the posted schedule you saw you’d have three tests a day for two weeks. It made sense to you with all the listed courses.

__________________________

During each testing period, Sek’Hod laid by the windows. Sometimes, rarely, she’d lift her head and stare at you.

However, when you did nothing new (except maybe give a small wave or smile her way) she’d lay it back down and continuing staring. You’d also seen her take some bored-like looks out the window.

She must have felt you staring back at her then because the quick-witted cat turned away quickly and moved to the opposite side of the room, to sit directly behind you.

Which made you scoff despite yourself, “Oh, Sek’Hod. So silly.”

__________________________

After your first week of testing you were ready to be done.

Every time during meal periods, Sek’Hod just pushed her food around for a long while before eating. You were getting more and more nervous about this new habit and hated that you didn’t know what to do to fix it.

But things didn’t change even during the weekend.

“Come Sek’Hod. Please, just eat your food?” You were practically pleading with her. She hissed at you and made to turn away, as if your words were poisonous to her.

Which is when you had the bright idea to try and grab her by lifting her from the stomach.

“Shit shit shit shit shit!” You cursed out, left hand flinging to hold your right. “Sek’Hod, you bitch!” You yelled, glaring at her.

The empty look told you she felt no remorse for the combined bite and scratch.

Participating in a sudden staring match with your cat, you nearly missed the rapid knocking on your door.

When it finally reached your ears, you shot up to catch the person before they left well-and-good alone. “Hi, sorry about that.”

“Oh, no! I’m sorry for interrupting. We just heard a scream and wanted to check if you were okay?” The bubbly-looking girl in front of you explained, her checks turning a bright pink shade.

“Yes, yes. Thank you, yes. I’m fine. Just Sek’Hod being mean, because I’m trying to help her!” Determinedly screaming the last part back towards where you knew that cat was in wait.

Just hearing a curt meow in response.

“Wait, you have a cat?” The girl asked in disbelief.

You smiled, “Of course. Sek’Hod is my familiar. It’s against the laws to split a chosen and familiar.” Reminding her of the law, you motioned for the girl to enter your room. Getting a sense that she’d be a good person to make friends with.

__________________________

Uraraka was pretty close to what you expected. She was bubbly and nice, and she was calling you guys friends before she left. It felt nice after practically a week of being near alone.

“See, Sek’Hod?” The cat just looked at you, as if she was done with your shit. “That’s how you should be. Nice.”

She just walked away.

_________________________

The next day you decided to get up early to get a good breakfast. Wanting to start the second week of testing with a good attitude.

Unfortunately for you, some magic-less people decided they were going to try and steal from you on your way to the restaurant.

Luckily thought, Sek’Hod had been angry with the change in schedule and wanted to take out her anger on something.

So, she did.

On the assholes that tried to attack you.

And, boy did they regret that early morning (late night?) choice. Because while all three ran away, two were crying while doing so.

“Hahah, so much for those gangster wanna-be’s. Huh, Sek’Hod?” You enthusiastically asked.

A small up turn of her mouth told you that the cat agreed with your sentiment.

Without another trouble the day went well.

__________________________

It was finally over.

All your make-up testing. And beyond the goddess, you passed everything. Some with flying colors. Your potions test having improved sleepy Mr. Frown-head (who’d you long since learned was actually the one and only Eraserhead) to the point that the man didn’t say anything in response to your score. Which opposed all his negative comments on the others.

You’d also discovered the man liked pushing students to the edge. Only telling them what they could improve on so that they wouldn’t get complicit or do something stupid. So when he didn’t tell you something immediately it felt good to stump the man. Especially knowing all about his reputation in the world of magics.

“Well (Y/N), guess since you didn’t fail you get to stay.” He said briefly before walking away.

You were smiling on your walk back to your room, imagining what you could say to Uraraka about everything since you hadn’t seen her since the night you’d met. When a blonde kicked a door open right in front of you.

Yelping obviously wouldn’t help the situation, but that didn’t stop the action from occurring.

Glaring at you, the boy’s look had you apologizing immediately. He squinted briefly before making to storm off.

Taking a second to breath, you realized what door he’d just walked out of. “Wait!” But your calls went unanswered. Jogging, you tried again.

And, again.

Right when you were about to take a deep breath to try again, you saw him come to a complete stop.

Following the slouching figure, you saw your cat blankly looking back into the red-eyes of the blonde.

“What do you want, stupid cat?”

But Sek’Hod just kept staring, empty eyes into angry ones.

“Well!” The kid screamed.

Before he could do much else, you spoke again. “Sorry, about Sek’Hod. As a familiar, she follows my will. And, I wanted you to stop.”

“Why should I stop for some idiot I don’t know?” He asked angrily.

You sighed, and beant down to pet behind your friend’s ears, her favorite spot. “You’re right. But when someone keeps calling wait, and running after you, you’d think that’d at least be enough to scream at them to leave you alone. Or give them a chance to explain what they want. Just ignoring the matter won’t make it go away. And, obviously, I got what I wanted in the long run, so you could have—”

“You talk to much dip-shit.” He commented and moved to walk away again. Sek’Hod stood in his path once again and you heard muttering of a spell.

Sending your own cast over your kitten, you screamed at him. “Why would you try to make my familiar blow up you jerk?! All I was going to ask was if you were in 2-A!? Now, I hope to the goddess you aren’t because screw this if I’m with an asshole like you. Let’s go Sek’Hod.” You took off at an alarmingly quick and harsh manner.

“Yo!” He called. After your speech about listening to people calling after you, you felt you couldn’t be hypocritical. Taking a deep sigh, you turned and raised an eyebrow at him. “Who the hell are you?”

You smiled mischievously, and felt Sek’Hod rolling her eyes at your behavior. The cat began her walk back towards your room knowing you’d catch up after your drama inducing phase paced. “I’m the person whose gunna beat your ass if you touch my cat. That’s who.”

It sounded like a growl came from the boy, but you no longer cared. Racing after you familiar you kept calling, “Sek’Hod! Come’on! I wasn’t that bad this time! Look I even walked away before a battle broke!” But no matter what you said, your cat just kept walking in front of you. Showing anyone who passed that you were currently the lesser being between you.

________________________

Once you made it back to the room, you were happily surprised to find A bubbly-brunette standing patiently at your door.

“Hey Uraraka. How are you?”

She jumped with a small yelp. “Oh! (Y/N)! You scared me, I thought you were inside.”

“I can see that, hahah” Motioning for her to move over, you unlocked the room to let Sek’Hod find her way in. “But, how are you?”

Smiling, Uraraka clapped before answering. “Good! This week was interesting, but they finally told the class you’d be coming next week. I can’t wait to be in the same class.”

You grinned at her and went through the motions of your turn down routine. “Oh?”

The simple question was all she needed. Going into detail about her week and the practice duels they’ve had in preparation for the wizard-tournament that was occurring before the end of the term, and everything else going on in the class.

Sek’Hod lazily swung her hand back and forth, hanging off the ledge from her laying position perched on the counter top.

“I see I see.” You commented absentmindedly, looking in the fridge for Sek’Hod’s food. You felt bad that you weren’t paying full attention to your new friend, but knew you had to keep Sek’Hod on schedule.

“Hey (Y/N)?” She suddenly asked, drawing your attention back to facing her. “Your cat reminds me of someone I know from class, how would you explain her personality?”

You smiled, “Oh Uraraka. We don’t have time for that. Aren’t you tired from your coursework?”

She giggle and waved away your excuses. “Sechead can’t be that bad.”

“Sek’Hod.” You correct quickly, before the kitten did anything.

“Sorry, she smiled at your little princess, “Sek’Hod. I’m sure she’s not nearly as bad as you just made her sound. She’s so pretty, and both times I’ve seen her she seems to just chill out.”

Laughing out at the top of your lungs caused said kitten to glare at you. “Sorry, sorry. But really? Sek’Hod. You just brutally attacked three burly individuals this week because you were woken up earlier than normal. And, you want to lay there and act as if you are perfect??”

The hum of a meow back sent you laughing again.

“Sorry Uraraka. This must seem rude, you’ll learn quickly how familiars talk to you when you find yours.” An encouraging smile from her made you feel like there were no problems. “Sek’Hod is…different than how people expect her to be. She doesn’t like most people. Well, she makes them think that. She actually really couldn’t care less. She likes to be alone, but she’s getting better about that, seeing as she’s around me all the time. She calculates things the same way no matter what. Like…I needed to remember a potions mix when studying for a test a bit back and she calmly helped me think through it when I put myself towards an anxiety attack from being so stressed about missing a word. And then I needed a spell in the middle of an actual fight that occurred and she was able to help calm me and recall it, without a problem. She knows exactly what I need and doesn’t baby me to get it. Constantly pushing me to do things on my own before just relying on her.” You leaned over the counter and scratched behind her ears with a small smile. “She seems cold, but I like to think of it as being collected. My parents said they thought she was going to be too much after we realized how brutal she could be in her actions, but I think it just adds more to our connection since she brings something new to me. She hates this one guy we’ve seen on the news a lot back home, and I’m not sure why I understand that she has very deeply rooted reasons behind the constant hisses and attempts to destroy the television.”

Looking into Uraraka’s eyes, you realized you’d been rambling.

“Sorry. I just…sorry.”

“Oh, no. Don’t apologize. You’ve just confirmed something for me.” She smiled.

“Ohhkay..?” You both said and asked at the same time.

The rest of the night was much like the first. Both you and her just discussing random things and getting to know each other more. By the time she was ready to return to her own room, Sek’Hod had been willing to let her pet her a total of two times.

A huge accomplishment in your book.

________________________

The actual first day of class had you nervous. Wondering if everyone would be as friendly as Uraraka or as shitty as that rude ass boy from before.

A strong meow from Sek’Hod had you shaking away your fears, and making your way into the room despite lingering nerves.

Upon entry, sounds stopped.

Uraraka forgot to mention how the professor described you. But the first question thrown your way made you understand.

“So you really do already have your familiar?”

You just nodded, not knowing exactly where the question had come from. Just to have many voices asking you a bunch of questions over one another, and you weren’t able to make out any of them.

It was just your luck that another person came in just then, sternly reprimanding into the class, “Midoriya, when you want something done quickly, for something like that, you text me more information.”

While the new person’s voice was firm you could tell there was no malice behind it, however everyone’s voices in the room grew quiet and you were suddenly more thankful for the sudden appearance than you thought you were just from their interrupting voice.

“Why are we all just standing at the front of the room?” He asked.

Turning around, you saw the same blank look you cat gave you multiple times a day. It made you giggle, and you almost lost it completely when the gaze turned directly on you and you noticed the male’s eyes were di-chromatic, like your cat’s as well.

“And you are?”

Sticking your hand out, you introduced yourself. “(L/N) (Y/N). Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, you are the new transfer with the familiar. No matter. You won’t surpass me.” His confidence was clear, and you just kept smiling. Getting a sense that this guy was just used to being told he was better than everyone, not that the same feeling you had felt from the blonde who was suddenly angrily approaching your small group.

“Oi, don’t go bringing others into this.” He growled. “I’ve told you’d fall to me. Got that IcyHot?”

Ignoring the blonde, the split haired male gave you his undivided attention. “May I meet your familiar?”

“Sure!” You readily agreed. Turning to your side, you indicated the kitten. “This is Sek’Hod. Her eyes kind of match yours, see?”

“Yes.” He answered simply.

You noticed that your cat held no qualms about this random boy, but could not fully understand why.

However, right when you were about to comment, sleepy Mr. Frown-head came in walked in to begin class.

__________________________

When the course work finished for the day, you bent to get Sek’Hod from under your desk.

Discovering she wasn’t there, you looked around the class and found her under Todoroki’s desk in the back corner of the room.

She was lazily watching you, and you motioned for her to come.

Looking at Todoroki’s legs next to her, she then sent you an empty look and sat up.

…

…

…

Just to stay in a seated position under his desk, looking at you with a bored expression.

You huffed out a sigh and made you way over. “Sorry, Todoroki. But, Sek’Hod has apparently decided that it was better to sit under your desk and is refusing to come out now.”

The boy blinked at you, before maneuvering to look around his desk at the floor.

Sek’Hod blinked back up at him. Repeated the action he’d just given you and you gasped.

Head jerking around, and catching eyes with a bubbly brunette, yours widened in question.

Uraraka grinned widely and nodded in quick succession.

“Um, Todoroki?” You asked, getting his attention back on you and away from your cat.

Sek’Hod jumped up onto the desk, waiting to see what was going on, but holding the uninterested gaze she always presented.

“Um, you know that story about familiars and soulmates and all that right?”

Cocking his head slightly to the side, it looked like the addressed was thinking. “Yes.” He replied curtly.

You head dropped to hide an unexpected smile. He was so much like you cat and you’d known him less than a day. Finding his gaze again, you took a deep breath, “Does Sek’Hod kind of remind you of anyone?”

Todoroki blinked at you, looked at your cat, glanced at you again before holding a staring contest with your kitten. The dual di-chromatic eyes staring at each other was cute, but you wished he’d connect the dots, or at the very least let you connect them for him.

“I don’t know her well enough to make that assessment.” He finally answered.

You dropped your head into your hands in surrender. Now, what…

“Oh gosh darn it Todoroki! It’s you!” Three voices yelled from the front of the room.

You turned, saw a short green haired male, a tall blue haired male, and Uraraka moving their hands away from their mouths with teeth-y smiles covering their faces.

Facing him once again, you realized Todoroki was frozen in shock. “It’s okay Todoroki. We just met today. If you want to wait to explore this side of things I am perfectly okay with that. I mean I just met you, and you don’t even have your familiar yet. And, who is fate to say we have to change our dynamics right away just because we know we will eventually? And its just not that bad being friends with someone while you still grow as a person. SO, I really don’t see the problem with this at all. And—”

“(Y/N)!!” You heard Uraraka laugh-scream at you.

Nodding you understood what she was saying. “Uraraka’s right. I’m rambling. Sorry.”

Apologizing almost made you miss the slight curl of the tail end of his lips. A smile matching your cat’s as Sek’Hod laid back down to watch the rest of your interactions.

“It’s taken me a few moments to think of what this meant.” He said, voice full of strength in contradiction to your own. “But, my classmates over there, especially Midoriya seem to want to compel us to drag this out now and blow it right up.”

You laughed, realizing he was trying to lessen your nerves, but let him continue.

“The whole plan with the time we’ve got…what I don’t have yet…I’m still your soulmate then.” It seemed like he was reasoning with the situation, and you weren’t sure how to respond, so you didn’t. “Excuse me.”

The simple conclusion confused you. And, you watched in a state of loss as Todoroki was suddenly pushing all three of your remaining classmates out of the room and shutting the door behind them.

“Very well.” He said once the door was closed behind their figures.

After nothing more was said, you questioned his meaning. “What?”

“We are soulmates. You familiar’s personality apparently matches mine, and I am sure whenever I find mine it’ll match yours. Actually, getting to know you more would probably help me find my own quicker.” He explained. Returning to your side, his desk, to get his personal items.

“Just like that?”

“Yes.” He replied curtly, standing in an upright position, and looking at you with the same expression that was currently resting on Sek’Hod’s face.

You nodded, smiling.

Giddily making you way back towards the dorms with your soulmate on your side and your familiar following behind you.

[why-mca-blog]

Night Life (Chapter 1)

Murder Wasn’t On My To-Do List Today, But Here We Are

Slow night at Griddy’s, just the way I like it. I let out a huff of relief as I fling the door open and clear the floor to the counter faster than I should be able to. It was one hell of a day, and I was originally planning on actually sleeping tonight so I might avoid a trip to the office tomorrow, but then I remembered I’ll get sent in one way or another and I don’t care anymore. Coffee now, sleep in class. It’s a win-win, and I’m not about to argue my own logic.

I look over at the door and after determining that no one’s coming in anytime soon, I sprawl out on the counter. Agnes rolls her eyes and giggles a bit, knowing full well nothing she says will be able to change any of my actions in any way.

“(Y/n), dear, how many times do I have to tell you that my customers would not be very happy to see a person lying where they’re trying to eat their food?”

I shamelessly let out a snort. “Oh, come on! Nobody’s here and if someone comes in I’ll get down.”

She sighs and starts toward the back, calling back to me as she went. “I’ll be right back with your coffee, (Y/n). Behave yourself out there.”

“Agnes, you’re amazing! A goddess, I’m telling you!”

When she gets to the kitchen I let myself close my eyes for a bit. Only a second or two passed before the bell signaling the arrival of a customer startled me, and in my moment of disarray, I fell from the counter, taking a few chairs down with me.

With a groan, I push myself up from the cold tile floor. I hear a light chuckling somewhere to my left, and I ignore whoever it is, getting up and putting the chairs back into their upright position. I’m used to being laughed at, so I don’t let him get a comment in before I can.

“What’re you laughing at, jackass?” When I finally look over at him I’m more surprised by the schoolboy uniform than anything.

“Nice shorts.”

“Nice landing.”

Taken aback by how smooth his clapback was, I failed to find my voice before an older man walked in sitting down next to the boy. I study him for a moment before deciding he’s a year or two younger than me, but it’s hard to be sure. Age is a tricky thing.

Just then Agnes walked back in with my coffee, which I swiftly pick up, eager to feel the warmth spread across my palms and fingertips and to have the intoxicating scent fill my senses. I felt the boy’s eyes on me, but I brushed it off, relishing this brief moment of bliss; the best part of my day. I’m aware that coffee isn’t all that, but I can sip away my worries if I want to. Which I always do. While I’m absorbed in my nightly dose of caffeine, Agnes turns her attention to the older man.

“So what’ll it be?”

“I’ll have a chocolate eclair.”

Agnes glances over to the boy, who up until this point had kept to himself.

“Can I get the kid a glass of milk or something?”

I look over at him, waiting to see what he’ll do next. He definitely doesn’t seem like the type of guy to take well to being treated like a little kid, which I can understand just the same as most teenagers.

“The kid wants coffee. Black.” I held back a snort as he grinned, clearly trying to be cute for the sake of the situation. Agnes glanced back and forth between him and the man trying to figure out what to do. Finally, she looked at the man and offered a smile.

“Cute kid.” When she finally disappeared into the kitchen, I glanced back at the boy, still trying not to laugh. He sighed and looked over at the man.

“I don’t remember this place being such a shithole. I used to come here as a kid. I used to sneak out with my brothers and sisters and eat donuts ‘til we puked.” He pressed his lips together and wore an expression that seemed to be thoughtful and nostalgic. He nodded a bit and continued.

“Simpler times, huh?”

The man, obviously confused, looked at the boy with furrowed brows.

“Uh,” he paused “I suppose?”

I can’t hold it back anymore. I burst into hysterics, finding it harder to breathe the more I laughed. Blinking back tears, I spoke between gasps for air.

“What are you?” I wheezed. “You’re what? Thirteen? Fourteen?” I hit the counter a few times, a stabbing pain etching itself into my side.

“You’re talking like you’re an old man, jeez,” I pause for a second, finally catching my breath “that’s pure gold, kid.” I smile over at him.

“Really; priceless.”

“It wasn’t that funny.” He arches his eyebrow at me and as I try to settle down he gets an address from the man, who promptly gets away from the strange pair we make as quickly as he could. Probably a smart move on his part.

I burst out laughing again, and he looks at me, dumbfounded.

“Really, it wasn’t that funny. I don’t understand why you’re laughing so hard.”

“Neither do I, but I haven’t laughed like this in years, so I might as well make it last.” He opens his mouth to say something but then seems to decide against it. We sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, sipping away at our coffees. At least until all hell broke loose.

The bell at the door rang off and in the blink of an eye, we were surrounded with guns pointed at us. Definitely not what I expected from today. I glance over at the boy, who seems to be using the bell in front of him as a mirror of some sort. Smart. Without looking up, he calmly pipes up.

“Well, that was fast.”

“You can make this easy.” The guy aiming his gun directly at the boy’s temple seemed anxious. “I don’t want to shoot a couple of kids. Go home with that on my conscience.”

“Lucky for you, you won’t have to.” I notice his hand wrapping around a knife and get ready to take cover. In a flash, the boy stabbed the first man in the throat. I close my eyes, thinking the two men behind him would shoot him and not particularly interested in watching this kid die. Gunfire. Fuck.

“Hey, assholes!” My head shoots up. The boy isn’t dead next to me. Instead, he’s on a table across the diner, mocking all the men trying to kill him. And then he’s not. He’s not even in the building anymore. Before leaving me alone with these freaks still surrounding me for too long, he knocks on the front door, getting their attention. This kid is insane, but so am I. I’m not about to let him have all the fun. While they’re distracted, I take the opportunity to grab the closest thing to me and hop in the fight. This would probably feel a lot more promising had the closest thing to me not have been a dull pencil.

Fuck it, I think to myself, it’s not like I can back out now.

I run up to one of the men and tap him on the shoulder. When he turns around to look at me, I strike, burrowing the pencil deep in his eye socket.

I flip a table and get behind it as they shoot at me, trying to think of what to do next. The gunfire stops, and I peek over to see the kid strangling one of them with his necktie. I make eye contact with him when he finishes his kill, and when he looks up I subtly point to the two terrified-looking men across from each other and hope he knows what I mean.

I run over and hop up on a chair getting behind the first guy and the boy teleports over and gets behind the other. Caught up in killing the two of us, they forget any logic behind their shot and end up shooting each other. I hop down from the chair and wink at the boy, just before I feel a huge arm wrap around me and a gun settle of my temple. The boy is still across the room, clearly at a loss for what to do.

“Give yourself in or your little friend here dies!” I shrug at the boy, not really being able to do much else and his horrified expression melts to anger. Suddenly he’s gone and although I’m terrified, all I can do is trust him. Suddenly I hear something snap loudly in my ear and the man collapses on top of me. The boy helps me roll him off of me and offers his hand to help me up. I gratefully accept and I brush myself off.

“I have no clue what just happened, but now I feel like a badass.” I look up at the boy, beaming.

“You’ll get used to it. Being a badass will be second nature to you in no time.” He smirks at me, obviously proud of his work. We stand like that for a second before he seems to remember something. He teleports over to the counter and pulls out a knife, digging it into his forearm. He starts digging around in the wound and pulls out a small electronic device blinking green. He looks over at me.

“If you tell anyone about any of this, I’ll have to kill you.”

“As if I have anyone to tell?” I giggle a little. “Besides, my plan was definitely to turn myself in for murder. That seems like a plan that I’ll benefit a lot from.”

He studies my face for a moment and then follows suit in my laughing.

“You. I like you.”

“Well you better, because we’re partners in crime now.” I continue after he rolls his eyes. “Besides, I’m not letting a psychopath like you skip off into the night,” I smile sweetly at him “we’re a team now.” He smiles back and looks down at his bloodstained hands.

“Well, I guess you’re going to have to tell me your name if you want that to happen, don’t you think?”

“(Y/n). (Y/n) (l/n).”

“Well, (Y/n), I’m glad you were here to lend a hand tonight. I’m Five.” I snort.

“I mean you look it, but I was hoping for your name, not your age.” He rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“My name is Number Five. Five Hargreeves.”

“Well Five, we have one thing in common.” I giggle as he looks at me, confusion drawn into his features.

“What would that be?”

“Our parents hate us.”

“Fuck you.”

“My pleasure.”

[rambling-at-midnight]

Hacked: Part 9

Pom, Dennis, and Juna, who is holding Crookshanks, are waiting for you at the cabin. The sun is just starting to rise over the buildings and you stop for a moment to admire the view, knowing it’s the last you’ll be seeing of it for two long years.

The small cat, looking healthier after just two days of being under Juna’s care, meows when he sees you. You grin at him, scratching his head with one finger. He’s still so tiny.

“You’re coming back, right?” Juna asks, her chin trembling as she tries not to cry.

“I will,” you vow, crouching down to be at her level.

“I’m going to miss having you keep this terror busy,” Dennis says, jerking a thumb at his sister, before holding out a new armband for you. You take it with a watery smile and snap it over your right wrist, as the left is occupied by his watch. You press the single button on it and it melts into a new hoverboard. “For when you can’t carry around that one,” he says, nodding to your trusty old board. “The modes are activated by your voice. Bulletproof. Everything that has and more.” You pull him into a tight hug, gripping his neck as tightly as you can, standing on your tiptoes as he’s a bit taller than you. Maybe he’ll grow even more while you’re gone.

“And this is technically from Pom, but I made it and so I can explain it better,” he adds, holding a gun out to you. “The bullets reject blood and dirt and anything else, so they’re always pristine, and they always leave no trace, and they’re magnetic and will return to the gun no matter what. Once one has been fired, this—” he taps the cylinder—“opens up and it’s ready for another shot. Doesn’t fire until you say that you’re shooting something, so you won’t accidentally shoot yourself while it’s in your pocket or anything.”

You hug your newfound friend too, thanking her for her thoughtful gift, even though you probably won’t be shooting many things while you’re in Canada. Maybe you’ll go to a shooting range, if they even have those there.

Then Stick exits the house in an immaculate black suit, carrying a backpack. “Hey there,” he says, friendly, smiling. It looks and sound wrong. “I’m Samuel Gates.” He sticks out his hand.

You stare at him for a long moment, your mind working furiously to find out where you’ve heard that name, before you put it together. You can’t hold back the laughter. You bend over, nearly hysterical, but that might also be knowing that your life is ending. The burner laptop is in the school’s Dumpster, but it’ll only take them a few hours to trace the device that’d posted the article. When you straighten, you finally grasp the hand he’d been extending and pump it, your grin threatening to split your face open.

“Your article has already got more than a million people,” your fake father tells you and you feel dizzy. “Wow,” you breathe.

Pom slugs you in the shoulder. “You did it.”

You nod as if in a daze. “I really did it.”

“Your ride’s nearly here,” Dennis says sullenly.

“When will you guys tell me about the results of the case?” you ask quickly.

Stick shrugs. “It doesn’t matter what happens. I just filed the complaint because I want some eyes off of you, at least for the time being. People will be so busy watching the case they won’t notice you, sneaking across the border to Canada.”

“You did that… for me?” You smile broadly and look down, touching your cheeks with your hands. “Thank you,” you whisper.

You hate to ask Stick for more than what he’s given you—he’s given you everything—but you need to take care of one more thing before you leave. “I hate to ask for more, but I have one more thing…” You pause, and Pom nods at you, her eyes glistening. At least you’ll always have a friend in her. “When my mom dies, can you make sure she’s not alone?”

You kind of expect Pom to ask you why, especially because you had been complaining about her to her a week ago, but you forgot that she’s also lost her mom. She understands.

“I have to leave,” Stick says regretfully when two cars pull up to the clearing, one sleek and black and the other a beat-up Jeep. “And so do you.” He hands you the backpack. “For your troubles,” he says, then winks. You giggle.

“Come visit me, all right?” you order playfully, putting your hands on your hips as you glare at your three friends. “I’m going to miss you guys.” You turn away before remembering something and turning back around. You give them the address of the house that’d thrown out Crookshanks. “That’s where I found Crooksie,” you explain. “The dude there’d just thrown him out.”

Juna’s face had clouded with anger.

You hug them each one more time before jogging over to the Jeep. The driver is an older dude that’s been on missions with Pom before, but you’ve never spoken with him directly. You smile politely at each other before shoving the backpacks under your feet and hopping in. “Sweet car,” you say. He grins.  It is a sweet car—it’s really tall and compact and the windows have to be cranked up manually.

“Thanks. Music or no music?” he asks, carefully following behind the car Stick is in.

“No,” you say shortly, fiddling with your hands in your lap. Your heart is in your throat, the butterflies having a migration in your stomach, and your eyes won’t stop scanning the skies for your dad in his suit to come swooping in, ready to arrest you. You’re afraid the music would muffle the sounds of approaching police or Avengers. “Thanks for driving me,” you add.

“No problem,” he smiles. “It was practically a fight between the older kids. You’re basically a legend—hacking into Tony Stark’s personal accounts and releasing the stuff to the public? You’ve got guts, kid.”

More like you’re too stubborn to not go through with a reckless idea you’d mentioned once without thinking about the consequences.

“Still,” you mutter. “It’s quite a drive.”

“I’ve got nowhere else to be,” he assures you and you lean back in your seat, nerves tangled, fraying, and as tense as they’ve ever been. It starts to hit you, then, exactly what you just did: you pretty much ruined your dad’s reputation and maybe even life, your life is completely thrown off whack, and you’re leaving your friends behind without an explanation.

You nearly feel sick to your stomach when you remember that you’re never going to see Peter again, and even if you do, you won’t be able to tell him that you’re you. You’re going to say that you’re Ava Blake, Canadian orphan. You start to rummage through the backpack Stick had given you to take your mind off that. It has multiple credit cards, a few mini-bombs, and some cash, both American and Canadian.

“I’m Oakley,” he adds.

“Y/N,” you respond.

At one point or another you must fall asleep because you jerk awake to Oakley jostling your shoulder. Your heart pounds and you instinctively scan your surroundings for someone chasing you. You’re parked in the lot of a 7/11.

“We’re in Lenox Township, Pennsylvania,” Oakley tells you. “I thought you might need to take a bathroom break or get some food.”

You nod, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah.”

Six hours later, you get to the border. Oakley pulls into a line and gives a card to the guard at the gate. “She really did it?” the guard asks, impressed.

You smile shyly at him. “Yeah.”

He lets out a low whistle. “Damn. Keep it up, missy.” It would seem Stick’s got people everywhere.

Toronto reminds you a little too much of New York and you can feel your throat close up at the sight of it. Finally he pulls up in front of an old apartment building. You stare up at it, feeling suddenly very small and very scared. You wish anyone was here with you. You wish you had Crookshanks. You wish you’d never posted the article, you wish you’d never had the idea for the article, you wish you’d never been born from Tony Stark.

The apartment is large. Jacob and Bella both congratulate you on your accomplishment and that, at least, fills you with a bit of warmth, knowing that at least with Stick’s people you’re basically a hero. He’s probably—no, definitely—impressed. And this is only for two years. You can live with these two people, fresh out of college and practically teens themselves and insisting that you think of them as your older siblings and not parents. This is better than living with your mother for sure. You have the whole summer to get to know this city and your foster family. Your friends can come visit you during it.

You’re going to be fine.

If Peter had known what was going on, he would’ve chased after you.

It sounds like a weak excuse and he knows that, but it’s the truth. He hadn’t questioned your ‘job’ excuse, because you always seem to be working, and he had thought he could ask you what in the hell you meant by that kiss at lunch or during another class he shares with you. When he gets the call from Tony saying that the case had fallen through even before it had started, and that Peter needs to read an article before he can explain anything else, Peter had been ecstatic. It was just that he wasn’t a big fan of the article. He’d never even heard of a kid that was kidnapped from Tony Stark, and he immediately started to wonder how the author had gotten hold of those articles and Tony’s credit card records. The women would have been pretty easy to track down, but still. The article has a few really convincing and true points, and that makes Peter hate it even more.

Tony promises he’ll talk to Peter as soon as he can, after he smoothes out the whole article issue, and Peter has to brace himself before entering his apartment every day, preparing himself for Tony to be on the couch with Aunt May.

And you’re gone.

Ned and Michelle haven’t heard from you for the last two weeks. Your email and Google Voice are disconnected, and when Michelle had gone to the trailer where you used to live, your mother had confessed you hadn’t been home since the day you’d kissed Peter. She’d said it carelessly, MJ had reported, and Peter had had to restrain himself from going down there himself to shake sense into her. How could she not care that you’re missing?

He still doesn’t know why you kissed him. He’d told Ned and MJ that you said you loved them but he hadn’t mentioned the kiss. When he’d said that to them, MJ’s face had settled into a scowl. “That sounds like a sort of good-bye,” she’d drawled. “You didn’t think to mention this before? She might have been planning to run away, or even…” She lets her voice trail away before saying the dreaded possibility everyone has thought about.

Tony discounts the article easily, saying that the alcohol was because Thor had been over at that point and since he’s a god, he’s got a good alcohol tolerance. Everyone knows that Tony had slept around but he hasn’t had a one-night stand in years, especially because he’s got Pepper at home. He’d also mentioned that he had been told that the city would pay for the construction and he’d gotten all the local officials to agree with that, probably by paying them off.

When you hear about that, you’d nearly shot someone—your whole life, thrown out the window, and he just got to sit there, throwing money at the right people and wriggling out of yet another tight spot. You nearly cruise all the way back to New York just to put a bullet between his eyes, but Bella and Jacob had managed to convince you not to. Sure, your life’s definitely not the one you planned for, but at this rate, you’ll still be free. If you kill Stark, there’s no way you wouldn’t be hunted down.

It took three long weeks of Peter anxiously searching the streets of New York for you before Tony shows up to explain.

“This is a pretty complicated story,” the billionaire says heavily, slouching in his chair. The bags under his eyes are dark.

“Do you—do you want anything to eat?” Peter stutters, crossing his arms before uncrossing them because it probably looks rude but having them at his sides limply is weird, so he crosses his arms again, turning red.

Tony waves him off. “You deserve an explanation, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t exactly say that,” Peter chuckles, but he’d definitely like one.

“The article was written by Y/N Y/L/N,” Tony says abruptly.

Peter’s arms fall to his sides and he stares at Tony, slack-jaws. “P-pardon?”

“Y/N Y/L/N. She went to your school. She’s one of my—mine,” Tony stutters. It takes Peter a second to figure out what he’s saying before his eyes widen with recognition. Now he sees it—you two have the same eyebrows, the same chin, the same nose. He can’t believe he didn’t see it earlier. “It’s sort of complicated.”

“Y-you said that,” Peter laughs, tapping his thigh with his hand. You… you’re one of Tony Stark’s children, the elite group no one really wants to be in. He’d kissed Tony Stark’s daughter. Tony Stark’s daughter is now missing. He half expects Tony to shoot him right here in his apartment for doing so.

“Did you know her?��� Tony says quietly.

Peter shrugs before admitting, “Yeah,” and resigning himself to his death.

“Can you tell me about her?”