#also obsessed with the shrieking girl energy the two of them have. so good

[thenobleprincex]

that single tear thing ncuti does when the doctor is overwhelmed.... it hurts and I'm obsessed

[green-socks]

Endless Nights

Pairing: Benny Miller x gn!reader (no descriptions or pronouns)

Summary: You and Benny can't seem to get enough of each other's company. Could tonight be the night you find the courage to do something about that crush?

Words: 2,101

Warnings: Nudity but not the sexual kind, food/eating. Almost zero editing and a tired writer.

Notes: I don't always participate in Writer Wednesday, but when I do I take one look at the picture, get an idea and then go completely off the rails. Sorry. So the pic doesn't really have a lot to do with the rest of the fic but I hope that's okay. For this week's @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday, thanks for organizing it every week!

I had the idea for midnight shopping at the supermarket with Benny and then realized I didn't want the night to end there... So it didn't. I actually like this piece, even if it probably suffered a lot from my fast writing and non-existent editing. Reader is mentioned having shorter legs than Benny but other than that I think there are no descriptions or pronouns used of reader, lmk if I'm wrong.

MASTERLIST

You and Benny have been driving around aimlessly for a couple of hours already, taking turns in picking the music, and talking about this and that while sometimes falling into a companionable silence. It still amazes you how easy and comfortable everything is with him. You have never felt like this with a crush before, used to the feeling of always obsessing over what you felt like you could and couldn’t say or do, or spending a lot of time and energy into trying to figure out what the other thought.

No, with Benny you don’t have to pretend anything or force yourself to keep the conversation running in fear of those horrid awkward silences, because both of you know that you can talk for hours on end when the mood strikes. You met through mutual friends only a few weeks ago, but the connection was clearly there. As was the obvious mutual attraction.

Strictly speaking, though, you and Benny are just friends. Nothing has ever really happened to indicate otherwise in any case. But friends don’t usually try this hard to find any excuse just to hang out, nor do you stay up late every night talking to your other friends. And when you hang out in a group you always seem to gravitate towards one another. What’s more, somehow it always seems to be just the two of you left at the end of the night, often not even noticing the others leave.

Your interactions always border on the line of obvious flirting with your touches and already formed inside jokes, but neither of you ever dare do anything that couldn’t be brushed off as innocent behavior between friends. You guess you’re both just kind of scared to take the leap - you have been burned before, and so has he.

It’s not that you doubt your own feelings for Benny, or indeed his feelings for you. Even you have to admit that he does seem pretty interested in you, but you still wave away your friends’ squeals of “he’s totally in love with you!”, mainly not wanting to get your hopes up too much.

Because a small part of you still finds it a little hard to believe; someone so handsome and funny and kind wanting to be with you? What if he likes you, but just not as much as you like him? What if you were just a second choice for someone you really like until something better comes along - again? That scares you, both of you.

Tonight has been like many other nights lately; you had been to the movies with some of your friends, but after the movie ended you had been grasping at straws to come up with a way to continue the night so they (Benny) wouldn’t go home just yet. Benny had helpfully suggested just driving around and seeing if any ideas came to mind.

Santiago in turn had rolled his eyes at you two knowingly (making both you and Benny fluster and try to fake complete nonchalance) before saying good night and leaving with the others, who apparently didn’t feel the compulsive need to continue spending time together.

--------

The sun has gone down already but you two are still enjoying each other’s company too much to go home yet.

You end up in the 24/7 supermarket parking lot, craving a midnight snack. You are reminded of your teenage years, when you used to hang around different parking lots, popping into the store to buy a soda or a candy bar, spending all day outside with friends.

The only other customers doing their midnight shopping are tired people just off their shifts or young people staying up late just for the hell of it, much like you and Benny are, in fact. You wander around the huge store together, pointing out different products you’d like to try and reviewing stuff one of you already has tried.

Before long you realize that you have already spent almost forty minutes idly wandering around the supermarket, collecting new soda or chip flavors to test. Neither of you thought to grab a basket at the entrance, so your arms are starting to get a bit full.

“Benny, do you think this might be enough?” you ask while struggling to maintain your hold on the different bags of chips.

Benny looks back at you from where he is pondering over whether to get some ice cream. “Huh, I guess. I do still wanna get a sandwich, though!” he exclaims and promptly takes off in the direction of the deli counter where they sell sandwiches and salads left over from the day.

You try to keep up with his long strides, certain that you must look a bit comical half-running after a man with your hands full of treats. Oh, well. Benny often complains about how much focus it requires of him to “modify his steps” to fit your much shorter legs, and he always forgets about it when he gets excited.

When you catch up with him, he has already picked a sandwich for himself and one for you. “I got you salmon, that’s your favorite, right?”

“Yeah, thanks!” you say a little breathlessly after your speed-walk, taken that he remembers.

As you finally get to the cash register and start loading your stuff in your bag you see Benny sneak one more candy bar among the rest of your purchases. For someone in such good physical shape he sure does like his candy.

“Where to next?” Benny inquires as you get back to the car.

“Hmm, how about this one waterfront type swimming spot? It’s pretty secluded, has a pier, and there’s a nice view to the sea. I sometimes like to sit there on the cliffs to watch the sun go down,” you suggest, and offer him directions to the place.

It’s a short drive and you show Benny where to park his car. Even though it’s somewhere around 1 a.m. and the sun went down hours ago, the night is still light enough that you can easily see where you’re going and it doesn’t feel like you’re just sitting in the dark.

You settle down on the small pier with your sandwiches and sodas and chips and munch away happily.

Benny hands you the candy bar you saw him grab earlier at the cash register “for dessert”. It has a cheesy text on the packaging about giving this to someone special. He grins and shrugs, “I know you love these”.

It’s such a simple gesture but you can’t help feeling really flattered and even more smitten with him than you already were. You don’t read too much into the text on the packaging, but even the fact that he would buy you a candy bar he knows you love - just because - warms your heart.

(What you don’t know is that the candy bars have lots of different texts to choose from, and that Benny specifically picked “give this to someone special” instead of “give this to a friend”. There was also “give this to someone you love”, but Benny worried that might scare you off.)

--------

After you’re both done with snacking you try to think of what to do next, still reluctant to pronounce this night to be over, you get an idea.

“You know what I would really like to do right now?” you ask Benny, looking out over the water that looks so tempting. “Go swim,” you announce, turning to look at him.

“You don’t have a swimsuit with you, do you?” Benny asks, turning to look at you too.

“No… But there’s no one here,” you point out with your eyebrows raised in challenge.

Benny looks at you for a few beats with a blank expression on his face, before shrugging “Alright,” and throwing off his hoodie and t-shirt, jeans following next. “What are you waiting for?” he shouts over his shoulder as he jumps from the pier into the water.

You’re left sitting there with your mouth open, blinking rapidly as you try to catch up with the fast turn of events. Shaking your head, you stand up and shrug off your clothes before quickly running after Benny and getting into the refreshing water.

The night is still warm, and the water feels wonderful. You swim to catch up with Benny.

“You know, it’s pretty dark here but I’ve basically seen you naked now,” he remarks, waggling his eyebrows, and you snort with laughter.

“Benny, you’re not allowed to make me laugh in the water or I’ll drown,” you try to say sternly.

“Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t let you drown,” he answers in a surprisingly serious voice.

Suddenly the energy between you is full of.. something. Something new and buzzing, sort of scary but also exciting. Something you can’t quite explain. You’re swimming around each other, looking at each other intently, but not daring to say anything that would break the moment and burst the bubble.

Someone else does that for you.

A couple of teenage girls, you’d guess around 18 years old, stumble on to the pier and immediately notice you two in the water. The other girl lets out a shriek and tightens her hold on the towel around her, and before you can even try to reassure them that everything is fine, they run off giggling and shrieking some more. Evidently, they had had the same idea for a nighttime swim but found the place already occupied.

“Yeahhhh, maybe we should put some clothes on before someone calls the police,” Benny suggests dryly.

You two climb out of the water giggling and grinning broadly. You don’t have any towels with you since you didn’t exactly plan this impromptu skinny-dipping session, but Benny gives you his hoodie to help keep you warm.

Sitting back down next to Benny you’re even closer together now than earlier, ever so slowly inching closer and closer to each other. Both of you think you could pass it off as huddling for warmth if the other were to question it, but somehow you know that won’t be an issue.

Soon enough you’re snuggling together on the waterfront overlooking the sea. You stay quietly like that for some time, maybe fifteen minutes, maybe more. It’s hard to tell when the world is so still and quiet around you.

Suddenly you think that this is it, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. In all honesty you sort of enjoy the pining stage of new relationships, but right now you feel like you might burst if you keep these feelings inside you any longer.

You turn and burrow your head into the crook of his neck and decide that you will have to take the leap now. You start pressing gentle kisses on his neck and hear Benny’s breath hitch at the first contact of your lips on his skin. He goes still as a statue, but you can feel more than hear his unsteady breathing at your actions. You’re practically vibrating with nervous excitement as you work your way up to his jaw and towards his lips.

Taking one final deep breath you close your eyes, not daring to look at Benny in the eye right now, as you bring your lips to meet his.

The kiss is sweet and unhurried, and yet your head is swimming and your whole body is buzzing with it as you melt into each other. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, which just proves that everything really is different - better - with Benny. You pull away when you find yourself quickly out of breath just from feeling so much.

You finally dare to open your eyes to find Benny gazing at you with a dazed expression that surely mirrors your own and you slowly beam at each other, not feeling the need for words just now. Maybe you couldn’t even find them if you tried.

You settle back against his chest and the two of you stay like that for the rest of the night, sometimes spending long moments just kissing each other, sometimes talking quietly, sometimes just enjoying each other’s presence.

--------

Around five in the morning, when the sun is already getting up, you finally start to really feel the need for sleep. But this time it doesn’t feel wrong to leave and go home, since you’ll be going home together.

Later that day you wake up to a good morning, sweetheart in Benny’s arms where you fell asleep on his couch, tired but happier than you’ve ever felt in your life.

[kosmosguk]

Bloody Artistry (M) ~🥀

pairing: celeb! kim taehyung x journalist! reader; minor pairings: jungkook x reader, coworker jimin x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 8K

Summary: when the scrutiny of fame becomes too much, perfect kim taehyung finds his peace within a lavish bathroom located two blocks away from the nearest club, a corpse in the bed with him. the fans have never questioned his behavior, not when his company is much too good at cleaning up his mess to not have done it before, but when a reporter with too many questions threatens to break the peace he’s established, he finds himself in a tango with the devil that he can’t bring himself to want to break.

[Warnings: MURDER, death, literally Taehyung being a sick bastard 25/8 (but only in fiction), company corruption, violence, yandere themes, mentions of noncon smut (intoxication, mentions of being drugged, fingering), blackmail, obsession, stalking. EVERYTHING that happens in this fic is FICTION; plz don’t go busting nuts for serial killers]

A/N: Thank you to yoongissugarmommy for requesting this! Part 1 of a short series starring Taehyung. Was going to do smth similar to Lineage with him, but this has been staying in my drafts for too long (like i wrote most of this before I even wrote Lineage, which is why my writing for part of this is a bit different from my current one), and I feel like going a bit modern now to take a break from Lineage (taking a bit to write pt. 4 just because it’s the end of the main story). Thank you for 2.9k followers! We’re only less than 50 away from 3K which is so wild to think about; kisses and hugs to everyone who’s supported my work! 

“Today, in the studio, we have our nation’s golden boy, the first love of all of our viewers: Kim Taehyung. Everyone, please clap your hands for him!’’

The MC turned to grin at the audience as the audience cheered loudly; her glossy black hair swept down and framed her face delicately in perfect shiny strands. The lipstick that coated her unnaturally wide smile was a deep shade of red, stark against her pale white skin. Dressed in her primly pressed suit, she looked lovely, like a blooming rose, but as she turned to face the guest star, his presence seemed to easily outshine her own.

“Thank you for having me. It’s an honor to have an interview here and have an opportunity to see all of my lovely fans,’’ Taehyung’s deep voice rang out as he smiled in his heart-swooning way, flashing pure-white teeth handsomely in a carefully maintained and practiced way that made all the fans, both in the studio and watching from beyond a screen, unable to resist letting out shrieks and screams.

“Now, Taehyung-ssi, with a record-breaking album that topped the charts as soon as it came out and a modelling gig that sells out magazines faster than before, how does it feel to have really made it? It must stress you out. Any tips on how to relax?’’

Taehyung leaned back slightly in his seat, his smile flashing coy for a brief second before settling into a rehearsed contemplative expression. He shrugged his shoulders, letting them drop out, as he made a soft hmm noise.

“How I relax? It’s not that big of a deal, really, but that’s an interesting question to ask, noona,’’ Taehyung widened his eyes slightly, looking ever so much like the golden boy persona he had stickered upon his reputation,’’ When I’m really, really stressed, I like to play with Tannie, my dog, and eats lots of yummy food that my mom sends to me when I get stressed. Also, my manager Namjoon is a good person to talk to when I’m really stressed; he always knows what to do and say.’’ Taehyung tapped the tip of his nose lightly, scrunching his face in an expression that made fans coo in adoration. “I also like to think of my fans and read all the letters they’ve sent me. I saved all of my letters from my beloved fans since my debut, and I like looking through them.’’

“Hey, Kim Namjoon, fucking hurry up,” Taehyung hissed into the cellphone pressed against his flawless cheek,” My shoes are going to get stained at this point. You know blood is a pain to properly get out of letter.’’

“Were you at least careful this time? We don’t want rumors getting out,” Namjoon’s voice crackled over the receiver, barely a hint of emotion in his voice. The beeping and honking of cars on his side of the phone call signaled the rush his manager was making towards his location.

Taehyung huffed in agitation, clicking his tongue sharply in annoyance as he skimmed his nails for any trace of dried blood. “Oh, come on, you think I really even care at this point? With the way the company takes care of everything, you’d think perfect ol’ me was…well perfect. But still, aren’t you guys way too good at this job? 7 girls and not even a peek from the public. Who else do you do this for, huh? Suga-sunbae? J-hope-sunbae?”

There was no reply. Taehyung threw his gaze over to the practically mangled body. Too bad, he thought to himself, she was really pretty this time. Red lipstick, silky black hair, wanted to become better acquainted with such a famous celebrity after her little interview, the whole fanatic spiel tied with a pretty bow of the title of an mc. She would’ve never thought that she’d go from being a bed-warmer to being so cold.

“I must be right then, huh? Suga-sunbae I can see, but J-Hope-sunbae…’’ Taehyung whistled lowly under his breath. “I thought you’d at least deny that. It’s the bright ones you gotta watch out for.’’

A dial noise was the only response. Did…Did this bastard hang up on him? Taehyung grimaced before three knocks rang on the door of the hotel suite, a signal from his asshole manager that Namjoon had finally arrived. Taehyung rolled back his shoulders, his joints crackling a little, and made sure all of his jewelry was perfectly back in place before he opened the door.

As Namjoon shuffled in with some of the staff members, Taehyung clasped his silver watch around his wrist with a soft click. He rolled his neck, trying to get the stiffness out of it, and exposed purple marks and bruises from the bites the now dead girl had given him when they had been fucking earlier.

Finally, his headache was gone.

You chugged down a cup of stale coffee and wiped the dribble of liquid that escaped the corner of your mouth as you clicked off some article about a newbie mc receiving slander after rumors of her making moves on a popular idol was exposed and disappearing to avoid the backlash. Squinting at your screen with dry eyes, you pursed your lips and snapped the laptop shut, pushing the device away from you in an agitated huff.

“Wbat’s got you in the gutters, huh? Let me guess…,’’ Park Jimin, your desk mate, rolled his chair over to your side, his glasses askew on his nose,” Ah, your favorite celebrity go into a dating scandal? Let me think, who was it that recently go into a scandal… Oh, is it that pretty boy from a new idol group?’’

You gave him the stink-eye, and your sigh this time was even louder.

“You’d think there’d be something more…interesting going with these celebrities that we could get our hands on. Too much money, lots of stress, yet no story that’ll really seize the audience by surprise, and don’t you dare say a dating scandal would do it. Boss’s been on my case for the whole week on writing an article to shock the audience and wants me to release a major headliner story in two weeks, or that asshole’ll fire me. Damn it, Kim Seokjin!” you hissed out before slamming your forehead onto the desk.

“Man, be careful with your volume; if he hears your tone, he’ll chew you out for another hour that you could be using to research. Boss Kim is picky like that with everyone because our company’s a small piece of seaweed in a system dominated by crustaceous predators.” Jimin poked you in the side jokingly, his plush lips spread in a wide smile that lit up his exhausted face. “Just think really hard; use that big brain of yours and focus on a celebrity. Come on, no one’s perfect, even that one super famous idol Kim Taehyung must have some flaws, so don’t sweat it.”

“That golden boy? Man, the whole nation’s pussy-whipped for him. He couldn’t possibly be anything bu—,’’ you sharply inhaled before pushing your seat back and rapidly swiveling to face Jimin,’’ Park. Fucking. Jimin. Oh my God, you’re a fucking genius! A whole career with not even a speck of dirt… Come on, even pure-faced idol Soyeon was caught with a scandal last month. There must be something on the nation’s golden boy!’’

Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise with your sudden outburst, and he opened his mouth to speak. “Be careful about the way you go when you try to fish out info on him. His company’s security isn’t something easy to get through, and not a single celeb from that company has gotten into a single scandal. No reporters been able to get any dirt from them…”

“Which means that…there’s something sketchy happening. Jimin, Jimin, have I told you I’m in love with you?’’

You turned around quickly in your chair, spinning in glee. Jimin dropped his mouth open to sputter something, and his cheeks were tinging red, but you weren’t looking at or even listening to Jimin at hat point, having already cracked open your laptop to furiously type Kim Taehyung into Naver. This was it! Your big break! Your motivation sky-rocketed, and you felt the first rush of energy that wasn’t fueled by some caffeinated drink in a long while.

Two hours later, you were ready to throw up.

All of the results were sickeningly the same bullshit, as what was expected for someone as beloved by the nation as Kim Taehyung was. You couldn’t fathom the amount of fancams and magazine spreads of him posing on some brown leather sofa and fact pieces—hell, you even knew what kind of socks the man liked—that you had spent the past hours scrolling through.

Realizing that the office was nearly empty, and that the sky was dimming into a dark hue, you were about to shut down your laptop and call it a long fucking day when a tweet on someone’s SNS caught your eye.

@truth-teller: kim taehyung? nation’s golden boy? are you all really sure about that nonsense?

The tweet was spammed with angered replies, so many that the thread seemed to stretch on for at least a mile, but your interest was piqued. This was the first word of slander you had ever witnessed against Taehyung. You quickly pounded out a message to the account.

@name_01: hey, I saw your tweet about taehyung! Do you perhaps have any more information on him? I find him suspicious too.

You tapped send and waited with bated breath for a reply. Minutes crept by, and you were about to turn off your phone and head out of work when you noticed three dots pop up, dancing before disappearing.

@truth-teller: you fr? I had to suspend my acc because of all the spam I got. No one’s believed me on it, but I have proof

You chewed on your lip. What if this was a joke, and you were just wasting your time on some internet troll with too much time on their hands. It seemed like you were taking too long to reply because another message popped up.

@truth-teller: if you don’t believe me then that’s fine. I don’t have to waste my time

@name_01: WAIT! Sorry, it took me a second to comprehend this information… Please tell me more.

You were worried that the account wouldn’t reply anymore, and that you had ruined your opportunity before the three dots popped up again and another message was sent.

@truth-teller: ok, if you want to find out more let’s move to a better messaging platform, just in case my acc gets suspended by more fans. here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxxx

It was a gamble to send some stranger on the internet your number, but at this point, you were too desperate to really give a damn. There was a story just out of the reach of your fingertips; you would be a fool to deny the carrot on a stick you were being provided.

@name-01: okay, I’ll message you.

Name: hey! Truth-teller right? This is me from the messages

JK: yeah that’s me. I prefer JK when I’m not on sns tho

Name: I’m (y/n). I don’t mean to sound like I’m hurrying you, but I want to hear what you have to say about Taehyung.

JK: lol r u a reporter or smth? Real bossy of you keke

You sucked in a breath. Should you reveal that?

Name: haha would it be bad if I said I was?

There was no response for the next 15 minutes. Exhaling a long sigh, you decided that you should at least maneuver your way home; the office had been cleared out completely during your conversation with this JK, and you couldn’t help the creeps that the emptiness gave you. If anything, the walk back to your place would give you some outlet for the nervous energy radiating throughout you. You were nearly at the door of your apartment when your phone vibrated in your pocket, signaling a message.

JK: just checking. Makes sense that you’re one though. It’d be nice if you could break this story out, but I hope you trust me enough after I tell you what I know

You clicked the door shut behind you, your eyebrows creased as you stared at your phone screen.

Name: don’t worry. I trust you!

You dropped your bag down onto the sofa before throwing your body onto the seat. The three dots under JK’s name popped up for several minutes before disappearing. In the place of the three dots, a long message had been typed out.

JK: I didn’t really think much of taehyung when I first heard about him since he’s the nation’s golden boy or whatever bs title they call him nowadays, but my sister’s friend was a big fan of him. she went out with my sister and they met him in some shady club in gangnam. my sister’s friend got to talk to him exclusively and my sister got separated from her and got a text from her friend saying that she had smth come up and she already went home. she tried to contact her friend the day after, but she got a text back saying that her friend wasn’t feeling well. my sister’s friend was “best friends’’ with her but she didn’t contact my sister again until a week later saying she got a job opportunity overseas and already was about to board on the plane because it was important she got there fast. my sister’s friend didn’t contact her again like she dropped off the face of the earth

You pursed your lips in contemplation as you tapped out a message back, your nails clicking against the screen.

Name: ?? Are you sure that isn’t a coincidence?

JK: yeah, I thought so too but it was rly sus that my sister’s friend who had known my sister for 12 years to suddenly go overseas for a job opportunity without telling her at all. and when my sister tried to get new contact info from her friend there was no reply. but I got curious and since I do some computer work for my job i wanted to see if I could track the ip address of her phone but there was nothing. her last previous ip was all the way back in gangnam and my sister’s friend lived in incheon. that was a red flag so I decided to go talk to the landlord at my sister’s friend’s old apartment and the landlord said he didn’t see her come back since before that night but woke up to a fully paid lease and the apartment cleared out 

You squinted your eyes at the screen, unable to properly process the information that this so-called JK had just given you. Chewing on your lip, you closed your eyes briefly before opening them back up and typing back a message.

Name: anything else? Sorry…just seems a bit far-fetched.

JK: think whatever then. I have to go to work now

Right when JK’s message popped up, another message pinged on your cell. You refused to let yourself ponder more on JK’s last message as you clicked on your friend’s text notification.

Platonic LOML <3: BAE, R U FREE TONIGHT? I’m lonely n want someone to come with me to this club— ik you’re not into clubs but pretty please

You were about to reply with a refusal when JK’s words came up to your mind again. You didn’t know why, but there was a sharp feeling in your gut that told you that you couldn’t miss this opportunity Call it silly intuition or some coincidental fabrication spurned by your mind, but that feeling persisted until you typed out a reply to your friend.

Name: okay fine. Come over in 30.

Taehyung swirled the liquid in his glass, watching the deep burgundy of the wine stain the glass a soft pink. His head was hurting again, and the new medication he had been taking for them on advice of the company didn’t work.

He scanned the dim, musty club, watching the pulsating lights cloak the dancing bodies in sallow shades of pale yellow. This club was a downgrade from his previous celebrity-exclusive club that he had gone to the previous week, but his manager had told him that if he really wanted peace, he should choose an area where no one would really know him.

Taehyung knew the real reason why his manager had insisted on this. Deaths of other celebrities were much harder to cover up after all.

Pity he actually followed his manager’s advice for once. The wine in here, despite the bougie price tag, was complete shit and provided him a slight buzz at best. And there was no one who really caught his eye out of the crowd of people. As he was about to get up from his seat and leave the club for somewhere with better—he contemplated going back to that celebrity club just to fuck with his company—pickings, he caught sight of someone entering the club.

You looked absolutely gorgeous, swathed in a black shift that you kept fighting to keep over your ass—and god, was it a plump ass too, the kind that made Taehyung’s cock hard in his tight black pants—with hair framing your face in a breathtaking way that showed glimpses of sparkling jewelry. Your friend, some chick with dyed green hair that Taehyung didn’t bother paying attention to, was clinging onto your arm, dragging you near the dance floor.

Taehyung knew.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you.

His head seemed to clear from the mind-numbing throb it always had when he spent too much time without another victim to take his aggression out of. Feeling the cool metal of the blade he always had tucked near his body, Taehyung sat back down in his seat, a playful smile perking at the edges of his lips. Funny enough, the blood thirst that never seemed to properly leave him was gone from his mind, an occurrence that was as rare as the pills the company liked shoving down his throat actually working for once.

You maneuvered your way over to the bar, to him, your friend pouting as she noticed you leaving before melting away into the crowd of grinding bodies. Taehyung swore then and there that the attraction between you and him was absolutely magnetic, with the way you seemed to pull the other towards one another.

He watched as you ordered some pretty-colored martini, adorably scrunching your face as the burn of alcohol coated your tongue and hit the back of your throat with a singe.

Maybe, Taehyung though to himself as he propped his chin lazily on his palm, he should really start listening to his manager more often.

Your mind was in a haze, and you didn’t even notice the man next to you until he was nearly pressed to your side, barely leaving a gap of space between the two of you.

You glanced at him, your tipsy mind suddenly sobering up as you realized who the man sitting next to you was. Kim Taehyung? What the fuck was he doing here?

“Another drink for a pretty lady?” Taehyung’s teeth showed as he charmingly flashed an award-winning coquettish smile at you, his already extremely handsome features seeming to increase in beauty from the grin.

You remembered JK’s words and a chill ran up your spine. God, his messages didn’t seem so implausible now, did they? Goosebumps rose up on your skin, freezing you to the bar table. Were…Were you his next victim?

You swallowed dryly as you tried to calm your racing heartbeat. The side of you that was a reckless journalist wanted to take a nosedive at the headliner just out of reach, but the rational side of you knew that leap of faith had a much bigger chance of you ending up disappearing off for a new job opportunity overseas, as Taehyung’s company would have it. You couldn’t write a good story if you were dead, after all.

“Thank you, but I can pay for my own drinks,’’ your lips twitched slightly as you forced them into a hopefully convincing gentle smile, refusing his offer softly before moving your body casually a few inches away from him,” Having drinks bought by strangers isn’t really my thing.”

Your smile must’ve looked a hell of a lot less nervous than you actually felt and a lot more convincing too because Taehyung’s shoulders, which had previously been winded like he was a predator getting ready to pounce on prey, seemed to relax at your words.

There was a dark gleam in his eyes when he again invaded your personal space and pushed his body near yours. He leaned in and whispered softly into your ears, his voice clear despite the early 2010s hits blaring from the speakers by the dance floor.

“If you’re scared of strangers, why don’t we get to know each other a bit?’’

Your fake smile grew stiff on your face. You felt like you were going to hurl the convenience store meal of ramen that you had scarfed before coming to the club all over the bar and Taehyung’s expensive luxury bran clothes. You could feel a sense of dread in your bones, the kind a prey animal would feel as a predator focused its carnivorous attention on them.

You forced a fake laugh, trying to drive the message that you were just not interested to Taehyung as loud and clear as you could manage.

“No thanks; I have enough people I’m close to. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ve left my friend alone for far too long on the dance floor.”

You pushed yourself off the bar table, flashing a strained polite smile before you headed over the dance floor, trying to keep your pace slow and steady instead of breaking out into the outright run you wanted to do.

Taehyung inhaled the linger scent of your perfume, a natural smell that sweetly layered itself over the damp musky air of the club. His eyes, even as you tried to focus on the pounding music and forget the fear embedded deeply in your gut, never seemed to leave your form. Even when you burrowed yourself deeply into the crowd away from his view, you could still feel it.

You found yourself painfully sober after that encounter, trying to look normal in front of your friend for the rest of the night that seemed to painstakingly drag on for eternity. Even when you had the short 2-minute walk from the cab you took to your front door, you didn’t stop looking over your shoulder, still feeling the chill that came with the thought of Taehyung’s gaze. When you got inside your home, the bubbling nausea in your stomach took control over you, and you ended up heaving your dinner down the toilet.

When you managed to somewhat pull yourself together, you typed out a quick message with practically shaking fingers to the only one you could think of in that moment would understand what you were feeling, You stared at your unsent message before hastily pressing send.Name: I didn’t know who to talk to, but I saw Taehyung at the club today. I think you’re right about what you said about Taehyung.

Name: I didn’t know who to talk to, but I saw Taehyung at the club today. I think you’re right about what you said about Taehyung.

Ping!

You barely managed to fall asleep that night, and your eyes painfully ached when you peeled your eyelids open, hurriedly grabbing your phone and turning it on to check your messages.

JK: what happened? Sry for late response. Job keeps me busy all night

Your fingers flew over the keyboard as you typed out your message, furrowing your eyebrows in concentration as you tried to relay the events of your night in hopefully comprehensible words.

Name: I went with my friend to some sketchy club idk what area at this point but I went to the bar and I felt someone come up to me ?? I turned and realized it was Taehyung, and he offered to buy me a drink but I declined. Makes me sick how I could’ve been his next victim, so I tried to leave and go back to where there was more ppl in the club, But I can’t stop thinking about the look in his eyes. There was something sickening in them, I couldn’t put my finger on it.

JK didn’t respond for a bit, and you exhaled a trembling breath when his message popped up.

JK: be careful. Im glad you managed to get away

Name: I’m scared. I didn’t know what to do, but hopefully I’ll never see him again once I get this scoop out.

JK: stay safe. Thx for telling me. Text me if anything else happens.

You let out a shaky breath before clicking your phone off, your nerves still rattled but slightly more calmed down after talking with JK. You had to get ready for work, but at this rate, you weren’t even sure how you would be able to get through the day. Maybe you should take a sick day? No, you couldn’t.

The elevator dinged closed behind you as you stepped out of it into the office. As you were about to take a seat at your desk, your boss rushed out of his office, relief, something he never showed to you, evident on his expression once he caught sight of you.

“(Y/n)! Come into my office; I have an important job for you,’’ your boss ushered you into his office without another word, practically pushing a baffled you into the room frantically,” You know the company that manages Kim Taehyung? They reached out and agreed to an exclusive one-on-one interview with Kim Taehyung only, and only, if you agreed to the interview.”

You stiffened, your body frozen as you tried to process the words your boss had just spoken. Your brain seemed to be running a marathon as you computed the words your boss said, and you could only meekly respond with a limp,” Why me? Can’t somebody…Can’t someone else take over? Boss…you know I’m not that experienced.”

Boss Kim barely paid any attention to your words as he rested a hand on your shoulder with a confident look on his face.

“Then, use this opportunity to get more experience. You want to show the world that you’re a journalist by getting a scoop? Then take this interview! You know the company never agrees to exclusive one-on-one interviews unless they’re all staged, but there wasn’t even talk of this being staged at all. If you can use this opportunity and get something big, won’t this be your biggest step towards a great journalist career?’’ your boss exclaimed,’’ If you back out, another chance like this won’t come again!”

As much of an asshole Boss Kim was sometimes, you could find the logic in his words. Besides, it must be a coincidence that Kim Taehyung wanted you specifically to give him an interview; maybe he wanted a newbie, so they wouldn’t have much experience trying to fish out personal details and twist his words.

That’s right. There was no way he even remembered what you looked like. You guys interacted for, what, a solid 2 minutes last night. And if you did this interview right, you could use it as a building block as evidence for the headliner you intended to release with what JK had told you.

You exhaled, nodding your head firmly.

“I will. I’ll take this interview.”

Boss Kim’s face brightened, making him look much more like the stereotypical handsome CEO character found in dramas. Since he always looked exhausted and stressed out, he always seemed more intimidating, an aura that seemed to scare off any thoughts about how gorgeous he actually was. You had to admit: your heart did flutter a bit at his face.

“Excellent! He’s waiting in the meeting room right now! You only need, what, six hours to prepare, right?”

Fuck, you take back that heart flutter. Boss Kim was an asshole.

“S-Sir,’’ you sputtered,” I can’t…’’

Before you even finished your words, Boss Kim was already ushering you back out of the office.

“I believe in you! You got this!”

He closed the door behind you. You swallowed back the mouthful of swears you wanted to spew before scrambling towards your desk.

You weren’t prepared, but you knew you would do anything for a scoop.

Exactly 6 hours and seventeen seconds later, you were primly seated in front of Kim Taehyung.

The seats were annoyingly too close, and you cursed Boss Kim in your heart, knowing that the reason why the chairs were placed in such an unprofessional manner was because Boss Kim wanted to create the perfect intimate setting for no cost. If you tried to extend your legs, you’d end up smacking them straight into Taehyung’s legs.  

You, although disgruntled, had to admit that there was a reason why so many major brands wanted him as their model. He was handsome under the shitty lighting of the musty club last night, but here, with his hair and makeup carefully done despite the fluorescent lighting of the room, he was every synonym of the word beautiful combined into one person.

Blond strands of his hair brushed his chiseled features, and his eyes, curved attractively and framed with delicate long wisps of eyelashes, was intensely focused on your face. He looked ever like a marble statue, carved with attention and detail to be the most perfect specimen artistry could ever create. But he wasn’t perfect; that was what you knew. And that would also be what would you get just one step ahead of him.

You swept a piece of hair and tucked it behind an ear as you scanned your hastily scribbled notes. His eyes clung to that movement, as if he was mesmerized by your every action, and you peeked a look through your lashes. Your eyes met, and you forced a stiff smile.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you rolled your shoulders back into a proper posture, gingerly extending a hand out for him to take,” Good morning. It’s an honor to be able to do an interview with you.”

The edges of his lips tilted upward, and there was a playful glint in his eyes as his previous fiercely predatory state melted into the façade he put up in front of the public. He reached out and took your hand, throwing you off guard as he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“Likewise, it’s an honor to have an interview with you, (Y/n).’’

Yuck, you were going to have to wash your hands later. Anyways, what kind of person even kissed the back of people’s hands nowadays? This was the 21st century for fuck’s sake. You somehow kept your grimace to yourself.

You nervously laughed as you practically yanked your hand back out of his grasp. You casually wiped the back of your hand on the fabric of your skirt, disguising the movement as simply brushing off dust. Taehyung’s eyes didn’t leave any of your movements, and he laughed a little as he realized just what you were doing.

Oh, you were so interesting. You weren’t like the rest of them, the fans that threw themselves at him adoringly; hell, he was sure you weren’t even a fan. He was entranced. When he was close to you, the headaches seemed to fade; he didn’t want to drown himself in another body when he was with you. He didn’t want to kill when he was with you.

You ignored his burning gaze, breezing through the beginning parts of the interview. Finally, you reached the part that you had been anxiously preparing for.

“So, I heard that you’re trying out a new actor role. As a model and an artist and now an actor, we have to admit that your talents are incredibly versatile, Kim Taehyung-ssi.’’ You continued speaking. “Could you tell us a little more about this role?’’

“You flatter me too much, (Y/n).’’ He purposefully had left any formalities to the wind in this interview, a move that made you want to grind your teeth. “Yes, I was offered one of the leading roles in a new thriller movie. I’ll be acting as one of the charismatic but complex characters. I hope to show you and all of my fans a new side to Kim Taehyung.”

“Ah, a new side,’’ you nodded lightly,” Your new role as a charismatic serial killer who targets his admirers is certainly what many would call…complex. How do you go about preparing for such a twisted role?”

“Hmm…,’’ Taehyung’s lips curled up menacingly for a brief moment before fading away into a breezy smile,’’ It’s quite difficult to immerse myself into a role in which I have limited experience in, so I like to read through the script and make a map of what the character is like. What motivates him; what makes him so…complex, as you called it. I pretend to be like the character. How do I make myself think like him? That’s the question I like to try to find an answer to.”

“Ah, this is simply my personal opinion, but to truly play the character requires some true life experience…Is it possible that you’ve ever done anything similar to what the character has done in real life?”

A pin seemed to drop in that very moment from the silence that crowded the room. Everyone in the room froze and stared at you, their glances less than pleasant. You bore it all as you stared intently into his eyes. Slip up, you prayed, do something that will make you slip up. There was not even a brief soft sound in the 10 seconds that it took for Taehyung to respond.

He was rigid, the smile plastered on his face barely fading. Come on, you begged, expose yourself just a bit.

“Your response is lagging for just a bit, Kim Taehyung-ssi. It makes you seem guilty just a bit, doesn’t it?’’

He snapped out of it right then and there.

“I was simply contemplating my response. Your impatience is something not so befitting of a formal interview. To answer your question, isn’t a role just a role at the end of the day? If you think about it, I’m not the only person to have played a role like this. Many actors and actresses have done so without any thought of relating it to their real life. After all, a role is simply an imaginary self.”

You both stared into each other’s eyes, and you felt the gazes of other people around you burn into you.

You settled on a retreat. It was fine; this interview was just the first building block. You laughed lightly, throwing off the previous tense silence easily.

“Of course! We wouldn’t expect nothing but, right? We hope to see your talent truly shine through in this new role!’’

The tenseness in the room seemed to slip away right then, and the deathly gazes on you flitted away, like they were never there in the first place.

You let out a sigh as you left the interview room. God, that was terrifying, but you knew that you had to do what you had just previously done. What you had just done asserted the theory that you had. His company was hiding something about him, and that something was nothing less than downright horrific.

JK, you thought to yourself, I’m going to expose this story, just you wait.

“You weren’t just going to leave, huh?’’

You heard a familiar voice speak behind you, and you quickly spun around.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you forced out of your throat,’’ I believed you had already left.”

“I was going to, but I wanted to speak to you about the interview. The company rarely lets me do interviews, so it was really refreshing to have one done with you. We worked so well together, and I would like to thank you for the pleasant experience you had given me with dinner. You must be starving, right?’’

You had been starving earlier, but one word from Taehyung left your stomach churning in nausea.

“No!’’ your voice was a bit too loud, so you hastily softened it,’’ No, that’s not necessary. You don’t need to thank me.”

Taehyung took steps closer to you, and you unconsciously took a step back. Noticing your movements, he looked at you and flashed a grin that might’ve looked harmless to others but outright menacing to you.

“Are you scared of me?’’ his voice was almost like a purr. You fought back a shiver, straightening your back and looking him straight in the eyes.

“No,’’ you stabilized your voice, keeping a waver out of it,” Why would I be scared of you? You’re not some higher being than me just because you’re a celebrity. You’re human, after all. But, as you can see, I have work to do, so I will have to politely decline your offer.”

“You can have the rest of the day off.”

You spun around on your heels, your gaze colliding with Boss Kim’s. When did he arrive?

“Sir! Boss! No, if I skipped out on work, I’d be a burden to everyone. Besides, I—,’’ your voice was cut off by another voice.

“It’d be good to establish a positive relationship between your company and ours. Your boss would usually be the one to go to a dinner, but I believe he already has plans. Any work you were unable to fulfill today will be taken care of.”

The voice seemed to chill you to the bone. You turned to make eyes with a man. Was he…Taehyung’s manager? Although he was handsome, the kind of handsome that was comparable with Taehyung’s, something about him churned your stomach. While Taehyung was like a predator waiting to pounce on his prey, the man behind this voice was already sinking his teeth into the neck, wringing out the… You snapped out of your thoughts.

Snap out of it, you mentally scolded yourself.  

“How about it?’’ Taehyung’s manager coldly smiled, his tone like glaciers.

You opened your mouth to try to refute, but with the burning gaze from your boss, you could only dip your head in a bow, your voice low.

“Thank you for the offer. I accept.”

They couldn’t kill you, right? It’d be too obvious.

You followed them out, and when you passed by Boss Kim, you made a panicked glance at him. What greeted you made you halt briefly in your pace.

When Boss Kim made eye contact with you, he patted your shoulder in what should’ve been reassurance. His lips spread out in a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t disappoint me, hmm?’’

His words, spoken low and steady, left a chill in your veins as you kept walking, and the sliding doors of the elevator dinged close behind you, effectively trapping you with Taehyung and his manager.

You somehow made it out of the elevator and through the tense car ride alive. Now, you were seated next to Taehyung himself in the private room of a restaurant. Smoke rose from the grill, briefly obscuring your view of his manager from across you.

You tried to think positively of the situation. If Taehyung was drunk, maybe he’d slip up, but…you made a furtive glance at his manager from across the grill, slightly jolting when your eyes collided with his own. The fear that nearly overcame you made you nauseous.

“A drink?”

Taehyung’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned to see him already raising his glass. You stiffly smiled, barely managing to keep the nervous twitch out of the curves of your lips.

“I don’t drink.”

“It’s impolite to decline a friendly offer. Come on, a toast to a wonderful…partnership.” Taehyung chuckled, raising his glass, as he leaned his chin onto the propped palm of his hand,” And we wouldn’t want a bad start to it.”

You were panicking by now, but you could imagine what Boss Kim would say if Taehyung’s company pulled out because of something so miniscule. You couldn’t afford to lose your job, not with the way you had fought tooth and nail to get your position; you wouldn’t last a month without your job or the meager protection it gave you.

You made your decision, a decision you would’ve done anything else but avoid, and tilted the glass up, clinking it against Taehyung’s glass. Turning away, you made it look like you were lightly sipping the drink, but you only allowed the liquid to slightly wet your lips. You set down the still-full glass and smiled pleasantly.

“I can only drink this much. Anymore, and I would experience terrible side effects.”

Taehyung didn’t seem even irked by your feeble attempt at pretending; instead, his eyes filled with amusement. He didn’t stop staring at you, and the threatening vibe of it caused you to unconsciously delve into your habit of gripping your glass of water and drinking it in an attempt to calm your nerves.

You placed the empty glass back down before resuming anxiously picking at your food. A pair of chopsticks—specifically Taehyung’s chopsticks—placed a piece of barbecued meat on your bowl of rice.

“Not feeling hungry? You need to eat. Skipping meals is bad for your health,’’ Taehyung beamed as he watched you carefully pick up the piece of meat and eat it. It would’ve been delicious any other time, but the churning in your gut made it taste like sand in your mouth. You dryly swallowed it.

“I’m heading to the restroom.”

You heard Taehyung’s manager speak in his flat tone, and you threw a skittish glance at him as he stood up and walked out of the private room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

“Ah, now that that nuisance is out of the way, why don’t we talk more?’’ Taehyung’s tone was playful, and you flinched as he leaned closer to you, his breath brushing against the outer shell of your ear.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you gritted the name through your teeth,” Please respect my personal space.”

He laughed lowly before he dropped a hand on your thigh. You were about to make a move to push him away, but your body suddenly felt tired, like you weren’t quite in control anymore.

“Come on, do what I say, and your little news company will do so much better. Your boss didn’t tell you this, but your company’s going bankrupt. One peep from me, and your company will rise in ranking, but I can only do that if I’m in a…happy mood.”

Taehyung pressed even closer to you, his nose against the curve of your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply in. His hands moved from his side and he ripped open the buttons of your shirt, groping your bra-covered tits. You let out an incoherent mumble in response, trying to flimsily kick at him.

Where was the waiter? Why was his manager taking so long? They planned this!

Disgust and heat coiled in your gut, but you were too dizzy to move. Something…that bastard…Did he spike your water? You were too careless, fuck. Taehyung moved one hand to tilt your chin up before his lips met yours. Despite how sloppy of a kiss it was, you could tell he was experienced, practically tasting every inner crevice of your soft mouth with his tongue, and you should’ve continued to be revolted, but whatever pill in your system had you melting into his mouth.

Taehyung seemed to sense the turmoil and conflict in you and the soft give of your will, and that seemed to make him even braver. He slid a hand up your skirt, his touch hot even through the fabric of your stockings, and you let out a startled moan against his lips, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth. He pulled back, and you could barely see through the teary haze of your eyes. It had been too long since the last time you had a good fuck. You just wanted to be touched…wanted to be fucked so hard his cock would press against your womb.  

“I just want to see you let go a bit, baby,’’ there was the triumph of domination in his voice. The sober part of you wanted to rebel, wanted to push and scream and kick him away, but you weren’t sober, weren’t clear-minded. Your legs spread as if begging for more of his touch.

He ripped his fingers through your stocking, and the material easily gave way underneath his strength. You could feel the damp spot on your panties, growing as he rubbed his fingertips against your drooling pussy. You shivered slightly in delirious pleasure as his finger rolled over your throbbing clit.  

“Mmph!’’ you let out a sound as he pushed your soaked panties to the side and pushed his fingers deep into your pussy. You couldn’t object, not when your pussy was stretching with a spine-tingling ache around his fingers, and especially not when he begin to set a teasing pace. He pushed his fingers in, and you shut your eyes in shame as your moans grew louder.

Your toes curled as his movements grew faster, reaching deep into you, and you were so, so close. Oh my god you could feel…and you were cumming hard. Your walls shivered and twitched around his still moving fingers, and you murmured a dazed plea as he finally stilled and pulled his fingers out. You, still twitching from how hard you came earlier, were ashamed to see the way his fingers glistened with the remnants of your arousal and orgasm.

The sound of his pants being unclasped drew you out of your drugged state. No, he wasn’t going to…Come on, snap out of it, snap out of it.

He drew back closer again, and you sucked in a breath, trying to push through your daze. He leaned in. You managed to bring your arms up to the table, grabbing the nearest object that you could reach. Your trembling fingers closed around your nearly empty water glass, and you took it, raising it and smashing it as hard as you could over his head. Water, ice cubes, and glass shards struck as the glass broke. Taehyung, not expecting the blow, had a temporary moment of weakness, and you managed to push him off you.

You shoved yourself up onto shaky legs, wrapping the ripped blouse around your weakened body, and forced yourself into a run outside of the room. The hallway of the restaurant around the private rooms was empty, devoid of any person. You frantically looked over your shoulder, relieved that you didn’t see him coming after you. This was a public place, though it was late at night, and you knew Taehyung wouldn’t risk his perfect reputation. But still, you remembered his manager was still out there.

You couldn’t let them kill you…You had to survive! You broke into a blind run, ignoring the strange looks and the calls you got from the restaurant’s staff as you pushed out of the restaurant into the street. You kept running despite the dizziness of your mind, and you could barely see what was in front of you before…You crashed into someone, slamming into their body so hard that you were sent sprawling to the ground.

“Please…,’’ you choked out, your voice strangled, crying out a desperate plea as you grabbed onto their clothes,’’ Please help me.”

Your mind was dizzy, splotches of colors splattering your blurry vision. Your body had overexerted yourself, and you prayed that you wouldn’t end up a dead body on the news as your grip around the clothes went lip, and you collapsed into the road. Through the buzzing of your ears, you could hear a startled voice call out, feel a firm touch grab your shoulders and try to shake you awake. Some strange hope rose in you; maybe…maybe…?

You murmured desperately one last mumble, your words barely making sense, as you spiraled into unconsciousness.  

“JK…please help me.”

A/N: if you want to be added to the taglist for the next part, reply with a  ❤️. If you enjoyed the story, please leave a comment or a detailed review below <3

Next work will be a fic for Jungkook’s upcoming birthday. Poll will be released soon for what kind of plot it should have! 

[master-sass-blast]

Children of the Gods: Part Three, Chapter One.

AT LONG LAST, THE PLOT FICS ARE BACK, BAY-BEE!!! AND B O Y ARE WE KICKING OFF WITH A DOOZY!!!

As you can see by the title: this is chapter one of three for this fic; I had to chop it up due to length.

Also, this fic as a whole makes for my 100th part of the CHC! I feel like I should do something to celebrate. Let me know if y’all have any suggestions.

Summary: It's been months since anyone's seen or heard of Allison Ricci. At last, you think the storm might be over. 

And then Karen Page gets kidnapped again.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, and Frank Castle x Karen Page.

Rating: M for kidnapping, attempted murder, attempted suicide, canon-typical violence, gun violence, and depictions of injury. Like I said, we’re kicking off with a doozy.

Word Count: 4.9k.

Set after “Children of the Gods: Part Two.”

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @leo-writer, @emma-frxst, @sadstone-s

There’s no mention or sighting of Allison for nearly six months. Every trail you had for her before goes stone cold. The apartment is cleared out and abandoned. She doesn’t show up in the fighting rings, and even Karen and Frank don’t report anyone following them.

You start to wonder if she died for good this time. That maybe she revived and got herself and her mentor out, but didn’t survive after that.

(You wonder who’ll bury her body, if she’ll be lain to rest next to her family or in a random patch of ground somewhere.)

The storm seems to be over.

And then Karen gets kidnapped again.

***

Wade and Nathan are the ones that technically call it in –by showing up on your doorstep with Frank in tow.

“Allison’s back,” Nate says when your eyes bug out of your head. “Figured Xavier would want to have his people try and round her up, rather than there being an issue with mutant control.”

You blink rapidly, then nod. “Uh… yeah. Let me call Piotr.”

***

The perks of being on a technically-special-law-enforcement team with fancy jets: you can get to the scene a hell of a lot faster than conventional authorities.

You, Wade, Nathan, Frank, and Piotr meet up with Illyana, Mikhail (the two Rasputin siblings are there to “assist” with Allison’s specific powers, considering how things went last time), and Neena in the mall parking lot. After a brief rundown of the plan –get the civilians and Karen out of harm’s way, then detain Allison before the actual cops show up—you all split up and head in through the four major entry points.

The mall is packed when you walk in –go figure, it’s a weekend. Shoppers stroll from shop to shop, vendors at the pop up stands call out to passersby, music plays on the overhead speakers.

“The picture the kid sent me had a pretzel stand in the background,” Frank growls through the speaker in your earpiece.

“Food court, then,” Neena replies –in perfect, crystal clear audio, no less. “The kiosk map doesn’t show too many food stands outside there.”

Illyana tugs on your sleeve and directs you to the left. “We are close.”

You dodge to avoid a cluster of shoppers. “There’s a lot of people here. If she –if she has… weapons, like last time—”

“We’ll deal with it,” Nathan growls over the comms system before softly reprimanding Wade for trying to detour into Hot Topic. “Our goal right now is to capture Allison before she escapes again.”

“Civilian lives still matter,” Piotr insists before putting a hand on the small of your back to usher you around a “Wet Floor: Caution” sign. He’s armored down, but he’s wearing his X-Men suit under a black sweatshirt. “We must consider their well-being.”

“And if we tell them they’re in danger, we’ll make a panicked stampede, and that won’t help us or anyone else,” Nate says tersely. “Just stay calm. Our best bet is to try and talk Allison down without alerting anyone around us.”

“If she tries to hurt Karen—" Frank grits out.

“We’ll cross that bridge if and when we get there,” Nathan declares, tone permitting no room for argument.

The lot of you round another corner, passing by a shop that boasts having “all the latest console games at all the best prices” and a Victoria’s Secret—

“I see her,” Neena says. You hear thuds her footsteps pick up, and a second later you see her jog around a Starbucks stand and head down the hall to the food court. “Twelve o’clock, dead center of the court.”

Twenty meters away, sitting at a little food court table, are Allison and Karen; the former is dressed in all black, leaning back in her seat while staring down the latter –who, all things considered, doesn’t seem too much worse for wear.

Frank inhales sharply, then appears through the crowd a few minutes later, walking so fast he’s practically running. “Too many people here.”

“We’ll talk her down,” Nathan says, rounding the corner nearest the Macy’s with Wade.

Illyana tenses, then grabs your arm before breaking into a run. “We need to move. She has seen Castle.”

Sure enough, Allison’s scowling. She shoves her chair back hard enough to knock it into the table behind her; she stands, ignoring the complaints from the nearby diners. Her eyes start glowing blue as she glares at Frank.

“Ah, shitfarts,” Wade grumbles.

“Everyone down!” Nathan bellows before yanking Frank back and erecting a telekinetic shield.

A massive shockwave of blue energy erupts across the food court, sending shoppers and tables alike flying into the air. The glass, domed skylight over the food court shatters, raining shards of windows and broken lights down on the panicked, shrieking bystanders.

Illyana erects a shield before the shockwave can hit the rest of you. She grits her teeth as debris and a few of the shoppers closest to the epicenter bounce off it, tumbling along the tiled floor. “Still think we will ‘talk her down?’”

No, you think, gulping when you realize that some of the blast victims aren’t getting up. I think we’re well past that.

“Karen!” Frank charges towards Allison, shotgun –loaded with bean bag rounds—in hand. “Get down!”

Karen dives behind a toppled table.

Illyana charges at Allison, clothes shimmering as they morph into black body armor. She leaps over an overturned table, then extends her hand and fires a blue bolt of magical energy at the younger girl.

Allison ducks. She stumbles briefly, but quickly rights herself. She grits her teeth, then screams as she unleashes a volley of azure-colored energy blasts at Illyana.

“Go! Get out!” Piotr waves a few stragglers –with their phones out to film the ruckus, go figure—away. He ducks another round of fire from Allison, then armors up and strides towards her. “That is enough—” 

Allison whips her head to the side, then back at Illyana. She quickly fires a blast at Illyana –successfully knocking the older girl off her feet, then turns and unleashes a beam of blue energy square into your husband’s chest.

Piotr sails into the food court’s Subway stand with a groan and a resounding clang.

You cram down the urge to run after your husband –he’ll be fine, he’s taken a lot worse before—and focus on the fight at hand.

Nate, Wade, and Frank are pinned down; they’re using some trash can stands as cover, but Allison’s got enough firepower to keep them from risking getting any closer.

Piotr and Illyana are both down for the time being; your husband’s tangled up with the condiments trays, while the youngest Rasputin’s on the floor, groaning.

Neena’s working the perimeter, getting shoppers out while setting up to flank Allison from behind.

And Mikhail’s… disappeared—

No, there he is, you think when you see him blink into existence. You let out a short sigh of relief when you see him take Karen’s hand and teleport to a safer distance, then do a short run before launching yourself in the air. Alright, let’s get the boys some cover.

Allison’s head jerks back as she follows your trajectory. Her eyes glow, bits of blue smoke wafting off at the corners, and then she fires another bolt of energy at you from her eyes.

You flit out of the line of fire, then fling an arc of wind at her.

Allison topples onto the tile floor. She yelps, then disappears into the ground to avoid being ensnared in one of Illyana’s spells. She pops back up a few feet away moments later—

Just in time to see Wade duck behind an overturned table.

Your brother snarls, cursing and panicking when Allison renders the table to a pile of ash with a flick of her wrist. “Something tells me that murder baby’s leveled up!”

“Gee!” You holler back. “What was your first hint!”

“Go!” Nathan hollers when Allison uses a bolt of magical energy strong enough to rip through several store fronts. He waves Karen and Frank off. “Get out of here! We’ve got this!”

Allison whirls. She bares her teeth when she sees Frank and Karen escaping, then slaps her palm against the food court floor.

Brilliant, bright streaks of azure energy zip along the floor, twinkling against the tiles before disappearing a few feet ahead of Karen and Frank.

The floor –from edge to edge of the hall, leaving no area untouched—crumple into ash, leaving a pit more than twenty feet deep. The ground between the doors behind Allison and the girl in question evaporate as well, along with the spaces in front of the emergency exits.

“Just when I left my rock climbing gear at home,” Wade grumbles, sounding somewhat winded.

Allison charges towards Karen and Frank, rendering tables, chairs, and random debris to ash as she runs to get a straight shot. She knocks Wade off his feet with via chucking a bolt of energy at him, forces you to duck behind a Pizza Hut counter with another one—

And then runs smack into Mikhail when he teleports right in front of her.

Mikhail wraps his arms around her, then leans back so he clears her feet off the ground. He stumbles a little while Allison rages and snarls. “Got her!”

Allison swears –then twists and drives her heel into Mikhail’s crotch.

Mikhail drops. He curls in on himself, groaning. “Kroshechnyy kon'… O Bozhe, moi yaytsa.”

Allison tumbles to the ground. She dodges more wind strikes from you, then lets out a feral snarl as she charges towards Frank and Karen.

Frank yanks Karen behind him, then shouts as he barrels towards Allison.

He has no game plan. You can see it in his eyes.

You vault yourself over the Subway counter, intent on tackling Allison, or knocking her over with a wind slice, or –something.

Before you can do anything, a blue circle forms around Allison, glowing brightly before expanding into a domed shield.

Allison skitters to a stop. Her dark curls jerk and bounce as she looks around wildly. She seethes, then launches a blast of energy at the shield, only for it to bounce off the veil of energy harmlessly.

A few feet away, Illyana lowers her hand. She smirks. “There. Much better.”

“Will –will that hold her?” Karen asks, voice rough and shaky.

“Until we can find way to transport, da.” Illyana reaches up her sleeve, then pulls out a spell book. “I have potent sleep spell. Will take but moment to find proper runes for casting.”

Behind you, Piotr groans as he finally disentangles his head from a –now very crushed—oven. He staggers, shakes himself, then turns and sags with relief when he sees Allison in the shield bubble. “Oh. Good.”

“Are you okay?” You jog over to him as he armors down and all but collapses into a nearby booth. “Babe? What’s wrong?”

“Ears are ringing.” He groans and clutches his head in his hands. “I hit my head very hard.”

You rub his shoulders, reassuring yourself as much as you are him. You can only imagine where else he’s hurt if Allison managed to concuss him while in defense mode. All you want now is to get back to Xavier’s so your husband can get the medical treatment he needs. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be—”

The ground shakes.

You steady yourself on the booth opposite Piotr –then suck a breath between your teeth when it happens again, harder than before. “Shit.” You whip your gaze back to Illyana. “What’s—”

You see Illyana, teeth gritted and eyes glowing blue as she holds both her hands towards the shield. 

You see Nathan, Neena, and everyone else slowly backing away from the dome of energy.

And, inside the containment bubble, you see Allison, flinging attack after attack at the walls of the shield.

Your eyes widen when you watch Allison unleash a sustained burst of energy at the shield walls. Fuck.

Glowing, white cracks form along the shield.

Oh holy fuck.

“Get down!” Neena screams.

Piotr all but tackles you –despite his head injury—to the floor just as the shield gives way. He armors back up, then covers your body with his.

Magic energy explodes through the food court, flinging the remaining tables and chairs into the walls. All the windows –in the skylights, the automatic doors, and the nearby shops—blow out, spraying glass everywhere. The ground shakes, cracking and dissipating into clouds of ash in various places.

Allison crawls out of the crater left by her explosion. She pants, shoulders heaving with each breath. Her mouth tugs into a fierce scowl; her eyes glow so brightly that they’re almost white.

Cracks form on the ground next to her, glowing white and smoking. They widen into gaping holes, with vortexes of energy swirling inside them.

And then these… beasts crawl out of them. Snarling, slobbering monsters with fangs the size of your arm. Their claws shatter the tiles underneath their massive paws. Their eyes glow red, not unlike hellfire. They almost look like wolves, if wolves had crossbred with the Hulk and had ichor and tar dripping off their skin.

Your jaw drops. “What the…”

Mikhail lets out a whoop. “Puppies!”

“Do puppies normally look like they want to turn humans into sausages?” Wade yelps, skittering out of reach when one of the hellhounds lets out a howl that sends a plume of fire into the air.

Illyana swears up a storm. She flicks her wrist, summoning the Soul Sword to her hand.

Before she can do anything else, though, one of the hellhounds charges her, knocking her off her feet and into one of the nearby shops.

“Snezhinka!” Piotr shoves himself to the feet, armors up, and barrels off after his sister –with Mikhail hot on his heels.

The other hellhound stalks towards Neena, Wade, and Nathan. It growls, acid dripping from its teeth and onto the ground, corroding whatever it touches.

“Should’ve worn the brown pants,” Wade groans. “Okay –anyone got a plan?”

“Duck!” Neena shouts when the hound unleashes another fiery howl.

You don’t duck –or run, or attack, or anything useful. No, you freeze, torn between going after your husband and siblings-in-law, helping protect Wade, Neena, and Nate, or trying to get Karen and Frank away from Allison.

Speaking of which…

Allison is lobbing bolts of energy at Frank and Karen; she’s closing in on them fast, quickly cornering them against the crater she’d made between the food court and the rest of the wall.

Frank whisks Karen behind his back. “Hey, hey, hey!” He extends a hand towards Allison in some sort of desperate attempt to get her to stop. “Just calm the fuck down!”

“Go to hell!” She rears back for another attack –and there’s no cover, nothing for Frank or Karen to hide behind or grab onto—

The choice makes itself for you.

You jump over the booth Piotr had pulled both of you behind and whip a wall of wind at her.

The blast launches her off her feet. She shrieks, sailing behind a pile of rubble before disappearing from view.

“Come on!” You leap over to Karen and Frank. The sounds of the hellhounds are too close for comfort –and, judging by Wade’s shrieks, the general amounts of swearing, and Piotr’s groans of exertion, the beasts are winning. “Let’s get out of here.” You get an arm around Karen, then start to put one around Frank, intent on lifting them over the crater and flying them out of here—

There’s a scream, and then a thin, whip-like strand of blue energy wraps around Frank’s neck.

His eyes go comically wide as he flies backwards. He lets out a choked shout, then groans –guttural and rough—when he hits the ground.

Allison stalks towards him. Her teeth are bared, and she looks entirely done with the situation. …And then she pulls a knife out of her jacket pocket.

You level another blast of air in Allison’s direction.

She manages to deflect it with a shield, then fires a volley of energy bolts at you and Karen.

Karen dodges.

You don’t.

You careen into the crater, narrowly dodging exposed bits of steel bar reinforcement and some leaking water lines before hitting rock hard dirt. You grunt, wind going out of you as you crumple against the ground. Fuck.

The hellhounds are still snarling nearby. You can still hear their ghoulish howls, accompanied by the crackling roar of the fire they unleash with each snap. Above the hellish din, Wade’s swearing and shrieking about his ass, Nate’s firing his future gun, Illyana and Mikhail are arguing—

Dammit. You shove yourself to your feet, panting and swearing the entire time. Once you’re upright, you launch yourself to the mall floor—

Which is when a new sound makes itself known to you.

Frank is screaming. That in and of itself isn’t unusual –he does it quite often—but now he’s doing it on his back, hands wrapped around Allison’s forearms, trying to keep her from sinking her knife blade into his right eye.

You’d think it wouldn’t be much of a fight –but she’s winning. She’s using her powers for leverage against Frank’s strength. You wouldn’t think a teenager with arms like noodles would have a shot, but Frank’s arms are shaking as Allison slowly, inexorably, pushes the knife towards his head. 

Frank shouts –and Allison shrieks right back at him; she sounds like a pissed off barn owl.

You stumble forward, wincing and collapsing to your knees when your left leg screams in protest. Shit.

Allison bares her teeth at Frank –and then she freezes. Her body goes stiff. Her eyes roll into the back of her head –and then she collapses against the ground, limp as a ragdoll.

Karen Page stands behind her, stun gun in hand. She lets out a hard breath when Allison drops against the ruined tile floor, then turns the stun gun off and reaches to help Frank up. “You okay?”

He grunts by way of response.

Allison starts squirming against the ground, trying to push herself upright.

She yanks the barbs and wires connecting her to Karen’s stun gun out of her shoulder, seething and snarling all the while. She staggers to her feet, lurching wildly as she tries to regain control over her body. She whirls, dark curls flinging back and forth with abandon.

Frank snaps into action. He immediately throws Karen behind him, forcing her back and away as Allison storms towards them. He holds one hand out, keeping some space between him and the teen. His gaze snaps back and forth, searching wildly for some sort of obstacle to put in her path or some sort of cover to duck behind—

There’s a dull thud, and then Allison lets out a choked shout as she tumbles to the ground.

Behind her, standing in the wreckage of one of the shops, Neena lowers the repression cuff gun your dad created to help capture rogue mutants.

You bend over, panting as you brace your hands against your knees. “Cool. Awesome. Holy shit.”

The snarling of the hellhounds disappears, too; the only sign they were there to begin with are the mounds of ash they leave behind. 

Slowly, your dad, Wade, and the Rasputin siblings come staggering out of the surrounding shops.

You sidle up next to Piotr, who’s already armoring down and looks beat to hell. You nod at him when he nods to you, then focus on the scene at hand.

Allison crouches on the floor. She snarls, yanking at the repression cuff on her wrist.

“Okay –ow, fuck!” Wade cringes as he resets his dislocated arm, then limps towards Allison. “Alright, murder baby. I’ve been chewed on, used as a tug toy, had a shop light fall on my nuts, and I’m pretty sure my third cervical vertebra is never going to feel whole again. Your whole ‘vengeance blood lust’ was pretty cute, but I draw the line at spinal reconfiguration. Time for you to head over to Xavier’s Home for Extraordinary Children and do group fucking therapy like the rest of the X-Dweebs.”

Allison bares her teeth at him, then kicks him square in the crotch.

Wade shrieks, doubling over and dropping to the floor. He curls into a fetal position, whimpering over his “dangly unmentionables.”

“Enough, Allison,” Nathan grits out. He uses his telekinesis to drag her across the floor, steadily sliding her towards him. “It’s done. Let it go.”

“Eat –eat shit!” Allison scrabbles against the floor, searching for a handhold –then snags a loose gun (most likely dropped by Mikhail at some point) and fires at Nathan. She struggles to her feet when he ducks –breaking the telekinetic hold—then whirls and aims at Frank.

“No!” Karen flings herself in front of Frank –which results in a lot of protesting from him—and holds out a hand. “Allison, no! Killing him isn’t what you want!”

“Like hell it is!”

“No, it isn’t. He’ll be dead and you’ll be in jail, and you’ll still have all your anger with no outlet for it,” Karen insists, voice ragged. She fixes Allison with a hard stare. “Let it go, Allison. Killing him won’t change anything.”

Allison sneers. “Fuck you. Like this is about ‘change!’ My family’s never coming back, and I have to live with that every single day. I have to remember waking up to them being gone, to their brains on the walls, to his—” she whips the gun wildly to point at Frank “—stupid graffiti tag on the floor. No, fuck you! I’m the one who has to go through the nightmares and the loneliness and the grief and has to bury my family! I don’t care that this won’t change anything. I’ll feel good for five seconds, and that’s better than the past few months have been!”

Your stomach clenches. Shit.

Frank gulps. Eyes shining, he steps out in front of Karen –even though she tries to stop him—and puts himself right in Allison’s line of sight. “You want me dead? Do it.”

“Frank,” Nathan says, voice sharp with warning.

“Pull the trigger,” Frank says, stepping closer as Allison’s hands shake. “Take me out. I killed your family. I did the same thing to you that happened to me. I’m a hypocrite; I deserve it.”

Allison seethes, body trembling as Frank slowly approaches her. “I will! I’ll do it!”

“Pull the trigger,” Frank says, voice soft and thick with emotion. “Do it, kid. Take me down if you want it so bad.”

Wade pushes himself off the ground. “Castle, I swear to God—”

Allison growls –and lowers her gun. She sobs, shoulders slumping. She falls to her knees, body shaking with each gasping breath she takes. “You couldn’t just… kill me? Do me the favor of not having to live without them?”

Frank flinches, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows reflexively. “I don’t do shit like that, kid.”

Allison looks up at him –and her gaze sharpens. She smiles, sharp and manic. “Oh. So that’s what it takes to break you.”

And then she put the muzzle of the gun under her chin.

“No!” You fling yourself at Allison, colliding with her before she can pull the trigger. You tackle her to the ground, wrenching the gun out of her hands before hugging her tight against your chest. “No, sweetheart. No. No, no, no—”

Allison shrieks. Tears stream down her face once more. “Just let me die! Please! Why won’t any of you just let me die!”

You shush her gently, rocking her back and forth. You cast your gaze over your shoulder, looking to Piotr.

He’s scrubbing at his face with his hand. He meets your gaze, eyes widening before he shrugs, as though to say, “I don’t know how to handle this, either.”

“Okay.” Nathan crosses the distance to you and Allison. He crouches behind her, cuffing her hands behind her back before helping her and you stand. “Alright, kiddo. Let’s… let’s get you some rest. Okay?”

“I –I need Ar-Artemis,” Allison sobs. Her body heaves with each step she takes. “I need Artemis, I need her—”

“Okay, munchkin,” Wade says as he walks Allison in the direction of the jet. “We’ll get her called for you. Do you have her number? Anyone else you want us to call?”

“My law-lawyer.”

“That checks out.”

You hang back, letting Wade take over. You feel fried; pain aside, your mind is utterly void, a swirling mass of black and gibberish and too much and screaming and—

Neena hooks her arm around yours. She smiles at you when you look up at her, then gently ushers you after Wade and the others. “Come on. Let’s get back to the mansion.”

***

“I’m gonna fucking murder you, Castle!”

You wince as another angry shriek bounces off the walls of the jet’s cabin. You’re sitting on one of the benches, injured leg propped up on your husband’s lap.

Allison snaps and rages as Mikhail, Neena, and Wade try to buckle her in; somewhere during the walk to the jet, she’d switched from broken weeping to insurmountable rage once more.

Next to you, Frank keeps his eyes trained on the ground. He’s got an arm around Karen, who’s watching Allison in cautious silence.

“You’re fucking dead! I will hang you up by your fucking intestines! I’ll put your fucking sniper scope up your ass, you emo wannabe piece of shit!”

Wade snickers. “‘Emo wannabe piece of shit.’ Good one.”

Now that you’re up close to her, you can see just… how not well she’s doing. Dark bags hang under her eyes, stark against her pallid skin. Her cheeks and neck are gaunt –and, under her dark clothes and slapdash body armor, you suspect the rest of her body tells a similar story of grief and an inability to cope.

Who could cope, with everything she’s been through? The only person in this jet who has a similar understanding is the one that put her family in the ground –and he did that to cope with losing his own family and being shot in the head, so that pretty much says how well he’s doing, technically speaking.

Piotr squeezes you gently when you sigh. “We are almost home.”

Not close enough, you think as Allison all but foams at the mouth while she hurls insult after insult at Frank.

Wade rears back, shaking his hand. “Not the middle one! I need that one! Motherfucker!”

Allison spits his finger out of her mouth. She plants her feet, then tries to launch herself at Frank again.

“Enough!” You stand, careful to keep your weight off your bad leg. “You’re in a jet and you don’t have use of your hands. Either let yourself be buckled in or we’re sedating you!”

“This is bullshit,” Allison growls, even as she lets Neena and Mikhail sit her down and strap her in. Her eyes never leave Frank. “He’s the one who killed my family, and I’m the one in handcuffs.”

You march over to Allison as best you can. You’re not sure what your face looks like right now, but given the way she shrinks back you’re certain you look pissed. You plant your hands on the wall behind her, one on either side of her head, then lean in until you’re almost nose to nose with her. “You’re handcuffed,” you spit out between gritted teeth, “because you tried to kill yourself in that mall. The restraints are for your own safety; they have nothing to do with Frank.”

“But he—”

“Isn’t in our jurisdiction,” you tell her, voice hard. “We picked you up because you’re a mutant engaging in criminal activity. It was either us or the DMC, and if it’d been them, you’d be in the Icebox or dead. Frank only came because you kidnapped his girlfriend –and, frankly, it’s reasonable that he’d want to come along to save her.”

The dark-eyed teen pouts up at you. “But –my family—”

“Is gone,” you finish, voice softer now. You lean back a little so you’re not so in her space. “And I’m sorry you lost them, Allison. I really am. What Frank did was wrong. But you can’t keep on this path. You’re endangering yourself, and you’re endangering the rest of the community by reinforcing the belief that mutants are dangerous through your actions.” You straighten up. “If you don’t calm down, we’re going to have to lock you in one of the changing rooms until we’re at the mansion. Do you want that?”

She glowers, but shakes her head.

“Neither do I—”

“We can go into one of the changing rooms.” Karen stands, and Frank stands with her. She flashes you a sympathetic, appreciative smile when you look at her. “We’ll be fine in there.”

You heave an internal sigh of relief when Neena ushers Frank and Karen into one of the changing rooms, then slides the door shut.

Allison glares after Frank. She sniffs, chin trembling. “He killed my family. I woke up and –and they were gone.”

“I know, sweetheart.” You smooth her hair away from her face as she starts crying again. “I know.

“I want Artemis,” she sobs, skinny shoulders shaking with each breath she takes. “My phone –on my phone—”

“We’ll make sure we call her for you,” you reassure her as you stroke her hair. You grimace as she collapses –as much as the seatbelt lets her—against you, weeping against your neck. You hold her as best you can, trying to ignore the twinges in your leg or the creeping sense of ‘we’re in over our fucking heads… again’ crawling up your spine. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

[nautiscarader]

Nautiscarader’s Wendip Week day 3: Prank War

geez, this one took a while. I apologise, and let’s hope next one will arrive faster

 (ao3)

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

Someone standing outside of The Mystery Shack might have thought that the living room contained a very predictable lighting bug, or at least that someone inside was broadcasting a rather boring Morse code message using light signals.

In reality, it was just Wendy and Dipper, slouched on the sofa, surfing TV channels, giving each of them at most three seconds to entertain their bored minds. So far, none of them stood up to the challenge.

But as Wendy continued the only physical activity she had the energy for, i.e. pressing one button, something finally caught their attention.

- "What's up everyone? It's your boy, the Prankster Prancer!"

A loud, obnoxious, blonde man in his twenties, wearing spiky, gelled hair rode into the shot on a fake unicorn, face-hugged the camera, filling the wide-angle lens and made both Dipper and Wendy jump in their seats as loud horn noise shook the air around them.

- Wait, I thought this guy was only on the internet! - Wendy raised her brow - Did he escape to the real world?! - Come on, who in the right mind would give him a show? - "So, first of all, thanks to our station, The Cheese Network, for giving me the chance to entertain you guys..."

Dipper and Wendy groaned in collective understanding.

- "...and for giving us some cheese to pay for our last week's prank!"

The screen dimmed and the camera changed to an aerial shot, containing not only fires and flood, but also several military helicopters.

- "So last time we did some EPIC prank during the gender reveal party and we've made a hole in the ozone hole!"

The man made extra effort to extend every vowel in the last word, to an equally obnoxious collection of sound effects.

- Wow. That looks... bad. Even by our standards. - Wendy watched the footage. - Yeah. Good thing this dude stays away from us. - "And now it's time to reveal the next place for our EPIC PRANK!"

The man took a baseball bat and unceremoniously smashed the unicorn doll in half, and stuck his hand in the fake guts, revealing an envelope.

- "And this one is a suggestion from my top commentator on-line, that girl leaves comments under every single one of my videos, so I could not ignore her request".

The envelope was opened, and suddenly, a girl's voice began reading it.

- "Dear Prankster Prancer. I love your videos, and how creative your calamity can be..." - Wait a minute - Dipper sat up, as his eyes widened in horror - Is that- - "My name is Mabel Pines, and I am staying in a small town called Gravity Falls, in Oregon...".

Dipper and Wendy looked at each other and understood each other at once.

- Barricade the doors!

But it was too late. As Dipper ran towards the lobby, the door were smashed to the ground, seemingly under the power of the air horns, and flooded the Shack with lights. The same blonde man walked inside, as if he owned the place, leading with him Mabel Pines.

- What's up birches? Is that how you call people living in the middle of a forest? - he shoved his face to the camera again. - More like, in the middle of nowhere! - Mabel added, high-five'ing him - Thankfully, me and my Prankster Protégé are gonna rock this place! - he shouted.

Dipper Pines stood up and cleaned himself from the dust and debris, watching as the two rock their heads to some aggressive tune.

- Hold on a minute! Mabel, why did you invite him here? If anything, there's too much going around in here! - Ugh, this is my little brother, Dipper. - Mabel rolled her eyes - I'm-I'm not little! - Dipper stomped in place - We're twins!

Somewhere behind him, Wendy snickered.

- What, you just look adorable when you're angry.

Dipper turned back and stormed towards his sister.

- Mabel, do you have amnesia or something? Gravity Falls is full of amazing things! We've been on treasure hunts, found all sorts of monsters in every lake, glade and a cave... You wanted to date a zombie on out first day here! - Yeah, sure, kid, as if I could just walk into a forest and find a dead body... - the Prankster took a sip of soda, looking somewhat nervously. - Mabel, we've seen living dinosaurs here! - Yeah, like I can see one now!

The Prankster pointed to the kitchen and very confused Grunkle Stan in his pajamas.

- What in the DMV is going on here? - Check this out, a living fossil!

The Prankster jumped towards Grunkle Stan and unceremoniously took a selfie with him.

- Oh no, my eyes! The light is coming towards me instead of the other way around!

Stan cried when flash of light blinded him, and with a sleigh of hand, the blonde man undid his belt, causing Stan to nearly trip and fall, if it wasn't for Wendy.

- Hey, you! You're not a prankster, you're a jerk!

At the sound of those words, the man stopped laughing and turned his attention, as well as cameras, towards Wendy.

- What's that? We've got ourselves a HATER!

An air horn was about to blow her hat off, but Wendy swiftly grabbed it and twisted it.

- Yeah, that's what I've said, you're a jerk. I like pranking people, but not to hurt them. - And watchu gonna do, leave a mean comment? - No, we're gonna prank you. - Wendy reached and brought Dipper towards her. - Cos we've done some pranking together ourselves! - Like what? - Like... when we've made our friend think his inflatable tube could talk!

The Prankster shot them with a dead stare.

- You know what, I don't even have time to play the "wah-wah" soundbite. But if you want to lose, your call. Tomorrow, we're gonna get an EPIC PRANK-OFF!

And he shot a pose in front of the camera.

- Right, now tell me where's someplace to eat. And they better have unlimited refills. - Lazy Susan is neat. And there's water tower nearby...

And with that, he and Mabel walked off, leaving the small destruction behind them.

- Wendy! - Dipper turned at once towards her - Are you crazy? He has entire film crew! And money! And very little empathy! He's gonna plough through us! - Chill out, man, we're gonna trick him, one way or another.

And she gently smacked the edge of his hat.

- Er, I know you guys like to babble all the time, but I still can't get up. - Grunkle Stan grumbled from the floor.

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

The next day, Wendy woke up at the break of dawn with unbridled optimism. Dipper less so, and he was a bit nervous when Wendy gathered him and her crew in the small lumberjack shack in the woods to explain the plan of action.

- So, any questions? - she asked

At the same time, every teenager in the small room raised hands.

- So, how does exactly the can of whipped cream is supposed to work with the rake? - Tambry asked - And what do we have to do with the rat-shaped balloons? - Thompson asked shyly. - And can't we just... punch him? - Robbie suggested, mimicking the action. - Ugh, you guys!

Wendy groaned and hid her face in her hands. hearing the murmurs of doubt across the room, Dipper quickly stood up and continued.

- Guys, this jerk is giving us, pranksters, a bad name! We gotta prank him in a way that shows we are better... Because we can do better!

He watched as faces of the older teenagers brighten with his speech. Several of them even smiled.

- Plus he could, like, sue us for millions of dollars, so we gotta stay clean.

With newly gained optimism, the gang rushed to Thompson's van and readied themselves for the prank.

- Thanks, man, for giving me a hand. - Wendy suddenly patted Dipper's back. - Oh, no-no problem. - Dipper spoke, wondering if she noticed his blush.

=========

- Alright, we're all in places.

Wendy spoke to her phone, and observed the places, leaning from behind the wall. Her eyes moved from Robbie, hidden in the abandoned ice-cream stall, to Thompson, on top of a tree, to Tambry, pretending to read a large newspaper, and finally, to Dipper, holding a bag of provisions.

- We-Wendy, I'm not sure if this is gonna work. - Now!

She commanded, as Prankster walked nonchalantly out of the store. He thre away the half-eaten sandwich he just bought and was about to walk into the string that would have activate the whipped cream... if he didn't make a sudden jump.

He then threw something into the stall.

- Oh, crap, it's a grenade!

Robbie stormed out, tripping on the same wire he helped setting up, which resulted in his black hair covered in white goo and sprinkles.

Tambry was supposed attack next, but Prankester was already next to her. He took a bucket of soapy water and dumped it over her, destroying her diguise that covered her pruple hair.

For Thompson, he didn't even have to do much - he threw a mouse toy into the air, and listened how the boy tumbles down, shrieking.

And finally, he took something big and colourful out of his backpack and tossed it onto the street, watching as Dipper and Wendy rush towards it.

- Limited edition Giraffeoala!

They realised the two were after it when it was too late. Their heads collided with each other, just as the elusive plushie was yanked from their hands, back into his bag.

- Seriously, guys? You wanted to outsmart me? There like five of you and you couldn't do it. - Ha! That was a good one! - Mabel emerged from behind his back and did another high-five. - But I couldn't do it without you. - he pointed at her. - Me? But I didn't do anything... - Of course you did.

The Prankster lowered his sunglasses.

- Last evening at that stupid bar. You told me you were friends with everyone here. You told me how one of them likes gloomy, dark places. Like another one is afraid of mice. Like another one never looks away from her phone...

Mabel's ecstatic, radiant smile faded with each word the Prankster spoke, and her eyes, widened from excitation began to fill with tears.

- And, well, you told me what these two dorks are obsessed about... amongst other things. - Mabel! - Wendy and Dipper cried at the same time. - But-But I didn't... - Aw, really? You feel sad for them? LAME. - he pushed her aside and waved for his crew that followed him anyway.

For quite a while, all the small town could hear was Mabel Pines sobbing, until someone closed his arms around her.

- There, there, sis. - Dipper spoke quietly. - I guess you see why were so angry now. - I-I didn't know he would...

Dipper hugged her, letting her cry as much as she wants into his vest.

- It's not your fault, Mabel. - Wendy added, taking a knee and gently patting her. - But-But it is! - Well... Kinda... - Robbie added, and received a cold, piercing stare from Wendy. - Jerks like that like to... use people. And they know that the best ones are those, who are most trusting and kind.

Mabel's sniffing stopped, as Wendy continued.

- But you know what? - Dipper spoke suddenly - I think I got an idea...

He let go of his sister rushed to the Prankster, sitting on one of the toy unicorns, tossing quarter after quarter, while two children in queue began to tear up.

- Hey, you! - Ugh, you again, twerp. What, want me to reveal more secrets about you and your stupid hobbies? Or, like, who is your biggest crush after a toy plushie from the 90s?

Dipper's face reddened, but he remained unperturbed.

- We're not done yet. Tomorrow we're gonna prank you for good. Double or nothing! - Ugh, sure, fine. - the Prankster didn't even look at him - It's not like I can do anything until my lawyers clean up the whole "gender reveal party" fiasco. Like, who cares if the whole state is now inhabitable for life?

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

By the next morning, the battleground was set. Cameras and tons of equipment surrounded the small grassy meadow in front of the Mystery Shack, where Dipper and Wendy were sitting in their chairs with their arms crossed, both wearing much more confident smiles. And the fact that Mabel was with them added them extra layer of morale.

When the clock struck 12, a mighty roar shook the place, as monster truck drove from behind the tree line, smoking and setting nearby branches on fire. The Prankster Prancer jumped out of it, and, drowned in the flashes of cameras, walked into his place.

- So, are you twerps ready for the FINAL PRANK OF YOUR LIFE? - he roared into the microphone, rolling his tongue back and forth as if he was about to eat it. - Nah, we're not gonna prank you. - Wendy shrugged - But someone else will.

The newly reinstalled door to the Mystery Shack opened, and a new figure appeared. An elderly woman walked out, being led by Grunkle Stan that gallantly helped her, for once not sneaking his hand into her purse.

And when she looked up from behind her glasses, the confident smile on Prancer's face disappeared at once.

- Grandma?! What-What are you doing here?! - Oh, don't you know? - Grunkle Stan rushed with explanation - We, old folks, all know each other. And I simply couldn't let her miss her grandson's grand day! - I'm so glad I can see you, Archibald!

The elderly lady used her cane to hook him by his neck and brought him into his arms, despite his best efforts to avoid any interactions.

- G-Grandma, don't- don't call me that! - Why not? - she continued, seemingly ignoring her grandson efforts to escape her tight hug. - I am your grandma, and I will call you by your full name, Archibald Roderick Sebastian Eugene!

Somewhere behind them, Dipper, Wendy and Mabel were having the time of their life, trying to hide their laughter.

- So, wait, his initials literally make him an... - Grandma! Make them stop! They-they are laughing at me! - Nonsense! Those young folks told me all your fans would love to see me talk about you. So I've send them some photos via the eclectic mail!

The blonde man looked to the side at Wendy and Dipper's faces. Their wide smiles told him everything, and in the act of ultimate desperation, he gently shook his head, silently mouthing his plea. He then looked at Mabel's, but hers was filled with spite.

In response, Mabel simply pressed a button.

The enormous screen behind them lit up, showing an adorable newborn blonde boy in diaper, giggling at the baby rattle.

Several more followed, showing his equally naked body in progressively embarrassing positions.

The screen changed, and the same boy was now three-years old, wearing a strict haircut as well as a bowtie. And the worst part was, he looked happy.

The Prankster Prancer fell to his knees, as tears began rolling from his eyes, which his grandma quickly dried with her handkerchief.

- Oh, yes, I do tear up a little at this one too. Oh, but the next one makes me so proud!

Prancer's eyes widen, if possibly even more, and throwing away all the pretence, he rushed to Wendy and Dipper and began begging them for mercy. But it was for nothing. He knew they have seen the photo already.

And with another press of a button, a seven-year old Prancer was shown, wearing a blue cardigan, sitting in an armchair with a big book in his hands, smiling at the camera, proudly showing his braces.

The scanned photo displayed a title, written in crayon over it.

"I love school!"

Flocks of birds flew into the air from the nearby trees in response to the shriek that reverberated the air, full of remorse, despair, and unmistakably, defeat.

- Nooooo!

The Prancer hit the ground with his fists, for which he was quickly reprimanded by his grandma ("You're going to make them dirty!"), while Wendy and Dipper high-fived each other, before giving Mabel a warm hug.

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

- So I guess that will teach him? - Dipper asked Wendy as the two lay on the sofa, flicking through the channels again. - Pfh. I wish it did. - Wendy reached for her phone and showed Dipper a familiar blonde man waving his arms uncontrollably. - "What's up Prankster Pros? It's ya boy, and I've got this sweet book deal full of my MOST EMBARASSING photos! Look at that baby bottom! Only for $99.99..." - Geez, I guess they never learn. - Nope. But at least he's not here...

For a while the room dimmed every few seconds, as Wendy searched for anything interesting, but something else was on Dipper's mind.

- So... about those Cuddle Buddies...

The remote fell out of Wendy's hand.

- Uh, yeah, so, I just...

She shied away and mumbled her answer, until she saw a polite smile on Dipper's face.

- So, like, remember ever since you wanted to win that Duck Panda for me? I... kinda got into them, you know. Not like, obsessively collecting them, but... you know. - Yeah, I do. For cuddling.

The two looked at each other and exchanged the same, warm smiles.

- So which generation you like the most? - Well, gen 2 obviously - she rolled her eyes - What? Five is the best. - The best as sucking, perhaps. - Come on, they had changed the lead designer and everything, but they're still Cuddle Buddies...

For quite a while, the channel stayed on, as neither of them bother to change it. And when the night fell on, Wendy and Dipper realised that they might have discovered something new to talk about.

[britishassistant]

The Villainous Paranoiac Goes To Jail and Ninja Afterlife

Two innocent children get sent to Night Raven College

A set of scenarios about three of my ocs unwittingly trading places for two days, non-canon to any of my AUs

Swap 1:

Yuu—> Konohagakure

Yuu wakes up with a tantō to the throat.

Chie: Tell me where my daughter is and I’ll make your death quick

Yuu promptly freaks the fuck out

Through a combination of panicked yelling and tears the Prefect manages to convey to the Ketsugi that if there was a kidnapping, Yuu is both uninvolved and as much as of a victim as their precious daughter

Gai confirms that the strange teenager not only has no chakra, but clearly has little to no combat training despite his(?) athleticism, meaning Mayu-chan could easily overpower an assailant of this size, especially one this undernourished!

Yuu tries not to be offended and to avoid staring at Gai and Lee’s eyebrows they’re so big

Promptly shrieks when Kami!Sanji materializes to confirm that the Paranoiac had nothing to do with Mayu’s disappearance as far as the other gods can tell

Yuu becomes convinced that this place is the afterlife

The sad part is that Chie and Jirou can’t actually say much to the contrary, because??? Their daughter remembers dying before she came here?? Also there are active deities just floating around so.

Actually tears up at the homemade meals the Ketsugi provide

Before being sick as a dog later because food infused with chakra? Does not agree with a person without a chakra regulatory system

Surprisingly patient with Lee and any questions he has the purity of Jack and Deuce is strong in this one

Bit more long-suffering towards Naruto and his rendition of Wonderwall. Sunshine child too bright, introvert Yuu can’t handle it

Keeps writing down everything everyone says

This makes ANBU and ROOT very twitchy

The Paranoiac is quietly slated for “interview” at T&I the next day

Yuu crashes on the Ketsugi couch none the wiser

Mayu—> Nanba

Mayu wakes up to confused screaming and profanity.

It’s Hani.

It’s very rare for screaming not to be because of Hani

All he knows is one child was in this bed last night, and now’s there’s a different one dressed like it came straight out of Ninja Kamikaze???

Mayu for her part is both very alarmed to be waking up in a prison cell with two strange men and very glad she has her bokken with her

Kiji comes in to find his beautiful inmates being menaced by a twelve year old with a wooden sword

The twelve year old is winning

Once Mayu has ascertained that they aren’t enemy ninja and she’s somehow in her old world (?) she becomes much more cooperative with the guards

She’s very worried about how she’s going to get back to her family in Konoha

Also wondering if she should try to contact her former little brother Harp (who knows if she’ll ever get the chance again?)

These worries are not assuaged when the Warden informs her that there’s no records proving “Tamara Kaur” ever existed

For lack of any relations who they can contact to take the child off their hands, and because they have no idea how she successfully infiltrated the most secure prison in the world and replaced one of the inmates, the Warden decides to keep Mayu in Nanba’s holding cells until further notice

Guess who finds the samurai child while breaking out?

Nico, Uno, and Rock are amazed at the existence of a real live Japanese Samurai! With a katana and everything!!

Jyugo just asks straight out if Mayu’s an actor too

Mayu is very bemused by everything, but they seem friendly! The one with the mohawk likes food too!

Plus the blonde one is British! Just like she used to be!

Uno is very confused about how a twelve year old somehow lost her citizenship

Break Mayu out to get food together

They get caught the moment they set foot in the cafeteria and scolded very harshly

Mayu has trouble sleeping in a cell cot that night

Nana—> Night Raven College

Nana’s first instinct on waking up in a strange bed next to a monster is to assume he’s been kidnapped and attempt to subdue his captors

Which means Grim wakes up to an attempted smothering

The ghosts hear muffled screaming and rush in only to get salt and iron filings to the face. Nana actually has them all on the run when Crowley bursts in

Instantly becomes a confused and lost child in front of the headmaster and dorm heads

Only Grim and the ghosts know the truth, and their complaints are overlooked due to them “scaring the poor boy”

No one has any idea what to do with a thirteen year old magicless kid. It was hard enough with Yuu, and the Prefect was at least sixteen and could attend classes!

Nana adapts quickly to the idea of being in this new world— he’s just sad he couldn’t say goodbye to Kiji, Hani-senpai and Trois-senpai before leaving Nanba

Immediately resolves to leave NRC at the earliest possible convenience when he gets a good look at the Theory Wall— he can’t even read Japanese but that amount of crazy that it signifies always spells trouble

Is confused by all the pictures of Disney villains on the Theory Wall, but decides it’s not worth the trouble to ask about

Actually uses the beauty products Vil left for Yuu correctly

Gets semi-adopted into Pomefiore after asking Vil where the high quality products came from

Grim and the ghosts aren’t sorry to see the little brat go

Vil carts him around to test his potential in the performance arts

Epel tries to be a good senpai for the kid, and tells him he doesn’t have to just go along with Vil

Nana appreciates the effort, but does find this kind of thing more fun than being on his own he’s homesick for his cell

Rook enjoys seeing the child freeze up minutely whenever he asks about the prison attire and the large “7” tattoo on the back of the boy’s head

Nana likes Rook less and less with every pointed question the vice dorm leader makes

Can’t sleep in the big cushy Pomefiore bed and so curls up on the floor with a pillow instead

Swap 2:

Yuu—> Nanba

What why is Yuu in jail now

The prefect was supposed to be back home/in Ramshackle Dorm, why is Yuu in jail now—

Yuu is stressed and overdue for Grim snuggles

Paranoiac is also not thrilled about being stuck in Building Three— it’s like Pomefiore on steroids

At least Epel and Vil don’t steal and obsess over the underwear of their “fans”

Rook...the jury’s still out. But probably not. Probably

Maybe

Hopefully

Much less cooperative than Mayu.

Questions about the Prefect’s family name are met with a stony glare. “It’s Yuu. Just Yuu. How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

Can’t answer any questions about Mayu or her current whereabouts despite admitting to knowing of the girl, but does posit a theory about the three of them transmigrating and swapping places based on the information gained in Konoha

Gets offended and even less cooperative when the interrogating guard calls the hypothesis “crazy”

Not intimidated by Hajime or the other guards in the slightest. Yuu’s classmates are far more likely to inflict lasting bodily harm and it’s hard for even the worst human glare to measure up to Floyd or Leona on a bad day

The Warden scares the Prefect though

Doesn’t stop Yuu from requesting a lawyer or other legal counsel before submitting to further questioning

The Paranoiac is a Japanese citizen and has made a point to know what the applicable legal rights for this situation are

Yuu ends up in the holding cells

Guess who hasn’t learned their lesson while breaking out?

Uno takes one look at Yuu

“Ah Jyugo, this one has your energy”

Nico loudly asks if the Prefect is from an isekai and died and reincarnated in Nanba??! Do they die over and over again and revive to beat bad guys?? Do they have an amazing cheat skill?? Are they a spider?? Can they shoot a beam??

Yuu just thinks. Ah. So this is what would happen if Kalim and Idia somehow had a kid

Don’t break the Prefect out, but Jyugo comes back later and deposits something through the bars

“This is Kuu. He’s a guard, but he’s also really good when you’re lonely. You look like you could use the company”

Yuu blinks and holds out a hand for the black cat with a guard cap to sniff

Crashing in a cell cot is uncomfortable, but hey, at least there’s a cat to pet

Mayu—> Night Raven College

Why is there a tanuki in her bed?

Grim isn’t waking up by being murdered but being poked with a stick by another smol child isn’t much better

Mayu is Concerned by the Theory Wall

“Is— is the person who lives here okay?”

Grim: Hell if I know

Mayu’s even more Concerned when she opens the fridge and sees it’s bare

>:|

Sanji wouldn’t let these people go hungry, so she’s not going to either!

Searches until she finds the Prefect’s grocery money and marches with Grim to Mr. S’s Mystery Shop

Everyone is confused by the presence of a new preteen on campus after the last one vanished from Pomefiore during the night

Mayu’s used to haggling with market people who would rather see her starve than even sell her the worst of their produce, so she’s easily able to barter Sam down to a third of the price for the groceries she wants to buy

Sam’s more amused by the guts of this tiny samurai devil than anything

Mayu and Grim drag all the food back by themselves with a few students following from a distance out of curiosity

They all soon enter Ramshackle once the smells of cooking begin to emerge from the dorm

Silver first followed because the child has a sword and is now helping to knead dough

Epel arrived because he had questions about where Nana had gone, but Mayu is genuinely clueless so now he’s peeling apples for lack of anything better to do

Mayu soon has several “helpers” for making bread and other easy-to-preserve and mix-and-match bulk meals to fill the Ramshackle fridge, though she soon has to send Grim out for more ingredients when her helpers begin getting hungry

The night ends with a feast that can rival the quality of food served at Kalim’s parties

Mayu finds one of Yuu’s blank notebooks and writes down some easy recipes the Prefect can use for all the food now in the fridge and pantry, with emphasis on fish based dishes

The ghosts and Grim enjoy having Mayu much more than Nana

Mayu still has trouble sleeping in the big Ramshackle bed that night

Nana—> Konohagakure

Well this isn’t Nanba or Night Raven College

Welp. Time to go then.

Nana is halfway out of Konoha before anyone notices

Gai does notice because a strange kid in a prison jumpsuit swiftly scurrying to the exit sticks out like a sore thumb in the early morning

ANBU’s search for the vanished Yuu is the only reason Nana isn’t stopped by them

Nana tries to run

Nothing can outrun the Beautiful Green Beast of Konoha

Nana is now more than slightly traumatized

Gets carted off to early morning training with Naruto and Lee

Is initially more interested in plotting yet another escape attempt until Lee mentions Yuu and NRC—then he’s curious about what information he can glean about the two other members of this triad

Especially interested in the concept of reincarnating into another world or being brought there by an outside force rather than moving between worlds freely

Eats an almost alarming amount for his size at breakfast that morning and leaves nothing on his plate

Unfailingly well-mannered to his hosts

Offers more information about Mayu’s past world in payment for eating the Ketsugi’s food and waking up in their home after they refuse to let him pay them back using manual labor

Asks them to tell him what they already know so he can work out what knowledge gaps to fill in

Nana: ...Why are you singing Wonderwall?

Takes it upon himself to teach Lee and Naruto more English so they can at least form basic sentences

It’s an uphill battle because predicates and participles are hard

A supportive and encouraging if slightly inept teacher

Soon realizes Chie somehow knows all the swearwords and glares at him for trying to teach them to the boys

Also falls ill from eating chakra-infested food

Gets twitchier as the day goes on and asks to leave the village several times, insisting he can’t impose on their hospitality any longer

Only agrees to sleep on the couch once Jirou subtly implies that at least people will notice and go looking if he goes missing from their house compared to if he disappeared from a tree miles away from Konoha

Can’t sleep on the couch due to jumping at noises during the night, ends up curling up on the floor next to it

[script-nef]

Fluff alphabets | Oikawa Tooru

Others: Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima

Category: fluff

Affection: How affectionate is he? How does he show affection?

Oikawa is comparable to an overgrown puppy when it comes to you.

He leaves messages and notes on how much he loves and appreciates you every day. 

He wakes up early every day for his morning run, leaving you to sleep away in the bed. By the time he comes back, you’ve gone off to work.

So before he goes out, he packs a lunch with a little post-it which says things like “I hope everything works out great today” or “Don’t forget I love you!” which brightens up your day.

Baby: Does he want to start a family?

He’d want to wait a bit even if he did. Oikawa is realistic about his work and yours, the amount of time and effort needed to raise a child along with the financial implications. 

He would want to be there for his kids, but is also unwilling to leave his career. So he would try to find a middle ground with you and try to juggle a half-half home and work life because he believes both parents need to share responsibilities equally.

Cuddles: Does he like cuddling? How often does he like hugging?

Every time he sees you, his automatic and reflexive action is a hug. 

You could be covered in mud, wearing a truckload of fragrance (a specific one he doesn’t like), sleeping on the sofa, cooking dinner; his body just moves before he realises it.

It makes him feel safe and loved, even if he’s the one caging you in his arms.

Date: What is a typical date?

Because he’s so popular and everyone can notice him when you guys go out, he prefers indoor dates or isolated camping. Just so that you can be together with no one to bother and ask for autographs. 

Either just doing simple things like finishing puzzles or making new recipes, anything he can do with you is fine. 

During camps, he loves making campfires and roasting marshmallows. You told him about s’mores and now that has become a necessity for him.

 Experience: How much has he dated before? How does that reflect in this one?

He’s gone out with plenty of people before, but only because they were part of his fan group and confessed first. He’s the one who confessed out of the two of you, and he was blushing so much while asking you out.

Still, he picked up a few tricks and experiences to help with his boyfriend skills for you. He never forgets anniversaries, always asks for your opinion first, remains attentive and spends a lot of time with you.

A girl once broke up with him because he was spending too much time with volleyball, but he vows to never let that happen with you.

Fight: Do you fight often with him? How does it usually end?

The problem is that he’s hot-headed sometimes and does not understand the meaning of limits. Arguments happen often but they end relatively well, when you both calm down and talk about your problems.

You both know that fights are necessary to help the relationship grow and understand each other but it doesn’t make it any easier. Feelings get hurt and you spend time apart, but in the end, it gets mended over late-night talks.

Gentle: How does he treat you?

Like you’re the ruler of the world and he’s just a humble servant. He’s literally willing to do anything (except illegal deeds) for you. This boy is whipped.

If you ask for anything, he’ll find a way to get it for you. Unless it takes an exorbitant amount of money. He constantly buys you clothes, cakes, games, everything. 

He makes sure you know you’re loved by him and will take every chance he gets to show it to you. 

Hand: Does he like holding your hand? How often?

Hand-holding is like a greeting for him. Just like with hugs, this boy cannot get enough physical contact when it comes to you. 

His finger laces with yours firmly as if to say “I’m here right now” and he hopes it fills you with assurance and love as it does for him.

Impression: What was your first impression of him?

A popular ikemen with a never-ending smile who gets hit a lot by this other dude.

Oikawa is famous in Seijou and everywhere else, so it wasn’t hard to get an initial impression from all of his fans’ squealing and gushing. Apparently, he’s this perfect prince who’s as pretty as hell and an amazing volleyball player.

His first impression of you was a kind and different seatmate. You had the (mis)fortune of getting placed next to him which garnered a lot of envy from his fans. He liked you since you weren’t squealing and obsessing over him like the others.

Jealousy: Does he get jealous easily? What sets him off?

Gets jealous really easily but tries to play it off. Like “Ah, [Name]-chan, are you confessing your love for other people when your one and only boyfriend is right here? I feel so neglected!” or other whiny comments.

Subtly latches onto you during and after matches, smiling threateningly at the other boys.

“Tooru, knock it off. You have no reason to be jealous. I don’t like them.” 

“I know, but they like you. I can see it in their eyes.” 

“Really? How?” 

“They’re looking at you like I used to when I started falling for you.”

Kiss: Is he good at kissing? When does he kiss you?

Thousands of pecks or light kisses every day and hundreds of deep ones in private. Oikawa kisses you so damn much that it feels like he has a disease which will kill him if he doesn’t kiss you at least once every hour or so.

His favourites are forehead kisses and neck bites. He nibbles on your skin which makes you shriek and hit him repeatedly, but he absolutely loves it.

Love: Who said “I love you” first? And when does he say it?

He said it first while trying to cheer you up. He’s noticed how you were feeling a bit down lately and tentatively asked if anything was wrong.

Then you mumbled about all his fans and if you were enough for him, which just completely shattered his heart. So he rattled off all the things he admired and cherished about you, like how you’re always so dedicated or caring.

He pressed kisses to your hand and whispered “You know I love you, right?” and squeezed you half to death when you said “Me too.”

Memory: What’s his favourite memory with you?

The moment you cried during an argument. This gets a lot of weird looks from people, which once included you, and they ask “Are you, by any chance, a sadist?” or something along those lines. But he isn’t.

Oikawa loves that moment because it proves to him you’re willing to be truthful and vulnerable to him, something he struggled to do in front of you. It showed him you care about this relationship and that you’re invested in it.

There’s plenty of other memories with you he treasures, but this one always warms his heart. (He doesn’t like seeing you cry though.)

Nickname: Does he give you a nickname? Do you have one for him?

He gives you a whole lot of really, really cheesy ones. Like “if you call me this in front of people I know outside, I’ll die from embarrassment” level ones.

Examples include: my everything, cream puff, the radiant sun, sugar bear etc. Overly sweet ones. He likes how you blush and squirm away when he calls you these. 

Everyone looks at him like “what the hell, dude” but he doesn’t give a damn.

Open: How open is he about his feelings?

Oikawa doesn’t hesitate to tell you about his moods and feelings. He once hid them from you, thinking he needs to be stronger than that, but you lectured him for about an hour about it. Now he tells you everything he feels.

Says if he’s sad, lonely, happy, excited, everything. You share all of your feelings with him as well and it makes it feel like you’re closer together now.

PDA: Is he fine with PDA? How far can he go?

He’s casual and comfortable with PDA, but it gets more intense when you’re with his friends. Like the third year gang from Seijou.

He doesn’t really get it either, but seeing you interact with his friends makes a bubble in his chest which feels like it’s going to explode at any moment. He gives you plenty of kisses and hugs, gaining boos from all his friends. He just sticks his tongue out at them, saying “I‘m dating someone and you guys aren’t!”

Quirk: Habits or something he does which is unexpected?

He likes stargazing. It stems from his love/obsession of aliens, which continues to this day, but he realised how expansive and beautiful space is. He becomes quiet every time he gazes up to the night sky, his thoughts just drifting away.

Some of the constellations have fun myths behind them which he enjoys as well. He sometimes recites it for you as a nighttime story, to help you fall asleep.

You bought him a projector once as a present. It now illuminates your bedroom every night.

Relax: What activities do you do with him to relax?

Going to a spa together, getting facials and massages. Oikawa cares a lot about his beauty and the state of his muscles, so a spa is one of his favourite places in the world. 

He would talk to you for the entire massage, saying random and stupid things which makes you laugh and move around a lot. You have to apologise to the masseurs all the time, even though they’ve become used to it.

Support: How supportive is he of your dreams? What do you do for him?

Oikawa constantly reassures and cheers for you as you do for him. He gives you tips and hacks on solving certain problems or brings you your favourite food to bring your mood up.  

He has unwavering faith in your words and pushes you to finish the assignments to the best of your abilities. If you’re getting burnt out, then he just takes you off the laptop and makes you sleep.

For him, he loves seeing your face in the bleachers, calling out and screaming for him. It fills him with extra energy which helps him nail a service ace.

Talk: What does he like talking about?

What it would be like if you stayed with him forever. He loves imagining a future with you, from a year to a decade to the moment he dies. 

“My best traits are my sappiness and my love for you, [Name]-chan!”

He sees older couples doing little activities together and takes photos and sends them to you with “Maybe we can do that!”

Umbrella: What’s his favourite weather/season?

A day with a clear sky, not a single cloud to be seen anywhere. But the sun isn’t too hot either, just the right temperature. The breeze will be light, cooling him down to a perfect temperature.

He’ll lay with you in the back porch, just staring up to the sky in silence. His hand will be linked to yours and eventually fall into an afternoon nap. It’ll be nighttime when he wakes up but you’ll still be sleeping. Then he carries you inside to the bed and starts cooking dinner.

Vaunt: Does he like showing you off?

So much. So, so much. Once Oikawa starts talking about how amazing you are, he’s not going to shut up for another half an hour or so. The record, timed by you, was 47 minutes and 23 seconds. 

The other person will literally start walking away and he won’t notice.

After his long and emotional speech with no audience, his expression will turn into that pea-eyed face (☉_☉) and he’d be like “where’d they go?”

World: Where does he take you for vacation?

A new place for both of you, a country where anything and everything can happen. On the rare occasions he gets a long time off, he makes sure to create new memories for you.

He even bought one of those scratch-off maps to record all the places you visited with him. Most of South America is done and he hopes to finish the U.S. soon.

He loves meeting new people or learning new customs and knows you love them as well. He especially loves how your eyes light up when you see amazing landscapes and beautiful festivals.

X-ray: What happens when you’re injured or sick?

If it’s a simple cold, then he tries to cheer you up by being bright and happy while taking care of you. Feeding you plenty of food and water, bringing you medicine, watching TV shows together, a perfect experience.

If you’re hospitalised, then he’s instantly crushed and cannot function. He spends every single second he can next to your bed and holds your hand, pressing kisses onto it. 

Waterworks starts the moment you wake up and he becomes a leech, pressing himself to your body and refusing to let go.

Yearn: How much does he miss/pine for you when apart?

He texts you every chance he gets, updating you on the most mundane and little things in his life. It’s because he knows you enjoy them, learning about his life away from you and all the new people he met.

He once received a little plushie version of you from his fans, modelled after one of his photos with you on social media, and he sleeps with it every day. Every night before he goes to sleep, he sends you a selfie with something like “:( Nothing beats the original though <3”.

ZZZ: Does he have sleeping habits?He’d want to wait a bit even if he did. 

Covers you with his body regardless of the season and hugs you so tightly against him that it feels like you’re in the grasps of an octopus. It’s great in winter but really annoying in summer, especially if it’s a humid day and you’re both sweating.

Even if you try to push him off, his iron grip on you doesn’t relax and somehow even tightens. After weeks of that, you basically just gave up and invested in better air conditioning.

[makoto-nanami]

Miraculous Rewrite: Origins Part 2 (Chapter 5)

Been a long time... whoops... Welp, Adrien and Marinette meet, Chloe attempts to threaten Alice (fails badly fyi) and Alya makes bad life preserving choices! Have fun!! Also if Alice seems harsh this chapter, the people who need to listen aren’t listening and she has to deal with dumb people, you’d be stressed too! It’ll get better by the end of Part 2 I swear!

Marinette storms into the classroom glaring at the boy, ah jeez not good. “Hey! What are you doing?” Adrien struggles to answer the angry girl, confusion crossing his face, I let go of his arm and raise my hand to cover my cringe at the situation. Chloé and Sabrina laugh at the girl, I don’t see what’s so funny, it’s disgusting and unsanitary. Marinette looked at the two girls before her eyes widen in realisation at what she thinks has happened. “Okay. I get it. Good job, you three. Very funny.” Her voice blunt and tired, upon looking closer she looked a little red around the eyes like she had been crying and a little sleep deprived, I couldn’t help but avert my gaze in guilt.

Adrien tries to defuse the situation, grabbing Marinette’s attention. “No, no, I was just trying to take it off!” I step forward.

“Wait, Marinette, he’s…” I’m cut off by the two witches cackling even louder.

“Look, Alice. I appreciate you trying to look out for me, but just stop.” The blunette avoids my face as she stresses. She spins to face Adrien. “And you! You’re friends with Chloé, right?” Adrien looks at her in shock.

“Why do people keep saying that?” He whispers, but Marinette hears him and scoffs, returning to her seat before pulling out a tissue and covering the disgusting blubber. Adrien looks to me as if asking for help. I stare at him.

“After school. Kid… Get new friends.” He looks even more shocked and the blond witch glared at me.

“What? Do I need to teach you to respect me too? Adrien is way out of your league!” Her shrill voice worsening my already growing headache.

“Oh Chloé, I assure you, if you try that with me, I promise you’ll regret it.”

“Is that a threat Wattson? I’ll have you know my Daddy, THE MAYOR, can have you deported you know!”

“Yeah, but I’m sure you’re Daddy would be thrilled to hear that his daughter is trying to put bodily fluids onto people. If your fathers not interested, I’d be happy to spread that info around to everyone who is, and let’s say I do somehow get deported, I’ll happily plead my case and sue your precious daddy. I may not like lawyers, but I know a few who have a licence to practice globally, plus… I wonder what kind of dirt I could pick up on poor Mayor Bourgeois before I am deported huh?” I sneer at the blond in front of me as she huffs and goes back to her seat. Adrien looks at me as if disappointed in the way I handled the situation. While I may have been a little overdramatic, for people like her, you have to be or else they don’t get it. Not doing anything, let alone not saying anything would be worse! Also… I can’t afford to be deported because some rich brat is throwing a tantrum, I better try to dig up some dirt on the family, for insurance. I take my seat in the back and watch the two interact with their seatmates… I sigh… teenagers.

Bustier walks in and greets the class with a smile like nothing happened yesterday. I look to Ivan and notice he’s not in his seat. Where is he… Oh no… this feeling, it’s gotten to the same intensity as yesterday. An Akuma? Could it be…

“Agreste, Adrien?” Bustier called, patiently waiting for him to answer. I need to get out of here, with them. Nino leans over and whispers into the boy’s ear, only for him to jump up eagerly with his hand raised. “Uh, present!” He squeaks, the others laugh at him, his cheeks turning red as he sits down and fist bumps his seatmate, hey… at least he’s following my advice, wait, no, focus Alice, gotta hurry.

Bustier giggles at him, moving onto the next name. “Bourgeois, Chloé?” Chloé says present back to the woman and I raise my hand nervously.

“Miss? Erm, may I go to the toilet?” Alice? Toilet break… five minutes after class starts? Really?

“You should have gone before class. Let me get through attendance and today's task, and then you may go.” Marinette turns her head to look at me suspiciously. “Bruel, Ivan?”

Suddenly, the Akuma from yesterday, busts down the door, crap, too late! “Present! Mylène?” The giant scans the chaotic classroom, people running away from the room. Adrien jumps over his desk and runs out of the classroom. “Wait!” I try to get his attention, but he’s too quick, at least he’s quick to react. Ivan, no Stoneheart spots Mylène and reaches to grab her.

“Let go of me, Ivan!” She screams, but not in pain, even when taken over, he’s still so gentle…

“I’m not Ivan anymore. I’m Stoneheart!”

“Why are you doing this?”

“So you and I can be together forever!” Anger fills me, a part of me remembers that this isn’t how the Moth Miraculous should be used, it allows those possessed to reveal and obtain their true desires, but not like this tainted with darkness, instead of loving her, the Akuma has made him obsessive.

My anger is interrupted by the annoying ring of Mayor’s Brat on her phone, speaking loudly… is she that stupid? “Daddy, the monster is back!” Stoneheart growls at the girl and grabs her tightly, making her let out a small shriek of pain. He breaks the wall of the classroom and jumps down onto the street level, crap oh crap… that’s a problem. I turn to Marinette to find her cowering under the desk, the same fog in her eyes from yesterday lingered, swirling in deep fear. Alya slides to see her with a grin. “Come on! Let’s follow him!” She’s almost vibrating from the excitement; does she not care that her classmate is probably going through the roughest time of his life?!

“Uh… Oh, no. You go. I’m finding myself a safe place to hide.” She stutters. Alya just shakes her in her excitement.

“Girl, you’re gonna miss Ladybug in action!” Marinette looks at the bag on the table before picking up, it’s Alya’s bag. Wait… the energy coming from it… no! That idiot!

“You and Ladybug will both be better off without me…” She murmurs, ashamed of her past mistakes. She holds the bag out for Alya to take. The fangirl just shrugs ignoring the girl’s gesture and runs out the room. I sigh in relief but Marinette panics running after her. “Wait! Your bag!”

I run after her, taking my hoodie out of my bag and wrapping it around me. Marinette notices me and cries in annoyance and frustration. “Why are you following me? I told you to leave me alone!”

“Well if you would just listen to me instead of wallowing in self-pity, I’d be happy to! What the hell do you think you’re trying to do?! You can’t just give away your Miraculous to some girl!” I know this makes me sound like a hypocrite, but now is not the time!

“H-how did you know?! And self-pity?! I failed, what else could I do!” I was about to answer, but we were coming closer to Alya who had started filming the disaster in front of her.

“You have no idea who you’re dealing with. My daddy, the mayor, will bring in the police, the army, the entire cavalry!” I’m pretty sure he already has… Swinging in on his baton, Chat hits Stoneheart only making him bigger.

“And don’t forget the superheroes! …Oh no. My bad…”

“Ugh. Super incompetent, you mean!” Chloé screams at him.

“Focus Chat! Just keep dodging!” I shout out, he nods, not taking his eyes off the giant golem.

“Ugh! You wanted the cavalry? Well, here it is!” Crap, I hear the rumbling of the smaller giants running amok and they begin to surround Chat. “Seize him!” I dodge the ones that run in from behind us, Marinette curls up into a ball, making herself as small as she could to avoid the stampede, while Alya jumped onto the pavement. Mylène screams.

“Ivan! Where are we going?” Terror clouding her eyes.

“To deliver a message. Then we’ll be brought together forever by a pretty black butterfly!” A message? From who? My thoughts cut short by his other captive.

“Ugh. All this lovey-dovey stuff is making me sick.” Is she trying to get killed?

“Don't worry, little monster. I'm gonna take care of you, too.” Chloé cringes at the implications behind Stoneheart’s words as they get away.

I turn my attention back to Chat and notice Alya moving closer, what the hell is she doing?! Chat is suddenly slammed to the ground, holding them back with his baton. “If you can hear me, Ladybug, I could use a little help!” His voice strained and they begin to pile on top of his stick. Suddenly one of the giants flip over a car, sending it flying towards Alya, I reach out in vain, but the boy quickly throws his stick to save her, however, it still pins her, and the baton is slipping. The giants grab Chat and carry him away. “Let go, let go of me you rockhead!”

“HELP!!” She screams. I turn to the frozen Marinette, she stares at the trapped girl conflicted on what to do, her body twitching as if trying to react. I skid in front of her and shake her.

“I- I… It’s all my fault if I had given it to her sooner… If I had become Ladybug…”

“Oh, my Kwami! Will you quit it with the pity party! Marinette, you made a mistake, so what! You have the power and ability to fix that, so what exactly is stopping you?! Your partner and friend need you! I know you’re scared but you need to be brave! Marinette, what do you want to do?!” Her eyes instantly clear up, burning with courage and determination, that-a-girl! She pulls the box out of Alya’s bag and puts on the Miraculous. Tikki zooming out with a smile, happy to see her chosen again.

“I think I need Ladybug!” Tikki’s eyes brightened at Marinette’s words.

“I knew you’d come around!” Marinette shook her head and looked at me.

“Well… I’m still not sure I’m up for this, but… Alya’s in danger! I can’t sit back and do nothing! I want to save her!” I smile, understanding her desire and fears.

“You know the magic words then!”

“Tikki, spots on!”

[drawlfoy]

Kricowl

masterlist

request guidelines

yes i’m actually back now lol

also this gif is the most adorable thing i’ve ever laid eyes on i love it to the pit of my soul 

pairing: draco x grangertwin!reader

request: yes! thank you!

summary: reader is a gryffindor along with hermione. she originally shares her twin sister’s feelings about draco, but then when she sees something one day her opinions change...but the question is will it be mutual?

warnings: cursing. if you’ve read any fics before you know me well enough by now to assume

a/n: heyyy i’m back!! i finished my act on saturday without too much trouble. i either did really well or painfully mediocre. it totally depends on how good my guessing skills were that day. also, i’ve started a new job, which has been fun but has also filled up my schedule more than i would’ve liked. i’m back now, and you’ll notice that my fics are a little longer. i’m no longer planning on publishing 1-2 fics a day. instead i think i’ll write longer ones over the span of a couple days. thanks for reading, and as always, requests are open! i’ll try to burn through my current ones too, so if you’re still waiting on a request, it’ll be out in the near future!

music recs: i’m literally listening to creepy reddit stories asmr lol

word count: 4,317 (wow! longest one shot i’ve written!)

“Y/N!”

Hermione’s voice rang out from across the courtyard, pulling Y/N’s attention away from the little robin chirping excitedly at her from the bushes. 

“We’re waiting!”

Y/N rolled her eyes. Hermione and her obsessive scheduling.

“I’ll meet you there later, ‘Mione! I’m busy right now!” she yelled back, hoping that the robin wouldn’t fly away from her raised voice.

“Suit yourself!” 

With that, Hermione dragged Ron and Harry off to somewhere else, no doubt the library. Or perhaps the kitchens, if it was Ron putting the destination requests in. 

Y/N turned back to the robin in bush, still waiting and staring at her expectantly.

“You’re a smart little thing, aren’t you?” she cooed, fishing through her pockets. The packet she was looking for was in there somewhere. 

As she searched, she noted that the robin had an interesting mark on his orange chest--an odd sprinkling of grey feathers across the middle. The color difference only served to make the little bird more endearing.

Y/N’s fingers closed around the packet, sighing in relief and pulling it out.

The robin chirped when it saw the crushed peanuts, hopping on a branch just a tad closer.

“Easy, there,” she mumbled. “Give me a moment, darling. I just need to open it.”

Once she succeeded, she placed the peanuts on a branch close to the robin, smiling as the bird hopped closer and began to feast. 

“What are you doing?” 

Y/N spun around to see the last person she wanted to see--a confused but flushed Draco Malfoy, wearing that stupid fur hat and black leather gloves to ward off the cold weather.

“Being a charitable person, Malfoy,” Y/N snapped back, motioning to the bird, who was just about to finish up the peanuts.

“No!”

Y/N jumped, shocked at the sudden burst of energy from Malfoy. She watched, stunned, as the blonde boy leapt forward, snatching the bird before it could fly away.

“What the fuck, Mal-”

“Are you trying to kill this poor thing?!”  Malfoy cut into her exclamation. He was suddenly frantic, attempting to steady the bird in one hand and locate his wand in the other.

“What are you talking about? I feed robins peanuts all the time, they love them.”

“Are you daft, Y/N?” Malfoy snapped. “This isn’t a robin! Look at the grey feathers on its chest! This is a Kricowl, it’s not a robin! It’s deathly allergic to peanuts!”

“A what?”

“Shut up and grab my wand out of my pocket!”

Y/N had never seen her arch-nemesis look so scared as she reached in his pocket. The lining of his pockets was soft and felt obnoxiously expensive. His coat probably cost more than the price of everything in her room combined.

She pressed his wand into his free hand and watched as he pressed the bird down on the table next to them, muttering incoherent spells under his breath. Within a few seconds, the bird opened its mouth and began heaving, chunks of peanut coming out completely undigested. 

Stealing a look at Malfoy’s face, Y/N was stunned to see how concerned he looked for the little bird, even going as far as to reach out and stroke the soft, orange belly of the Kricowl. She could’ve sworn that she heard him whisper a pained “don’t you worry, you’ll be alright”.

Once the bird had seemed to expel all of the nuts it had consumed, Malfoy turned to her again.

“Go to the potion supply cupboard and bring back some knotgrass, you hear me?” 

Y/N turned and sprinted to the potions classroom, her sassy comebacks dying on the inside of her cheeks. It had become abundantly clear to her that Malfoy was not messing with her--why else would he have asked her to reach into his pocket?

She returned a few moments later, holding the knotgrass out to the blonde. He grabbed one of the leaves, twisting it over the bird’s mouth and landing a drop of something into its open beak. 

Within seconds, the bird was back on its feet and flying up, far away from both of the students.

“I had no idea,” Y/N breathed. 

“I mean...” Malfoy gave her a sideways glance. “I can’t blame you. It’s not like it’s your fault you were born inferior.”

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek as she thought. 

“But it’s your fault you’re such an intolerant ass,” Y/N responded. “I bet that Kicrowl is the only thing on this campus that appreciates you.”

“Kricowl. And thank you for your input, I value it so, so highly.”

With that, the blonde huffed and turned, sauntering off to wherever rich purebloods went after they said their mandatory bigoted remark of the day.

♥♥♥♥

Y/N had only ever spoken to Pansy Parkinson directly once, and that was plenty enough for her, thank you very much. Her vile nature was something that made Y/N wish she was a Kricowl gorging itself on peanuts. The one time they interacted had been when Parkinson had sat in Y/N’s newly assigned seat in potions in the beginning of term. Y/N had kindly asked for her to move, to which she had responded, “Sorry, I have trouble hearing those with with bad breeding. Can you come again?”

Y/N had sat in a different chair that day and for the rest of the days remaining. It wasn’t that she was afraid of Parkinson--no, she just had better things to do. It was so much more fun to goof off with Harry, Hermione, and Ron than to sit and plot her revenge. That was a Slytherin school of thought, and there was a reason why Y/N was a Gryffindor along with her sister. 

Unfortunately, she was unable to keep this quiet streak going with Parkinson. 

It was a crisp February morning, and Y/N was on her way to her first class when she heard yelling from her left. Swinging around. she saw Pansy shrieking at a pair of two young Hufflepuffs. She moved closer to investigate and soon realized that a crowd was forming around them, a group of interested students who were too afraid to step in. The Slytherins were grouped on one end, laughing like sadists and watching as Pansy’s comments caused one of the girls to start tearing up. 

Y/N moved closer, leaning her head in to hear what they were saying.

“-and YOU have the audacity to trip me!”

“It was a mistake, I swear! Like I said, I didn’t mean to!” the young Hufflepuff cried out, her voice jumping up a few octaves.

“No matter! I’m not attending a school where Hufflepuff halfbloods can get in my wa-”

“Excuse me?”

Y/N stepped into the circle the students had formed before she could stop herself, bracing herself for the impact to come. 

“I don’t believe I was talking to you, mudblood,” Pansy spat, digging her heels in and puffing out her chest.

Ignoring what the pureblood had just said to her, Y/N began, addressing everyone standing around the scene.

“Listen, can we just admit what Pansy is too embarrassed to?” 

Whispers began filling the crowd. Pansy looked like she didn’t quite know what to do.

“The Hufflepuffs didn’t trip her,” Y/N said, motioning to the two quivering girls next to her. “It’s her heels. We’ve all seen it. Pansy can’t walk in them, but she still insists on wearing them every day.”

Pansy stiffened up, glaring at Y/N, and then trying to glance anonymously at her feet, clad in heels that were ill suited for school. Everyone else in the crowd did the exact same thing. Laughter rippled through the courtyard as people began to remember all the times they saw Pansy stumble around in her shoes. 

Pansy turned a tomato red, spinning around and darting off, at least as fast as she was able considering her footwear. 

Y/N turned and left as well, but not before she noticed a pair of steel-grey eyes staring curiously at her. 

♥♥♥♥

As the days grew longer, Y/N became aware of Pansy’s wrath. The brunette would show up out of nowhere and mess with her by casting little spells to cause embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions or ruin her hair day and even trying to trip her herself. 

Y/N, on the other hand, had other things to be concerned with. 

One day in Charms class, Y/N found herself staring at a certain boy across the room as he lazily practiced Aquamenti.

His pale, slender fingers loosely gripped his wand while his cheek rested on his other hand, tilting his head slightly to the side. There was a peculiar way in which he scrunched his nose as he cast the spell over and over again, each time performing it perfectly. 

Y/N allowed herself to gaze at him for as long as it took for him to fully fill the goblet in front of him with water from the repeated Aquamenti charm, and when Malfoy finally lifted his head up from his hand and glanced over in her direction, she snapped back to attention, pretending to be intently practicing the spell herself.

Gulping, Y/N tried to fight back the blush that rose on her cheeks as she felt the boy’s eyes drag over her. Was he looking at her? She couldn’t say for sure, she was trying so hard to pretend like she hadn’t just been caught staring that she couldn’t naturally look up to see where Malfoy was looking, not now. 

She froze in her chair as she noticed the blonde get up from his chair and make his way over in her general direction.

No, no, no, there was no way, you’re just overanalyzing, there’s no reason why he’d come over here. 

Turning her head, she pretended to rummage through her satchel to pull out a quill for no real reason.

“Is there something in my teeth? Or do you just have a problem with my wand work?”

Y/N jolted, snapping her head back up to see Malfoy standing before her, calmly staring down at her. He was, impressively, much taller than she was. 

This is no time to be thinking of that.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Y/N rolled her quill in between her fingers under the table in an attempt to her hide her nervousness.

“Oh? So why were you staring at me?” Malfoy adopted a rather amused face as Y/N was taken aback from his forwardness.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she retorted, setting her jaw and placing a hand on her hip. 

Malfoy’s lip quirked as he looked her up and down, apparently thinking about what he was going to say next. 

“Whatever you say, Y/N.” 

With that, Malfoy stalked back to his rightful desk, leaving Y/N shocked at the fact that he called her something other than Granger.

♥♥♥♥

It had taken Y/N a while, but when all she could think about was how soft Draco’s hair would feel if she ran her fingers through it, she had to admit that she had begun to nurture a crush on the intolerable pureblood. 

She didn’t know what started it, but she had a hunch that it had to do with his actions that day on the courtyard where he saved that bird, whispering those gentle phrases to it when he thought she couldn’t hear. Or perhaps it was the fact that he was referring to her by her first name now, and the way that it rolled off his tongue was so enticing--so pristine that it made her feel lucky.

She knew it wasn’t right. It was immoral to fall for the boy who had made her sister’s life hell for the better part of 5 years. She knew better than her inner instincts to save the “bad” boy. She knew that Draco was very popular with girls and that if she wanted him, she’d have to get in the back of a very impressive line of girls with more money and better families. 

But a stubborn part of her prodded these doubts away, reminding her of how many times she thought she had seen Draco staring at her out of the corner of her eye, how many times he “accidentally” brushed past her in the hallway. Granted, all of the incidents could’ve been sheer luck and, besides, she was far too shy to talk to him anyways.

So, as any rational 15 year old girl would do, she decided that there was no harm in pursuing him in her imagination. The deal was simple--she wouldn’t make a single move on him in real life, but her daydreams were fair game.

And so, it began. Y/N spent those few precious moments before she drifted off into sleep indulging in her most shameful desires. She imagined what it would feel like to run her fingers through the Slytherin Prince’s hair, to softly trace the outlines of his cheekbones. She wondered if his hands would be cool or warm to the touch, whether or not the icy paleness of his skin was any indicator to either of the options. She imagined that his skin would be soft from the expensive wizard soaps he’d use religiously. She imagined how he’d take his tea--strong with no sugar. 

Her feelings began to collide with reality whenever she ran into Draco in classes, He seemed more interested in tormenting the Golden Trio than he was in the earlier part of the year, forcing Y/N to acknowledge the uglier side of the boy whose lovely eyes she dreamed of at night. However, to her surprise, he never once uttered the word “mudblood” in her presence. In fact, she couldn’t even pinpoint the last time he had said it. 

His taunts became less about her sister’s blood inferiority, morphing into rather clever, witty, and biting remarks about the trio’s irritating amount of self-importance and righteousness. 

As much as Y/N hated to admit it, she agreed with some of it. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were all lovely people, but she often felt left out. Since Hermione had met them first, they grew closer to each other than they did to Y/N. They were plenty civil to her, but not as interested in actually being her real friend.

Not that she didn’t mind too much. She already got enough attention being vaguely connected to Harry. She didn’t know how she could handle being a target for all the anti-Potter propaganda and was much more content being as off the map and incognito as possible. 

But at the same time, it was a little sad whenever she saw the trio gain all the glory. They’d sneak into the common room late at night every once in a while, giddily whispering about some secret mission they were on that Hermione refused to tell her twin. 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she would always say. “It’s just that if you were to slip anything to the wrong type, we’d be in big trouble.”

So in other words, Hermione just didn’t trust her to stay quiet. 

♥♥♥♥

Y/N laid on her back, staring up at her dorm ceiling and wishing for sleep to take her away. She’d accidentally blown up at ‘Mione when her sister had made a rather condescending remark regarding her potion brewing skills by telling Ron to not copy Y/N’s movements because “there’s no telling if she’s even remotely following the directions”. 

Y/N had snapped and told her sister off, calling her an insecure prick that only felt smart when she was putting herself above others.

“You know,” Y/N had told her, “people who are actually wise don’t feel the need to boast about it.”

Hermione had turned beet red, huffing and putting her back to her sister. Not a single member of the Golden Trio attempted to talk to Y/N after that, not even during meals. 

The true weight of her mistake was now heavy on her chest as she came to the realization that some of the most well known and well liked kids in her house were no longer speaking to her and that this was causing a good portion of her other friends to regard her with caution. She had eaten in silence that evening, studied in solitude, and sat up in her bed alone instead of joining the congregation in the common room. 

Now, not even her imaginary Draco would concern himself with her as she lay in the dark.

You git she thought. I created you, and this is how you repay me?

She’d been in her dorm for over three hours now. Sleep absolutely refused to pull her away, restlessness instead welcoming her with its open yet uncomfortable arms. Her sheets were far too warm for a spring evening and she had turned her pillow over to the cold side so many times that there was no cold side left to speak of.

Finally, with nowhere else to go, she decided to just get out of bed and take a walk. The brisk air would do her nothing but good, and if she was caught by a member of the inquisitorial squad, then at least she’d have some human contact to speak of for the day. 

♥♥♥♥

Y/N found herself at the top of the Astronomy Tower, absentmindedly looking for constellations and failing miserably. She’d nearly failed any question on an exam pertaining to astrological features. 

There was something relaxing and careless about the soft breeze licking at her face. It reminded her that nature didn’t care about her shortcomings or her sharp tongue. She was alive and breathing, and that’s all it took for the universe to allow her to see a beautiful night sky full of stars.

“I never thought of you as someone who breaks curfew.”

The familiar, snooty tone of Draco Malfoy’s voice broke the comforting silence. 

“Aahh!” Y/N yelped, jumping and grabbing onto the railing to prevent her from falling to her death. “Don’t sneak up on me anymore! I could’ve died!”

Draco let out a dark chuckle, propping his own arm on the railing and looking her up and down.

“Well, rest assured,” he told her. “I’m not the one with the murder plot. That’s Pansy. Watch your goblet in the dining hall, will you?”

Y/N couldn’t decipher if he was telling the truth or not, but looking him up and down, she observed that there wasn’t a trace of malice in his expression.

“Are you telling me the truth?” she asked, feeling her defensiveness drain out of her tone.

“Believe it or not, yeah,” Draco drawled, shifting his position so his elbow was supporting his body weight on the railing and his chin was being propped up by his hand in a very similar fashion to that one time in Charms. Now his height was a little closer to Y/N’s, and she could look him in the eyes without turning her chin up too far. “She won’t shut up about how she’s learned how to brew this potion that’ll make all your hair fall out or something. So just...I don’t know, watch out.”

“Aren’t you gonna take me to Umbridge?” Y/N asked, forgetting what he was telling her once she saw the moonlight reflecting off of his inquisitorial squad badge.

“Nah, I’m not in the mood to see that hag tonight.”

A laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it. 

“Oh. Thank you.”

The words felt foreign to Y/N. Things had really taken a turn for the worst--she had spent the past two months relentlessly daydreaming of the boy who bullied her twin, and now she was thanking him. 

Silence hung between the two, and to make things a little less awkward, Y/N turned her body away from him to look up at the sky. 

“Kill any Kricowls recently?” Y/N nearly jumped again when she felt a finger lightly poke her arm.

“Oh....no, I haven’t been feeding any birds peanuts anymore,” she confessed, turning again to meet the boy’s eyes. “I’m starting to realize how much I don’t actually know about the world.”

Draco regarded her curiously for a few moments.

“You’re nothing like your sister, you know,” he finally told her. 

“What do you mean?” Y/N couldn’t decide if this was a compliment or a thinly veiled slight.

“I mean, you accept the fact that there are things that you may not know,” he began. “I’ll be completely honest--I don’t tease Grang--your sister because of her blood type. That played a role when I was a little younger, but now it’s more because she’s an insufferable know it all that’s all holier-than-thou and probably wouldn’t have even let me get close to that Kricowl.”

“I can’t stand her sometimes,” Y/N whispered, looking down at the floor so she wouldn’t have to meet Draco’s piercing eyes. “I know it’s awful because I support the political cause that they support but they’re so...exclusive. I make one mistake and I’m out. There’s no room for accidents when you’re not in the trio.”

From her vantage point, she could see Draco nervously rolling his wand around in his free hand. 

“They aren’t very respectful to you,” he said after a few painful seconds of silence. 

“Well, it’s not like you’re a saint either.” Y/N dared to glance up at him to see a glimmer of hurt flash across his face.

“I know.” He shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry.” 

Y/N, stunned, jerked her head back up.

“You’re what?”

“Merlin, I didn’t think it was that monumental,” Draco mumbled. “I said, I’m sorry. Please forgive me for whatever nasty things I’ve said to you in the past. I’ve been trying to read more about why pureblood prejudice is the way it is, and I learned that.....er...”

Y/N noticed that he was struggling to get out what he was saying.

“You can’t tell anyone this, not right now at least, alright?” Draco nervously stuck his hand out. 

“Sure I won’t.” Y/N took his hand and shook it, noticing how she was right--his hand was soft and supple, warm enough to be pleasant but not enough to be sweaty. 

“Well I did some more research, and I learned that my family actually has some muggle blood in it...like, there’s a lot of half-bloods that married muggles and branched out, but they were still Malfoys at birth.”

Y/N gaped at him.

“And I don’t really enjoy hypocrisy, so I’ve...er...been kind of trying to reconstruct my political views.” 

“Good for you.” 

Y/N sat there for a little bit, grappling with all the information he’d just told her.

“Pinch me.” Her voice rang out before she could stop it.

“What?” Draco stared at her in wide-eyed confusion.

“It’s a muggle thing,” she told him. “Pinch me to prove I’m not dreaming. A Malfoy just told me that he wants to get over his blood prejudice, so yeah, forgive me if I’m a little surprised.”

“So you think you’re dreaming about me, huh?” A smirk appeared on his face.

“No, you...ugh! That’s not what it means at all!” She rolled her eyes to hide the fact that her cheeks were growing redder by the second.

“Well, you can’t blame me for being curious,” he said to her, his tone noticeably lower. Draco took his hand off the railing, rising up to his original height before stepping nearer to her. He was much closer than he should’ve been for a simple conversation. “You think I haven’t noticed how much you watch me?”

“I have no clue as to what you’re referring to.” She fought to keep her tone steady as he inched even closer. 

“Oh, I think you do.” He paused after ducking his head down to be eye level with her. “See, you’re blushing.”

“It’s dark out,” she said lamely. There was no way that this was real. She had to be dreaming.

“And? Still doesn’t change the fact that your cheeks are significantly darker than the rest of your face.”

“What are you trying to do?” Y/N surrendered, leaving his statement out to hang in the air unanswered.

“This.” 

He suddenly darted forward, his hands curling around her sides and his lips aiming for hers. 

“Stop!”

Y/N pushed back at his chest, holding her head back out of reach and glaring at him. 

His face looked immeasurably pained as he retracted his hands, putting them back in their pocket.

“I thought you wanted...”

“Maybe I do,” she told him, taking a step back. “But not right now. You told me that I had inferior breeding less than 6 months ago. I need some time. Please.”

Draco opened and closed his mouth a couple times, clearly not expecting this reaction. 

“I know what this is, Draco,” she told him, softer this time. “I know you’re trying to ease your guilty conscience by doing,” she motioned to the space between the two of them, “this. I’m not interested in that right now, understand? I haven’t forgiven you yet for all of those things you’ve done to my sister.”

He dipped his head down, clearly ashamed to have been caught in the act.

“I really don’t think that that’s it, though,” he said after drawing in a shaky breath. “I’ve always been...interested, but I could never allow myself to act on it, but now that I feel as though my beliefs are evolving...”

“That’s good, Draco, that really is,” Y/N soothed, stepping back towards him. “But I still need time. And so do you, to make sure you’re not fabricating all of this to hide your guilt.”

“That’s not at al--nevermind. You’re right.”

Y/N was struck with the thought that this was the first time she’d heard the words “you’re right” come out of Draco’s mouth in a situation where he wasn’t mocking someone or being sarcastic. 

“Can I take you to Hogsmeade, at least? This Saturday?” He swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I have a better idea. What can Kricowls be fed?”

final a/n: feel free to berate me on how ooc this draco is... i couldn’t possibly bear to write some kind of kiss or any real physical intimacy in the end because i don’t think that draco would change that quickly and i definitely don’t think he’d have this level of an existential crisis regarding his blood purity before his task in 6th year. for this reason, i don’t think i’ll be continuing this fic as it’s already long enough and i don’t fancy writing more ooc draco, as cute as the request was. so if you requsted this....please don’t feel bad! i’m sorry if i didn’t give you what you wanted. i might rewrite this one a little later when i have more time and when i can do another series because i think if i were to rewrite this, i would make it much longer and give draco 2x as much time to grow up and redeem himself. ok, that’s all, thank you for reading!

[dreamweaversofficial]

Year Two, Chapter Two

“What if swans were called ‘dwans’?” Garen asks. Lyric stares at him, which he apparently takes as an invitation to continue. “What if one was called Dwan the rock by his friends. His last name will be Johnson, for no apparent reason.”

“Dwan the rock Johnson,” Lyric repeats.

“Yes.”

She presses her index fingers to her lips. Pulls them away slowly. Sighs. “I feel like you’re not taking my emotional turmoil seriously.”

“I feel like you’re not taking Dwan the rock Johnson seriously,” he replies.

Pouting, Lyric slides towards the opposite end of the couch. “I’m serious! Bad enough you have to leave, but to be stuck with short, dark and edgy?”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Garen says sympathetically, offering her a single shoulder pat, “but you’re shorter than her by a solid inch and a half.”

“I catalogue that inch and a half once a month,” she hisses through clenched teeth.

“I know,” Garen soothes. “It’s creepy and obsessive.”

“Go away.”

Her friend makes a note on a yellow pad. “I’m just saying that if I indulged you every time you wanted to talk about Reema, we’d discuss her for hours.”

“Ugh,” Lyric says definitively, and turns regretfully back to her textbook.

Dreamweaver training was sparse, with only the most necessary precautions covered, the text reads. Non-magical humans needed more protection than the few available dreamweavers could give. This occasionally led to rifts between the communities, with magical families attempting to strike the balance between keeping themselves and loved ones safe while protecting the world from dreameaters.

However, as more and more magical children began popping up (see A History of Dreamweaving, A. J. Kerint) more funding was provided. One of magical history’s most famous financial backers, the King family, supplied most of the funds to build Mentality when several of their own were revealed to possess magical abilities.

“The Kings?” she says aloud, wrinkling her nose. “Like Cirro?”

Garen snorts. “Exactly like Cirro. His great-grandfather is a big shot around here.”

“He never mentions it,” Lyric mutters. “You’d expect that to be the kind of thing someone flaunts.”

“I think they’re -”

A resounding crash shakes the room. The textbook flies out of Lyric’s hands, crumpling the inside, and Garen whacks his arm against the wall. She dashes over and picks it up, frantically smoothing the wrinkled pages. He rubs his shoulder with a hiss.

“You good?”

“Sore, but I’ll live. You?”

“Alright,” Lyric replies, eyes darting to the door. “Do you think we could be under attack?”

“Impossible,” Garen refutes, though his face goes slightly pale. “Mentality’s warded to high heaven.”

Mentality is warded to high heaven. It’s also the last place a dreameater hoard would swarm - no non-magical dreams to feed off of. Dreamweavers, in the case of the prophetic track, siphon dreams off of normal humans. Otherwise, dreaming is minimal. There’s nothing that would lure the creatures to the school.

Still, the thought chafes at Lyric like an uncomfortable sweater she wishes she could shrug off. Garen hesitantly opens the door. The hallway’s empty but for a few tentative second years glancing through doorways, hazy smokescreen in place. Lyric curses herself for forgetting her magic.

“Let’s check it out,” she suggests. “We’ll be careful.”

“That’s an awful idea,” Garen argues, pulling on his sneakers. He rolls his eyes. “Let’s go.”

Smirking, Lyric follows him out the door, the two of them pulling shrouds of shadow around themselves. Concentrate, she tells herself firmly. Cool, dark, calm. Garen sticks close, glancing back occasionally to see if she’s following. Lyric places a hand on his back, lightly. I’m still here. Keep going.

It’s easy, the shadows. Too easy, at times, when the most she wants is to pull them around herself like a well-worn quilt. Light is harder - pushing through burning muscles, focusing a burst of energy into a single fingers, hot like the sun. Like she’s skimming her hand along the stove, close enough to warm but not to burn.

Her hand bumps solidly into Garen’s back. They’ve stopped.

“Garen?” she whispers, sidling out from behind him. “What -”

“Never, in all my years -” a woman is yelling, arms flung to the sky and voice high pitched. “A student do this much damage?”

Lyric finds herself thinking that she’s glad they’re covered. Then, when the teacher shifts and she sees the girl receiving the lecture, she finds herself thinking something else.

“A student,” Garen repeats, horror and awe-struck. “Sage skillets.”

“Miss Salten,” the professor continues, “Someone will be hearing about this!”

Lyric exhales. “Probably Cirro’s dad, if his family are coughing up the funds for repairs.”

“I hope not,” a voice says.

“Mercury’s left eye!” Lyric yelps, stifling herself with her palm. “Where did you come from?”

“You aren’t being all that quiet.” Cirro points out, hands jammed in his pockets, and cranes his neck to look at the scene. “What happened, an earthquake?”

Reema stands amidst deep cracks in the ground, scored into marble-like flooring. The divots start at her feet, slim, then widen into jagged, angry lines, stretching outward until they just barely touch Garen’s feet. She eyes the desolation as if admiring the artistry of it. As the professor yells, hands waving wildly, the girl takes a deep breath and smiles.

Lyric feels, suddenly and confusingly, like she’s going to throw up.

She wants away from the yelling, from Reema smiling with her eyes closed like she’d rather dig her nails into the floor and tear, from Cirro’s facade of boredom when he talks about his father. Lyric grabs Garen’s arm, and finds she can’t stomach the contact.

“I’m going back,” she whispers, releasing him.

He eyes her cautiously. “Want me to come with?”

“Nah,” she shakes her head. Brushing him off as politely as she can. “I’ll see you at the room later. Going for a walk.”

Garen rolls his shoulders back. “I’ll probably go out to the field.”

“You guys are so codependent,” Cirro complains, pushing himself off the wall and strolling back in the direction of the second year dorms.

“We’ve all got to have someone to care about,” Lyric mutters back. There’s no flinch, no tightening of his eyes, no clenching of fists. But somehow Lyric knows she’s hurt him - a comment for a comment. An eye for an eye.

The nausea grows worse, and she thinks about the ruined floor.

I’ll stop being a brat when everyone else does, she decides, settling into a nook by the door to the fields. Cirro passes by her, unseeing, his face drawn. He pauses a few steps away, and Lyric pulls the shadows back around her in thicker numbers. His pocket vibrates.

“Hello?” he says into the receiver, frowning. “Oh. Mom.”

There’s a pause. “So he’s heard - no. Of course not. Yeah, some girl in my grade. I don’t - who knows why. I guess she’s pretty good at runes, so that could be it.”

“It’s not -” Cirro presses the phone closer to his ear. He scuffs his shoe across the ground, rolling his shoulders back. “I guess she’d have to be pretty powerful. No. Associate with her? Gabriel’s tooth, you’ve got to be kidding. I’m not going to start - no. Yes, mother.”

His face pulls inwards. Like he’s striking the line between controlled and crushed, lids shuttering, body tensing. “My studies are going well. No, nobody’s beaten his score. My brother has ‘left a lasting mark on this institution’. Is that - that’s all?”

Lyric holds her breath as he exhales silently, relaxing his body.

“Goodbye. Give them my -” Here Cirro halts, pulls the phone away from his ear, and stares down at it. “Love.”

What is it with this year and hearing things I don’t want to? Lyric demands silently, pressing further back against the door. The swishing of fabric rustles down the hallway, and she dares to look, catching a glimpse of Salza.

“C?” Salza greets him, slowing her jog to a stop.

“Hey,” he says back. It’s a very good attempt at sounding okay. As if he was going for condescending and missed the mark.

She glares, but there’s no heat behind it. “Don’t give me that. What did he want now?”

“It was my mother,” Cirro replies, straightening. “An impromptu informal discussion.”

“You always talk like that when you get off the phone with one of them,” Salza muses sadly. “Come on.”

“Go back to your jog, or you might not make the team this year,” he spits.

Salza just links her arm through his, guiding him gently back into the dorms. “You’re my friend whether you want to admit it or not. And I’m yours. So just - follow my lead, okay?”

And as if the enticement to follow was the only thing he needed, Cirro deflates, and lets himself be carried along.

Teen drama is so much more complicated in this school.

.

.

.

“Listen up!” their professor announces, clapping his hands together. “Today, we’re having a special guest.”

Eyebrows raise, a few curious glances are thrown, and there’s an audible snort.

Professor Ozik casts an appraising eye around the room. “And by guest, I mean a dreameater.”

Chaos.

“What?” a girl at the back - Mandy? - screams, bolting out of her seat. A few others look like they share the sentiment, throwing their hands over their heads and ducking away. Reema’s eyes are wide and dark. Beside her, Devon’s shoulders are tense, face closed off. Salza and Cirro steal panicked, yet determined looks at each other, edging in front of their respective roommates.

Garen throws his chair aside, ready to cast a spell. Lyric hefts her notebook like it’ll have any effect. Her gaze flits to their instructor.

He’s grinning, somewhat sheepishly, at the class, and she calms. “It’s a drill.”

“Not exactly,” the professor admits, “but I swear it’s well contained. Nice reflexes, you three.”

Salza, Garen, and Cirro relax. With a flourish, Professor Ozik pulls a cage from under his desk. It’s covered with inscribed runes. Binding, keeping, holding, trapping. From inside it, shrieks ripple outward.

“Keep your wits about you!” Ozik yells, strapping earmuffs onto his head. “This is a siren!”

“What’s a siren?” Cirro’s roommate demands.

“A type of dreameater!” Salza calls back, hands over her ears and eyes snapped shut. “It lures you in with whatever attracts you!”

As if the creature can hear her, the cries turn from outraged to coaxing. The room starts to smell like sea salt. Plugging her nose, Lyric turns away, shaking her head. Idly, she wonders if the creature would feel like worn leather.

Cirro’s nose twitches. “Vanilla.”

“Does anybody else hear singing?” Salza’s roommate asks, eyes going dreamy. Salza attempts to cover their heads with their jackets.

Garen stands stock still at his desk. His hands don’t cover his ears, instead drooping at his sides, and he sniffs the air suspiciously. “I don’t smell anything, and I certainly can’t hear over the awful screeching.”

Oh, Lyric thinks, and a second later, Garen says aloud, “I guess that makes sense.”

Lyric bumps him with her shoulder in an encouraging kind of way. He bumps back, pleased.

“Did you know?” she murmurs, voice low under the siren’s wails.

He shrugs. “In hindsight, I suppose it was garen-ly obvious.”

“You’re so proud of yourself.”

“Get it? Garen, glaring?”

“As much as I appreciate moments of self discovery,” Salza yells over the noise, “can we shut this thing up now?”

“Glady,” Garen yells back, shouldering past the other students. He casts a shadow over the cage, plunging the creature into darkness and calm.

“Bravo,” Professor Ozik declares, clapping again. Not a few glares are leveled at him. “That’ll be an advantage on the field.”

Lyric turns away, snorting, and scribbles a few notes into her book. She looks up at the screeching of chairs, people settling back into their seats, and her gaze trails to Devon. They’re watching their roommate carefully.

Reema’s eyes are glued to the cage.

“Excellent rune work, no?” Ozik points out, following her look. “I hear you’re not too shabby with runes yourself, Miss Salten.”

“I’m too good for them to lose,” Reema corrects absently. Then she scowls.

[deepwaterwoman]

I’ve written my very first fan fiction about two little lovebirds I’ve become trash for: Rian and Deet.I’ve been inspired to give this a try thanks to the brilliant writing of @siancore  and @lovedmoviesb who I have been reading for quite some time. 

Below is Chapter 1. You can read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21002420/chapters/49946540

and here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13408268/1/Frozen-In-Time

Enjoy!

Frozen in Time by Deepwaterwoman

The whipping winds tossed Deet’s braids as she walked across the frozen land. The cold should have penetrated her flesh, she should have struggled in agony against the blistering ice surrounding her, but there was no sense of feeling in her body. Not even the crystalised strands of hair beating her brow could shake her from the dread spreading through her body and shrouding her senses in darkness. Deet had no understanding of time, or space, or how far she had gone. The only thought she could form, the only word she muttered as she trudged on, was Rian.

Rian. Rian. Rian.

His name beat a bruise against her darkening chest, keeping the spread of sickness at bay. If she could walk a bit farther, go on until the edge of Thra swallowed her whole, then he would be safe. They would all be safe. Deet had sacrificed herself to the power of the Sanctuary Tree so that she might save those she loved, but now the choice seemed a cruel price to pay. Love and life were two gifts she would no longer have the opportunity to experience for herself. Now, there was only the chill of the wind and the name she could not forget. 

A call came up in the wild, full of pain and warning, right above the rising mountain of ice Deet moved toward unfeeling. The part of her that remained, the part that still loved and cared for the life of Thra, looked up into the swirling winds to see what poor creature could be in such distress. She was still Deet, afterall. Still the girl with a heart that refused to turn away in the face of danger. No matter her hands rippled purple electricity into the ice as she stood to watch the strange flying creature struggling to stay afloat. It was as afflicted as the others; purple and bleating out for an escape from the rage. It’s wings were as obscured by ice as the lashes on Deet’s large eyes, causing it to sway and dip against the breeze as though it had been thrown into the sky with no knowledge of flight. 

“CAW! CAAAAAW!” It wailed, slicing against itself.

Without a second’s hesitation, Deet rushed to get under the creature to capture it from the sky. As though sensing her aid, the creature allowed itself to fall into her hands that were streaked in purple and ash. 

“Poor thing,” Deet muttered. She could hardly hear herself over the squalling of the ice winds. Thought the beast was nearly frozen through it fought against her, trying as it might to lash out and spread the darkening rippling across it’s black feathery body. Deet closed her eyes, and focused on the face she would never forget, the smile that warmed her, and used what was left of her energy to give the animal a bit of peace. With a steadying breath she allowed the pain it felt to flow into her, she pulled out the poison coursing through it’s tiny form. Unlike before, the ice-covered land she stood upon ignited around her, exploding in purple light that shot straight up into the gray sky, and illuminating Thra. Deet stood strong against the swirling tornado of cold air, gripping the beast to her chest until the Darkening was fully removed. 

Suddenly, the world went quiet. The wind stopped and the snow ceased to fall. Deet had forgotten what she was doing until the now-happy creature bounced out of her hand and into the breeze, free to go back to it’s own home once more. As the gaelstorm around her died down, Deet thought for a moment that she saw Rian, that he was right before her, reaching out a hand to bring her home. A home that could never be. 

“Rian?”  Deet called through the fog of the storm left behind. Then, she gave in to the call of rest and let the ice consume her.

**Meanwhile in Ha’rar**

There was never enough time in the day. Rian had never been one for reading, had never been allowed the time to explore the knowledge of ages past, but now his life was dedicated to learning. His experience as a warrior would come in handy now, on this new hunt. He stalked, crept, and dove into the books around him in the great library of Ha’rar. There had to be an answer, something Aughra hadn’t thought to tell them, a discovery that could return Deet to him. They had never known about the Darkening, yet there were answers when they needed them. His own father had never revealed the history of the Dual Glave, yet the knowledge was just waiting to be discovered. If he could stay awake and continue looking, stay on the hunt, he would find a way to bring her back.

While others mourned for their fallen, Rian mourned a stolen future, a life doomed to solitude and loneliness without the one he loved. He thought it strange at first that he could care for someone so soon after losing Mira, but Deet was like no other he had ever met before. If Mira’s essence lived on in Thra, he was certain she was happy such a bright light as Deet had entered his life. They would have got on well, he told himself when he dared to think about other roads his life might have taken. Perhaps he would have been happy below ground, exploring the Grottan caves she spoke of with such wonderment. He could have learned to love the darkness if it was as beautiful and full of life as Deet described. That future, he feared, was impossible now.

“No. Not impossible. I have to have hope,” Rian muttered as he flipped through yet another book. The librarian had given up on trying to dissuade Rian from forgoing sleep and food to continue on with the ancient texts. The old man was certain there was no answer to be found in Ha’rar. But they hadn’t known about Lore existing below their very feet, Rian had countered stubbornly. He would not give up, even after pleas from Brea, who loved books and learning more than most. 

He was surrounded by stacks of scrolls and books that fluttered each time he sighed in frustration. 

“Nothing! Nothing at all,” He grumbled once more to himself after another night of searching in vain. He stifled another yawn against his hand and rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes.

“Rian, you’re still here?” Brea called from the doorway. She carried a stack of books that he gathered she had taken home to study on her own. Though she was not as obsessed as Rian, Deet was also determined to find a solution for her friend. She owed it to Deet to help, to deliver a happy ending to them both.  She could only sigh when Rian shrugged and continued to press him. 

“You aren’t doing her any good working yourself to death, Rian. You have to rest so that you can look at these texts with fresh eyes. Sleepy eyes will miss something.”

Rian stopped at this. Brea was the wisest Gelfling he knew, and the only one who actually enjoyed the studies of these texts. Perhaps there was some truth to her words. Sensing she might be getting through to him, Brea pressed on, setting her books down beside him on the already overly cluttered table. Rian sighed and dropped his head when he felt Brea’s comforting hand upon his shoulder.

“You carry so much weight, Rian. For Deet, for Mira, for your father, for the rest of us. You have to give yourself a chance to heal so that we can be there for Deet when we find her.” Brea spoke softly, without judgement and full of care. Rian had become her closest friend, especially since losing Tavra. They had been through so much that few would ever be able to understand. Watching him suffer had placed a heavy stone upon her heart. 

“What if we can’t find her? What if she’s lost?” Rian muttered, terrified of speaking the words. He held onto hope so tightly in the days since letting Deet walk away. He had thought it better to let her go, but now feared he’d made the wrong choice. For a while, he could only hope that she would come back to him, but now he feared there would be no chance of a return. It was the fear that kept him going, the terror that waited behind his eyes when he dared sleep, the sinking knowledge that Deet was lost. 

“We will, Rian. Deet is strong, stronger than all of us combined. That’s why the Sanctuary Tree gave its power to her. It knew that of all the Gelflings, Deet could bear the burden. She isn’t lost to us, Rian.” 

But before he could speak, a light shot out of the sky to the North, brilliant and terrifying! It was so powerful that it shook the foundations of the library, knocking books and scrolls from their high shelves onto the floor. Rian and Brea looked on in horror as the sky turned from blue to violet, ringed with smoke and lightning. No one went that far to the North, no one would.

Rian and Brea snapped their heads to one another and shrieked in tandem: 

“DEET!”

In that moment, as he watched the sky twist into a dark version of what it had been, Rian made a fearless vow: against all odds, he would bring Deet back.

[kumkaniudaku]

Old Friends

A/N: Been gone for a minute. Hopefully this is a peace offering. 

“Mommy, AJ is putting his mouth on the shoppy cart again.”

Tasha’s eyes snapped away from the zucchini noodles on aisle six to examine the fourth interruption in her shopping experience in less than ten minutes. Sure enough, Noah’s mouth was attached to the cart’s handle, shining the germ-infested metal with his constant drooling.

“Aaron, no! Take your mouth off of that.” Her walking came to an abrupt halt to frantically pull her son’s face away from the cart and wipe the spit from his cheeks. The teeth breaking through his itching gums made any surface attractive for biting except the teething ring she had handed him before they ventured into the store.

Snatching a baby wipe from her purse, she worked to clean the handle while searching through his travel bag for another ring for him to chew.

“Mommy, how come Daddy is Aaron and AJ is Aaron too?”

“Your brother has your daddy’s middle name, Boop.”

“Well, how come me and you don’t have the same middle name?”

“Because we liked Noelle better for you.”

“But why?”

Tasha took a deep breath to compose her bubbling emotions and offered a closed mouth smile to her daughter. “Because that’s what you do when you’re a mommy and daddy. You give kids names.”

“Can I name my kid Bunny? I love bunnies!”

“Sure. Have all the animal named kids you want when you’re older.”

Accepting the explanation, Micah returned to the book in her hands much to Tasha’s delight. Grocery shopping alone was already Hell on Earth, but the addition of both of her children was turning the trip into a madhouse. She’d managed to strategically avoid the candy aisle and Micah’s desperate plea for “just a taste,” but knew a storm was brewing after she swiped the zucchini pasta into her cart and began the trek toward the breakfast cereal aisle. Chadwick hated the sugar-filled treats and discouraged her from bringing them into the house, but he also wasn’t the one to shuffle a grumpy child out of the house and to school every morning. Tasha would make the decision and ask for forgiveness later.

As she browsed the tidy shelves for a compromise between sweet delights and bland whole wheat options, she heard the loud shriek of a child and prayed it wasn’t one of hers. Another round of spitting giggles shared between two children finally made her turn her head. Instead of being met with mischief, she found Noah engaged in a starry-eyed exchange with a curly-haired little girl in a cart across the walkway.

“You think she’s pretty, huh,” She smiled before turning her attention to the other child. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“Oh, this is Olivia,” a male voice that Tasha didn’t acknowledge answered for the little girl.

All of the emotions of having a baby in her presence sent CoCo’s voice into the high pitch that adults use with children, and she had to scold herself mentally for reaching out to touch the unfamiliar child.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry,” Tasha apologized as she stood to her full height. “I get so excited when I see babies. Especially one as cute as Miss Olivia.”

“Yeah, well she’s a handful.”

“Aren’t they all?”

Adjusting her baseball cap on her head gave the other participant in the conversation a full view of Tasha’s face and her the same, piecing together the voices with an old, yet familiar presence.

“Tasha?”

“Elijah?”

Both adults stood frozen, receiving short flashes of their time together while people struggled to maneuver around them. The low curse from another disgruntled patron pulled both of them out of their thoughts and back to the present moment.

“Mommy, that man is not Daddy,” Micah informed, apparently done with reading her book and ready to supervise the situation.

“No, he’s not. This is one of Mommy’s old friends. Say hello to Elijah.”

Elijah waved back at Micah who narrowed her eyes and refused to return the gesture.

“Tough crowd,” he laughed as he rocked back and forth on his heels. He hadn’t changed much since Tasha last saw him years ago. He carried a bit more bulk across his arms and chest and sported more stubble than he used to, but he still had the same kind twinkle in his eye and warm smile.

“It’s been a minute huh, Tasha?”

“It has,” CoCo trailed off, staring in space before gathering her bearing and making eye contact. “How are you? Everything goin’ okay?”

Elijah smiled as another family passed between them to take a look at other items and nodded, “Yeah. Things are great. I’m back out here getting the business off the ground. For good this time.”

“This time?”

“Well, you know, after…” The situation quickly became uncomfortable at the mention of their sudden and painful breakup, forcing both of them to focus their attention elsewhere until they were ready to continue. “I moved back to Atlanta for a little while, got my stuff together, and then relocated to Houston. Now I’m here.”

“That’s uh...that’s good to hear. I’m sure Houston was beautiful.”

“It was. I learned a lot, met a few people, and started that real estate consulting firm I used to obsess about.”

Tasha nodded at the information without speaking. Guilt was starting to spread into every corner of her mind, and no matter how she tried to hide it, her eyes went sad. She couldn’t help but feel responsible for deferring his dreams.

“I see everything worked out with you,” Elijah continued, gesturing toward Micah and Noah. Micah’s stood in the cart with her eyes still narrowed as she observed the interaction while Noah’s mouth had found its way to the handle of the shopping cart again. If ever there was a time for her children to pretend to be perfect angels, it was now.

“I saw the wedding photos. And the birth announcements, the promotions, all that. I should’ve kept that to myself. I promise I wasn’t stalking you. The ShadeRoom is just usually on my explore page.”

“No, it’s cool. Things are great with me. You’ve met Micah, and this is Noah.”

“That one looks exactly like you,” he laughed as he motioned to Micah. “The expression and stance are all you.”

“Think so? Everyone says she looks like her dad.”

“Eh, kinda. But I see your spirit in there. She doesn’t take anybody’s shit.”

“You said a bad word, Mister ‘Lijah! One dollar in the swear jar for you.”

“Micah, be nice,” CoCo warned the tiny version of her. Though she heard her mother loud and clear, Micah calmly sat back inside the cart and continued to eye Elijah. She was taking notes for a later retelling to her favorite person.

Turning back to Elijah, Tasha attempted to salvage the conversation.

“I see you’re doing well too. Olivia has your eyes.”

“That’s what my mom says,” He laughed.

“Oh my God, I hope Mama Cheryl doesn’t hate me.”

“Hate is a strong word. But I’d watch out if I were you. Mama’s quick in that new power scooter.”

“Yikes. Okay, noted,” CoCo winced after an uneasy laugh. His mother had never been fond of her, and she was sure news about the breakup didn’t help. “So, Olivia’s mom. Is she…”

“She’s back in Houston for a little while. We’ve been doing the long-distance thing, but by the end of the month, she’ll be here so we can finish planning for the wedding.”

“A wedding! That’s great!”

“We gotta get it done before she starts showing again. She’s hell bent on fitting into the dress she chose before she got pregnant.”

“As she should be! Every woman should feel beautiful on their big day!”

“You know, you sound like her. You sure you don’t know Alyssa Tyler?”

“I don’t, but I’m sure if we share similar thoughts, she’s a great woman.”

The pair shared a laugh that felt more like friends reuniting than ex-lovers fumbling their way through their first in-person exchange since the breakup. Suddenly, though, the energy shifted when the weight of Elijah’s words set in.

He was getting married. They’d probably never see each other again after a chance meeting in the supermarket and, if that was the case, CoCo needed to clear the air before she lost the moment forever.

‘Hey, E, I need to apologize.”

Elijah’s smile dropped into a distant frown as he shrugged, “It’s cool, Tash. I-”

“No, it’s not cool. I did a terrible thing to you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not coming to you in person. I’m especially sorry for all of the pain that I’ve caused. It’s completely up to you if you choose to forgive me or not.”

“Look,” he started as he lifted a restless Olivia from her place in the grocery cart. “I was unbelievably hurt after what happened. I thought about trying to get you back, but I realized one thing.”

“That you didn’t want to go to jail for murder?”

“No, I was prepared to go to jail.” The seriousness in his admission lasted for a brief moment before he laughed to ease the tension. “What I was going to say is that I realized that you made the decision that was best for you. I would’ve loved for things to be different, but then we both would have never been placed in the situations we’re in now. You have a dope ass family, and I found the woman that I wanna spend the rest of my life with. We’re good. I promise.”

In his way of signaling a truce, Elijah extended his arm to present his closed fist to Tasha which she bumped her knuckles.  

“I should tell you, though,” he started. “I was gonna propose later that night.”

“Wait, what? The night of the charity event.”

He nodded while situating his daughter on his hip, “The plan was the gift you the house, and once everyone was gone, I had a little setup in the bedroom upstairs. Honestly, I almost pulled the engagement ring out of my pocket instead of the keys, because I was nervous.”

One thousand what if scenarios rolled through Tasha's mind following Elijah's revelation. What if he would’ve gone through with the proposal? Would she have said yes? With her rational mind, she was sure the answer to her final question was no. Not only was she not ready to be married at that point, but she’d been toying with the notion that she needed to explore what possibilities lay within Chadwick.

“Wow. I-I...I didn’t know that.”

“It’s best that you didn’t. What was meant for us came true. Just answer one question for me.”

“Sure! Anything.”

His eyes darted to Tasha’s left, finding Micah continuing to eye him over her Dr. Seuss book before lowering his voice for privacy.

“Were you ever cheating on me?”

“God no,” Tasha exclaimed. “We didn’t start dating until after you and I broke up. I swear.”

The rush of relief on his face and the breath he let out confirmed that Tasha need not divulge certain parts of her and her husband's union. As far as Elijah was concerned, it was months rather than literal hours that separated the relationship.

Just as Elijah opened his mouth to continue the conversation, Olivia released a shriek so loud that it scared Noah into tears. Being unable to communicate her discomfort with words only exasperated the situation. Two crying babies, a shady daughter, and all eyes in the immediate area on them forced Tasha and Elijah to say their goodbyes.

“It was nice seeing you, Elijah. Please, send us a wedding invitation or a link to your registry so that we can get you two a gift.”

“Will do, Tash. Tell Yvonne I said hi. See you later, Little Mama.” Elijah’s free hand extended to shake Micah’s that resulted in a harsh stare. “She really is you. It’s like the first time we met all over again.”

“Trust me; I was much nicer.”

“Mmmmm, I beg to differ.”

After a final set of laughs and goodbyes that carried empty promises to see each other again, CoCo completed her shopping trip with relative ease. Having closure on the situation that had privately plagued her for years lifted a figurative weight from her shoulders. Now, she could finally close that chapter of her life and mentally forgive herself.

As she set off toward an impromptu stop at her favorite shoe boutique to try on a pair of shoes she would request for her approaching birthday, CoCo dialed Chadwick on the car phone. Micah’s ears perked at the sound of her father’s voice, and she sat up from the nap that was beginning to claim her eyelids for a closer listen.

“Babe, I got the pasta noodles you wanted, but you have to cook them. I always get the recipe wrong.”

“That’s fine. It’s my night to cook anyway.”

“The last six Thursday’s have been your night, but I’m happy to see you adhering to the schedule.”

“This isn’t the way to get me to continue if you were wondering,” he laughed on the other end. “The car is quiet. Are the kids asleep?”

“Noah is, I don’t know ab-”

“DADDY! MOMMY WAS TALKING TO A MAN AT THE STORE! HE SAID HE WAS GONNA SUPPOSE!”

“Micah!”

Tasha stared in horror at her center console as the line became eerily silent. Of course, she had no intentions of hiding the information from Chadwick, but she sure as hell didn’t want her conversation with her ex to be blurted by her daughter who only had some of the facts straight. She was sure her husband had hung up the phone if not for the sound of the television in his background.

“I’m gonna assume 'suppose' means propose. You out here gettin’ married on me, girl? I thought for sure having both the kids with you would keep you safe. I guess you just that fine.”

“HE HAD A BABY TOO! HER NAME WAS OLIVIA. AJ LIKES HER!”

“Oh my-Micah, sit down and hush!”

“Nuh uh, tell Daddy all about it, Princess!”

“No! Micah, you be quiet and, Aaron, I will talk you when we get home. Goodbye!”

Neither Chadwick or Micah could get another word in as CoCo ended the call with lightning speed. When she looked in her rear-view mirror, she found her only daughter in her booster seat with her arms crossed and a searing glare directed toward her.

“I see it’s time to teach you about girl code, Boop. Rule number one: let Mommy tell Daddy first!”

                                           __________

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[emzymakesbelieve]

not to be fake deep but let's talk about all your old walt babies that you haven't mentioned (because i love the hainline's okay and you and all your kids and i miss you

Send me an old muse and I’ll gush about them.

oKAY SIT DOWN AND BUCKLE UP, KIDDOS.

(I love you, too, sweet pea.  *smooch*)

Frank Hainline

So Frank is a prick, to start off, but he’s my prick and you’re not allowed to trash talk him without my say so (which of course you have because he’s A PRICK).  He was the kind of kid who wore an anarchy symbol on his jacket but never actually did anything to represent or invoke anarchy.  He’s also a gigantic slut and can’t keep his pants zipped for longer than ten minutes.  Fidelity is not this man’s middle name (*CoUgH* illegitimate child he never knew about).  He definitely wasn’t ready to become a father when Victoria got pregnant (and more or less trapped him into marriage), but by the time baby Penelope came, he devoted every ounce of energy he could to making sure she had a good life, and the two of them actually grew very close.  He passed away from cancer when Penelope was about ten.

Norma Hainline

Penelope’s eldest.  The two most important things you need to know about Norma are that she’s a dancer and she’s gay as a maypole.  Her main focuses are tap and ballet.  She loves old Hollywood - she got her start watching Singin’ in the Rain and Fred & Ginger films - but definitely prefers to live in the here and now where she can express herself both as an artist and as a lesbian.  The dance world, much as she loves it, is a crusty old institution that needs to break some pointless rules and get over itself.  She is also Grade A Mom Friend Extraordinaire™.  Her love language is definitely acts of service, particularly making sure you’re eating and sleeping well and taking your medicine on time (though turns out she’s a terrible patient herself).  Much to her frustration, her two closet friends - Noah and Nick - are both more or less bent on self destruction and driving her completely bonkers, but she loves them just the same.

Francis Hainline

Francis, the third eldest, has no business being in this family with how shy he is, but nevertheless.  Definitely the black sheep of the family, but his siblings defend and support him with everything they have.  (Well, Kath usually does it with a lot of sarcasm, but you can tell she loves him.)  He’s a total hipster and has a special love for anything that was built before the year 2000.  His prize possession is an old camcorder that uses real VHS tapes, so naturally he becomes a film student.  I envision him growing up and working as a cinematographer and eventual director of poignant indie films and documentaries - stuff with lots of lingering, fly-on-the-wall shots.  Also, special shoutout to Seraphina, the love of his got dang life.  Those two gave me so many freaking cavities with their cuteness.

Kathleen Hainline

So Kath is a mess, but that’s just par for the course in this family, I suppose.  She’s the baby of the family and has always felt like she’s living in her sister Norma’s shadow.  She’s a bit of a wild child, but certainly not to the extent Victoria was.  It’s all just a cry for attention, trust me.  She wants to feel needed, she wants to feel wanted, she wants to feel special.  And anything that takes the attention of the people she loves off of her needs to die, plain and simple.  She’s best friends with Daisy and is technically endgame with Jonas (though we really didn’t get to write them that far), so here goes a prayer candle for my lovely Becca.

Dory Novak

As you can probably guess by the name, Dory is based on that delightful blue tang we know and love.  In the Walt universe, she developed her short term memory loss after an accident that killed her parents, and was adopted by Marlin.  She loves swimming and her family and especially anything combining the two.  She’s a freaking sweetheart who is actually pretty hard on herself, and it was so heartbreaking to play her in any kind of stressful situation because five minutes later she would still be freaked out by have no idea as to why (looking at you, Scream event).  Also, Scooby liked her a lot and I felt so freaking blessed???  She ends up becoming a social worker and helping kids in the foster system like her.

Charlie Harper & Jenny Harper née Parkington

I never got to properly play Dory’s parents, but here’s the fast and skinny on them.  Jenny was a shy bookworm who never thought boys would be interested in her and (for the most part) had made peace with that theory.  Charlie was a jock who was head over heels for Jenny but never knew how to communicate it without being a sleaze.  Eventually, he manages to ask her out, she says yes, and they pretty much become attached at the hip.  She comes to his basketball games and swim meets decked out in the school colors and cheering like a maniac.  My guess is Dory came a little earlier than they were expecting, but not so early that it would be considered scandalous - probably when they were almost finished with college or something.  Dory became their world and they spoiled that little girl beyond belief.  Unfortunately, both of them were killed in a car wreck when Dory was very little.

Marlene Novak

Dory’s first kid, adopted.  To sum it up nicely, Marlene’s a hot mess because she was never able to come to terms with the fact that her birth mother didn’t want her.  I tried to start this whole plot where she ran into her birth mother just out in the wild and that made her get even messier, but I think I was just throwing crap on the fire to see what blew up at that point.  She also has a…flirtatious arrangement, shall we say, with her friend Viv.

Lyle Novak

Dory’s second kid, also adopted.  *sigh*  Lyle, Lyle, Lyle…  He’s a cutie, don’t get me wrong, but I feel like I didn’t give his character enough punch?  He just seems kind of blah now that I look back at him.  I have a history of being super self conscious about my male characters if they don’t have like a Super Archetype personality for some freaking reason, and Lyle is definitely an example of that.  He’s a little shy, but not so shy that it’s endearing, and he’s also a little courageous, but not so courageous that he actually gets crap done.  He’s a little complacent, looking back on him, which is kind of the opposite of how I wanted to play him...?  I dunno.  Maybe I’m being too harsh on myself.  HE’S CUTE.  LIFE GOES ON.

Cinderella Tremaine

To the surprise of absolutely no one, I’ve actually played a Cinderella counterpart in a few different groups, but let’s just talk about how I portrayed her at Walt.  French transfer student in America (I changed her to straight up American after a point) who loves animals arguably more than life itself and tries her best not to cry over things she can’t control.  She’s also daydreamy as FRICK.  Loves to get lost in her own imagination.  If she’s not engaged in conversation or work of some kind, I can guarantee you her conscience isn’t even on this plane.  Also, can I just shriek about the superhero AU version of her where she was a counterpart to Zatanna and literally became her own fairy godmother?  Because I think about that far more than is probably healthy.

Emmett Tremaine & Johanna Tremaine née Cartier

Same thing as Dory’s parents, just gonna give you a quick lowdown.  Johanna came from a fairly well off family in France (distantly related to those guys, but far enough away that it doesn’t really count), but her parents thought she was an absolute embarrassment.  She was never afraid to speak her mind when it came to things like etiquette and politics, and she had a fabulously wild imagination.  She never stopped believing in fairies, ghosts, gremlins, things like that.  Emmett was that quiet nerd dreamer type, very much obsessed with travel and history.  And like I need to spell it out for you, but they were LUDICROUSLY in love with each other.  Like, nauseatingly so.

Robby Tremaine

Robby is Cindy’s son I whipped up real quick one next gen when I was going crazy and wanted to snatch Nick Robinson’s beautiful face.  He’s a hardcore farm boy who doesn’t mind a little mud behind his ears and super environmentally conscious.  Not just recycling and veganism and all that, but he will go off on you about sustainable farming and animal raising, and how the hydrogen fuel cell is the way of the future.

Taige Bailey

Based on Terk from Tarzan, Taige is a super jock, total butch lesbian, and altogether DUMBNUT.  Like, GOD she’s so stupid sometimes because she just barrels into crap with reckless abandon and doesn’t think things through.  Dear God, she will PUNCH you if you so much as look at her funny, just ‘cause she feels bored.  And she walks around like she’s God’s gift to creation, but she’s just a little twerp.  But she’s my twerp.  (Huh.  I’m just now realizing how similar Taige and Pen are.  In a weird way, Taige is like the tomboy version of Pen.)  Here, you can imagine me lighting a prayer candle because I never got to play her against her two best friends and I’m SAD.  Y’ALL NEVER GOT TO EXPERIENCE THE TOUR DE FORCE THAT IS T CUBED.  Also *cough* she and Vitani may have had a *coUGH* flirtationship.

I would also put Taige’s parents on this list, but they’re so hardly even developed that it’s not really worth mentioning them.  I only know their names: Lamarr and April.

Jared Bailey

Taige’s only child, Jared’s still trying to figure out what masculinity means to him, what with being raised by two women and all.  He can get a little “dudebro alpha male” sometimes, but he’s also that kid you definitely want to have your back when things get rough.  He’ll help you with your homework, teach you how to shoot a three-pointer, and walk you home when it’s dark like the gentleman he is.

[verrottweil]

as snow to fire

intro to this wip multi-chap thing i’m writing. this piece in particular is gen.

inspired by and dedicated to the amazing artworks here. please check them out, you won’t regret it!

can also be read here

main characters: spearman & goblin slayer

.

They made it back to the Guild just in time. The storm's finally caught up; the rain rattles against the building, and the wind is a madman's howl through the streets. It's hard to tell whether it'll be over in a few minutes or will last the whole damn night. Spearman wipes the sweat and grime off his face with the back of his hand, wincing when he catches the gash on his cheek.The blue-dyed leather of his glove comes back blood-stained. Shit. Must've peeled the scab off. Witch tuts disapprovingly and rummages around in her pouch, then hands him a perfumed handkerchief. Her lips curl into a lazy smile. Indulgent.

During the trek back to town Spearman daydreamed about how he’d report back to Guild Girl and how cool he’d look, now he has to stand there at the counter with a hankie pressed to his cheek. Unless...

Turning to his companion with puppy dog eyes, Spearman wheedles, “You have one spell left. Can't you work some magic on me, for a job well done?”

Witch raises a brow and while pretending to mull over his request, she daintily crosses one leg over the other. The candlelight flickers over her features, her generous cleavage. With a tilt of the head, she regards him and answers unhurriedly, “If I were to. You would lose your mark of heroism. No?”

Catching Guild Girl shuffle through a stack of papers from his peripheral, Spearman deflates a little. Witch rolls her eyes and lights her pipe. Maybe Guild Girl would fuss over him for a change? He pokes his tongue to the inside of his cheek, pressing his palm harder to the cut. She always bends over backwards for Goblin Slayer when he gets back from a quest. Resentment rears its ugly head at the thought. Spearman doesn't have the energy to pretend he never noticed how badly she crushes on Goblin Slayer. The fight with those bandits took a lot more than he anticipated.

It would be nice to have Guild Girl smile at him like she means it though.

The massive wooden door opens with a shuddery creak. Spearman groans when he sees Goblin Slayer in the open doorway-- after five years, he recognizes the silhouette of that dirt cheap helmet immediately. A spray of rain gets blown into the hall. Goblin Slayer and his party file inside, striking a more pitiful sight than usual, soaked to the bone and stupid tired from their adventure. Speak of the devil. They shuffle over to the front desk, their shadows crooked on the floorboards.

With a huff, Spearman watches how Guild Girl perks up considerably. “I don't get it,” he whines, clenching his hands into fists. “What's so special about him?”

It was strictly rhetorical. So he certainly didn't expect his companion to reply: “You could try to find out… maybe? He is perhaps more, than he seems. At first glance.” When she notices she has his attention, Witch takes a puff of her pipe-- thin wisps of faint purple smoke float to the ceiling. She adds coyly, “Now is a good time, as any. Don't you agree?”

“Wanna bet there are just more goblins at second glance?” Spearman mutters derisively, shifting his weapon from shoulder. No response. He glances at the front desk.

Still, there's gotta be something worthwhile about the guy.

Guild Girl's dropped everything now Goblin Slayer's in front of her. Her hands are flat on the countertop as she listens captively to Goblin Slayer's report, no doubt standing on the tips of her toes to catch every word. Humming to himself, Spearman concedes Witch has a point. After all, for the entirety of Spearman's adventuring career Goblin Slayer has been this 'goblin-obsessed weirdo’ on the backdrop, and he never really bothered to get to know him better. Witch tips her head back and regards him with narrowed eyes. A long shadow falls over the slope of her throat.

Handing the bloodied handkerchief back, Spearman makes a face and says aloud, “Okay, okay, I guess you're right... Hey, you up for a drink?”

The corners of Witch's mouth curl into a smile. She rises languidly from her seat, with the grace of a cat stretching under the midday sun. Together they head over to the front desk. Goblin Slayer's party doesn't require much convincing; the prospect of drink, food and the tavern’s grand fireplace easily tides them over. Only Goblin Slayer himself remains hesitant. Spearman figures the guy had probably planned to get back to that farm right away.

“Gah you can't be serious, Orcbolg!” High Elf Archer exclaims loudly, hands on her hips and eyebrows furrowed.

Before she can berate him in earnest, Dwarf Shaman pitches in, “Come now, Beard-cutter. You've walked through the same storm as us. It's better to sit this one out. And you might as well fill your stomach while you're at it.”

Even Guild Girl nods in agreement at the dwarf's words. Cornered, Goblin Slayer tenses up, making this soft, confused sound that Spearman would've never heard if he hadn't been standing so close to him. The heavy rainfall drowns out most noise.

“I see,” Goblin Slayer murmurs. Water drips down the expanse of his chest piece, and the fur of his collar's wet, weighed down. Dried blood on the buckler around his arm. His leather boots caked with mud. Other adventurers always turn up their nose when they see him in his gear, but he's downright sorry-looking now.

Spearman snaps his gaze back to the visor of that cheap helmet when Goblin Slayer slowly says, “Alright.”

.

The tavern's awash with warmth. The padfoot waitress flits between tables on nimble feet, the skirt of her uniform bellowing around her legs. Rookie and veteran adventurers are clustered in groups of four or five. Chattering excitedly or raising their tankards in a festive toast. Spearman greets those he knows and leads the exhausted party to the table closest by the hearth. The firewood crackles pleasantly. Soot papering the stone foundation. Lizard Priest takes the head of the table. His hulking form cuts an impressive figure; the priestly garments he wears are wet-stuck to his scales, like a second skin. Dwarf Shaman and High Elf Archer settle down on each side.

“--And I'm telling you that it doesn't count, you stubborn dwarf!” She shrieks, shrill, while the dwarf bursts out laughing. Spearman wasn't really following their argument, about the merits of dwarven crossbows or something; most of his attention had been focused on Goblin Slayer and Priestess. It's oddly endearing, watching this girl hover around the guy like a tiny mother hen.

Her sounding staff gleams with raindrops, firelit. She holds onto it tightly when she chastises him. “You shouldn't have flooded the outpost.”

“The river was close by,” Goblin Slayer replies, carefully unbuckling the worn leather clasp of his shield.

Priestess puffs out her cheeks. Some strands of honey blond hair are plastered to her face. “Can't you be a bit more considerate? You know she doesn't like it when you use fire, water or poison in fights… What if-- what if you altered the river's course?”

“Not by much,” he murmurs in response, placing the scabbard of his sword down in front of the fireplace. The glow of the flames washes over his back like an orange wave. “Give me your cloak,” he then says, holding out his hand.

“Ah, right!” Priestess exclaims, quickly shrugging off the oversized, coarse cloak. Goblin Slayer spreads it out to dry on the floorboards.

Spearman watches the exchange with a smile. He places his spear against the wall and turns to the table, intending to take the seat next to Witch. Their eyes meet, and she smirks, her eyes half-hooded. The tip of her pointy hat droops sideways when she props her elbow on the tabletop and rests her chin on her knuckles. Her gaze falls on Priestess, who blushes under its intensity. Huh, cute.

Witch addresses her directly. “Won't you come sit.” Here she pats the spot next to her. “I would like to hear. About your adventure. Would that be… alright? I am sure, you must have much to tell.” She remarks gently, her voice lilting like a lullaby.

“Yes!” Priestess stutters around the y, grabbing the skirts of her robes with two fistfuls. “I mean of course, that wouldn't be a problem at all.” The skin peeking above her thigh highs a bright red from the cold.

With a sigh, Spearman settles down onto the bench, leaving space for Goblin Slayer. The wood groans under his added weight.

They order soup with full wheat bread on the side, roast for supper with pears and wild cranberries, a platter of grilled winter vegetables for High Elf Archer, and an assortment of cheese for Lizard Priest. The padfoot waitress serves them tankards of rich grape wine. Spearman listens attentively to Dwarf Shaman’s and Priestess’ retelling of their adventure, interspersed by High Elf Archer’s indignant squawks whenever the dwarf makes a joke at her expense and by Goblin Slayer’s remarks. He hasn’t bothered removing his helmet. The torn red ribbon sticks flatly to the metal.

“So what did you guys do?!” High Elf Archer asks, pounding her tankard onto the tabletop -- Lizard Priest gingerly picks up his plate and shoots her a look. Always excited to hear about “real” adventures that one. Her cheeks flushed already.

Spearman takes a big gulp from his drink, wipes his chin and answers, “Cleared a bandit camp. On the mountain pass way up north.”

From the corner of his eye he gauges Goblin Slayer for a reaction. The guy remains impassive, giving no indication he’s heard him speak up in the first place, spooning mouthfuls of food through the slits of his faceguard.

Turning back to High Elf Archer, Spearman continues, “There must’ve been a dozen of ‘em, right. Burly. Tough. Armed to the teeth.”

“Tell us what happened!” She eggs him on loudly, grinning wide. Her companions nod in agreement; all eyes suddenly trained on him.

Basking in the attention, Spearman recounts the events of the day. How they trekked through the tall grass, the frozen ground like rock under their heels, and cautiously made their way to the encampment on the bluff overlooking the mountain pass. They smoked out the bandits. Set the wooden fortification ablaze with a simple fire spell. When he gets to the fight, Spearman becomes animated, gesturing wildly to emphasize certain parts, sometimes bumping into Goblin Slayer next to him. He took on ten bandits at the same time. Only one got to him, socked him in the face with a gauntleted fist.

Lizard Priest folds his paws together, eyes squinted half-shut, and offers, “I could heal that cut for you if you so pleased, milord Spearman.”

Spearman’s caught of guard for a moment. Witch flashes him a knowing look, and he declines casually, “Nah… Wouldn’t want to lose my battlescar.” He turns to Goblin Slayer and asks with a wink, “How else would people know I’m an adventurer, right?”

“You look like one,” Goblin Slayer deadpans in response. To Spearman’s surprise, the other members of the party start laughing, as if the guy just cracked a joke.

Unsure of how to react, Spearman tips back the rest of his wine. A bit too fast, because it clogs at the well of his throat, the taste sticking to his palate like honey. He swallows, curt. Tries not to acknowledge that Goblin Slayer is still watching him. His head angled to the side, the fire’s glow lining the back of his helmet with a streak of gold. Did he offend him or something? The tavern turns rowdy when two adventurers start an armwrestling competition at the bar. Spearman peers at the gathering crowd past Goblin Slayer.

High Elf Archer slams her tankard down on the table in cheer and hops off the bench. “Let's go watch!” She commands, half-drunk. Dwarf Shaman strokes his beard and slips out of his seat as well, keeping his cup of fire-wine in hand. Satisfied, the elf turns to Goblin Slayer and says, “Orcbolg, you too!”

“It stopped raining,” he says matter-of-fact.

Lizard Priest casts a glance over his shoulder, at the lead-stained window behind him and hums in acknowledgement. “Indeed it has, milord Goblin Slayer.” His paws are pressed together again, eyes scrunched shut, like a cat's when petted. “I believe you would prefer to take your leave then?”

It dawns on Spearman that Goblin Slayer had been looking past him, not at him. His lips press into a thin line.

“Oh,” Priestess exhales, almost inaudible over the pleasant crackling of the firewood and the shouting match near the counter. Her hair's dried, frazzled around the cheeks. In need of a good brush. She regards him intently when saying, “Please be careful on your way home.”

“I will,” Goblin Slayer promises, getting up from the bench under a barrage of complaints from High Elf Archer. Her voice crowding out the drunken struggle at the bar.

He drops a leather bag of coin onto the table and fetches his weapons.

Spearman crosses his arms in front of his chest, bouncing his leg impatiently. His expression pinches up when Witch bumps her foot against his ankle and levels him a look. Her eyes gleam under the brim of her hat, the smile on her face duplicitous. After years of fighting back to back, they learned to communicate by body language alone. With a tilt of the head Witch nudges him onwards. He heaves a sigh, surrenders. And then slams his fist onto the table, getting up.

High Elf Archer startles at the unexpected sound. Her lecture brought to an abrupt ending. Dwarf Shaman takes a gulp of fire-wine, peering up at him from underneath thick bristly eyebrows when he stands at full height.

Spearman sheepishly scratches his nose and announces, “I figured I'd come with... All this wine is getting to my head y'know, and I need some fresh air.” He jerks his head in Goblin Slayer's direction and asks, “You don't mind, do ya?”

Goblin Slayer bows his head, caught in the firelight, and mutters, “Do as you wish.”

The hollowed-out sound of his voice would scotch any attempt at accompanying him, but Spearman just grins. He then looks over at Witch and catches Priestess shaking her head helplessly next to her. When she notices him staring, she gives him a self-effacing smile, as if to say you get used to it. It serves to boost his confidence even further.

Taking his spear in hand, Spearman says brightly, “Right! Lead on, then.”

.

Thawed-out and wet, the muddy underground sucks at their boots; the wind whips mercilessly against his bare cheeks. The cut on his cheek throbs from the cold. Spearman wipes at his watery eyes and follows Goblin Slayer's shadowy form down the dirt road, both moons looming behind a slumber of clouds. In the first month of the new year, the weather always fluctuates between bitter frost, and cool and rainy. The candlelight from the lanterns around their hips sloshes unsteadily with every step. It spills over the mud like oil.

Spearman licks his dry-cracked lips. They haven't exchanged a single word since leaving the tavern, and the silence rings between his ears heavier than the wind around them. He'd wanted to breach the subject conversationally. Why goblins? Don't you care about anything else?

But the cold leaves him wrung-out, with the sound of his voice dying stillborn past his teeth.

After another few minutes of walking, Spearman wagers a gamble. He's the frontier's strongest, gods be damned, and he's faced worse than a talk with a fellow adventurer. Balling his hands into fists -- closed tighter than a padlock, he strides up to Goblin Slayer. His squelching footsteps echoing bravely in the dark.

“So,” Spearman begins, his breath a wet fog. “What's your deal, anyway? With goblins, I mean. You never wanna move on to bigger game?”

Goblin Slayer looks at him from over his shoulder, a courtesy for him, and replies curtly, “No.”

“Well why not?” Spearman presses on, courageous. “You could if you wanted to, y'know. Remember when we handled that sorcerer in his big white tower? Lil’ bit more practice and you'd be a great scout.”

“Not interested,” Goblin Slayer answers, pulling the threadbare cloak up to his chin, drawn tight over the span of his back.

The few trees near the road rustle their branches -- aspen, birches, a dried-out oak. A harrowing sound.

Spearman combs a gloved hand through his hair, exhales through his nose, loud like a bull. He makes another ditch effort. “You've got two cute girls in your party. Aren't you even a little bit interested in one of them? And with Guild Girl smiling at you like…” He trails off, swallows. Sounding too sour for his own ears. “And what about that farm girl? You went out on a limb for her farm, and okay, there were goblins too, but don't try and--”

“Not every farm gets saved.”

He snaps his head up, gives Goblin Slayer a surprised stare. The wind like a whiplash against his skin. Goblin Slayer's lantern lights up his belly, his chest, but leaves his helmet to the dark. Just a glint of metal.

This guy, Spearman thinks, why would he say something like that all of a sudden. Inarticulate, he manages, “What?”

“Not every farm, not every village gets saved,” Goblin Slayer says slowly. “Mine didn't.”

They stop walking. The hemline of that threadbare cloak bellows in the wind; Spearman can hardly differentiate the outline against the dark. He shifts his spear from shoulder. The weight of his weapon a comfort. He tries to peer between the grates of Goblin Slayer's visor, trying to glimpse his eyes. They were reddish, weren't they?--he remembers from that celebration at the Guild, when he took his helmet off and…

“We’re already far from town,” Goblin Slayer turns towards the frontier town, towards the lights in the distance. You should head back remains unsaid.

The dismissal stings, worse than his cheek does, but his curiosity grows voracious, threatening to pull the tell me out into the open. Spearman falters. Wants to do something outrageous like reach out to him, grab him by the shoulders and rattle him a little, shake the whole confession out of him. He blinks, owlish.

“Right,” he mutters lamely, forcing a grin. “Guess I should get going then… See ya!”

Goblin Slayer remains unmoved, holding onto the rusted handle of the lantern tied around his waist. The candle wobbles on its iron perch. “Yes,” Goblin Slayer says then, simply assessing him. "I will probably see you at the Guild."

Spearman rubs the back of his neck, takes a step backwards. Another one. His foot sinking into the mud. He awkwardly balances his spear against his shoulder, not wanting to dirty the weapon, and turns to the opposite direction. The red moon peeks through wisps of clouds overhead. He takes a steadying breath and treks homewards, feeling the wind beat against his back like children's fists. His stomach in knots.

For the first time, he's looking forward to seeing Goblin Slayer again.

[aspected-benefic]

FFXIVwrite2018 #16 - Bond

Word Count: 1,801

((Aye, is late. I still wanted to finish this since this entry is dedicated to @abeat, the most wonderful girlfriend ever. She is going through a rough time right now and I wanted to do something for her. Also thanks to her for the Executioner’s lines. The four sisters and the Executioner belong to her.

This is based off of an old RP we did together. Though the RP is unfinished, I imagine this is what would happen later.))

Party:

Maroda Metzger: PLD | Teremy Itsubishi: WAR Reonora Aestethe: AST | Princess Kneesaa (aka E-e-e-e-e Ewok): WHM Ash Lawrence: DRG | Xiaoning Shou: MNK Joey Madison: RDM | Yappy Dog: BRD

Trial: Executioner (Savage)

The party’s leader, a Paladin named Maroda Metzger, tapped the special linkpearl created solely for her group. “Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear… somehow...” spoke the party’s Monk, Xiaoning Shou. “These winds are deafening!”

“All right. Brave these winds a little more, everyone! I see our mark up ahead.” said Maroda.

On the open field, the winds screamed a near-deafening roar. However, the primal who hovered in midair, preoccupied with her own ritual, was not Garuda, but a woman whose very aura emanated energy of pure malice. Enough to make the more aether-sensitive members of the party cover their mouths lest they succumb to the ill sensation in their stomachs.

The Executioner herself.

Some of the party members had been told that this is their mother, a being who had become obsessed and corrupted with power. Others were told purely of their evil. But regardless of what any of them had been told, all eight had two objectives, one mission.

To stop the Executioner’s ritual and free her daughters.

The eight-person team, lead by Maroda Metzger, stepped into the midst of what appeared to be an elaborate ritual circle. Surrounding the ritual at four specific points were the ones the party had come to rescue.

The Hell sisters. All unconscious with their limbs rope bound onto tall crosses.

To the east hung a blonde lalafell who called herself Cecille the Brave. However, both her appearance and disguise were nothing but ruses to hide her true identity as Iris Hellwind.

To the west hung an elezen of extraordinary beauty, Lavender Helltear.

To the north hung a miqo’te innocent of face but steel of resolve, Holly Hellhound.

And to the south hung a dark-haired lalafell, the ever-sarcastic but kind of heart Camellia Hellfire.

“They’re still alive. I still sense magical energy from them.”

The party’s White Mage, Princess Kneesaa, nodded in affirmation.

Joey continued. “Their positions indicate their respective elements: wind to the east, fire to the south, water to the west, and earth to the north. I’m also sensing a buildup of magical energy in the center. The Executioner’s starting her ritual.”

Maroda narrowed her eyes, “Not if we can help it. C’mon!”

Taking what could very well be her last deep breath, Maroda stepped into the center of the arena. As she did so, the wind stopped and she could hear again. Her example by leadership paid off as the rest of the party followed without hesitation.

Once all eight party members stood in the midst of the giant ritual circle, an ominous shadow underneath the Executioner herself slowly loomed over them in greeting. “Well well well...look who it is. The almighty saviour has appeared!” chortled the inhuman echo of her voice.

Though the Executioner’s height made her appear like she looked at the entire party, her eyes looked upon but a single member.

Ash Lawrence, the party’s Dragoon.

“Oh, look my dearest daughters, a saviour and his motley crew have appeared to save the day! Are you not pleased? Oh, right, you can’t be, you’re barely still alive.”

The Executioner’s cackle vibrated through the arena that sent chills up the adventurer’s spines.

“So you found me. Oh no. Whatever shall I do. So what now? Going to run me through? Overcome my terrible evil in the name of justice, love, and all those other pleasant lies you mortals tell yourselves to feel better about your short and pathetic lives?” She cackled again. “That, of course, is being generous with the assumption that you have the power to even scratch me. Let alone stop the wheels I have in motion.”

Ash twirled his spear in his left hand and slammed the handle end on the ground. “You speak of a saviour, and a saviour implies that they shall be the ones doing the saving, no?” He asked in his heavily accented Ishgardian accent. “Bold of you to assume the results without before the battle. Do you count your chickens before they hatch as well?”

“Won’t let me have who? These four that you so desperately cling to? As though they were even alive?” The Executioner waving a shadowy hand around the room. “I am not ‘counting’ anything. I am reclaiming what was already mine. These four are not alive. They are merely extensions of me. Little more than puppets on a string. Strings that I control.”

The Executioner held her palms upwards. Invisible strings attached from the sisters to the tips of the Executioner’s fingers made themselves known as coloured energy streamed forth from the sisters and into the Executioner herself. The sisters who once appeared unconscious cried out in pain. The party members stepped forward. The healers even held their weapons at ready, but hesitated. No telling what would happen if they made any rash moves.

Thankfully for the sisters, the Executioner stopped her energy drain. Her actions served no other purpose than as a warning. “So you’re here on your merry quest of righteousness to ‘rescue’ these extensions of myself? As if it is even worth saving mere puppets from their one true purpose?”

Without hesitation, the party’s Astrologian, Reonora Aestethe, balled her hands into tight fists and looked up at the Executioner dead in the eyes. “Yes, they are! Perhaps to you they are nothing but your puppets in your twisted little show, but to us, they are so much more!”

Reonora gestured to the elezen to the west. “Lavender… she taught me the value of friendship, of being a good friend you can care for, but also that good friends will care for you as well!”

Reonora gestured to the blonde lalafell to the east. “Cecille the Brave--no, Iris. Perhaps she and I have not always been on the same foot, but she showed me that one does not need to always get along to be true, loyal friends.”

Reonora gestured to the dark-haired lalafell to the south. “Camellia… she taught me to open up and speak my mind. Tell jokes. That people are not always what they seem.”

Reonora gestured behind her to the miqo’te to the north. “And Holly… she taught me what it means to feel valued… and loved.”

As though Reonora’s shout was a war cry, the other members of the party stood up. Maroda was the first after Reonora to step up.

“That’s right!” Maroda shouted. “Holly taught me the importance of not running away. She also gave me the courage to stand up to the people who tried to control me. Just like how I won’t be controlled anymore, I won’t let you control them either!”

The party’s Warrior, Teremy Itsubishi, slung his oversized axe over his shoulder. “Pfft. Speaking of Holly, I’m more than happy to show you what she taught me--” A red aura--the manifestation of his inner rage--temporarily flashed, shaking the earth underneath his feet. “--with this axe.”

Princess Kneesaa took a single dainty step forward, clutching her staff in both her hands. “Lavender helped Princess Kneesaa to save taint Kneesaa’s people had become.” She spoke in a dignified Ishgardian accent. “Lavender is true friend! Kneesaa protect Lavender!”

Joey stepped beside Kneesaa and looked up at the Executioner. “And Camellia helped me to move on from the past and instead fight for the future. Fight against the stupid strong people who oppress the weak. Like you!”

Xiaoning balled her hands into tight fists, similar to Reonora, and stamped her foot, also shaking the ground. “Not only is Lavender a frequent guest at my inn, she’s also the bestest friend a girl could ever have! Besides, you’re not gonna break Lavender and Ash up! I’ll make sure that they’re together forever!”

Ash held a gloved hand to his mouth and cleared his throat. “Thank you for that, Xiaoning.”

“You’re welcome!”

Ash lowered his hand and looked up at the Executioner. “The mistress--” He took a quick glance to Cecille, “--is quite the handful. Yet, as her retainer and her friend, someone must take care of her. And as for Lavender...”

He looked at Lavender to the west. Even unconscious, even on the brink of death, just seeing her alive made him smile.

“She gave me a reason to live. A reason to fight. To defy the expectations my family set upon me, to face my shadows and conquer my fears. Now, it seems as though my companions and I shall be conquering her shadows as well.”

Yappy Dog, the party’s Bard, aimed an arrow at the Executioner, tears streaming down his small cheeks. “Give me back my Mom!”

The Executioner leaned forward like an exasperated mother about to scold her children. “Oh quit your incessant prattle. I would ask you to simply leave me in peace and continue with my plans, but I am certain you would just enter into yet another self-righteous monologue, wasting both my time and yours. I think I’ll just kill you instead!”

Reaching to the side of her head, the Executioner dug her fingers into her flesh and swiped her hand across. The sound of fabric tearing screeched alongside her show of force and her body fell to the floor, opened in half, laying flat and limp like yesterday’s dirty clothes. In its place, a shadow that vaguely resembled a human reached to the skies.

Her true form.

She continued to grow… and grow… absorbing the shadows. Absorbing the energy around her. Until she towered over the party, enveloping them in her own darkness to symbolize the end of all hope. Once she reached her full height, she leaned back, arms stretched to the side, and shrieked a deafening, unearthly roar. A show of power. A final bid to show the adventurers that they had come to forfeit their lives.

However, the party refused to fall for her intimidation tactics. Ash stood in between Maroda and Teremy. The two tanks parted ways to let the Dragoon through. Gazing up at the Executioner, Ash held his spear to the side.

“Indeed, you are wasting your time… by picking a fight to a losing battle.” said Ash. As he spoke, he felt a power within him that he had never felt before. A burning desire to protect. To save. An overwhelming power like he had never felt before. An aura of blue began to glow around him. In his mind he once again heard the foreign words he didn’t understand, yet knew what they did. Knew what powers they invoked. “That roar of yours… you have quite the will to fight, little kitten. However.”

His aura grew brighter and brighter.

“Can you compare to the roar of the dragon?”

Ash clutched his spear in both his hands to brace himself for the power within him now overwhelming him. The blue aura that surrounded him burn high and bright like a raging fire. Twin dragons swirled around him and screamed to the heavens.

“May God have mercy on your soul. Deus miserere animae meae!”

Outtake:

[thepennydarling]

Happy Friday, Penny Darlings!

Let me just sneak the boring stuff so we can get to the goods! Check me out on Instagram here!  I also have a selling Instagram page where I sell some of my old clothes/styles so that I don’t drown in my own wardrobe.

We’re a little past the half way point of summer, so Preston & I have been lighting a fire under our own butts to get out and have more adventures and do more things!

We live in Central, PA (near the capital and Hershey…yeah, like that Hershey!) – so we have a hodge podge of adventures. In summers past, we’ve hit the battlefields at Gettysburg, Chocolate World at Hershey, and Centralia, the famous city on fire.

So we had to add a new adventure to the list, and I recommended to Preston that we head to the Crayola Experience in Easton, PA. He had NEVER been! I couldn’t believe it! I had gone SO many times as a kid, and I think we even went on a field trip there! (Mom, did I make that up?!). I was so excited for him to see it!

*GIVEAWAY INCLUDED: STAY TO THE END!*

We planned a day trip to the Crayola Experience (and packed a few rainbow items!) and hit the road!

We rolled up to this building:

  So, obviously, we knew we were in for an EXPERIENCE. (a Crayola Experience…I’ll see myself out for that joke!).

I’m obsessed with murals and wall art and interesting buildings so obviously, this made me smile like a lunatic.

That was a big theme throughout the day. While Preston & I walked through, I would get to climb something or play with something  or slide down something or see a Crayola crayon that’s the size of a house, we were just laughing and smiling. It was so fun to just play! It brought back such fun memories and it was fun to watch Preston see everything for the first time!

We also got to go in a little early, so we had the place mostly to ourselves – but towards the end, it filled up with kids and it was INCREDIBLE to see so much joy and how every kid was having a different experience. I saw a little boy running around trying to play with everything at once, and a little girl who just sat down at started quietly coloring, kids climbing the indoor playground, kids naming crayons and shrieking with excitement to see their name on a crayon, some kids taking their time at EVERY room. There was SO MUCH creative energy and they were all having their own Crayola experience. It was truly awesome!

So here’s some different things we got to do!

  Color Playground

This two-story, Crayola marker & crayon, multi-layer indoor Color Playground was the first thing we hit. I was so PUMPED! I literally went down that slide and LAUGHED like crazy because it was so fun! Color Playground is like my inner child DREAM!

    The Adventure Lab

The look on my face in that first picture was SHEER CRAZY JOY because when I stepped on that floor – it went RAINBOW. It wasn’t rainbow when I walked there! THE FLOOR IS INTERACTIVE! It was awesome! This was a puzzle challenge room with lots of cool touch screen tablets.

  Meltdown / Melt & Mold

So the tippy top floor is where we got to play with the Melt Down area where we made a wax painting! (super cool!). And then the Melt & Mold area was where we got to melt crayon’s into these little cool shapes (and you keep them!)

Also, the art installations up there are AMAZING!

  The Colossal Caddy & The Trading Post

The Colossal Caddy is this HUGE amazing installation with a mug full of HUGE crayons, and surrounded by a gazillion regular sized crayons – perfect for coloring and drawing and creating! I saw two little girls sitting there later in the day just coloring quietly!

This was also in the middle of the room with a BUNCH of other things, like selfie stations, arcade games (like ski ball, my fave!) a toddler sized playground, the Crayola Theatre, and a million other little cool things!

  Other Attractions:

We stopped by the gift shop, where Preston was pumped to find something with his name on it (it’s a pretty rare find!).

There’s also the Crayola Timeline as an amazing mural of the progression of the classic yellow Crayola box! One of my favorite things! SO cool!

A wax hand station where you can make your own souvenir mold, a paint station, an 85-foot-water table, & a place to wrap and name my own crayon color rounded out our trip!

  And here’s the absolute craziest part, ya’ll!

WE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO ALL OF IT. There were complete other rooms and activities we didn’t even get to try! It’s the absolute perfect mix of creative energy, Insta-worthy spots, and absolute nostalgia for your inner child! I love feeling that joy and watching kids experience it for the first time!

If you want to check out their map to see ALL of the places (and all the places not featured) – click here!

Check them out on socials here!

Website Facebook Instagram

  *Giveaway*

I’m giving away three pairs of tickets to the Crayola Experience in Easton, PA!

To Enter:

Follow me on Instagram here!

Like the post & tag two friends!

Follow the Crayola Experience! 

  Giveaway Closes 8/5, winner selected 8/6, winner selected at random!

    *this post is sponsored by The Crayola Experience, however all thoughts are my own!*

SO HERE’S THE “END OF BLOG” SPIEL!

If you are at all interested in doing a collab or working with me – please feel free to check out my new Contact Me! page! I also do social media consulting and photography, so please reach out! Let’s work together!

Follow me on Instagram: @thepennydarling

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If you’d like to donate to help me keep Penny Darling going – click here!

Comment for topics you would like to see me cover! Like to help my self esteem! What do you think so far? More fashion? More lifestyle? Do you like the mix?

Thank you for all that you do. You are truly extraordinary.

Love all you wonderful ladies (and gents!) out there!

How Very,

Abby

I'm tickled pink to bring you on our journey out of the classic yellow box and into the Crayola Experience! Happy Friday, Penny Darlings! Let me just sneak the boring stuff so we can get to the goods!