#also the yellow pages are mostly because i left it in the sun A LOT

[willthespy]

I love how books age so I compared my old copy of Radio Silence to my newer copy of Solitaire.

[suzuran777]

Lamento Beyond the Void: Glossary

Since I've been slowly replaying Lamento, I wanted to create my own glossary to link back to my Lamento Expiatio translation posts! I'm sure there's already a lot of information online about Lamento's worldbuilding and the terms they use in the game, however since some pages of the wikia are a bit empty and I'm having trouble finding some older Tumblr blog posts, I decided to make one too.

Most of this is translated directly from the official website, the World Guidebook, and Lamento Green Notes. I tried to keep it consistent with some of the commonly used fan-translation terms, but I also included the Japanese words in case anyone's curious what the original term in the game is.

Shisa/Sisa (祇沙): An island nation surrounded by a yellow ocean. Blocked by coral reefs, the inhabitants of Shisa don't interact a lot with surrounding nations. Officially, the nation's leader is the lord of Ransen, but each village has a strong sense of autonomy. According to the legend, Shisa's sun fell into the sea a long time ago, which dyed the ocean a yellow color.

Moon of Light (陽の月) and Shadow (陰の月) : The Moon of Light rises during daytime, while the Moon of Shadow rises at night. Both moons generate almost no heat, that's why it's said that Shisa's weather feels like spring all year round.

Ribika (リビカ): The inhabitants of Shisa, characterized by their cat ears and tails. They can be divided into two different species, large species and small species. While larger species have stronger bodies and have great fighting abilities, smaller species are more flexible and agile. Smaller species usually larger ears and longer tails compared to bigger species. Even though Ribika don't have the best eyesight, they have excellent hearing abilities and can rotate their ears to determine the location where sound is coming from. When they get angry or excited, their pupils become thin and narrow. Their sense of smell is also very strong. Not only do their tails help them with balance, it's also possible to guess what emotions they're feeling by looking at the movement of their tails. They are natural hunters, therefore their staple food is mostly meat, but they also eat fruits and nuts (such as the Kuim fruit). Most Ribika aren't super interested in food and can easily last several days without eating.

✧General terms✧

Two Canes/Futatsuzue (二つ杖): A race that according to Shisa's legends, once inhabited Shisa. They left their civilization behind, and many can only speculate why they disappeared. It is believed that Two Canes were in fact the humans Razel talked about.

Touga (闘牙): Touga is a term used to describe skilled fighters. They often work together with Sanga as a pair. Unlike Sanga who are born with their abilities, anyone can train to become a Touga. A Touga without a Sanga has no chance of beating a Touga and Sanga pair in battle.

Sanga (賛牙): Sanga are born with a special ability to support others with the power of song, boosting the other person's fighting ability. A Sanga doesn't actually use their voice to sing, the "song" is usually a melody. Because of their special abilities, they are highly sought after.

Sangachou (賛牙長): Literally translates to "Chief Sanga". They are guardian cats who serve the families of Shisa's feudal lords. Sanga are often requested to play a supporting role in the country's national affairs and are sometimes in charge of politics on behalf of their feudal lords.

Devil (悪魔): Ribika aren't the only inhabitants of Shisa, there are also more dangerous beings such as monsters and devils. Devils can be recognized by their horns and tails. It's said that they can make any wish come true, as long as you give them what they want.

The Void/Utsuro (虚ろ): A mysterious phenomenon which has been slowly affecting different areas of Shisa. It consumes all living beings, and the spread of it has made it difficult to hunt for food, often leading to food shortages and starvation.

The Sickness/Shikku (失躯): A deadly disease which leads to pain, fever and the sudden loss of limbs and other body parts. Female Ribika are much more likely to get the disease, which is why they have become very rare.

Black cats: Black cats are considered a symbol of misfortune. It's said that when many black cats are spotted in Shisa, abnormal weather conditions and natural disasters become more common. Because of this stigma, Ribika from villages like Kira do not interact with the outside world.

✧Locations✧

Ransen (藍閃): Shisa's capital, located in the center of the country. This city was built on top of the ruins of the Two Canes, and is characterized by its square-shaped buildings. Ransen is also the city where the country's most important individuals live, such as the feudal lords and their Sanga. The library is also located here, which was the legacy of the Two Canes. It has a large collection of books that describe the history and legends of Shisa. Under normal circumstances, entry is prohibited, but on the last day of winter it becomes a venue for a costume ball and anyone participating can enter the building. Big festivals also take place in this city which attract visitors from all over the country, such as the spring festival and the dark winter festival.

Karou (火楼): A small village located in the southwestern part of Shisa, and also the place where Konoe's house is located. The town is inhabited by a very cautious race of warriors, who learn combat techniques at an early age. They are not very fond of strangers and people rarely leave their houses. It's one of the villages where isolation has become a serious problem due to the Void, and in recent years the extreme food shortages gave them no choice but to resort to cannibalism.

Kira (吉良): A village located deep inside of the secluded valley. A cursed tribe is rumored to live here, whose ears and tails are black, and their bodies covered in strange markings. As a result of these rumors and its hard to find location, even merchants avoid Kira.

Meigi (冥戲): Kira's rival tribe. Its inhabitants are known to be devil worshippers and because of this, they are even more infamous than those who live in Kira.

Setsura (刹羅): A village located in the northern part of Ransen, where large species of Ribika live. Because of their strength and great fighting abilities, many of them become bodyguards or bounty hunters.

Lost Forest/Mayoi no Mori (迷いの森): A vast forest located between Ransen and Karou. The thick branches of the trees and leaves block most of the light, making it an easy place to get lost, even during daytime. Some merchants developed special techniques to navigate the forest, which is why Tokino can travel to Karou without getting lost. Recently, the Void has affected large parts of the forest, eroding its surroundings at an abnormally fast rate, which is why some also refer to it as the Void Forest.

Secluded Valley/Yukoku no Tani (幽刻の谷): Located somewhere inside the Lost Forest. A place covered in a dark, thick fog, where plants and trees wither. It's rumored that the village of Kira is located somewhere in this valley. Most living beings, including animals, avoid this place.

Mirror Lake/Kagami-ko (カガミ湖): A mysterious lake located northeast of Ransen, which is considered one of the biggest mysteries of Shisa. Even though the sound of waves can be heard when approaching the lake, the surface appears to be calm, resembling a mirror. For some reason the surface of the lake is impenetrable, so even walking on it is possible. There is also a cave near the lake, but it cannot be entered under normal circumstances.

✧Mythology✧

Song of the Beginning: According to the legends, Ribika was a goddess and also the wife of Two Canes/Futatsuzue. It is said that she created Shisa after laying a rainbow egg that fell to the earth and shattered, which awakened life. The song Ribika sang while this happened is referred to as "The Song of the Beginning".

Ribika (god): To protect life of those who inhabited Shisa, she took the form of a cat and lived among them. However, in this form she was not able to support the sun any longer, which fell into the sea. She then split the moon into two, the moon of light and the moon of shadow.

Some extra fun facts I wasn't sure where to add in this list:

Konoe and Asato would be considered small species of cats even though Asato's the same height as Bardo, so appearance-wise it seems like only the ears and tails look different.

I think it's pretty obvious that Bardo's supposed to be a tiger and for Rai's a snow leopard, but they just describe Konoe's design as ''milk tea color''.

The books mentions that Ribika are covered in a thin layer of invisible hair which they like to keep clean, which is why they groom themselves, and yes their tongues are similar to real cats.

The reason why Ribika (the species) refer to themselves as ''cats'' is because the cats that appeared in old literature shared the same traits as them (ears and a tail).

For some reason, there are no remaining pictures of what Two Canes looked like, though Razel does confirm they were in fact the same as humans. It's pretty much unknown where humanity went and why all traces of them in the books were erased.

The webcomic has shown some things that were only mentioned in text before in the game, such as designs of what the monsters look like (they kind of look like feline creatures with horns) and human Razel.

In the interviews they mention that they were inspired by Celtic culture and music, specifically Ireland. Shisa isn't supposed to be an existing country, but you do see some inspirations in the game like the Celtic knot patterns.

[lillotte17]

Stars Choose Their Lovers

AN: Because I enjoy making myself sad, I liked the thought of Aziraphale and Crowley having a relationship before the beginning, so I leaned into it a wrote a scene of them in the garden of Eden before Crowley manages to tempt the humans with any apples.

I might come back and add more scenes if the mood strikes me, because the concept is still good, but for now it's just a one shot. :)

~~~

The garden is nice.

Aziraphale supposes that was the entire point of the place, but that didn’t make it any less true. It hummed and bustled and sighed and rustled with everything new and green and growing. In Heaven every sound sang the same, and it always had, and it always would. Every angelic voice was pitched to match in flawless ethereal harmony forever. It was undeniably beautiful, but after a few millennia, its loveliness began to stagnate a bit in Aziraphale’s estimation. It seemed to sound an awful lot like emptiness.

Especially after the Rebellion.

It had not taken Aziraphale long to realize that he had no great fondness for war. There hadn’t been much of a choice about fighting in it, though. Heaven couldn’t simply roll over and let the demons take control of the universe, after all. He had apparently done his part well enough to get assigned to the Eastern Gate of Eden, but the victory had felt as hollow as their Heavenly choirs.

They had lost fellow angels. To both the Fall and the fight that followed. He knew he should not question the Almighty’s decisions. He knew that Lucifer and his ilk were traitors bent on destroying all of God’s new creations. And yet, whilst all the other angels reveled and rejoiced at the ruin and damnation of their former brethren, all Aziraphale could feel was grief.

Being in the garden is better.

None of the new animals make any serious demands of him. The whole of the Heavenly Host is largely focused on the initial pair of breeding humans and what they might be up to, which means that he has mostly been left to his own devices. It doesn’t take a lot of effort to stand in the vicinity of an apple tree and occasionally waggle his finger at anything that came too close. He likes to sit in the shade and feel the solid realness of the place surrounding him. He likes to smell the sweet freshness of the water and the wind and the plants. He likes that the light shining down on his face is warm and golden, and when the long days finally draw to a close and the sun sinks behind the garden walls, he likes to stand in silence and watch the stars.

He hopes that the humans are enjoying them.

The serpent arrives on the sixth hour of the sixth day.

Aziraphale never worked on the designs for any of the garden’s snakes, but he still knows that this one is different. It’s absolutely enormous for starters, but besides that, it also happens to exude an air of malevolence that none of the other occupants of Eden seem to possess. Its yellow gaze lacks the rest of the animals’ simple-minded innocence. And it keeps staring at him.

A demon, then.

Even with the war and its centuries of battles, Aziraphale has never actually killed anything. He would prefer to keep it that way. The peace between them is still fragile, the ink on the truce they signed still metaphorically wet upon the page, with both sides still bruised and aching. Itching for an excuse to lash out at each other once more. Any other angel might have seen this as a good enough reason to start something, but he does not have any direct orders to attack the members of the opposition, and so he won’t. The plants and the animals here are all still newly-made and delicate, and he is meant to be protecting them. Starting an all-out brawl in Eden would create yet another battlefield, and decimate the garden. But perhaps even more than that, he simply does not wish to fight anymore. Flaming sword be damned.

Aziraphale is to guard the Eastern Gate, and the Tree of Knowledge, and thwart the wiles of Evil. He can do all of that without smiting anything. Besides, the demon has not seen fit to do much more than skulk around, watching the humans and himself and the apple tree without doing much to interact with any of them.

It hardly seems worth killing them over.  

He half-heartedly shoos them away with the sword a few times, when it looks as though they might be about to try something, and the snake slithers off without complaint. No words exchanged. No threatening postures. Almost as if the demon is not particularly interested in fighting either.

It feels like a rather uneasy stalemate, but Aziraphale finds it much more tolerable than the alternative. By the end of the day, he is tentatively hopeful that this is the way things will continue for some time. The pair of them circling each other, going through the motions of fulfilling their duties without ever actually landing a hit for either side.

And then the sun goes down, the humans go to sleep, and the serpent unfurls itself into a shape not so different from Aziraphale’s own.

The angel is standing on the wall, looking down into the garden. The demon steps out of the shadows of the trees below and tips their head back, angling their gaze towards the sky. They cut a strange, lanky, angular figure, and they move as though they haven’t used a pair of legs for getting around in quite a long time. The whole of them seems to sway as they walk, black wings stretched wide to help them keep their balance, brushing gently through the foliage as they go. Their robes are as dark as the surrounding night, and the angel might not have noticed them at all if it hadn’t been for their hair. Wild and bright and flickering behind them like the flame from Aziraphale’s sword.

Out in the open, the moonlight paints the edges their features in silver, and if the angel had actually needed to breathe, he might have been in real trouble, because the whole of him freezes on the spot.

Brow furrowed, lips parted slightly, and golden eyes wide with wonder and grief and unfathomable longing, the demon stares up at the stars with a face that Aziraphale had only ever thought to see again in dreams.

He should maintain his distance, he knows. He should hold himself away. But something in the center of his being is raw and wounded in a way he hasn’t felt since before the Rebellion, and when those brilliant yellow eyes finally slide down from the starlight and find him in the dark on the wall, he is fluttering down to join them before he can quite help himself.

The demon tilts his head at him curiously when he lands in the grass a few feet away, but they do not seem particularly afraid. They do not threaten him, but they do not greet him, either. They do not call him by his name.

“What are you doing here?” Aziraphale asks at last, having thought of nothing better to fill the gaping silence between them.

The demon shrugs carelessly.

“Head office just wants to keep the playing field even, I reckon. Prove that even though we lost, we’re not gone. Got to keep the Almighty on her toes. Or something like that, I dunno. She probably doesn’t even have toes.”

Aziraphale manages not to roll his eyes, but it is a near thing.

“No, I meant what are you doing here?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you! Why did they send you here, instead of…someone else?”

The demon laughs, and it is a sharp, mocking sound.

“Who else should they have sent instead?” They wonder.

‘Someone I didn’t know. Someone I didn’t-’

“Oh, never mind!” He snaps at them instead, heat rising in his face. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. You’re a demon.”

“You thought that Hell might send someone up here who wasn’t?”

“No, of course not, I meant-” He nearly bites down on his own tongue to stop the sentence from completing itself. He meets their gaze. Holds it longer than he should. Looking for traces of lost things. A hint of deep brown in a field of yellow. “Do you…know who I am?”

“Course I do!” The demon grins toothily. Aziraphale’s throat tightens as surely as if they had wrapped all ten of their long fingers around it and squeezed. “You’re the Angel of the Eastern Gate. God’s chosen little cherub to mind the Tree of Knowledge. Very important, I must say. Very imposing. You must have made quite an impression with the right people during the war.”

He is not certain if he feels more staggered by disappointment or annoyance, but his wings droop just the same. He glances away. Tugging at the sleeves of his tunic in agitation, floundering a bit as he struggles to think of a reason not to leave.

“You say that, but you don’t seem to be particularly intimidated by me.” He notes glumly.

“Hm, should I be?”

“I am the one with a sword,” he reminds them.

“And are you going to use it on me?” The demon wonders with a wide, curling grin.

Aziraphale makes a face.

“Well, It would serve you right if I did!”

They laugh at him, not sounding the least bit cowed. There’s no meanness in it this time, though. None of their earlier mockery. If anything, they seem genuinely amused. Golden eyes catching specks of starlight, reflecting their delight.

He opens his mouth, their name bright and burning on the tip of his tongue, but he thinks better of it, in the end. Purses his lips tightly and swallows it back down. The fallen angels had lost their names along with their grace and…everything else. It wouldn’t be right to use it now.

“What were you doing out here, anyway?” He asks instead, sounding terse and feeling haggard. “The humans are both sleeping, you’ve got no one to lure in with one of your evil schemes.”

“Oh, I dunno,” the demon shrugs again, still smiling, “There’s always you, isn’t there?”

Aziraphale stiffens, expression souring exponentially.

“That is not funny,” he huffs, sticking his chin out and puffing himself up a little as he turns away. He stretches his wings wide, intending to retake his position up on the wall. The demon takes a half step closer, edging around him before he can get away.

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that, alright?” they say in a rush, holding up their hands in a gesture of peace, “Nothing in my job description involves tarnishing anybody’s halo, I’m just here to ruffle some feathers, that’s all. And…”

“And?” 

 Their gaze slides back up towards the sky.

“And I wanted to see…”

Aziraphale follows their line of sight. It really is quite beautiful. The colors are not nearly as vivid as the view from the nebula he remembers them making when they first met, but it is certainly nothing to turn one’s nose up at.

“You wanted to see the stars?”

“Nng, well… Yeah.” They grunt, looking a bit uncomfortable about it and scratching a spot on their nose. “Believe it or not, the view from Hell leaves a lot to be desired.”

“You don’t say.”

The stand together in silence for a time. The demon watching the heavens. The angel watching them in turn.

“You know… You can see even more of them from the wall.” Aziraphale mentions casually, finally turning away and spreading his wings again to fly off.

“Was that an offer?” The demon wonders.

“It was a statement,” he replies coolly, “What you decide to do with that information is entirely up to you.”

Without a second look back, Aziraphale flaps his wings and takes off. It is a short flight back to his initial perch, but he makes sure to keep his eyes fixed on the empty wilderness beyond the garden walls. He doesn’t wish to give the impression that he is hoping for the demon to follow him up, after all.

Barely a minute passes before a fluttering of dark feathers has the demon landing deftly on the wall beside him. They give a low appreciative whistle, turning this way and that as they try to look in every direction at once. Aziraphale fights the urge to smile.

“Well, you certainly weren’t lying about the view from up here.”

“I never lie,” Aziraphale sniffs, “I’m an angel.”

“Of course not,” they smirk, “Otherwise you’d be just like me, wouldn’t you?”

“Well…that is…” He trails off, but the demon seems to have gone back to looking at the stars, so it doesn’t seem to matter much that he is lacking a witty reply. The yearning has crept its way back into their expression, and Aziraphale aches to see it despite himself.

“Do you…remember anything at all from when you were an angel?” he wonders.

“Mm, I remember… Not much, honestly.” They confess with a deep exhale of breath they had no need to be holding. “Just enough for it to hurt. Which was the point, I imagine.”

“They said it was meant as an act of mercy.” Aziraphale says without much conviction.

“Did they, now?” they chuckled dryly, “And does that seem merciful to you?”

“I don’t know,” he admits with a shake of his head, “I suppose it is kinder not to remember all the things you must have lost after the war. There are few things I would not mind forgetting.”

“Even if those memories are what make you who you are?”

“Well, it isn’t as though it changes your soul, does it?” Aziraphale asks, giving them a sidelong glance.

“I’m not so sure,” they grunt in reply, “I mean…I know I’m not the same as the angel I was created to be. I can’t be. Not anymore.”

“But maybe someday… I mean, the Almighty could always change their mind.”

“Even if she did, I wouldn’t.” They hiss out, sharp and fierce. Aziraphale flinches slightly, and they relent somewhat. They sound both resigned and determined as they continue. “Choices were made. Bridges burned. The angel that I was before… They don’t exist anymore. They’re gone. Forever.”

Aziraphale feels cold and heavy. As if his wings could not even begin to bear his weight if he tried to fly off to somewhere else. He can tell that his expression is starting to crumple in on itself, so he turns away.

He remembers, even if they cannot. The way their face lit up with unbridled joy and wonder. Wings and arms and hair all bouncing with delight. Always moving, always reaching out with curiosity and optimism. Watching new nebulas and galaxies and solar systems bloom in the empty darkness of space. Watching him.

Soft hands. White feathers. Crisp clean robes. Gold-limed beauty in both word and silence. Questions and hope and creation. Everything gentle. Everything new.

They hadn’t put a name to anything. There was no word for it yet. It hadn’t been invented. But something about their companionship had struck the very chord of their existence, and the resonance of the harmony they made together felt strong enough to shake the very stars.

Or at least, Aziraphale thought it had.

“I…I’m sorry to hear that.” He squeezes out at last.

“Are you?” The demon wonders, peering at him curiously.

“I am.” He says quietly, refusing to meet their eyes.

“Well…stop it.” They say, their mouth twisting up into a frown. “I didn’t ask for your pity.”

“Of course.”

“…”

“…”

“…You’re still doing it, aren’t you?” They accuse after a few more moments of awkward silence, narrowing their eyes at him.

“You are not the only one who lost things in the Great War.” Aziraphale snaps.

The demon blinks at him, slightly taken aback.

“No…I suppose I’m not.” They huff, shaking out their wings a little. “And you have to remember all of it.”

“I do.”

“I guess I’m the lucky one, then.” They chuckle darkly. “First time that’s ever happened.”

“How do you know that you are the lucky one if you can’t remember anything?”

“Nnngh, well… That’s…a fair point.” They concede with another long breath. “I still remember the stars, though. That’s something.”

‘The stars, but not me,’ Aziraphale smiles bitterly.

“They are beautiful,” he notes instead.

“I think I might have made them,” The demon tells him, golden eyes scanning across a billion specks of light, as if trying to gather every last one, “Not all of them, mind you, but a fair few. Mine were further out, I think. Hard to find them from here.”

“Well, so long as you don’t cause any trouble, you can look for your stars as long as you wish,” Aziraphale says.

“I think…that they remind me of someone.”

Aizraphale freezes.

“Oh, really?” He asks, striving to sound casual even as his voice rises a full octave. “Who?”

“Hm, not sure,” they hum, mostly to themselves, “I feel like I’d know them if I saw them, though.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows shoot towards his hairline, but the rest of his features remain remarkably unimpressed.   

“Would you indeed?”

“Nngh, pretty sure.” They pause for a moment to consider things. “Then again, might be best if I don’t. Probably lead to something messy. That’s the trouble when you don’t remember people. No way to know what the last thing you said to them was. Don’t much fancy the idea of some angel seeing my face and smiting me on sight because of some row I can’t remember.”

“You know that this person is an angel, then?” Aziraphale presses.

“Well, I know they must have been before, you know, all the fighting, anyway,” the demon shrugs, “We were all angels at one point, weren’t we? But I suppose they could have fallen, too. Doesn’t seem right, though. I think they would have found me already if they had.”

“Perhaps they were lost during the war?”

“…You might be right,” they agree, slowly, “But I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“I think…if they were completely gone, it would feel less…”

“Less what?”

“Less…everything.” They say, making a fluttering gesture with their hands to emphasize the point.

“I see,” Aziraphale says, even though he is not entirely certain that he does, “So, are you going to try looking for them? You star angel?”

They shake their head at him.

“Can’t see much point in it, really.” They tell him, a smile curling up the edges of their mouth that does not reach their eyes. “The angel they knew is gone, like I said. And so are my memories. I don’t even know what we were to each other. Best of friends. Worst of enemies. Annoying workmates. Doesn’t matter. It’s all gone. It’s too late to get any of it back, now. All that’s left is the stars.”

“All that’s left is the stars,” Aziraphale repeats quietly, a tremor running through his voice, “And even they will be fading out soon. It’s nearly dawn. Come on, we should both get back to the garden and go our separate ways before the humans wake up. Don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. We are enemies, after all.”

The demon grins at him, wide and sharp and toothy, spreading their wings wide before fluttering back down into the greenery.

“Aren’t we just?”

[bluesdesk]

ZELDA HEADCANONS

Sun:

-- considers "Zelda" and "Hylia" as 2 different identities. When she has to act as Hylia (to give a serious order, to do some magic...), she moves her fringe to her left side. Also when Sky makes her angry in a discussion she is like: "remember I can be Hylia!" and  not "remember I'm Hylia"

-- she wears shorts under her dresses, she would be pretty uncomfortable without them.

-- She has a very strong personality, like a girlboss, and she's as chaotic as Tetra

-- She's Hylia, and so she must handle magic pretty well. Also Sky didn't have problems, if not more frequent nightmares and lightning scars and fear of thunderstorms... But "fear of thunderstorms" doesn't even count! However, she noticed her hair became lighter near the tips, and wavier.

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

Dot:

-- the girly princess? No way! She grew up with Four, she's a smith too, she loves adventures and festivities. The fucsia jacket is a hoodie (she covers the hood with her cloack), she wears leggings and seakers nunder the dress, that's actually a high waisted long skirt she can remove

-- her hair is kinda orangey! Also it's pretty long

-- she's a relative of Four! In the italian version of Minish Cap she refers to Link's grandpa as "uncle Smith". This might mean Smith is her uncle, grand-uncle or greta-granduncle? Dot's mom might be Smith's younger sister for example.

-- She had a pretty simple life before MC and FS.  Dot had learnt some magic because of the whole "descendant of a goddess" thing. Not much, and she preferred to not use it. So, when she got petrified by Vaati's magic, she got the signs of it. Her hands and feet are as small as when she was 12 (MC), and her hair got way straighter than before. And when Vaati kidnapped her, she got some eye markings, like tattoos, on her arms.

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

Lullaby:

-- genderfluid! But their father doesn't really support them and when they feel like a boy they just become Sheik and go in the woods or at Lon Lon!

-- They have a tanned skin and dark blonde hair

--They do want to be a mom though. Dusk is their daughter!

-- They can handle magic well, but Lullaby turned into Sheik for the first time when they were really young, and this had an impact on them. Their blue eyes became red with the Sheik mask (yeah I headcanon it as a mask!), and the repetitive use of it made their eye color turn from blue to violet even when they're "Zelda". They also got a sheikah eye symbol on their left eye, which they cover with their hair.

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

Dusk:

-- She grew up with her grandpa (Lullaby's father)

-- She has Lullaby's skin color! Also she's thin and tall

-- She  didn't attend a royal/exclusive school but went at Twi's same one so they were friends as kids. She also studied swords and archery!

-- She simply didn't recognize Twi as a wolf, she thought he had become a spirit, because she didn't know he had the triforce too!

-- When Ganondorf turned her into his puppet, her skin became pale, and she had those black scars/signs and her eyes turned yellow. Her light power kinda healed this, but she now has light brown eyes, that turn blue when she's really happy and yellow when she's angry. Her skin color changed back to normal but her lips are always more violet than normal and she still has those black scars.

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

Artemis:

-- Dusk's great-great-granddaughter! She has a similiar face, but her colors are different. Also she has chubbier legs.

--When the war started, she took the master sword and trained with it, until Impa told her she had to leave it for the next hero

-- She's been training with magic for a long time, since she can really use it perfectly, and she masters different kinds of magic. Every scar/sign she got is from the enemies' weapons, and not magic

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

Flora:

-- She refused the whole princess/goddess thing, she just refers to herself as a scholar, researcher and adventure.

-- she loves Sheikah clothing!  She has stealth lessons with Paya

-- she tries to imitate Wild's cooking in secret, but she refuses to admit it because of the "powerful hero/ useless princess" thing

--She has also been training a lot with magic, and when she sealed herself and Calamity Ganon, her powers were awake. But being sealed for 100 years, with constant light powers on, and Calamity Ganon surely did something. The constant light made her photosensitive, and her hands are burnt, not as badly as Wild's face of course, but you can recognize they are. The usage of a newly awakened magic, for so long time and with that intensity made her unable to use magic for the next years after she came back, and if she'll ever get her magic back, it'll be only few.

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

Tetra:

-- She grew up knowing her name wad Tetra. She didn't know it was just a nickname, so for her "Zelda" is a nickname she doesn't even like. In the italian version of WW/PH, her name is Dazel. She prefers Dazel over Zelda when she has to do royal stuff.

-- even as Zelda her skin is dark and her hair is all curly

-- Wind's grandma loves her and already adopted her in her mind XD but she keeps telling her she needs warmer clothes and she also gives her lots of Wind's clothes that became too small for him

-- she has blonde freckles on her dark skin, Aryll says she's a starry night

-- chubby!!

-- She had never heard of magic before her first adventure, so you might imagine she must have taken it really badly. She has a messed up sleping schedule and she falls asleep in the strangest ways, positions, and times. One second she's arguing with you, the next moment she's asleep, even if she's on her feet, this thing can get dangerous for her so she always brings someone (mostly Wind) with her. She has scratches everywhere from her petrification too, and being petrified surely didn't help with her previous situation.

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

Fable:

-- she loves to wear pink and sky blue together! Pink is her favorite color and sky blue represents the goddess. She's a fan of jewels too!

-- Don't touch her hair, she'd get mad!

--Legend's step sister and somehow twin! She and Legend have different mothers and the same father (the father became a king after the marriage with Fable's mom, the queen). Oddly enough, they were born the same day of the same year.

-- She knows how to use a sword but she mostly uses magic and she can kick pretty well!

-- She can use magic almost perfectly, like Artemis! However, being in a painting gave her some lighter/"discolored" spots on her skin, pretty much like vitiligo. Just few spots, as she could handle that magic well too.

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

Aurora:

-- a child. She's like 10/12. A pretty smart kid!

-- redhead, tanned skin, curly hair and lots of freckles!

-- autistic, her stims are most likely jumping and moving her arms! She loves springs and water in general, she could spend her entire days with fairies in a spring! Pretty enthusiastic about literally anything too!

-- she sees Hyrule as an older brother

-- She had negative memories about her brother, and giving the adjective "brother" to Hyrule is  like turning the page, seeing that adjective with a new meaning

--The poor kid often thinks her dreams are reality. She has problems in distinguishing vivid dreams from reality as she had been asleep for too much. On the other hand, she barely sleeps.

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

BONUS:

Phantom/Angel (Spirit Tracks!):

As the great granddaughter of Tetra, Phantom and Link should be related (One of Spirit and one of Phantom's parents must be cousins) Unless Spirit isn't the great grandson of Tetra and Wind... but maybe the great grandson of Aryll instead! This would explain why Spirit is in contact with the pirate crew but not royal, and since their first common relative is so distant (Wind and Aryll's parents) they wouldn't be considered as related and the fact they didn't know each other before would have more sense

-- She took her personality from Tetra AND Wind: her will to help and be a hero too, still being a bit sassy, and a little rebel (escaping from the castle). She's like, a perfect mix of their personalities.

-- As for her design, she has wavy hair, a slightly tanned skin (she's not dark skinned, unlike Tetra), she loves earrings and she has a lot of them!

-- She wasn't used to magic, she knew that but not too much, so being a phantom and leaving her body because of said magic had an impact on her. Her eyes were originally dark blue like Tetra, but they're now pink to purple and yellow! Her skin got lighter after ST, and so she wears makeup to seem less pale. Her eyes get irritated easily (red eyes when possessed) and she spaces out a lot, sometimes she has dissociative events

[sunflowerryvol6]

Sweet Summer

No warnings, just pure fluff.

WC: 3.6k

Long time no see! I hope you like this! I'll try and link the songs on this page, but no promises. Leave any suggestions for stories you'd like to see! Also, do comment, and tell me what you like about these two! As always, feedback is always welcome.

Check out my masterlist

You could listen to the songs here. I listened to this while writing this.

'I know how the summer goes' softly played in the background; she was sticky with sweat. She was sprawled on the floor of their bedroom. He sat on the bed above her. She was working on an essay on summer love for her column, the deadline was fast approaching. She looked to her left, and their room overlooked the ocean. The window opened to the bedroom patio, where they would often sit and work during the summer. Today he was oiling her hair while she worked hard on her piece. He'd just wrapped up, so he offered to help ease out some stress. She laid her head on the side on his knee and looked out to the sun shining down on the beach.

Ellie could almost touch the memory of when she first realised she was in love with Harry.

4 years earlier...

They'd been dating for a few weeks now. Harry planned the first date, so she arranged the second one. She'd quickly realised that Harry loved his walks. Working as a software developer left him with little to no time to move around. So he takes any opportunity to exercise or move his body. Ellie was a freelance journalist who's spent the better part of the last two years working from home. The idea of walking around or being on her feet was too taxing because of her chronic pain. But she liked harry, didn't she. So that's what she kept telling herself. When her hips hurt a little too much, or when she pulled her back from walking around too long. It'd all be worth it in the end. It had to be.

On this particular evening, they'd decided to meet up for a gig. Harry had found this artist that was playing in a bar downtown, so they'd meet there. She walked up to him and kissed him on the lips. "Hello to you too" He smiled.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I just missed you." She smiled wide. "I missed you too." He linked their arms and walked into the bar. He asked her to go ahead, and he'd join her with drinks. She walked on and waited for the band to start playing. He found his way back to her soon enough, with their favourite beverages.

Once the gig was over, they walked out of the bar and discussed where they should go to get dinner. "So, there's this brilliant taco place just down the road. We can walk there. What'd you say?" He smiled at her.

"Oh sure, let's." Ellie knew this wasn't the best decision. She'd be in a whole lot of pain by the end of the evening. She had work tomorrow, a deadline she couldn't miss. But It had to be worth it, right?

"What'd do you want to listen to today?" She suggested. She dug into her bag to find the earphone connector and offered it to him. They'd do this a lot, listen to music together, a new genre every date, sometimes their favourite albums. The last time they were listening to Harry's 70's indie playlist. You can tell a lot about a person by the music they heard. This was quite the ice breaker during their first few dates, so they decided to make it a thing. Now they would sometimes pick certain words or phrases and listen to what came up.

"Guilty pleasures?" He asked. "I can tell you, but I'm afraid it won't make for a great romantic walk down a dark road" She smiled. "I can take it." He laughed.

So she did. They blasted an old rock playlist, with mostly Cream. "You really love Cream, huh?" He said after a bit. "More than Neutral Milk Hotel," She told straightfaced. He blinked at her for a sec and burst out laughing. "That was a terrible one. Worse than my puns, God!" He laughed.

"These tacos better be mind fucking blowing, Styles," She says. Her hips were starting to ache a little. "Yes, Ma'am. I wouldn't dare disappoint you." He smiled. Their conversation went on about things here and there. Soon they reached the taco truck, right by the side of the road. The place was packed with people. Patrons had resorted to sitting on the pavement because of the wait.

"Okay, their birria tacos are the best, but we can get something else if you'd like?" Harry asked her. "Oh, that actually sounds absolutely perfect. Do you mind if I go get us a spot while you go get the food?" Ellie asked. "Sure, you do that." He said and leaned to kiss her cheek and made his way to the truck.

Ellie walked towards the pavement and slowly sat down. The moment her bum hit the pavement softly, she knew she was in a world of pain. Only more was waiting for her the longer this night went. She quickly dug into her purse to get out her cigarettes and lit one. It set in some ease, but it wasn't enough. She needed to get home, but what'd she tell Harry? Her experience telling people about her chronic pain has always ended up in them pitying her or not entirely believing her. Now, don't be fooled. She's in pain, but she didn't want no one's pity. She just wanted someone to recognise the pain and help her find a goddamn solution to it. In contemplating her exit strategy, she didn't realise she started tearing up. She quickly stubbed her cigarette and switched on some music to distract her. She waited patiently till Harry arrived with the food.

Harry walked over to Ellie with their food in his hand. Only to find her doubled over with her head on her knees. He rushed to her, placed their food on the pavement, and nudged her shoulder. "Ellie, are you okay?" He asked her gently. Ellie looked up, and she looked like she was in a lot of pain. "Hey! What's wrong? Why are you crying?" He seemed very concerned now. "I'm in a lot of pain right now, and it flares up when I'm on my feet for too long. I'd been out all day before we met, and I wasn't expecting us to walk around so much." She all but cried. "Oh, you poor thing. I'll call a cab right now, and I'll take you home, okay?" Harry said, his hand gently rubbed her arm. She sniffled in response.

The cab arrived soon enough. Harry helped her into the car and got in after her. "Would you like to try and sleep till we get there? I can keep an eye on the map." He offered. "Thank you." She said before leaning her head against the window and closed her eyes.

"Ellie, darling. We're here." His voice broke her out of the soft slumber she'd fallen into. She opened her eyes and looked out, and sure enough, they were outside her apartment building. She got out of the cab and started walking towards her door, expecting him to follow her. Still, she turns around to check, and he's about to call out to her. "Are you not going to come upstairs?" She questioned. "I need to make one more stop. I'll be up in 10." He shrugged. "Okay, don't be too long." She says and continues walking.

Harry takes the cab to the nearest store and buys a pack of Epsom salt. His sister would always soak her feet in Epsom salt and hot water after ballet lessons. So he knew this would bring Ellie some relief.

Whenever they'd had a sleepover, they always end up at Harry's place, so he'd never really been here to her home. Her door was a dark pink, kind of Fuschia. He turned the knob, and it was open, so he walked in. The place was filled with little trinkets and plants and other knick-knacks all over the place. The centre of attention had to be her bright yellow couch. All her furniture was pointed at this showcase filled with other ceramic figurines. It was very colourful. If you look at Ellie, you wouldn't expect her to live here. Her style is muted and minimalistic, apart from her hair. That was always a bright colour. This time it was bright pink, very close to the colour of her door. He wondered if she changed the colour of her door as often as she changed her hair. But otherwise, she wore blacks mainly with an occasional cream and some other muted colours. So why the eccentricity in her décor, he wondered. He didn't ask her, though.

"So I think a hot bath would really help you, I got some Epsom salt, and you know, we could try it?" He asked her hesitantly. "A long bath can help ease your pain," he said. "Yeah, I'd like that," she said. "You wait here; I'll set it up." He ventured into her flat. She took off her jacket, walked into her kitchen and took out a joint. Holding the joint in between her fingers, she looked for the lighter and slowly lit it. Walked back to the couch, took off her pants and sweater she was wearing and laid back on the sofa and took a long drag. She knew now she could relax, and the pain would slowly ease up.

Meanwhile, in her bathroom, Harry was running a bath for her. He sat on the edge of the tub with his hand underwater to check the water temperature. Once it was hot enough, Harry walked back to the living room. He walked in on her, smoking the joint, for the first time that evening, he saw her so relaxed and quiet. He didn't want to disturb her. But she opened her eyes, "Hey you" she smiled. He reached for her. "The bath is ready. Come on," He said. She took his hand and got up. She stood on her tippy toes and kissed him, and he kissed her back, slowly supporting his palm on her lower back. He deepened the kiss, she put her arms around his neck. He smiled into the kiss and pulled away.

"I really like you, you know?" He held her in place with his arm around him and looked at her. His gaze bore into her. "I'm here for you, so you have to tell me how I can help you," He said. That's when Ellie looked away. She started walking towards the bathroom and looked over her shoulder. "Come sit with me?" She asked. "Of course." He said. "Can you bring me the ice pack from the freezer, please?" She called out. He turned around and walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge to get the ice pack. He checked the time on his phone and walked back into her bathroom.

Ellie was already in the bathtub, and there was music playing softly while she smoked. He sat on the toilet and passed her the ice pack. "Here you go," He said. In return, she handed him the joint. He gave her a small smile and took it from her. He took a long drag and leaned back on the seat to stretch his legs a bit. She had these tiny pots of creepers wound up on different pipes all over her bathroom. She held the icepack to her face and felt so much relief.

"Elle, are you feeling any better?" He asked her. She nodded. Did the day go just like you wanted? played softly as she hummed along to it. "I know you want me to tell you what's going on, but I'm afraid you'll think I'm crazy," She said, not looking at him. "Darling, try me. I'm here to listen," He offered. He was still nursing the joint, looking like some kind of greek god. Just casually sitting on her toilet and observing her so carefully, she felt safe. Ellie's pain had calmed down a bit. The hot bath was helping quite a bit.

"Okay, so here goes, I took a fall about three years ago, and it kind of fucked my knee up. So I couldn't exercise much, and I wasn't moving around much. After a few months, I tried to do a simple workout, just to get back into the routine, but I was in an excruciating amount of pain." She looked up at him and saw that he'd moved to sit on the floor closer to her. When she looked up, he reached for her hand with a smile and held it. His rings felt cold on her hands as he slowly pressed the points on her fingers. It felt perfect. So she focused on that and continued. "After that, I went to a doctor to figure why it happened, but they couldn't understand because there weren't markers on the tests they did. Over the years, I went to all kinds of practitioners to help me find a solution to this pain, if not an answer to what it is. But they just kept saying it's in my head and not really give me an answer. I went to a psychiatrist, and they tried medication for depression. It only made me very drowsy and inefficient at work. But other than that, I don't really know what it is. I'm just hurting all the time." She sighed.

"Ellie, that is not okay. You shouldn't be in this amount of pain. I'm so glad you told me about it." He said. Harry reached for a stray strand on her face and pushed it back, and ran his thumb along her cheek. "Over time, I have stopped talking to people about this, 'cause it's not going change anything, and they just end up pitying me. So I did the next best thing, I bought this flat and made my home chronic pain friendly. I work from home, so I don't exert myself and have done that for over 2 years now. It's awfully lonely, though."

"I can't imagine how that must feel. For the record, I don't pity you. I just wish you'd told me before, then I wouldn't make our dates so hard on you. But wait. Did I cause you a lot of pain when we had sex?" He worried his lip and looked at her. "Oh no! You didn't at all. I just didn't want you to think I'm somehow weak and can't take care of myself. Today was a lot, and I'd been out for a couple of meetings for some upcoming projects, and it just all ended up weighing me down." She was tearing up now. "Darling, please don't cry. I don't think you can't take care of yourself. I think it was incredibly responsible of you to tell me when you reached your limit. I'm happy to accommodate whatever you need." He said to her. She could tell he was earnest. "Thank you, Harry. It feels good to be able to tell someone and have them believe me." She said to him.

They had been listening to Sea Change by Beck while they smoked together. He sat on the floor of her bathroom, with his legs stretched out and his hand in the water, holding one of her ankles. Just as a reassurance that he wasn't leaving. They talked mindlessly. He asked her about her ceramic figurines, and she told him that her grandma used to collect them, then her mom, and now she does. She brought them with her when she moved to this city. Her favourite one was the teal coloured soapstone hippo. She used to have heart-shaped soapstone, but she gave it to an ex who threw it away after they broke up. Just like that, he told her about the first time he fell in love. How he likes to keep in touch with his exes because they all ended mutually and were lovely people. She told him about her first break-up. They exchanged sibling horror stories. He told her about his niece Willow, whom he lovingly calls Willy. She hadn't realised until then, as they listened to the saddest break-up albums of all time, that Harry was in it for the long haul. "Think you're ready to move to the bed?" He asked as he rubbed his eyes. She slowly got up, and he stood up to help her out of the bath. Pulled up a towel for her and handed it to her. She walked over to her drawer and pulled out a pair of pyjamas for herself. He undressed into his boxers and placed his clothes on the wing chair next to her windowsill. She got into bed and opened the covers up for him. Her room was decorated the same, but fewer breakable items were in there. She had a few pictures of her family upon her wall, and a dog that he assumed was her childhood pet. He climbed in. "Small spoon?" He asked her; she answered by wrapping his around her and laid her head on his chest. He slowly ran his fingers through her hair, and she sighed in contentment. "You know, when I first realised that they weren't gonna be able to find what's wrong with me, I'd listen to 'If you're feeling sinister a lot. It was kind of a constant at the time." she said.

"When Stuart Murdoch wrote the album, he was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome, so he was on bed rest for a long time. He used to look out of his window and see all these people living their lives, and he'd feel so left out? So he poured all that yearning into it. One of the songs even has an overlay of children playing in the background. That album got me through some dark times." Harry was running a finger along her arm, raising goosebumps on her warm skin. Harry places a kiss on her hair, "You know when, Willow, was a little girl. I'd play this game with her during bedtime. It would really tire her out and change her mind from being upset for having to go to bed. Do you want to try it?" He says. "Sure, why not?" She smiles and places a kiss on his tattooed chest.

"Close your eyes. No peeking, okay?" He looks over to check a pokes a finger in her side to make sure, and she bursts out in giggles. "Okay! I promise." She laughs out. He holds her closer and takes a deep breath, her hair smells of berries and residual smoke, and he decides then that's his favourite smell. "We're on a hill. It's cold out. Both of us huddled under a blanket, looking at the sky. It's just us there, so it's very quiet. You can hear the birds around and the slight wind. When it touches you, you dig yourself closer to me, and I hold you a little tighter, just like I am right now." She listens carefully, picturing precisely what it would look like. She wonders if they have any pets with them, "Can we have a dog?" She asks, "Of course, whatever you'd like, pet." He says. "Okay, so we have a dog, a dalmatian puppy. What do you think her name should be?" She asks him. "You want a girl, huh?" He smirked at her. "Uh yeah, they're best, of course." She said as a matter of factly. "Um, what do you think of birdie?" "I love it." she smiles. "Birdie is running circles around our blanket. She's completely enchanted by butterflies and jumping up and down to get to them. She smells like lavender shampoo and puppy smell. She has a small spot on her nose that's shaped like a heart. That's what made you pick her at the pound. She's wearing a baby pink collar with a gold medallion which has her name engraved on it. She just saw us watching her, so now rushing to cuddle. She comes running to us and lands herself right in between, and we take her inside the blanket and settle in for a good ol' nap." Listening to him describe in such detail a life that he envisions for the two of them makes her feel so full of love.

"I feel so full and happy. A little hazy with that feeling, so much so that I can't remember what I was upset about." She smiles into his chest. "I told you, it'll help. It's tried and tested, ma'am." He says, ruffling her hair a bit. "Thank you so much, Harry. Thank you for staying and taking care of me and making sure I was okay. Thank you for listening to me and not judging me and just being here." She tears up a little.

"Hey, no tears." He says, wiping a stray tear that escaped. "And, you don't have to thank me at all. I just want you to be honest with me, so I can be there for you. You don't need to carry this all on your own. If you allow me, I'd like to ease the burden a little bit." He says as he runs his thumb along her cheek.

Now...

The loud barking from the other room jolts her out of her daydream. She looks up to see the reason behind the sound. Birdie comes running towards their bed with her toy, all prepared to jump up, but Harry stops her. "Birdie, no! Don't jump on Mummy!" "It's okay, Harry." Ellie reaches for Birdie. "You spoil her so much, she'd never going to learn." "Oh come on, sweets, it's our vacation. You have to let her get away with some things."

He sits up, and Birdie immediately places herself on his lap and whines for him to scratch her. He happily obliges. "Now, my darling wife, come here and give me a kiss before I take our baby out for a wee." You smile and lean up for a kiss. He kisses your nose once before getting out of bed and walking over to wear a pair of shorts. He turns around to Ellie, and says "Are you feeling up to a picnic?"

She smiles and hits save on the document she was typing. "Yes, I'll get the snacks ready. Give me five minutes." She places the laptop on the bed and walks over to him. She reaches on her tippy toes and grabs him by the neck, and gives him one big kiss.

[imagineddworld]

Unexpected

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: After serving detention with your favorite teacher, true feelings get revealed. 

Word counter: 3,5 K (3500)

Author’s note: I made Remus a new, young teacher, and the student just turned 18. There is still a 5 years difference, but I tried to make it a bit more comfortable for people who don’t really like big age gabs.

I also tried to make it gender neutral, so if you guys have any tips; that would be great. 

Didn’t proof read this, as lack of time with my exams very near. But I wanted to post something. As expected it turned out longer than I had meant to

Hope you enjoy xx 

The time had come where the seventh years were learning how to make Amortentia. A potion well known to most curious students as the love potion. But it was a very tough one to make. You got all the ingredients right, but the brewing method messed you up every time. Same for today, it had started to fog an odd green smoke. It was at least better than the time where it had blown up in Snape’s face. You had never received such a big punishment as then. You were given 5 essays to write and served detention for a whole month. 

“Detention Miss/Mister (Y/L)”, you heard the cold, monotone voice from behind you, “You can serve it with Professor Lupin after class. He needs help with grading essays”. You already had predicted this outcome to happen, but tried to argue anyway. “But-”, you silenced yourself as soon as you saw his cold glare. You sighed, slumping back in your chair. “Okay”, you mouthed silently, while making a mocking face. “That will be two detentions”, you heard him say angrily. You threw your arms in the air as a sign of annoyance, but didn’t say anything else. You started to clean your cauldron, hoping in the last minutes of class he wouldn’t give you more detentions or worse, gave you another essay to write. He really hated the living hell out of you. As one of the new teachers, together with Professor Lupin, you hand’t expected to be hate so much. You rarely did anything. Perhaps even breathing was too much for him. But there was not much you could do about it. You realized that the hard way. Most of the time you argued with him, but one particular time he had enough of your snarky comments. He had given you detention for nearly two months, making you clean all the little, dirty places of Hogwarts. All magic was forbidden, you needed to clean it all by hand. And as bonus to top it all off, he overloaded you with essays to write. Every week you needed to give two writer essays of 10 pages at least. After that event, you didn’t bother arguing much. 

The rest of the day went by as normal, mostly spend with your nose in your books. As your final class ended, you quickly dropped off the unnecessary books at your dorm that couldn’t fit in your bag. You only kept the ones you needed for your essay. The one you were planning to write after your detention. Your dorm seemed further away from Professor Lupin’s office, resulting in you needing to sprint through the halls. Luckily the halls were less crowded. Only a few students were chatting in the hallway, laughing with their friends and keeping each other up to date. When you reached the door, you were out of breath. Partly from the running and partly from your nerves. Your heart was pounding too, and you hands were shaking the slightest bit. You took in some deep breaths and tried to calm yourself. 

Detention with Remus Lupin made you more nervous than you had expected. He wasn’t just your favorite teacher, because of his amazing teaching skills. But also due to his kind character and beautiful looks. You had unexpectedly started to grow feelings for him. He had an amazing sweet and kind soul. His blue eyes sparkled every time he taught your class something new. Every time you got mesmerized by them, losing yourself into the beauty of the blue irises. Fascinated by the swirls of colors that came out when the light captured them from a certain perspective. His smile never failed to make your heart flutter. Every time he called your name during class, your face became beat red. His scars were a beautiful contrast against his slightly reddened cheeks. 

You had thought the fact that he was your teacher, would disgust you. But technically he wouldn’t be your teacher anymore in 2 months. And also the fact that there were only a few years between the two of you, made it more acceptable. He was a fairly new and young teacher. A lot of girls probably had crushed on him, so you weren’t to blame. It’s not like you could control your feelings. As long as you kept it hidden, you were fine. 

Your hands were shaking more, as you realized what was about to happen. Your heart started to pick up its beat up again, hammering against your chest. You softly knocked on the wooden door. “Come in”, his muffled voice could be heard form inside. With a little creak of the door, you made your way into his office. “Hello Professor. I’m here to serve my detention”, your voice was silent, and a bit shaky. He looked up from his desk full of papers, eyes lighting up the slightest bit. He gave you a sweet smile: “Ah yes, (Y/N). I was surprised when Snape me you were the one who had gotten detention. You never do anything wrong”. A light blush crept up your cheeks. His eyes were entrancing you, making your knees weak. “Well, I messed up the method of my potion, so you know how Snape is. Then I mocked him for his ridiculous behavior and got myself a second detention. So you will be stuck with me again tomorrow evening”, you smiled more confidently now. You didn’t regret your behavior. Snape really was a living hell. It was just your overthinking mind and overwhelming nerves that were bothering you now. As they were most of the time. 

“Oh, Don’t worry about that, dear. I don’t mind your company”, he smile seemed even brighter. The soft candle light really gave him a certain glow that had you mesmerized. It was a soft yellow light, that showed off all his features even better. This soft look in combination with his sweet words really made you swoon. These detentions might were going to kill you. This man couldn’t get any lovelier, at least you thought so. Every time you saw him, some new details had you drawn to him. Another little piece of him you could adore. Like whenever the light hits his eyes right, they looked almost yellow. As if a sun was glowing behind them. That might explain why they gave such a warm and loving appearance. Or the soft shadows that were cast on his face, pointing out his fine bone structure even more. His jawline standing out the most. The combination of his messy hair and wintery sweater, made him look very cosy. He gave off a feeling of home and trust. As if you truly could be yourself around him, even if there were certain boundaries. Maybe that comfort drew you the most to him.

“Well..., you can start with that pile over there”, his voice woken you from your daydream. He pointed to a chair in front of his desk with a smaller pile of papers on it neatly stacked. Your cheeks were flushing a bright red, as you realized he must have seen you stare at him for who knows how long. You placed your bag against the wall, and hung your robe on the hanger that stood in the corner. You carefully picked up the stack of papers and placed them on the desk, so you could sit. Lupin made some room for your pile, as his was literally scattered all over his wooden desk. He mumbled soft apologies in between soft, heartwarming chuckles. After he gave you a pen, some ink and instructions of how to rate these essays, you went to work. 

You had to be honest, it was quite hard to concentrate when you were sat in front of this beautiful man. You often glanced up, admiring him in this soft light and closer perspective. You didn’t dare to look up, but had a feeling his eyes were on you as well. But that could’ve been your feelings sparking up some deeply hidden hope for him ever being interested in you. Every time he leaned over to help you on a certain problem, you could feel your breath halt in your throat. You had trouble keeping your heart rate in control.

“I’m all done, Professor”, you said when you rated the last essay of your pile. He looked up with that loving smile of his, making your heart flutter for the umpteenth time. “Brilliant. Thank you for your assistance today”, he gently took the essays from your hand, and placed them on his big pile of already marked homework. “Maybe I could help you with that potion you were having trouble with?” You smiled widely at him: “Oh, that would be lovely, sir. I really could use some help”. He nodded happily, while his eyes seemed to spark that particular sparkle whenever he got passionated with teaching and helping people. “Do you have your textbook with you?” You mumbled a quiet yes, as you went to grab it from your bag. You handed it over to him, standing by his side on a formal distance away from him. “What potion were you working on?”, he asked while going through the pages of your book. “Amortentia”. As soon as the answer left you mouth, he started to cough lightly seen that he had just took a sip of his tea. “Are you okay, sir?”, you asked him worriedly, placing your hand on his arm. You were a bit unsure if you should touch him or not. But you had acted upon it like an instinct. Luckily he didn’t really reacted to the soft manner, meaning he probably didn’t mind. “Yeah, yeah. I’m alright, dear. Just chocked a bit on my tea, is all”. He cleared his throat and straightened out his back, adjusting his position as a way to recover from his small coughing fit. “So, Amortentia...”, he started off, sounding it bit absentmindedly. “Yeah, I have all the ingredients right. It’s the brewing method that messes me up every time. It always seems to go so well, until it suddenly doesn’t. And I don’t know why”, your explanation sounded like a rambling of quick words put together, making you unsure if he actually understood you. He nodded his head, as he read over the page. “Hmm, well. I’m here to help you. We just need supplies”.

The two of you snuck around the halls, if you even can consider it that. It was still a few hours before curfew and you were with a teacher, so not much trouble could happen. But you still sort of broke into Snape’s classroom, which he wouldn’t appreciate at all. “If we get caught, I am going to blame you. He already hates the living hell out of me”. The tall man next to you chuckled at your comment. “Trust me, love. He hates me plenty, you just don’t see it”. You raised your eyebrow questionably at him: “Why? You are such a lovable person”. The words left your mouth before you registered fully what you had said. His silence made you fear your previous statement even more. Did you mess up? But as you sneaked a look at him, it seemed like he wore a light blush on his cheek. Brighter than he usual reddened cheeks. Indeed it also could be the incidence of light, hitting his skin differently and creating an illusion of colours. 

As you reached the classroom, you quickly mumbled a spell to unlock the door to Snape’s ingredient collection. “Alright, get what you need. I’ll keep watch”, he said quietly, not really looking at you. You listed off all the ingredients you needed, having remembered them from the plenty of times that you had read over the page. You had placed the ingredients on the desk nearest to you, not risking to drop any in the searching process. But as you looked at the amount of pots and bits, you weren’t so sure if every item would make it back safely. “Could you give me a hand, sir?”, you said a bit louder, so he could hear you from the doorway. His head turned quickly to where you were standing. “Oh. Of course, darling”, he smiled, rushing over to your side. He took the bigger part of the items, stressing that it was only right. He could carry them all with only one arm, the other softly placed on the small of your back as he guided you out of the classroom. It must have been a protective, kind manner he always had had in him. You shouldn’t overthink such an innocent thing. But you had to be fair, it really made your heart melt and your skin burn where he hand was placed. It gave you all sort of tingles. 

He opened his door for you, opening his arm to allow you into his office. “Such a gentleman”, you teased, even if your cheeks were burning up. He glanced to the floor, hiding his face from your view. You set all the ingredients on the table, setting them on order of how you would need to use them. Remus placed his cauldron on the table and started to go over the instructions. He mostly gave you the lead, but stepped in wherever you were going to make a mistake. He also gave you useful tips for future potions. “You are doing a great job, (Y/N)”, he smiled form your side, keeping a respectable distance from you. “Well, you are helping me a lot. So, you could say we make quite a great team”, you smirked lightly, not really daring to look over to him. You just focused on stirring in the cauldron. A weight fell of your shoulders when you hear him chuckle: “If you say so, it must be true”. He sounded a little more playful. 

As you added the last ingredient, the liquid turned a beautiful pastel pink. The aroma that came from it was way better than all your previous attempts. You leaned over the cauldron to take a whiff of the odor. “Oh wow, this smells good. It’s way better than all my other attempts. It’s smells like man’s cologne and chocolate”, you said with an excited smile, but it fell soon after. “Or is it just you?”, you asked a Remus with a sad tone. You really wanted to succeed, but after all your failed attempts you didn’t know what Amortentia smelled or looked like. 

Lupin’s eyes were switching between your face and his hands, as if he were unsure of what to say or do. “Normally it smells like what you’re attracted to, miss/ mister (Y/L/N)”. Your eyes widened the slightest bit. Of course you knew that. You were just so enchanted by the smell, that you forgot you were actually outing your secret to the person you wanted to know the least. “Oh, yeah. I know that. But as my other attempts smelled so awful, I thought maybe Amortentia had an actual odor”, you tried to safe yourself. It was partly true, but you tried to cover up the fact that you had outed your secret. You had admitted smelling him, admitting to liking him as the potion had succeeded. “It- It’s alright”, he spoke quietly. A short moment of silence fell over the two fo you. But before it could get any more awkward, you decided to speak up again. “So, uhm. What do you smell, sir”. He seemed to swallow a big lump that had formed in his throat. Slowly he came into movement, leaning over the cauldron as well. He closed his eyes to focus on the scents that he smelled. “Old books and (a scent linked to you)”, he said absentmindedly. He reopened his eyes, but they weren’t focussing on anything particularly. He seemed a bit fazed out, but so were you. Maybe it was the potion, or it was the sudden awareness of your feelings and the position you found yourself in. You were trying to register what he had said previously. Did he smell you? it could be anyone, right? A lot of people must smell like that. You didn’t want to get your hopes up. It would only lead to heartaches. 

You fell back into reality, shaking your head lightly. Once your eyes were focussing again on the room you found yourself in, you realized how close you stood to one another. You must have subconsciously moved closer towards him. When you found the courage to look up, you found his clear blue eyes already trained on you. You felt very nervous underneath his gaze, as if you were being put on spot. You licked your lips as a sign of nerves. Your eyes roaming through the whole room, trying to avoid his gaze. You didn’t know what to do. “No, I can’t do this”, he whispered, stepping a few steps back. “What do you mean?”, you were really confused. Did he meant to do something? You knew nothing could happen between the two fo you. It was wrong in many ways, but you couldn’t help your feelings. You didn’t really expect him to feel anything back. So this came as a hit in the face, as if there had been actual hope all along. “You- you’re my student...”. You nodded slowly, still not getting exactly what he was on to. You had some speculations, but needed confirmation. You couldn’t trust your intuition. 

“I know.. In two months I won’t be. At least if I graduate”. He shook his head lightly, going with his hand through his hair. “Still.. I’m 5 years older than you. We can’t do this..”, he pointed between the two of you. At that moment it hit you. Your speculations were confirmed. You were somewhat embarrassed for how long it had taken you to realize what was happening. “You- you were considering that anything could happen between- between us?”, you stuttered, still not registering it completely. You were feeling like your ears were playing tricks on you. “Maybe...”, he said unsure. Even if you didn’t had your hopes up for anything to happen, still somewhere deep down the sparks of it had hidden. Knowing that he had considered it, but refused to follow through with it, hurt you more than expected. Your eyes started to water, but kept the tear in. Of course he noticed the change. He stepped closer to you and wiped away the single tear that had fallen from your eye. “I’m sorry, love. Please don’t cry”. You forced a small chuckle, smiling at his loving face. “No, it’s okay. Honestly, It’s okay”. Both your voices were quiet as they spoke, not willing to hurt the other even further. 

You couldn’t blame him for this decision. You couldn’t ask such a thing, couldn’t expect such a thing. It was against the rules. He needed to keep a certain distance with his students. The least you wanted was him to lose his job, because of your foolish crush. You respected his decision, even if it hurt. It would be for the better. 

His hand was still on your cheek. It was soft and warm against your skin. You wanted to cherish this moment, even if it was going to break your heart as soon as it ended. His other hand comfortably rested on your waist. “Screw the rules”, he mumbled. Before you registered what was happening, his soft lips were capturing yours in an unexpected but loving kiss. It was soft and tender, but all the while it was full of love. Once the shock wore off, your hands fell to his chest. You softly grabbed the fabric of his sweater. You could feel his rapid heartbeat underneath your palm. He pulled you closer to his body, deepening the kiss. His hand went to the back of your head, not willing to break the kiss yet. Eventually you needed to do so, as you were running out of air. You kept your closeness, both recovering from the unexpected kiss. 

“You are going to be the death of me, love”,he said breathlessly. You chuckled at his comment, leaning in to his chest to cuddle him. You enjoyed the warmth and feeling of being wrapped up in his arms. You looked up at him, being met by his sweet smile and enchanting eyes. “Likewise, sir”, you said before you captured his lips in a second kiss. This time even more passionate. The both of you smiled into it, feeling complete. It felt right. Even if you broke some rules, it was all worth it. 

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Seventeen

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

Exams, pizza, board games... what more could a girl ask for?

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty

 “That was a lot of chess,” Emily complained, nearly chugging her latte as she and Spencer left the coffee shop. 

She pulled her beanie onto her head and braced herself for the snow as the taller boy held the door open for her. Emily almost slipped on the slushy tile floor on her way out but managed to keep her balance. 

“Fifteen of the multiple-choice questions to be precise,” Spencer replied. The salted sidewalk crunched under their feet as they made their way across campus. 

“I’m so glad it’s finally over,” she admitted. “I think I’ve had enough philosophy to last me a lifetime.” 

“I’m enrolled in ‘Minds and Machines’ next semester,” he said. “I think I might try and get a double minor this time around.”

“What’s the goal? Three PhDs by the time you’re 24?” Emily quipped. 

He was well on his way, having completed his engineering degree before she managed to graduate high school. He was 17, only two years younger than her, but somehow seemed like a kid. A kid with more education crammed into his brain than she could ever master in her life.

“Something like that,” he replied with a smile. His hair was getting long and he had tied it back during the exam. With last names starting with P and R, they were seated near each other in the large exam hall, and she glanced over at him as he fussed with his hair. 

They stopped at the red light, watching as the cars and busses wooshed past them, sending the slush flying into the snowbanks. It had been a fairly sunny day, but bitterly cold. Now, the sun was setting and the campus was bathed in a warm golden glow. The snow had fallen the night before, leaving fluffy white snow covering their campus. 

Emily had spent most of the day holed up in the library with Spencer, with him quizzing her on fallacies and philosophers. With his eidetic memory, he only really needed to read the material once. Earlier in the semester, she did feel useful when it came to editing each other’s essays. He always got bogged down with detail, word vomiting everything he knew, and she helped him with his structure and argumentation. 

More studying awaited her back in her room. She rubbed at the back of her neck as she thought about the upcoming evening spent hunched over her desk studying criminal justice, a subject that left her questioning her degree half the time as she was forced to learn about the muddled ethics of justice. 

That week, she had survived on minimal sleep, eating mostly bagels and coffee to sustain her. Her body was protesting with each step, and she had suffered from a constant tension headache for as long as she remembered. At least her college had that golden retriever walk around at the library yesterday, she thought to herself, sarcastically. Animal therapy definitely relieved all her stress. As if petting a dog for five minutes would fix the anxiety of finals season. 

Two more exams, she reminded herself. You’ll make it. 

Despite this mantra, Emily was conflicted. While finals were killing her, the end of the semester also meant winter break. Emily would be forced to go “home” for the holidays. For most college students, that meant going back to their respective towns and being surrounded by their loved ones. Emily, on the other hand, didn’t have anywhere she called home. Last winter break, her mom had at least been in DC, and Emily was able to catch up with some of her international school friends who were in the city. This time, her mom was stationed in London, and Emily knew she’d be roped back into her old life. She didn’t know anyone there and knew most of her break would be spent alone. 

The last place she had called home was Rome, and now that was tarnished by her complicated past with that city. 

Emily was good at being alone. Being an only child of a workaholic single mom meant she learned to keep her own company. She read a lot. She got good at running away, escaping her nannies, and skirting security in order to roam free. She’d be fine. 

The problem was that Emily had gotten used to this. She rarely spent a moment alone these days. Whether it was walking to class with Spencer, or Hotch, or Derek, getting lunch with the team, surprise coffee dates with Penelope and spending almost every evening with her girlfriend, she hadn’t been left alone in ages. She didn’t miss it. 

Their residence building had a warm yellow light shining out of the windows and a soft red brick facade. In the summer, ivy grew up the south facing side but in the winter, the ledges were covered in snow and the stone steps were slippery. She trudged forward, excited for the warm embrace of the dorm. 

Spencer had other plans. He reached into the garish yellow plastic newspaper box that was stationed next to their doorway and retrieved this week’s newspaper. 

“Come on Reid,” Emily said. “Just subscribe to the newsletter or something like the rest of us.”

He held up the cover to her in surprise. Usually it reported the news of a recent sports victory, or a change of policy announced by the administrators, or even a fun event held on campus. Sometimes there was even a dramatic protest or an important speaker coming to campus. But this week, the headline surprised her. In large font printed across the page read: “Multiple student politicians fired amid financial scandal.” 

“That sounds bad,” Emily said. It did seem way more dramatic on newsprint than on a website, so maybe Spencer was onto something with his affinity for the printed word. 

Grabbing a copy for herself, she then walked inside to escape the cold. Warm air greeted them as they entered their residence hall, and both students kicked the snow off their boots before trudging up the stairs. They read as they walked, but the route to their rooms was already muscle memory, so neither worried about stumbling on their way. 

Normally, Emily wouldn’t willingly touch this sort of student politics with a ten foot pole. Sure, she was involved with the Criminology council, but there was a difference between the kind of person interested in petitioning for better accessibility to faculty events or running a bake sale, and the kind of students to embezzle thousands of student dollars like what the current student government executive seemed to be accused of doing. 

She quickly ran her eyes down the page, the contents jogging a memory from Halloween, of Hotch and JJ discussing the early stirrings of said scandal. 

“You know,” Spencer said, “I’m surprised they got a lot of this information, it’s notoriously difficult to file FOIAs for student governments, as they’re technically private corporations. So the fact that they got these files means that this is a much bigger scandal than one might assume.”

Corruption, bribery, embezzlement, nepotism. All words that jogged memories of hiding in the corner of political fundraisers, overhearing the worst of politics from too-drunk elites sipping on their wine and munching on charcuterie. 

“I hate politics,” Emily said, stuffing her copy of the paper into her bag. 

“I find it interesting. It’s basically a microcosm of our current political climate. In fact, I have subscribed to the print edition of fifteen student papers in the region,” Spencer said, “I like to keep informed on the coverage of student issues, and compare them to our own.”

“Why?!” Emily said with a laugh. “You know you can just look them up online.”

Spencer gave her a withering look, and she should have known better than asking about his aversion to tech. He loathed having to use his computer, as the LCD screens apparently gave him a headache. Penelope even gave him a pair of blue light glasses to attempt to alleviate the issue.

Then, he began to speak, at length, about the dying printed news industry and why print copies were better for understanding than screens et cetera. She made sure to nod and hum at appropriate points, but her mind kept wandering. 

She wondered if her girlfriend was in her room. Emily missed her any time they were apart and she yearned to hold her in her arms once again. But she shouldn’t. She needed to work. She had too much to do. Her grades had slipped, slightly, this semester. Everyone warned her about how college would be harder than high school, but no one ever warned her how much the expectations were raised in second year. 

Two more exams. She clutched her coffee tighter. She’d rather do anything else besides study at this point. Her body was exhausted, her mind frazzled. She wondered if she could even manage to get through a chapter of revision before conking out on her desk. 

As she said goodbye to Spencer and struggled with her keys that were tangled up in their corresponding university-branded lanyard, JJ’s door opened.  

“Hey girlfriend,” JJ greeted her, sounding way too much like a straight girl greeting her platonic friend for Emily’s taste. She gave her a pass because it sounded cute in her voice. 

“JJ!” Emily said, somehow surprised to see her despite the fact that she lived right across the hall. Her girlfriend was dressed in sweatpants and an oversized sweater, with her straight hair tucked behind her ears and her face bare of make up. Her face was lit up with a smile, and Emily rushed towards her, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

“Hi JJ,” Spencer said as Emily and JJ kissed. 

When they pulled apart, JJ gave Spencer a smile as a greeting and asked them how their exam went. 

Spencer babbled about their Logic exams for a minute or two, as Emily basked in JJ’s presence. She grabbed onto her hand and found that it was so much hotter than her own and wasn’t sure if she held on tight because she was cold, or if she had missed her girlfriend. 

“I’m just glad it’s over,” Emily said. “I never want to hear about fallacies again.”

Spencer seemed to want to say something, but fell silent at Emily’s tired expression. 

“Wanna come in for a bit?” JJ whispered in Emily’s ear. Apparently she said so a touch too loud because Spencer replied instead. 

“Sure!” he said, and then walked into JJ and Penelope’s room. 

“I should really study,” Emily tried to argue, but a single glance into JJ’s deep, blue eyes had Emily melting. 

JJ’s room was much messier than Emily had last seen it. Both desks showed clear markers of the ongoing exams, with papers and books piled high. In addition to this was an assortment of pillows strewn all over the floor.

“You guys are back early!” JJ said, after checking her watch, “I thought it was a two hour exam?”

“I finished in an hour,” Spencer said, “and Emily only needed an extra half hour on top of my time.”

Damn straight, Emily thought, feeling somewhat competitive with the boy-genius despite herself. 

She really should study, but the prospect of seeing her girlfriend outweighed the desire to sit hunched over a textbook for another evening. 

Emily and Spencer kicked off their boots, placing them neatly on the mat by the door before peeling their jackets off and hanging them on the back of her door. Emily wasn’t sure if she liked winter. Whenever her mother was stationed in the Middle East she yearned for snow, but now that she was experiencing the Nor’easter for the first time, the desert sounded like a good time. 

“Well there goes my plan,” JJ said, blowing her hair out of her face with a puff of air.

Spencer flopped onto Penelope’s neatly-made bed, collapsing into the assortment of pink pillows while carefully keeping his take-away cup upright. Emily sat down next to JJ on her bed.

“Your plan?” Emily asked. 

“Yeah,” JJ said, sounding a bit shy. “I had this whole plan to make up a blanket fort here for you, and I would surprise you with it when you walked in.’”

JJ gestured with her hands at the mess. Blankets and pillows were strewn about, and a bundle of fairy lights were laying in the middle of the floor. 

“Then you came back early,” JJ concluded. “Spence, I thought you’d keep her occupied longer!”

“You didn’t tell me that,” he replied. Spencer looked quizzically at her, shrugged, then took another sip of his coffee.

“I just wanted us to have a cute date night,” JJ admitted. “I know you’re so stressed, and you deserve a break.” 

Emily grabbed her girlfriend’s moving hands and held them in her own. She felt overwhelmed. JJ was so… thoughtful. Caring. Attentive. So many things that were absolutely foreign to Emily. No one had ever tried to impress her like this. 

“It’s okay,” Emily said. “We don’t need anything special to have a cute date night. You’re cute enough.”

JJ gave Emily a goofy smile in response. 

“Okay,” JJ said. “If you say so.”

“You’re building a blanket fort?” Spencer asked. “I actually have some experience with blanket fort architecture.”

“You do?” JJ asked, raising her eyebrows skeptically.

“Of course,” he replied, seeming almost offended that she questioned him. “It sparked my interest in engineering. I wanted to overcome the problem of chair-tippage when it came to building the structure, so I devised a system of counter-weights that I found increased the structural integrity by 53%. My mom always told me that I could be an architect, but I thought the sciences better suited my intellect.”

“Oh?” Emily asked, genuinely interested. How would someone measure the structural integrity of a blanket fort? 

“Actually, I have some blueprints. Let me grab them,” he said, standing up and making a move for the door. 

“Of course you have blueprints,” JJ laughed. 

“I should probably go feed Gideon, anyway. I’ll be right back!” Spencer  said. Before closing the door behind him.

“Gideon?” Emily asked. 

“His fish,” JJ said, “the one he won at the fair. It’s named after his professor, I think.”

She shrugged. The kid was weird, they tended to just accept that. 

“I guess Spencer’s joining us on date night,” JJ said. “Sorry. I know you’re stressed and probably want to be studying, but I thought we’d order pizza and just have one night off. Just us. And Spencer.”

JJ planted a firm kiss on Emily’s lips, leaving her dazed and blushing. 

“Relaxing sounds perfect,” Emily said, pulling her girlfriend closer to her. “I can’t believe it’s already exams. This semester has flown by. Soon it’ll be winter break, and I won’t get to see you.”

“I can’t imagine you not being right across the hall,” JJ said. “Who will give me kisses when I want them?”

JJ kissed Emily, sucking on Emily’s bottom lip slightly before pulling apart to look at her. 

“I know you’re joking, but I hope you’re not kissing anybody else, no matter the circumstances.”

With that established, Emily pounced on her girlfriend, pushing her onto her bed and kissing her deeply. She intertwined her fingers in the blonde locks that were splayed out in a golden halo and breathed in deep, taking in the warm scent of the lilac candle that burnt on her night side table. 

All her worries melted away at JJ’s touch. Emily’s brain was filled with the feeling of JJ’s lips on hers, with her lithe form beneath her. Exams, student politics and thoughts of home were wiped away, and her stress faded into background noise. 

JJ’s pliant form writhed under Emily’s, her hands sneaking below Emily’s sweater and dancing over her back. They deepened the kiss until they were making out like teenagers in JJ’s dorm with the door still open a crack. 

This was how Spencer, accompanied by Derek, found them when they pushed open the door with blanket fort blueprints and bags of potato chips in hand. 

Spencer made a surprised noise, which made Emily aware of his return. She jumped up and pulled apart from JJ with a dark red blush gracing her cheeks. 

“Woah there ladies,” Derek said with a laugh. “Keep it in your pants!”

“Guys! I was gone for five minutes!” Spencer whined. 

Emily stood up awkwardly, stuffing her hands in her pockets as she watched JJ sit up and pat her hair down in a huff.

“Sorry,” Emily grumbled, not really meaning it. She would never be sorry for kissing JJ, but she was sorry for the awkwardness

“Pretty boy dragged me down the hall,” Derek said in explanation. He had Spencer’s rolled-up fort plans in his hand, and lightly smacked Emily’s head with it, making a comedic thwap noise as it made contact. “Hope you weren’t in the middle of something?”

“Only JJ’s legs,” Emily quipped to everyone’s surprise, even her own. JJ hit her jokingly and blushed. 

“Hey!” Derek laughed, “Let’s keep this PG!”

“You called?” The voice of Penelope Garcia—PG if you will—rang out from the hallway, and within seconds JJ’s room was filled with just about all their friends standing around in a slightly awkward silence: JJ, Emily, Spencer and Derek were joined by Penelope with Hotch in tow. 

The latter two of them had grown closer recently and walked into the room with white shopping bags with the walrus logo printed on the side, looking like they had just returned from out in the cold. Penelope and Hotch going thrifting together, that’s new! Emily thought to herself and decided to file the observation for later. The image of Hotch watching Penelope’s customary fashion show was enough to make her laugh under her breath. 

“We’re building a blanket fort,” Spencer announced, changing the subject to the task at hand. “Are you guys helping?”

“Oh you know I will, boy genius,” Penelope said with an excited smile. 

Emily looked over to her girlfriend. So much for date night.

———

Without much questioning about why they were building a blanket fort, the team got to work. In college, sometimes things just happened. Impromptu blanket forts were par the course. In their defense, any excuse to not spend the evening burying their heads in textbooks was a welcome reprieve. 

It started with just a few blankets draped in the space between JJ and Penelope’s beds, but with Spencer’s instruction, a verifiable architectural marvel began to take shape. 

While Emily knew that Penelope would be all gung ho for this sort of project, it was certainly amusing to see Hotch in his khakis and dress shirt crawling around on the floor like a child with the rest of them, tying off blankets and very seriously maneuvering the different parts of the structure. 

Sheets were draped here and there, tied together to form ceilings and walls. Two chairs stolen from the common room, loaded with backpacks on the seat for support acted as the entrance to the fort. 

While it was crawling space only, Emily had to note that there was a sense of awe when you emerged into the open space of the main fort-area. It was surprisingly big, fitting all six of them with ease. The key to the whole design was a curtain rod Hotch had stolen from the boys shower that lifted the roof up. 

The design was strangely reminiscent of Baroque architecture, which she was sure was due to Spencer’s designs. This was a fact that Emily kept to herself. She always tried to rein in the ‘I lived abroad’ conversation points so her childhood could remain under minimal scrutiny.

Emily’s exhaustion transformed into excitement as she relished the time hanging out with her friends. Music played from Penelope’s computer as they worked, they began to work as a cohesive group, each member doing their share. It was nice to do something besides sit at her desk and obsess over memorizing facts and statistics, or figuring out the proper argumentation for an essay on a subject. Making sure that a bunch of blankets didn’t crash onto them was treated with the utmost seriousness, and the whole group was focused with intense concentration at their own tasks. 

Spencer did, in fact, have literal sketches of blanket forts in his notebooks, but the details of which were fairly incomprehensible to her. While she believed that he did the math, his chicken scratch was just about indecipherable, and his drawing was little more than a few shapes on a page. Despite this, it was laid out on the centre of the dorm-room floor for them to reference. 

At one point, as Emily stood on JJ’s wheely chair, she feared that the fort had all come crashing down as she lost her balance and grabbed at the blankets to stop her fall before tumbling onto Derek with a yelp. 

“Sorry,” she muttered as she climbed back onto her feet and fought off the blanket that had wrapped her in a shroud. 

She flinched as she realized she had ruined it all, a pit forming in her stomach. She looked at her friends in concern, but instead of yelling at her for her mistake, or shunning her for ruining it for the rest of them, they smiled at her and helped her up.

“It’s okay!” Spencer said cheerfully. “I know exactly how to reinforce that wall.”

“You okay, Emily?” Hotch asked, righting the wheely chair as JJ fretted over her. 

“I’m good,” she answered, still confused as to why they weren’t mad at her. 

Instead of making a big deal over the set back, they went back to work. Soon, the fort filled out and it returned to its former glory. Arguably, better than it was because they had draped fairy lights throughout the inside, making the space glow with a warm orange light. 

Inside was filled with pillows and big enough for all of them to sit comfortably so it was a comfy lounge space. It was cozy and warm, the antithesis of the bitterly cold night air outside. 

“You know what?” Hotch said. “This is a damned good fort, Reid.” 

The group muttered in consensus. They all had piled into the space, and as the excitement wore off, Emily was wondering what happened next. What does one do in a blanket fort? She had vague memories of building one in her room, but she had just sat inside and read a book. 

“I hear the RA’s storage room has a ton of board games,” Penelope said. “They pull them out for socials and stuff.”

“That’s all well and good, but we’re not asking Strauss to let us in,” Derek argued. “I still think she thinks we were responsible for that fire alarm last week. She’s been giving me the evil eye ever since.”

“Who said we had to tell her?” Emily said. “We could just… borrow… them…”

“I mean, they are for us to use, anyway.” JJ’s eyes had a mischievous look in them as she looked at Emily.

“That is true,” Hotch said, the scowl that was usually a fixture on his face turning to a smirk. 

“That’s stealing, guys,” Spencer warned, as if they didn’t already know that. 

“We’ll give them back,” Emily said with a shrug. “Come on!”

Penelope led the way to a dark wooden door on the main floor, it was labelled simply “Storage,” but the computer science student assured them that it was where the RA’s stored all of their supplies.

“It’s locked,” Penelope huffed.

“Do you have a bobby pin?” Emily asked her in a hushed voice. She wouldn’t have gotten this far if she hadn’t learned how to pick simple door locks. She had trouble with deadbolts but a simple latch she could probably do within a couple of minutes.

The blonde pulled a hot pink bobby pin out of her perfectly curled hair. Emily snapped it into two, bending one end into a longer L-shape. Sticking that into the bottom of the lock and holding it in place, she used the other side to feel for the pins that held the lock in place. 

Emily could feel all eyes on her as she confidently knelt in front of the doorknob, the group keeping watch for her as she worked. No one questioned how or why Emily knew how to do this. She had her reasons. 

This definitely broke all sorts of residence rules and if they got caught, they knew they’d get into shit, but no one seemed to care that much. They just wouldn’t get caught. 

After a couple minutes, Emily’s hands began to sweat. What if she couldn’t do this anymore? She tried to centre herself. She had made it through infinitely more stressful situations in the past. It was the eyes of her friends on her that made her nervous. She was finally accepted by a group, and she desperately didn’t want to let them down. 

Then, it clicked, and she was able to turn the brass knob easily. Emily made a noise of excitement, got to her feet and yanked the door open. 

Instead of an empty storage closet, on the other side of the door was Erin Strauss, their RA, in a passionate embrace with David Rossi. Her shirt was unbuttoned and he was in the middle of sucking on her neck. 

“Dave?!” Hotch called out, startling the couple. 

Both groups stood stock-still, neither knowing what to say. While Emily had hid the bobby pins, she wasn’t sure who was in more trouble, them for breaking into the room or their RA for using the space for unofficial purposes. 

The room was small and cramped, with a pile of poster board mostly obscuring the one small window that lit the space. Strauss had been hoisted onto the desk, her legs straddling the other student. Emily could see a shelf filled with the board games stacked on the left side of the room, but they seemed unimportant at the moment. While Emily had known about their illicit love affair, she had never expected to see it in action. 

“Hey guys,” Rossi said after a moment, his unwavering confidence carrying on to this moment as he pulled apart from Strauss, who was furiously buttoning up her shirt and trying to sort herself out. 

“What are you all doing in here?” she demanded, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. “This room’s meant for RA’s only.”

“Well,” Emily said, startled by her own audacity, “Dave isn’t an RA so…”

“We just came for some board games,” JJ said in her most diplomatic voice, despite clearly wanting to laugh at the situation, “then we’ll be off.”

“Take them and go,” the RA said in a strangled voice, her face beet-red and as she avoided eye contact like it was the plague. 

Clearly not as embarrassed as Strauss, Rossi simply smirked, collected a few board games into his arms off of the shelf, then deposited them into Emily’s arms. 

Realizing that given the circumstances, they couldn’t be picky with their choices, the stunned group thanked him then scurried away, back upstairs with their loot. The silence remained until they made it back to their floor, where they all burst into laughter.

“What on earth was that?!” Derek exclaimed. 

“Rossi and Strauss,” Spencer muttered. 

Emily and JJ made eye contact, remembering all those weeks ago when they had caught their friend emerging from the RA’s room down the hall in the middle of the night. They had known that Rossi and Strauss had hooked up that night, but had no idea that it was a whole relationship.

“I see it,” Hotch commented. “I mean, I don’t know your RA too well, but Rossi likes a woman with authority.”

Derek and Emily fake-gagged in an exaggerated manner at the comment. 

“I think I need to bleach my eyeballs after that display,” Emily muttered. 

“Ooo-kay!” JJ said, pointedly changing the subject. “It seems like we have most of the pieces to Clue… I think we could manage a game of that. We also have Scrabble, Yahtzee and Snakes and Ladders. Uh… also a pack of cards.”

“At least it’s not chess,” Emily said, thinking about her seemingly endless exam that afternoon. 

“Agreed,” Spencer said. 

“We do not have chess, no,” JJ said with a quizzical laugh. 

———

After ordering a couple of pizzas to the dorm, they all settled in to play a board game. After a few minutes of debate, they decided to play Clue (or Cluedo as Emily continuously referred to it as). The board was laid out: it was vintage, with a teal and yellow colour scheme and some scuffs and rips showing its age. In their blanket fort, they were seated in a circle, all secretly looking at their Clue cards.

“Can I be Professor Plum?” Spencer asked before they had even gotten the pieces out of the box. 

“Of course pretty boy,” Derek said, “I’ll take Mr. Green.”

“My sculpted god of thunder looks excellent in green,” Penelope flirted, choosing the white piece for herself. 

“Did you know that in the original version of Clue, Mr Green was a Reverend, but they changed his name for American audience because they believed that the American public would object to a parson as a murder suspect?”

“Good thing you’re on our trivia team, Reid,” Hotch replied.  

Emily was Miss Scarlet, of course, and was seated right next to JJ, who had chosen to portray Mrs. Peacock. Hotch claimed the remaining piece: Colonel Mustard.

Emily loved board games. Her nanny in France, who was a kindly elderly woman that Emily only knew as “Madame,” would play with her each Sunday after church. She has hazy memories from that time, but the warm glow of sunlight streaming into their Parisian apartment as she learned how to play Cluedo. Emily would always try to cheat, but knew better than to try to do so with her immensely observant girlfriend seated to her left, JJ’s hand resting casually on Emily’s thigh.

She looked at her cards and grinned. She had been dealt her own character, she noted, as Miss Scarlet’s name was printed in bold on the top of her first card. It felt weirdly validating to know that she herself was innocent. Also in her hands were the cards for the candlestick and pistol, as well as the observatory. She marked these off of her card and tried to gauge her opponents' reactions. 

JJ was checking her phone with her cards face down, tracking the pizza’s arrival. Spencer was sprawled back, his long legs taking up way more room than was necessary, jotting down notes on some scrap paper. Presumably some statistics and probability for the possibilities of the cards that were sealed in the envelope in the centre of the board. Penelope smiled over at Derek and flirtatiously tried to sneak a peek at his hand. 

After the initial rounds being dedicated to moving around the board, Emily finally made it into her first room: the lounge. There, she decided on her first suggestion.

“I suggest,” Emily said, in her most dramatic, formal voice, which was particularly suited to the role of Miss Scarlet, “that Mrs. Peacock committed this heinous crime in the Lounge with-” she hurriedly grabbed the candlestick, “the candlestick!”

She knew that it wasn’t the correct weapon, but using it would narrow it down to someone ruling out either JJ’s character or the lounge as the scene of the crime. 

“Moi?!” JJ said, sounding almost offended at the accusation. “Your own girlfriend?!”

Emily grinned evilly at her, but internally she felt giddy. It was the first time she heard JJ use that word in front of their friends. JJ moved her piece into the Lounge. The others chuckled lightly at their antics.

“You have no alibi for the crime, Mrs. Peacock,” Emily said, “and I am merely making a suggestion.”

JJ glared at her, but said nothing. Emily turned to Derek, who was seated at her left. 

“What do I do?” Derek asked, looking around the room, slightly confused. 

“Do you have any of those cards?” Hotch asked. 

“Yeah-” Derek said, moving to show his hand. 

“No!” Penelope stopped him. “Just show one of your cards to Emily if you can prove her suggestion was wrong.”

He made an “o” with his mouth and sneakily showed Emily the Lounge card. Emily noted that, and that it was Derek’s card. Mrs. Peacock had yet to be proven innocent, and Emily gave JJ a suspicious glance. 

She loved this game. 

As the game progressed, Emily noted a few things about her opponents. A part of Emily was profiling her friends subconsciously, reading each of their strategies like a book. 

Penelope always seemed to luck out on her dice rolls, covering a lot of terrain and gathering information like it was a cup of tea. But, she seemed to take it personally when someone accused Mrs. White of having killed Mr. Boddy and gasped every time someone made that suggestion. 

Hotch seemed to take the game very seriously, and was at it like he was an actual police officer solving crime. But, it didn’t seem that he completely understood all of the rules, and definitely hadn’t played before, so he spent most of his turn grumbling as he skimmed the rule pamphlet. 

Spencer, on the other hand, had memorized the rules, common strategies and probabilities of the different outcomes, so Hotch often looked over to him nervously as the boy wrote longhand equations in the notebook that he pulled out of his bag for the very occasion. 

Derek also had never played before, and regularly made ‘accusations’ rather than ‘suggestions’ when he entered a room, frustrating Spencer to no end. But, Derek was smart and seemed to be picking it up as he went along. That was until he made the same suggestion twice in a row, both times making Hotch show him the exact same card. He asked Reid endless questions about specific rules, and more than once he made the boy double check in the rule book when Derek tried to make a rather unorthodox move. 

JJ seemed to be the only one genuinely trying to have fun. She munched on the Cheetos that she stored in the bottom drawer of her night stand, and made conversation. Her strategy seemed to be exclusively focused on playing the game like it was the 1985 feature film Clue, playing the role of Mrs. Peacock with a fake accent and treating it like an actual murder-filled dinner party.

After a solid twenty minutes of gameplay, the pizza arrived. With minimal grumbling from Hotch, who was apparently on a roll, they took a break to eat. 

“Did you see this?” Spencer said with his mouth full, lifting up the copy of the newspaper that he had grabbed earlier.

“Don’t get me started,” JJ grumbled and took a sip of her pop. 

“What happened?” Hotch asked, the conversation piquing his interest. 

Spencer explained—with the assistance of JJ who apparently knew one of the people involved through soccer—the entire scandal. Apparently, last year there had been very little interest in the leadership roles, so the President of the student government had simply waltzed into his role. He then hired all of his friends, his girlfriend, his roommate, and together they embezzled thousands of dollars of student funds. 

“I can’t believe they’re getting away with this,” JJ muttered. “Is there no oversight?”

“It’s always the same,” Emily replied. “Who’s going to oversee them? The college? They’re corrupt too.”

“This sucks,” Derek said. “Wish someone good would run for government, for once.”

Emily shook her head in frustration. It all just reminded her of her childhood. Embezzlement, corruption and nepotism all were casual topics discussed over family dinner in her home. She had higher hopes for students her own age, would they not break the cycle? Or was it just a microcosm of the outside world? 

“You should run Mr. Lawyer Man,” Penelope teased Hotch. “You could take any of these clowns.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow at her and went back to his pizza, brushing her off. Emily smiled at him. Penelope was right, he might actually do a good job if he set his mind to it. 

The people that surrounded her now were nothing like her mother’s friends—or the kids she had been forced to hang out with when she was younger—they were genuinely kind, supportive, and seemed to like Emily for Emily. When she told them she was an ambassador’s daughter, they had been more concerned with the cool places that she had been able to travel to than whatever power she had. At college, Emily finally exhaled fully, slowly relaxing more and more into herself. 

But, the topic of politics always set her on edge, especially since the semester was ending soon. Her mother had already begun to leave her voicemails about the galas, fundraisers and events that she was required to attend over Christmas break. She pushed thoughts of the future aside and focused on the warmth that surrounded her. With some music playing softly (a song that JJ liked by Vampire Weekend), the softness of blankets under her, and JJ leaning on her slightly as she ate her dinner, Emily felt at peace. She knew she could handle winter break, because she knew that these friends would be here when she came back. 

After years of leaving a school midway through the year only to show up to some new boarding school or international school each time her mom was reassigned, Emily never had a chance to put down roots. But, with each bite of pizza, Emily felt herself becoming even more firmly rooted. Not to this place, but to these people as their lives became more entwined. 

Once dinner was over, the game continued, and thoughts of politics left their minds. By then, Emily narrowed it down to the weapon (the candlestick), two rooms (the kitchen and the billiard room) and she was pretty sure that it was Colonel Mustard that had committed the crime. 

She had a decision to make: walk all the way from the study to the billiard room, or risk being wrong by making an accusation. She was pretty sure both Hotch and Reid were on the right track, as the younger boy’s scribbling in his notebook had gotten even more intense and the older boy was beginning to look around suspiciously, as if the others were trying to read his notes. 

She had pretty much ruled out Penelope, JJ and Derek as competitors, as the trio spent most of the time talking, and genuinely trying to have fun. Emily, Reid and Hotch were all way too into it, but Emily was competitive and this was her game. She wasn’t going to lose to Hotch, no way. Reid winning she could blame on his boy-genius nature, but Emily decided that Hotch was going down. 

The two boys seemed to have come to the same conclusion, all eyeing each other across the board, the tension palatable between them as their competition became heated. 

She nervously tried to move to the billiards room, deciding to play it safe. Better safe than disqualified. But, as soon as she made that decision, she regretted it as Spencer straightened up on his turn and said: “I’d like to make my accusation.”

“Write it down,” JJ prompted, as per the rules. He jotted it down in his paper. 

Then, with bated breath, they watched as he grabbed the envelope out of the centre of the board, and read the cards. His face fell when he saw one of the cards, so he must have been wrong. He placed them back into their envelope and back onto the board. 

“No dice?” Emily asked. 

He shook his head. 

“Statistically speaking that should have been right,” he grumbled. “My math was wrong.”

“Boy genius isn’t a good detective, huh?” Penelope mused. 

A few turns went by, with Derek, Penelope, and JJ moving around the board or making suggestions. 

Emily rolled the dice, making one square from a room. She sighed. She’d make a suggestion next round. 

On Hotch’s next turn, he made an accusation, which he wrote down on a pink sticky note that Penelope had handed out when the game started. He checked the envelope. 

Emily held her breath. She was sure he had it and that the game was over. She should just call it quits now. She went to bite her nails out of stress, but stopped herself, they were starting to get long and she wanted them to look nice. 

A moment passed as Hotch compared his cards. After he saw the third card in the envelope, his expression revealed that was also wrong. 

Boys, Emily thought. Always so overconfident. 

She made a suggestion instead of risking it: “Miss Scarlet—er myself I guess— in the Billiards Room with the pistol.” 

It was a gamble. If she was right, and the people who knew she had her own card and the pistol caught on, they would also know that it was the Billiard Room, because no one would be able to disprove her theory. If she was wrong, someone would have the card for that room, and she would know that the crime occured in the Kitchen. 

The second seemed to be true, as Derek showed her his card with a small illustrated image of the Billiard Room on it. She was right. She knew what it was. But, she would have to wait until her next turn. She was going to win. 

But, it was she who was overconfident, because as she was too busy preemptively celebrating her win, Derek casually made his accusation. 

“Hey I’m right!” he exclaimed, holding up the cards and his own hot pink sticky note. 

In his semi-cursive scrawl read: “Colonel Mustard, Candlestick, Kitchen.” These guesses matched the cards hidden in the envelope, and Emily’s own deduction that she planned to make on her own turn. 

“You guys really thought I hadn’t played this game before?” Derek laughed. “I’ve got two sisters, board games were everything.”

“Were you hustling us, Morgan?” Spencer demanded. 

He smirked. 

“Should’ve put money on the outcome,” Derek said with a laugh. “I’d be rich.” 

Emily threw her cards onto the table in defeat. JJ shot her an empathetic look, and Emily tried to stuff her frustration down to pat her friend on the back for the surprising win. He deserved it.

———

After the game concluded and the pizza had been completely eaten, the group parted ways, heading to bed, or for more midnight snacks or to finish up some studying, leaving JJ and Emily alone and to start? a game of Scrabble. 

The board was ancient, and quite a few letters were missing, but with music droning on JJ’s laptop, and the soft fairy lights overhead, neither girl minded too much. 

Emily looked at her letters:  O, B, S, O, T, B, W and thought hard, rearranging the wooden pieces to try and formulate a word. After a long day of academia, and investing so heavily into the game of Clue, she probably had only one or two working brain cells and both were telling her to play the word ‘boobs.’  

Her eyes flicked to her girlfriend, who looked absolutely gorgeous in the warm light. Her blonde hair almost glowed, and she had an adorable expression on her face. Emily couldn’t help but glance lower, thinking about the real world examples of her Scrabble word.  

She played the word with a cheeky grin. 

“‘Boobs,’ Emily?” JJ scolded. “Really?”

She sounded angry, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at her cheeks and Emily could tell the girl found it funny. 

“I can’t help it,” Emily said. “I haven’t thought of much else since last weekend.”

She raised and lowered her eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, making JJ laugh and kick her lightly in protest. 

JJ then played the word ‘throw,’ using the ‘o’ from ‘boobs’ to form her word, earning her thirteen points. 

“I don’t think you can throw boobs, babe,” Emily said. “They’re usually attached.”

JJ rolled her eyes. 

Emily made it her mission to find the funniest words possible, working extra hard (and missing out on some good points) in an effort to make JJ laugh. ‘Armpit,’ ‘meaty,’ ‘hoagie,’ ‘urine,’ ‘joint’ and her piece de resistance: ‘boner.’ All while JJ was playing incredibly normal, and often strategic words like ‘axis,’ ‘snow,’ ‘vain,’ ‘snag’ and ‘writings,’ hitting multiple double- and triple word scores on the way. 

“This is fun,” Emily said, sneaking a handful of JJ’s Cheetos out of the family-sized bag next to the blonde, while she was distracted by playing her turn. 

“I don’t understand how you’re winning,” JJ muttered. 

Emily shrugged, “Guess I’m just a genius.”

“Reid? Is that you?” JJ joked. “Why are you disguised as my girlfriend?” 

“Would Reid do this?” Emily said, leaning over toward her girlfriend and pressing kisses all over her face until she fell back. Then Emily straddled her, their lips meeting in a passionate embrace that left both girls panting. 

“I would hope not!” JJ exclaimed with a laugh, making a face at the thought. 

They laughed and went back to making out, with Emily careful not to disturb the game pieces. JJ sucked onto Emily’s bottom lip, making her weak in the knees and she struggled to support herself over JJ’s shorter frame at the motion. 

“We should-” Emily tried to say between kisses, “finish the game.”

JJ kept deepening the kiss, going so far as to grab onto Emily’s butt to hold her in place on top of her.

“You’re trying to distract me,” Emily chided, “because I’m winning! I see right through your plot.” 

She sat up and went back to her tiles before playing another funny word: ‘suck’ for twenty points. JJ grumbled,fiddling with her own tiles, as Emily collected a few out of the bag. 

Emily was preening as she rearranged her own tiles and didn’t notice as JJ put down her word. When she went to play her next word (‘zap’) and only then did she see what word JJ played. 

‘Love.’ 

It was there. Clear as day. Written vertically and connected to the word ‘snow,’ it was unmistakable. Emily looked at it for a long moment, trying to figure out what it could possibly mean that her girlfriend very intentionally played such a loaded word. Was it the only word that fit? Did she only mean that she loved the snow? Was she also reading into it? 

Emily looked up, making eye contact with JJ. The blonde blushed and looked away, nervously fiddling with the necklace around her neck. Emily smiled faintly at the warmth that flooded through her, but alongside that, was the sharp pang of anxiety. Was she supposed to acknowledge that? Would that make it weird? 

‘Zap’ didn’t feel appropriate when her girlfriend may or may not have confessed her love for her. 

She played it anyway, deciding that making a big deal of it would just complicate matters. Besides, did she love JJ? She didn’t know. It was all so new. She liked JJ a lot. She definitely like-liked her in the traditional sense of the world. But Emily had never been in love before. She’d loved people before, Matthew for one, and her mother in a way, and she loved Derek like a brother. But being in love was a whole ‘nother ball game. 

JJ won the game after playing ‘equinox’ for twenty two points near the end, beating any lead Emily had gained from her silly words. JJ deserved it in the end, as the blonde would sit and stare at her letters until they formed the most complex words that Emily had never even heard of. Emily’s eyes drooped and she was barely able to create three letter words by the end, while JJ was still surprising her with her vocabulary. 

Emily shook JJ’s hand to congratulate her for the win. JJ grinned and kissed her. 

Then, they looked around and realized two things: it was past one in the morning and Penelope hadn’t come back to the room yet and that all of the blankets that JJ owned were currently being used in the blanket fort. 

“Can we sleep in my bed, tonight?” Emily asked. “I’ll help you clean up in the morning.” 

JJ nodded but was in the middle of texting Penelope, wondering where on earth her roommate had wandered off to. Within a minute she got back to JJ saying: with derek! will explain tmrw!! 😘 🧚‍♀️ 😳

JJ showed Emily the message and both girls giggled. Emily saw that coming, but didn’t realize it would be a game of Clue that finally sealed the deal.

Exhausted but happy and relaxed after the game night, Emily and JJ tumbled into Emily’s bed and cuddled up together. Between JJ and Emily, the word ‘love’ was left unsaid that night, but Emily fell asleep that night feeling a new warmth in her chest.

[kurt-nightcrawler]

And I figured out we’re dating in this Chili’s tonight

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Request: Mother Nature and warren have my whole ass HEART!!!!! I loved flower so much. I know you’re gonna write lil dates one day I wonder if you’ll write something of how they officially got together?? Like who asked who to be each other’s girlf/boyf . Would be so cute I know you’re busy but either way all your fics are *chefs kiss* —(I think this was from an anon!)

Blurb: Mother Nature and Warren are officially dating! They figured it out!

Warnings: some language and mentions of sex

Word Count: 7.6k

A/N: the timeline is kind of all over. This is set before Decay but I posted it way after! Anyway! Enjoy!

Warren was on Instagram as Scott explained the plot of Fast and The Furious 7 to Jean. 

“It’s not good— but my dad loves them— mostly for the cars— but it’s supposed to be the last movie in the franchise. I think…” 

Warren rarely posted— on his story and his main page— but he looked at what his friends were up to. 

He tapped on (Y/N)’s profile icon to view her story— the highlight of his lunch period. She wasn’t around for the time being— she had mentioned a test she was retaking, which made Warren sad. He wouldn’t get to sit next to her and share whatever fruit she grew for lunch, but he also wanted her to do well and get good grades. 

(Y/N) had posted a photo of a movie poster with the caption, “OHMYGOD!! ” followed by a blue and yellow shocked face emoji and a heart-eyed emoji. The movie poster in question was for the animated Addams Family movie. 

“Is there a new Addams family movie coming out?” Warren asked. 

“Yeah, (Y/N) watched the latest trailer during class. She’s really excited about it,” Jean told him.

Warren felt himself get shaky with nerves and excitement. He could ask her to go see it with him. Just him. Not with the whole group, or Jubilee third-wheeling, or Jean and Scott with them, making out in the seat next to them. 

Wait. 

Am I going to ask her on a date? Is that what this is? A date? 

“You good?” Scott asked.

“What?” Warren glanced at him. “Oh, yeah… Yeah, I’m good.” 

“Okay.”

Warren went back to his phone, pressing reply to (Y/N)’s story post about the Addams Family movie coming out. 

He started to type out a message. 

“Hey. Would you want to see this together when it comes out? We could also go out for dinner?” Warren then promptly deleted the entire message. 

No, no. That makes me sound like a lonely middle-aged mom. He thought to himself.

“I think it was fine!”

“Ah!” Warren flinched. “Did you read my mind, Jean?” 

“No…” Jean denied.

Warren frowned. 

“I was curious as to what you were doing, and you were really nervous and your thoughts are loud anyway.” 

“What?” Scott asked. 

“Warren’s trying to ask (Y/N) out on a date to the movies,” Jean explained.

“It’s not a date!” Warren tried to defend.

“When is it ever going to be a date?” Scott asked. “It wasn’t a date when she slept over in your room and you watched Phineas and Ferb and ordered pizza. It wasn’t a date when you spent three hours at the library studying together. It wasn’t a date when you spent the afternoon together and she told you her secret brownie recipe! When is it ever going to be a date?”

“I… I don’t… Those were not dates...” 

“They kind of were,” Jean admitted. “That’s what people do on dates. Scott and I do stuff like that all the time…” 

Warren blinked. 

“You’ve dated people before, right?” Scott asked him.

“I mean “date” is a loose term but, yeah…” 

 Scott decided he didn’t have time to unpack that sentence. “Okay. What did you do with them to like, spend time together, and stuff?”

“We mostly just got drunk and hooked up…” 

Scott sighed, “You sound like my brother after he got out of jail.” 

“Warren, have… you… never been on a real date before?” Jean asked.

“Well, um, I mean, my last “girlfriend” and I went to clubs and stuff in Germany, but we’d usually go with some friends…” He admitted.   

“Oh my god…” Scott mumbled.

Warren panicked. “Wait, did— Did (Y/N) think we were dating this whole time?” 

“I don’t know,” Jean shrugged.

“Everyone else thought you guys were,” Scott muttered. 

“So we’ve been dating this whole time?” 

“I mean, kind of…” 

Warren paled. He had no idea what to do. Were they dating? Were they not dating? What was he supposed to do as a boyfriend? Or not a boyfriend? 

“Just ask her, ‘what are we?’ That should clear things up.” 

Warren gawked at Scott. “What are we? That’s the cliche that makes guys run for the hills! I can’t ask her that!”

“(Y/N)’s reasonable,” Jean reminded him. “If you ask her that, she won’t run away.” 

Warren didn’t say anything back. 

“Just ask her what you were originally going to say on Instagram.”

Warren whined. 

“Do it now.” Jean advised. “Before Jubilee makes plans to see the movie with her.” 

Warren paled at the possibility of (Y/N) not being available. He quickly typed out another message and sent it. 

“Oh my god! Oh my god, I just did that! Hhhhh…” Warren quickly threw his phone on the table and refused to look at it. 

Jean chuckled and rolled her eyes, taking his phone to see if (Y/N) replied.

—

(Y/N) finished her test early and decided to check up on some of the plants in the attic greenhouse before her next class. 

She had been focusing on a baby caladium, making sure it had plenty of sun and water and was growing at a healthy pace. 

(Y/N) named it, Warren Worthington IV, but she told no one and would take that piece of information to the grave.  

 As she was poking Warren the Fourth’s soil to see if it needed water for the day, she felt her phone vibrate against her thigh in her pocket. 

She pulled it out to see that Warren— the Third— had replied to her Instagram story. Her eyes turned pink just by reading his name on her phone screen.  

“Do you want to see this together Friday night? We could go to Chili’s before and get dinner?”

(Y/N) read the message over at least ten times. Dinner and a movie? Was Warren asking her on a date? 

Her eyes were orange in confusion and purple due to nerves. 

She took a few minutes but finally responded with, “Yeah! There’s a showing on Friday at 9 at the theatre by the mall. Does that work?” 

Warren immediately hearted the message and said, “Yeah :)” 

(Y/N) hearted his message. Excited and a bit nervous for Friday, she left the attic and headed to her next class. 

—

(Y/N) ignored any work she had after class and immediately went through her closet, rummaging for clothes.

“Whatcha doing?” Ororo asked, setting her books on her bed. 

“You’ve been on plenty of not date dates,” (Y/N) began. Ororo gave her a curious look. “What would you wear?”

“Are you going out on a date?” Ororo asked. 

“Well, not exactly…” (Y/N) confessed. 

Ororo smirked as she opened her notebook and started working on an assignment, “Is it with Warren?”

“Who else would it be?” (Y/N) asked.

“I don’t know… Dylan from math class? Ruby from my yoga class? The handful of people from Bayville you’ve kissed at house parties before you even knew Warren? There are options.”

(Y/N) was not amused. 

“Are you and Warren going out on a date? Or is this a ‘we’re just hanging out… alone together… but just as friends! Because we are friends! Who like each other very romantically! But we refuse to do anything about it!’”

(Y/N) sighed. “Okay, so he didn’t explicitly say it was a date, but we’re seeing the new Addams Family movie and going to Chili’s.” 

Ororo blinked in shock, Warren asked (Y/N) to see a movie about one of her favorite franchises and go to one of her favorite go-to restaurants, and he didn’t clarify if it was a date or not? 

What a dumbass, Ororo mused, tearing herself away from her work to go on her phone.

 Ororo

Are you and (Y/N) going on a date?

 No response. 

Ororo went back to her homework, glancing at (Y/N) every so often to give feedback on the numerous items she pulled out of her closet. 

“Is a dress too much?” 

“Definitely,” Ororo stated without looking up. “I’ve only worn a dress twice since I came here and one I borrowed from Jubilee.” 

(Y/N) sighed and kept looking for options. Ororo’s phone screen lit up, and she quickly grabbed it, checking to see if Warren responded.

 Warren

I think so???

 Ororo

What do you mean? “i tHiNk So” 

 Warren

*not amused emoji* 

I’m not sure if we’re dating or not. We were gonna talk about it at dinner.

 “Are you and Warren dating?” Ororo asked. 

(Y/N) froze at the question, unsure what to say. “I mean… no… but like, we like each other— or I like him. I think he likes me. Sometimes I’m not really sure—”

“—(Y/N),” Ororo interrupted. “He likes you a lot. Assume this is a date.” 

“Assume— What?” (Y/N) gaped.   

Ororo looked at her phone again, seeing five text messages from Warren in panic, asking why she didn’t respond.

 Ororo

Calm down!

You should thank me

 Warren

Ro…

What did you do?...

 Ororo

You have to trust me… ;)

 Warren

*Not amused emoji*

 Ororo left Warren on read and continued her assignment. Until someone barged into the room, unexpected.

Jubilee came in, bubbling with enthusiasm. “I heard from Jean! Oh my god, I have to help you pick out an outfit! This is huge!” 

“It’s not a date…” (Y/N) awkwardly tried to explain.

“Oh, no— it definitely is!” 

Ororo and (Y/N) were both confused. 

“We all know Warren is a little… emotionally hesitant…” Juilee carefully stated. “But like, if it was anyone else they would have literally said, “Wanna go on a date with me and see The Addams Family?” Warren’s just scared you’d say no— which you’d never do.” 

“Is he— I thought he knew I liked him?”

“He’s a guy,” Jubilee explained as she looked in (Y/N)’s closet for something she could wear. “They never know what they’re doing.”

(Y/N) sat on the floor, with more questions than answers from everything Jubilee had said.

“This would be perfect!” It was a black skater skirt. “Skirts are your best friend in times like these.” 

“Huh?” 

“Incase anything happens… Duh!” Jubilee stated it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. (Y/N) didn’t respond, causing Jubilee to groan. 

“From That 70s Show? Skirts are your best friend for sex. Zip, zip, bim, bam! You’re done, you’re dressed, you’re back to whatever you were doing. Nobody suspects a thing!” 

“Jubilee, they’re seeing a kids movie, not having sex,” Ororo told her.

“Hmm…” Jubilee crossed her arms. “You should still wear the skirt. You look really pretty in it anyway.” 

(Y/N) sat there, eyes wide and purple, mind reeling, trying to process what Jubilee said.

“We’re… We’re not going to have sex, are we? I’m not— I don’t think— I don’t even know if we’re dating or not!” 

“Hey, hey— Jubilee’s just messing around.” Ororo moved from her bed to sit next to (Y/N) and rub her back. “She’s just used to Scott and Jean’s shenanigans. Plus, Warren’s a good guy! He won’t pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to and he’s too nervous to do anything like that anyway.”

 “Warren’s like, obsessed with you, in a good way. And if he doesn’t respect your boundaries I can snap his neck for you.” Jubilee innocently smiled and batted her eyes. 

“Thanks… Do you think my soft dark green sweater would look good with the skirt?”

  “Oh my god yes!” Jubilee grabbed it out of the closet and set it on (Y/N)’s bed. “And with your Doc Martens? Goth little plant goddess vibes. I love it.”

“You think I’ll be warm enough? Should I bring a jacket?” (Y/N) checked the weather on her phone. 

“You should be fine! Besides, if you’re cold…” Jubilee smirked. “You can always cuddle with Warren in the movie theatre.” 

Ororo smiled and rolled her eyes, while (Y/N) decided to humor her, “I’ll keep it in mind.” 

—

Friday couldn’t come soon enough— Warren kept thinking about how (Y/N) said, “Yes.” And about what might happen, how he would bring up the question that would change everything. He was distracted during training, nervous, and lost in thought. He constantly talked about his weekend plans with some of their friends. 

Some found it annoying at first, but most had never seen Warren so passionate about something before. It was sweet.

“I dunno, I just want things to go well. But what if I make things awkward? I say or do something really stupid? What if I spill my drink all over my crotch and then it looks like I peed myself?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Ororo reassured him. 

“What if our server flirts with her?”

“Just glare at them. You’re scary enough.” 

Warren sighed, wishing time moved as fast for him as it did for Peter.

“Just be yourself and have a good time. Open doors for her, tell her she’s beautiful, if she’s cold give her your jacket, walk her back to her dorm room— things like that.” Ororo told him. “Those will make it obvious that it’s a date. Because you guys do date activities all the time, and you refuse to admit it’s a date.” 

Warren huffed at her. Ororo stuck out her tongue.  

—

It was Friday.

(Y/N) had been antsy in all of her classes, just wanting them to end so she could get ready for the night. 

She had her outfit picked out and ready. (Y/N) planned on light makeup— a little eyeshadow and lipgloss— and she had a small little purse packed with a few things. 

 (Y/N) started to doubt herself. “Maybe a skirt is too much… It’s dinner and a movie… Maybe I should just wear jeans…”  

She huffed as she held the skirt up to her waist. “But I wanna look cute… Screw it!” 

(Y/N) slipped the skirt and sweater on, doing a french tuck, and then started to apply makeup. She was done in under thirty minutes, and then looked over her hair in the mirror, trying to hastily pluck out leaves and shove flowers into different areas of her head and strategically place them under specific sections. 

Once (Y/N) was satisfied with how she looked, she checked the time. It was 5:30, and (Y/N) and Warren weren’t leaving until six. So she had time to just sit around and wait.

(Y/N) pulled her phone out and opened Snapchat, choosing to take at least a hundred selfies with different filters. 

Holding her phone from different angles, making different faces, posing in slightly different positions, and choosing a new filter every five photos, almost like a mini-photoshoot in the palm of her hand. Some selfies got posted to her Snapchat story, others were sent to Jubilee and Ororo, and the remainder were saved but would probably never see the light of day. She huffed and tapped through people’s Snapchat stories to kill more time.

Warren asked Jubilee for help. 

Well, he didn’t exactly ask, she just texted him, “I’m helping you get ready.” And he thanked her. 

“One of the hottest things a guy can do is have good hygiene. You, surprisingly, already have accomplished that—”

“Hey!” Warren frowned as he pulled his leather jacket out from his closet. “Did you, like, think I didn’t?”

“No! I’m just surprised you know what exfoliate means… Do you have a different jacket? That one is cute and everything, but it’s a bit much.” 

“It’s the easiest one I can get my wings out of,” Warren explained while slipping on a black shirt.

“Why? Also, do you only wear black?” Jubilee complained.

“In case (Y/N) gets cold…? Also, no, I have that one yellow sweater you made me get and some white shirts.” Warren defended.

Jubilee almost scoffed, “(Y/N)’s not going to get cold. You’re going out to eat and the movies.”

“Well, Ororo said I should give her my jacket in case she is cold.” 

“Fair enough,” Jubilee mumbled. “I was supposed to hang out with Ororo tonight… We were going to make Tiktoks and watch Wonder Woman.”

“I thought she went stargazing with Kurt?” Warren asked as he laced up his boots. 

“Yeah! And they didn’t invite me!” Jubilee flopped onto Kurt’s empty bed and huffed.

“Jubilee— I don’t think—”

“I’m a fucking delight to be around!” 

Warren’s eyes widened, “I didn’t say you weren’t.” 

“It sucks because Kurt’s got the accent, he can sword fight, he likes movies but hates Tarantino, he’s respectful, god and he’s just as hot as Ororo.” 

“Um…” Warren furrowed his brows. “Do you think, maybe— maybe uh, Ororo thinks you like Kurt?” 

Jubilee looked at him with a deadpan expression. Warren panicked, thinking he said the wrong thing. 

“I like both of them, Bird brain! It’s the fact they haven’t expressed liking me at all and probably don’t want that. Also like half of the girls at Bayville think Kurt’s hot and try to kiss him at house parties.” 

“Oh…” Warren hadn’t considered that. “Um… I uh, I had a threesome once—” 

“Oh my god! Stop!” Jubilee cringed. “I don’t wanna hear about that right now! Go get your girlfriend, and like, yawn, and stretch your arm out over her while Gomez confesses his undying love for Morticia for the millionth time.” 

“Okay, okay.” Warren grabbed his phone and wallet. “Don’t spend all night in here,” He advised, leaving Jubilee alone in his room. 

—

Warren sent (Y/N) a text, asking if she was ready. She said yes, and asked him to meet her in the common room area. 

Warren found her sitting in a lounge chair, talking to a student. (Y/N) turned her head and saw Warren. She got up and smiled, bid the other person goodbye, and then walked over to Warren. 

“Hey!” She greeted him. 

“Uh, hey.” Warren tried to discreetly check her out. She looked nice. “You look really nice.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks.” (Y/N)’s pink eyes shifted to a slightly purple hue. “You do too.”   

“Thanks… Are you ready to go?” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah. What car are we taking?”

“Um…” Warren realized he didn’t decide on which one of Xavier’s numerous cars he was taking out for the night. Not that it mattered, but he was a bit frustrated with himself on that one. 

“I don’t know…” 

(Y/N) snickered to herself. “That’s fine. It doesn’t matter. Jubilee and I do have a rule though.” 

“What is it?” 

“Whatever car Scott and Jean took last, don’t even touch it.” 

Warren blinked, “I don’t get it.” 

(Y/N)’s eyes turned purple completely. 

“Um, uh, it’s cause um— it’s not... clean...”

“Oh…” Suddenly, everything connected in Warren’s mind.  

“Oh!”       

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah...” 

“Scott likes the Oldsmobile rocket. Maybe we should avoid that one…”

“Yeah. Yeah…”

They picked a different car. Warren didn’t get a chance to open the door for (Y/N), but he told himself the night had only just begun, and he’d get another chance. 

 “Want me to play some music?” (Y/N) asked.

“Sure! Play whatever you want.”

“You don’t have a preference or anything…?” She questioned, while her thumb hovered over the play button of a playlist. 

“Not really… Besides, I can pick next time.” 

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed purple and she mumbled in agreement and started a playlist. 

Warren cursed internally to himself. Why would I say that? Why did I say that!? As if I’d have the privilege of going out with her again after that dumbass sentence. 

Warren made a lame attempt to change the subject. “Are you excited about the movie?”

 “Yeah! They announced the cast like a year ago, and I thought it was going to be live-action, but animation is probably better for The Addams Family. It’s supposed to be really good! Oscar Isaac is voicing Gomez—” 

“—Who?”

“Poe from Star Wars…”

“Finn’s boyfriend?” Warren asked.

(Y/N) smiled, “Yeah, yeah. Him.” 

“I haven’t seen anything else he’s been in, but Kurt and Scott say he’s a really good actor.”

“Hmm…” I wonder if she thinks he’s hot… I mean Oscar is, but I doubt I can compete with that. 

No, no, Worthington. Remember what Jean said, “No self-deprecating thoughts.”

“Pugsley’s voiced by Finn Wolfhard. He was in Stranger Things…”

Warren nodded, he knew what Stranger Things was. He watched it with Jubilee, Kurt, and Ororo over Labor Day weekend.  

“He plays Will, right?” 

“No. Finn has curly hair…” “Dustin?...” Warren was unsure about his answer, but he knew Dustin had curly hair. 

“Mike. Eleven’s boyfriend? Black hair?” 

“Oh… Okay… I feel really stupid. I should have known that.” 

(Y/N) scoffed, “You’re fine. There’s like seven of them, and that’s not even including the adults and the characters our age.”

“Yeah, that’s true, I guess. I might rewatch it…” 

An idea came to (Y/N), “We should have like, a marathon with our friends! We could also play D&D.” 

“I never played before,” Warren admitted. 

“I haven’t either really… but I kind of know how to play… Scott’s played before! He was really into D&D before he came to Xavier’s.” 

Warren chuckled quietly, “That doesn’t surprise me.” 

“Yeah, he’s kind of a dork, but just because you play a board game doesn’t mean you’re lame.”

“Yeah— Do you see any parking spots?” Warren asked.

(Y/N) shifted in her seat, looking for an empty spot, “Yeah, right there.” 

 Warren slowed down and started to pull in. “God, I’m so bad at parking. Please don’t judge me.” 

(Y/N) laughed, “You can’t be bad as Jubilee. She tried to park at the mall and ran over a curb. We thought the tired popped off!” 

“No!” Warren gasped. 

(Y/N) nodded, “The car was fine, but Jubilee had Jean drive home.” 

Warren snickered as he put the car in park and then turned it off. 

(Y/N) got out before Warren could open the door for her. He bit his lip in frustration. 

“Oh, the sun is so pretty!” (Y/N) cooed. “I love golden hour sometimes.”

 “I don’t… What?” Warren wasn’t too sure what golden hour was. Jubilee had mentioned it before, but he never asked what it meant. 

“Come here—” (Y/N) pulled out her phone and held it horizontally. “Get in the frame and smile!” 

Warren obliged, smiling and doing an awkward peace sign. (Y/N) grinned, also doing a peace sign, with her eyes closed and tongue poking out slightly. 

“Let me see how it turned out— Oh my god! We look amazing.” She was practically gleaming as she angled the phone towards Warren so he could see the photo. 

Warren smiled. 

“Want me to send this to you?” (Y/N) asked. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“There!” (Y/N) smiled. “I sent it.” Warren thanked her and they headed into Chili’s.  

He managed to open the door in time for (Y/N). 

“Oh…” Her eyes shifted to a slight violet hue, the nerves of is this a date or not? Coming back to her. “Thanks…” 

“You’re welcome.”  

The hostess greeted them and asked how many were in their party. 

“Two,” Warren responded. 

“Alright, follow me.” She grabbed two menus and had them follow her to a booth.

“Here you guys are. Your server will be with you soon.” 

“Oh my god, I’m really hungry…” (Y/N) unfolded her menu and buried her nose in it.

“Uh, me too…” Warren browsed his menu.

“Hi, I’m Ariana, I’ll be your server tonight! What can I get you guys started with to drink?”

“I’ll have a Coke Zero,” Warren told her.

“I’ll have a strawberry lemonade,” (Y/N) answered. 

“I’ll get those right out for you.” 

“Thanks!”

She walked off, leaving Warren and (Y/N) alone. 

“Do you know what you’re gonna get?” (Y/N) asked. She was eyeing the nachos and the chicken crispers.

“Uh… Not really…” Warren awkwardly admitted. “The fajitas look good, but that’s a lot of food.” 

“Yeah, they’re good though.” 

Their server came back with their drinks asking if they needed more time to look at the menu. She smiled and said she’d be back. 

“You’ve been here before, right?” (Y/N) asked Warren. She swore he had, but perhaps she was wrong.

“Once, with the guys. We were comforting Peter after another failed Tinder date. I think I got... nachos? I don’t remember.” 

(Y/N) chuckled to herself. “Peter needs to try another dating app.”

“He’s got like three.” 

“Oh, jeez— Jubilee almost downloaded tinder but she doesn’t need it.” 

Warren furrowed his brows, “Huh? Isn’t she into that one dude from Bayville? And Ororo?”

(Y/N) nodded and took a sip of her lemonade. 

Warren jokingly rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand her.” 

Ariana came back, asking if they were ready to order. 

“Yeah, um, I’ll have the nachos with chicken,” (Y/N) told her. 

“Nachos with chicken,” Ariana repeated. “And you?” She asked Warren.

“I’ll have the Santa Fe chicken salad.”

She wrote it down on a little notepad, “Santa Fe chicken salad. Alrighty! Those will be right out.” 

“Thanks.”

“Thank you.” 

(Y/N) took another sip of her lemonade, letting it fill the silence. 

Warren was suddenly very nervous. “Um…”  “You okay?... Is there something on my face? Do I have lipstick on my teeth?” (Y/N) started to worry. 

“You don’t have any lipstick on…” Warren stated a bit dumbfounded. 

“Oh…” 

“Um, anyway, I um— I like— I want, no. Um, is this— Is this a date?” 

“Um…” (Y/N) froze up for a moment. “You asked me out.” 

“Um, yeah, if you don’t want this to be a date, it like, isn’t then, you know? I mean, I didn’t really specify.”

“I kind of thought this was a date,” (Y/N) admitted.

Kind of… That’s good— Wait. Does she not want this to be a date?

“Do you want this to be a date?” Warren asked.

“Uh, yeah. I wouldn’t mind if it was, but like, we’re just friends so if you didn’t mean for it to be a date then that’s cool. Pretend I didn’t say anything.” 

(Y/N) avoided eye contact as she drank more lemonade, her eyes fully purple.   

“No, no! Um, I do want this to be a date. I um, I really, uh, I really like you.” Warren nervously confessed.

God, I hope I die here, right now, He silently pleaded. 

“Uh, yeah… I like you too… That’s kind of why I’ve been like, hanging out with you, alone, um, a lot…” 

“Me, um— me too.” Warren awkwardly took a sip of his soda. 

“Great.” 

“Great.”

“...”

“...” 

“Are— are we... dating?” Warren asked.

“Uh… I guess so?” (Y/N) wasn’t too sure how to respond, but when she saw Warren’s face fall slightly she quickly changed her words. 

“I mean, I think we are. I hope so. Um—”

“—We’re dating then?” Warren asked.

“We’re dating!” 

“Great!”

“Great!”

Soon as they figured it out, Ariana came in with their food. 

“Alright, I’ve got the Sante Fe chicken salad,” She set the plate in front of Warren. “And the nachos with chicken!” She set that plate in front of (Y/N). 

“Do you guys need anything else?” 

“I think we’re good for now,” Warren told her. “Thanks, though.” 

“Let me know if you need anything!” Ariana left the couple to eat their food. 

“Oh my gosh, yours looks really good,” (Y/N) commented.  

 “You can have some if you want,” Warren offered. 

“Oh, thanks!” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

The conversation died down a bit as Warren and (Y/N) focused on their food, but Warren was internally stressing.

I have no idea what boyfriends do. Am I doing a good job right now? What if she tells Jubilee and then Jubilee murders me because so far I’m a shitty boyfriend? 

Maybe I can hold her hand while we watch The Addams Family… How do I initiate that? What if she doesn’t want to hold my hand? 

Why do I want to hold her hand?... Warren almost visibly shuddered at the feeling of love. Ew… feelings…

Warren snapped back into reality for a moment, watching (Y/N) spill a piece of chicken into her lap. 

“Shoot!” 

Warren didn’t need his eyes to turn pink to show he was awestruck by her. She’s adorable… I’m so lucky to be her boyfriend…

—

Once they had finished, their server Ariana came back asking if they needed to-go boxes and if they wanted the check.

“Do you want it separate or together?” 

“Together,” Warren told her. (Y/N) furrowed her brows for a moment, eyes a bit orange, as Ariana left to go get the check. 

“I’m paying,” Warren stated nonchalantly as he got his card out. 

“Oh, okay.” 

Ariana came back with two to-go boxes and the check. 

Warren handed her his card and she walked away. 

(Y/N) started to put her leftover nachos in her box. Warren scooped his leftover salad into his to-go box. 

“Alright! Here’s your card and receipt,” Ariana handed those to Warren. “Do you guys need anything else?” 

“I think we’re good.” 

“Alright! Have a good night!” 

“You too!”

Warren was figuring out how much to tip. “Is like, $10 good?” 

“What?” (Y/N) asked.

“To tip…?” Warren awkwardly said.

“What’s the total?”

“Uh… $28.76.” 

“Warren, that’s like a 35% tip, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Warren shrugged. “Look, servers don’t get paid enough.” 

“You’re right.” 

Warren finished filling out his receipt, then he looked at (Y/N). “Are you ready to go?” 

“Yep! I’ll get the boxes.” (Y/N) picked hers up and reached over for Warren’s.

“No, I got it. I can carry them.” 

“No, I can carry them,” (Y/N) insisted. 

“I’m your boyfriend, let me carry them,” Warren insisted. 

(Y/N)’s heart did a flip at the fact he said, boyfriend. 

“... Fine…” She let Warren carry the to-go boxes. 

He also managed to open the door for her when they left. 

(Y/N) was still trying to process the fact they were dating. 

What’s the date? I should write it down. So I can remember for our first anniversary! 

Will we last that long?... I hope so… I really like Warren… Maybe I should tell him?

No… That’s kind of embarrassing…

“So…” (Y/N) trailed off.

“Yeah?” Warren asked, eyes on the road.

“I don’t know…” She admitted.

“Oh…” Things were starting to get awkward. Warren didn’t want things to be awkward. Awkwardness would ruin the relationship.

But Warren was bad at small talk. He was bad at socializing, period. And while he had improved, he still got nervous. He hated being nervous— scared. He didn’t want to come off as weak or vulnerable. 

But he didn’t want to come off as scary or cold-hearted either. 

It was a hard scale to balance. 

“Okay, I don’t want to be rude, but who taught you how to drive?” (Y/N) asked.

“Sean…?” Warren stated. 

(Y/N) face practically lit up in realization, “That explains a lot.”

”What do you mean?”

“You were taught how to drive by someone who originally learned how to drive on the other side of the road!”

“That— What does that have to do with my shitty parking?” Warren asked. “I drive on the “right side of the road”. 

(Y/N) laughed. 

“Look,” Warren explained. “If I’m bad at parking that’s on me. The lines caught me!” 

“Haha! Yeah.” (Y/N) laughed. “At least you don’t hit curbs like Jubilee.” 

Warren laughed, “Yeah!” 

“Come on— I want to get good seats!” Warren put the car in park and turned it off. (Y/N) and he both got out and walked towards the theatre. Along the way she (not-so) discreetly slipped her hand into Warren’s. He blushed and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. (Y/N) did her best to not grin her face off. 

Warren had to let go of (Y/N)’s hand momentarily, so he could open the door, causing her to frown a bit and her eyes to go a bit grey. 

This is a crime! I don’t want to let go of his hand!

Warren slipped his hand back into (Y/N)’s once they were inside, and her eyes went back to their “normal” pink shade. 

Warren paid for their tickets and they picked out seats in the back row. They weren’t in the center, but sitting in the back row was best due to Warren’s wings. 

“Auditorium three is on your left!” The ticket ripper told them as she ripped their tickets in half and handed them back. 

“Thanks!... Do you want any snacks?” Warren asked (Y/N) as they passed the concession stand to auditorium three. 

“Nah, I’m not hungry,” (Y/N) said. “You?”

“No, not really.” 

They walked into auditorium three and looked around for their seats. 

“Wow, it’s really crowded,” Warren observed. He was a bit nervous, folding his wings back tightly as he could. 

“Yeah, it’s opening night,” (Y/N) reminded him. “Row G is up this way.”

He was used to the stares for the most part, but he hadn’t been exposed to many kids and soccer moms outside the mansion— not that there exactly were any soccer moms at Xavier’s. 

Luckily, Warren didn’t see anyone glare at him or (Y/N). They both got into their seats without any problem. Their seats were recliners, where if you moved the arm up, you could almost be on top of each other. 

Warren thought this would be perfect for him to maybe wrap his arm around (Y/N), but he was far too nervous. Their hands were still intertwined, which was good enough for him, but Warren was trying with all his might to not have his hand get sweaty. 

That would be so embarrassing…

Once they got situated, and the movie trailers began, (Y/N)’s eyes were focused on the screen. Warren glanced at her for a moment, once the lights dimmed, but his gaze quickly flickered to the screen as to not get caught.

“That movie looks good!” (Y/N) whispered into Warren’s ear. He nodded, not exactly sure what he should respond with. 

Halfway through the film, while Gomez was saying something stupidly romantic to Morticia, Warren did something risky.

Well, not necessarily risky, but if Jubilee or Scott caught him doing it, they’d tease him relentlessly.  

Warren yawned, not very loudly, and then stretched his arm out and over (Y/N)’s shoulders. He fiddled with a leave that dangled from her head. 

His heart was racing. Oh my god, she’s going to think I’m a weirdo. Why did I do that? Who even does the yawn and stretch move anymore? Literally no one!

(Y/N)’s heart started racing when she realized what he had done, Oh my god! Oh my god… This is happening! Oh my god! Just relax, (Y/N), just relax. Be cool. Warren’s cool… he’s being effortless at this “dating” thing… 

They were both too nervous to initiate any further and decided to get reabsorbed in the plot of the movie.

—

As the credits rolled and the lights came back on, Warren and (Y/N) gained space between them awkwardly pretending like nothing happened. 

(Y/N) filled the awkward silence by raving about the film. 

“I loved it! I thought it was so cool, you could see all the family members in the background and like, the backstory they gave them was really creative, and just oh my god the animation style was super neat too! I liked what they did with Ophelia’s design, even though she wasn’t in it very long.”

“Who’s Ophelia?” Warren asked. 

“So she’s Morticia’s sister— they look almost the same, except Morticia is goth and Ophelia is more like me. She has flowers growing on her head and stuff— she was in the background, you probably missed her.”

“That’s cool,” Warren mused. 

“Yeah, she was more in the TV show… What did you think of the movie?” 

“Oh! I thought it was really good! I liked it. The story really, like, reaches out to modern issues and stuff…” 

“Like how everyone was rude to the Addams family because they were gothic and a little different?” (Y/N) asked as she pushed open the door. 

“Yeah. I think if the Addams were real, they’d be mutants,” Warren said as they walked out on to the parking lot.   

“Oh definitely!” (Y/N) agreed. 

Warren smiled as he fished the car keys out of his pocket, and unlocked the car. 

(Y/N) and Warren both got in the car and put on their seat belts. Warren then backed out of the parking lot and made his way onto the main road to drive back to Xavier’s. 

“So uh… Are we gonna, like, tell our friends we’re dating?” (Y/N) asked.

Warren blinked. 

“Yeah? Did you— do you not want to?” Warren felt like he had just seen someone kick a puppy.

“No!— No, I do!” (Y/N) clarified.

Whew!

 “I just— I don’t know how I guess? Jubilee walked in on Jean and Scott making out in her room and then she told everyone and then Scott was all, like, super awkward about it, but then they admitted they were dating.”  

“Sounds stressful,” Warren decided. “We could just like, text the group chat?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) shrugged. “That works.”

 X-BABES

 (Y/N)

So… Warren and I dating

 Jubilee

Finally!

 Scott

^^lol. Congrats.

 Kurt

Weren’t you already dating?

 (Y/N)

No?...

 Kurt

…

……….

 (Y/N) laughed quietly to herself. 

“What’s up?” Warren asked.

“Kurt thought we were dating this whole time,” She explained.

“Oh… Oh?” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah.” 

“I didn’t— I didn’t tell him anything— that like, wasn’t true. I don’t know why he thought that—”

(Y/N) giggled. “Ren, it’s fine. We’ve shared a bed before— in your guys’ room no less— he’s gonna assume stuff.” 

“Still…” 

“Well, we’re dating now… So, it doesn’t really matter,” (Y/N) pointed out.

Warren couldn’t hide the blush on his face at the fact they were finally dating. He hoped it was too dark for (Y/N) to see it.

“Do I turn left here?” He asked.

“Yeah, then you turn into the gates.” 

Warren did so and drove around the X-Mansion, into the garage.   

“I’ll grab the food and put it in the fridge,” (Y/N) told Warren as he turned the car off. 

“Okay.” 

They both got out of the car— (Y/N) opening the back door to grab the white to-go boxes.

Warren followed her into the mansion. 

They stopped in the kitchen and (Y/N) set the boxes on the counter. “Do you see a sticky note or a pen or something? I need to mark these as ours.” 

“Uh…” Warren looked around the room before spotting a marker. “Here,” He handed it to (Y/N). She scribbled their names down and shoved the leftovers into the fridge.  

 “Now what do you wanna do?” (Y/N) asked Warren.

“Uh… we could um… like, go upstairs maybe?” 

“Do you want to?” She asked.

“I mean if you want to, yeah.” 

“Oh, um, okay.” 

Warren panicked a bit. “If you don’t we don’t have to. We can, like, just kind of chill and see what our friends are doing.” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” 

“Oh, okay.” Warren avoided awkward eye contact as they headed upstairs. 

“We could, um, go to my room…?” (Y/N) offered up. 

“Uh, yeah, that sounds good,” Warren was nervous. He wasn’t sure why— He had no reason to be. He’d been in (Y/N)’s room before. Alone. They’d also spent loads of time together alone doing “couple things” as Scott put it. 

So why was he nervous?

Warren didn’t have time to linger on the thought as he walked into (Y/N)’s room. 

It was a bit cluttered, but he wouldn’t consider it messy. With plants strewn everywhere— floor, walls, ceiling— and some books, posters, and other things you’d expect in (Y/N) and Ororo’s room. 

Ororo wasn’t there though.

“Um, I had a really fun time tonight,” (Y/N) said. Her back was facing Warren for a moment as she doted on a small potted plant. 

“Me too… um… what are you doing tomorrow?” 

“Uh, nothing? I mean Jubilee mentioned going to the skate park tomorrow to take pictures… but she didn’t really say when…” (Y/N) trailed off and turned around to face Warren. 

Their eyes met. (Y/N) stepped forward, towards him.

She glanced at his lips for a moment too long. 

Warren gulped. 

“Can I kiss you…?” (Y/N) murmured. 

Warren’s mouth gaped. “Uh, yeah.” 

(Y/N) leaned in to kiss him, her hands cupping his face. Their lips met. (Y/N) shifted her head a bit as her lips pressed onto his and kissed him. She hooked his bottom lip with her teeth, lightly biting it for a moment. Her hands grabbed the hair near the nape of his neck. 

Warren’s arms were wrapped around her waist, his hands resting on the small of her back. 

(Y/N)’s tongue snuck into his mouth, their lips still pressing together. Warren could feel her smiling. Warren had to break away, for a moment, and regain compulsion. 

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed grey for a split second. She didn’t want to stop. She had become ravenous for Warren’s lips, his tongue… for him in general. It wasn’t exactly a new feeling, but it was foreign, and she liked it.

She blinked. “Sorry, um, I didn’t mean— um, never mind.” 

Warren’s jaw was practically slack. He was speechless. He was not expecting that. At all.

“Warren?” (Y/N) asked. “Are you okay?” 

“What? Yeah, I’m fine!”Warren tried to seem chill.  “I’m fine.” 

“Oh… Well, um, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.” (Y/N) started to worry a bit, thinking maybe she went too far and he didn’t like it.

“I’m— I’m’ not uncomfortable— uh, far from it actually— um, it was, it was really nice, actually.” Warren hoped she wouldn’t look down. 

“Oh, okay. Good.”    

“Um, it’s kind of late—“ 

“—Yeah, definitely.” (Y/N) agreed. 

“You said you were going to… Ulta?... With Jubilee tomorrow?” Warren awkwardly asked.

(Y/N) nodded. 

“Um, I should probably go then… You don’t want to oversleep or anything…” Warren mentally scolded himself for being so awkward. He was usually better than that. 

“Oh, yeah… I’ll see you tomorrow though…” (Y/N) reminded him. “We live here…” 

“Right! Right…” 

“...”

“...” 

“I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight.” Warren quickly kissed (Y/N)’s cheek and headed out the door to his dorm. 

(Y/N) stood there, still processing what just happened. 

“Oh my god… Oh my god! OH MY GOD!” (Y/N) let out. 

She buried her face in her hands. “HOLY SHIT! I like— Oh my god! I did that. I kissed Warren with force and passion and with tongue!” She exclaimed. 

“I kissed my boyfriend with tongue. I cannot believe I did that! Oh my god!” 

Unbeknownst to her, Warren had heard most of her excited screams as he left her room. He was ecstatic by her enthusiasm. 

Warren went down the halls to the boys’ dormitory. Kurt wasn’t in their room, leaving Warren alone. He wanted to be alone. Alone with his thoughts for the first time in a long time. Warren wanted to lay in his bed and have the night’s events replay in his mind as he fell asleep. 

Warren was officially dating (Y/N). 

He didn’t have to assume things, dance on eggshells wondering if he was doing too much, he no longer had to wish he was her, and Warren didn’t have to admire her in secret. 

Warren wanted to text her, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He sighed, and slipped into some pajamas, and brushed his teeth, leaving his phone open. Hoping by some miracle (Y/N) would text first and he could spend the whole night overthinking what to say back. 

(Y/N) hadn’t texted him. 

Warren got under his sheets and settled into bed, lying on his back and looking up at the ceiling. 

He grabbed his phone and decided to text her. 

Warren looked at the last thing (Y/N) had sent him. It was the golden hour selfie they took together in the Chili’s parking lot. 

Warren thought he looked rather silly, but he liked the photo nonetheless. He saved it to his camera roll and turned it into his lock screen background. 

Warren couldn’t take it any longer, despite it only being a few minutes, he decided to text (Y/N). 

 Warren

hi 

 (Y/N)

heyyy I thought u were going to bed *side eye emoji*

Warren

Couldn’t sleep

 (Y/N) 

ohhh

whatcha doing right now?

 Warren

Laying in bed. not much really

 (Y/N) 

lol, me too. I just finished spraying the ivy hanging above my bed and my air plant, Clark

 Warren’s heart swelled and he smiled at (Y/N) being so passionate about her plants. 

 Warren

Is that the one in the llama pot?

 (Y/N)

Yea! he’s grown a lot since I got him *bug-eye emoji*

 Warren

That’s good! :)

 (Y/N) 

Yeah!!! 

I hate to do this but I’m really tired, so I’m going to go to sleep

 Warren

That’s okay!! I’m going to watch some YouTube or something to fall asleep. 

 (Y/N)

Okay

Goodnight! *kissy-face emoji with closed eyes and blush* *smiling and blushing face with closed eyes with three hearts around it*

 Warren

*bug-eyed emoji* night, flower

 Warren set his phone off to the side and shifted to a more comfortable position before drifting off to sleep. 

[nananikki-hey]

Talk Sick

Chapter One

Chishiya x Reader

4.9K Words

Only the first 1.7K words bellow, please read the rest on Ao3!

Tokyo was dark, eerie and pitch-black in a way it had never been before, in a way that left you feeling cold and shaking as you padded down the road on unsteady steps. Or maybe that was just the wind on your damp skin (damp with sweat or blood, you didn’t want to be sure) and the tangy taste of blood still on your tongue that made you feel disgusted right down to your core.

Try as you might, you could hardly remember what had happened in the last few hours. It was all just blurs, pleading screams you couldn't understand, that desperate fear in your gut that burned you from the inside out and made you capable of things you didn't want to be capable of ever again.

And red.

So much red.

You thought maybe it was better that the last clear thing you could really recall was your friends’ smiling and laughing faces, as they raced into the salt water at one of the many beaches Chiba had to offer, and left you sitting in content under an umbrella on the sand. Even then, you chose not to really remember, because you doubted it’d give you answers to any of your questions anyway. Because Tokyo was dark.

And you were all alone.

Cradling the arm in a cast to your stomach (because it ached, and you were cold) you stumbled down a lifeless street with no real aim to where you were going, you just wanted far away from that red covered room and the guilt that sat heavy on you there. Gripped tightly in your other hand was a playing card and phone you picked up and hadn’t really payed any mind to after it had chimed that simple “Game Clear”, it wasn’t like you could read anything else on it anyway, and it barely functioned enough as a torch to see your feet. You didn’t know where you were, your feet had carried you for hours already and they hurt with each ‘slap, slap, slap’ against the concrete, and you didn’t know where you were going. But you were tired, and your ears rang.

And Tokyo was quiet.

You just wanted to sleep, and wake up from this nightmare.

Waking up sprawled in the backseat of a car that isn’t yours the next morning, a crick in your neck, arms stiff, leaves you confused for a moment. You just lay there and stare at the roof for what feels like an eternity to try and remember how you got there. The screams came back unbidden, muddy and distant, yet you can’t shut them out fast enough – ending up curled up like a spring and biting your hand to stifle the sobs that make your chest tight for an agonising hour. Then as you quietly unfurl, wipe your eyes, and feel already rough dried tear-tracks; you’re hit with the sour sense of deja vu as you remember crying yourself to sleep just like this the night before.

You had wandered for hours, through the night and hoped to find someone, anyone that could answer your questions. Deep down you were hoping that you just weren’t truly alone now, after the death of so many, but inevitably had given up. You’d found the closest unlocked door, climbed in, and gone to sleep with pleads for it to be a dream on your quivering lips.

Now – when the quiet world outside was still there, overrun with grass and decay, and the physical reminders still stained your skin red – you couldn’t deny it anymore. Tokyo had gone empty of thousands of people, leaving you and (hopefully) a few others in a situation you were sure most would call apocalyptic. But you decide now wasn't the time to think about that, not to dwell and mope and sulk, now was the time to focus on fixing the little things.

Big things would come later (and so would the panic).

You popped the door open and climb out onto bare, unsteady feet as you take a second to look around and maybe figure out where exactly you were; somewhere still in Tokyo, that you knew. You and your friends had wandered around on your first week of vacation enough to have a vague idea of where you were, but you didn’t live here and you certainly didn’t speak the language. So without any of those signs that helpfully included English underneath the Japanese, you had no idea where to start.

“Well…” Your voice was worn, croaky and dry. You didn’t want to think about how it was from all the screaming yesterday. “Small things first… I need to learn how to read.”

You had heard a lot of things about what talking to yourself meant; that it was a sign you’d gone crazy, that it was a good way to work through problems, or that it was even a sign of trauma. Right now you are more inclined to think it was a mixture of all, but what would you know? You weren’t a psychologist.

You looked to the phone still gripped tight in your free hand, pressing the button to bring up the display and glance over the things you could see. The app icons you could understand well enough; a camera, settings, the time, and a gallery for whatever photos or videos you would take. The problem came with the two others. While clearly marked ‘Game’ and ‘VISA’ in English, once you tapped into them the display was mostly Hiragana and Kanji, and the scarce few Katakana you could read weren’t helpful. You’re being naively hopeful right now, you knew, but you weren’t stupid; you figured they were a count of what ‘games’ you had played and, being on a travel VISA already, a VISA for whatever this world around you was (be it another one entirely, the future, or some sort of illusion didn’t matter anymore). Still, seeing the single Heart sign staring back at you made your gut churn uncomfortably, you weren’t going to trust anything in this world at face value anymore. Not when a simple game of catch turned into a one-sided massacre right before your eyes.

So, you decided then and there that the first thing to do was to find a bookstore and track down a Japanese-English Dictionary and start translating every little clue this phone could give. You pause with a shiver, remember that you were still only dressed in your swimmers from yesterday, and sigh.

“Clothes… I’ll need clothes.”

You tucked the phone into the safety of your top, not wanting to risk losing it, and set off. Tokyo is huge, and still as empty as it was before, but with the sun out it’s much easier to find your way around even when you can’t read the signs.

It takes hours, hours that feel gruelling and hopeless and wear at you with every bookshop you find that doesn’t have a guide you can read, but eventually you find what you’re set out to on the bottom shelf in the back of an older bookstore. The store was small, cramped with books, mostly old and full of dust; it’s the type you could picture a small old lady with a welcoming smile to run but seeing it now just makes you feel like the city is just that more empty. But you take the book, sit down right where you are and pull out the phone to rest it on your knee in one fluid motion. Then start flipping through the yellow pages.

You are halfway through the second word in the VISA display when you realise it probably would have been better to find a pen and something to write on before starting, because translating into Romaji then translating into English word-by-word was going to have you getting something wrong. You tuck the phone back where it belongs, hold the book under your cast arm and go off in search of things to write on. You’re lucky, because right across the street is a decent sized Mall, so you know your search will be quick. You go in also hoping to find some clothes along the way.

Which you do. One of the first stores past the coffee shops and little diners at the entrance is a niche little clothing store, with a sign in kanji you can’t read. You almost hesitate at the door, the thought of stealing weighing on you. But you remember the screams, the blood – this world wasn’t going to be nice to you, so why would you be nice back? - then you’re picking up the first backpack you see and stuffing it with clothes. But only a few.

You don’t know what these ‘Games’ are yet, and you’re not naive enough to think it’s a one-and-done deal, so what you grab is practical more then fashion. Sweat pants and a jacket for weather, underwear, shorts, a shirt with a design you didn't pay too much attention to, to change into now. You find and duck into a bathroom, locking the main door without bothering with a stall (because you might not have run into anyone yet, but if apocalypse type movies have taught you anything, never leave yourself vulnerable). Just as you start to strip, you catch your own reflection in the wall wide mirror and freeze; you’d been ignoring it, the blood that had dried and flaked onto your arms, your face, your swimmers, everywhere. But seeing it now there was more then you imagined, almost more blood then bare skin and it makes you’re stomach churn. You all but lunge for the sink, turning the tap frantically and collapsing to your knees when nothing comes out, not even a pity drop.

Now that you had seen it, you could feel it. The crusty dryness that clung to you like a second skin, between your toes and even fingers. You wanted it off, the proof that people had died around you, had died because of you. You didn’t want to see it, you didn’t want to feel it, you didn't want it.

“Please… Please…”

[jayfrost-designs]

This is also from December of last year.

I've had a new idea in my head for Darkstripe for a while now, and after getting all those other ref sheets that I needed to do done, I decided to run with it.  You may have noticed a change in the name of his father in his bio. Don't worry about that just yet.  I'll get to it after talking about the design.

The reverse side of his design can be seen here.

On his wiki page, Darkstripe is described as a large, lean, sleek, and thin-furred tom. I misread the "thin-furred" part of his description as "thick-furred" when I started designing this, so he ended up with a rather thick pelt. Oops.  My explanation/excuse for this is that the thin-furred description comes from his appearance as a Dark Forest cat, so as a living cat he had sleek, thick fur, but after dying he started going all patchy and ragged and his fur started to get pretty thin in places. So that's my half-baked excuse for that.  I went pretty free-hand with this design, but he's mostly based on Turkish Vans, and is meant to be decent-sized and muscular, with a thick mediumish pelt. He has a smaller version of his mother's ear tufts and a decent amount of scars, since he was always pretty aggresive.

For his pattern, Darkstripe is described as a dark gray tabby tom with black stripes and yellow eyes. I completely changed his design from his old one and went for a smoke tabby look for him this time around. His black stripes don't stand out as much as on his old design since the rest of the pelt is darker now, but they're still there, and he's overall a very dark-looking cat, so Dark- fits him well as a prefix. I played around with his design a lot before I was happy with it, but I'm really happy with the end result. ^^ I came up with a fresh shade of yellow for his eyes as well. ^^

Now for the fun part. Since Tawnyspots is no longer listed as his father on the official family tree, I decided to come up with a new headcanon for who his father is. I considered a few cats from ThunderClan at first, but none of them seemed to fit. But then I had a really interesting idea for his father - and for the reason he's a smoke tabby. I'll explain everything below - starting with Willowpelt's story. Apologies in advance for the length. ^^

~-~-~

As a young cat, Willowpelt gets lonely sometimes. Her sister is busy training to be a medicine cat, and Redtail throws himself into his warrior duties so much that he doesn’t spend as much time with her as either of them would like. She doesn’t begrudge either of them their ambitions - she knows Redtail wants to be the best warrior he possibly can (and later has his eye on the deputyship), and Spottedleaf will make an amazing medicine cat. But she doesn’t share their ambitions. She’s always been a much more relaxed cat, content to do her duties as a warrior, but not pushing beyond that, preferring to spend her time racing through the forest on the wild excitement of the hunt, and spend lazy days sunning in the grass, rather than busying herself with constant patrols and duties.

So while her siblings are busy with their work, Willowpelt seeks out companionship elsewhere. She’d always been curious about twolegplace, hearing stories about how their last leader had left to live there, and decided to check it out one day. She doesn’t find Pinestar - but she does find some friendly kittypets who welcome the visit of a real wild Clan cat. She continued to visit occasionally over the moons, whenever she’s feeling particularly lonely. She’s never swayed by the thought of becoming a kittypet herself - she loves her Clan, and her freedom, too much - but she’s happy to visit her kittypet friends whenever she can.

She grows particularly close with a sleek, handsome smoke tom called Sparky. A few moons later, she finds herself expecting the tom’s kits. The two aren’t in love, and Sparky rejects Willowpelt’s offer to join ThunderClan and help raise the kits, but it’s all very amicable and the two remain on close terms. Willowpelt is perfectly happy to raise her kits alone. She later gives birth to a single tom, Darkkit, who looks remarkably like his father. The Clan gossips a little about who the father could possibly be (Willowpelt covers her tracks visiting Twolegplace better than Featherstorm had), but overall they’re just happy to have another kit after the nursery has been empty so long, since White-eye’s last litter.

Willowpelt plans to tell Darkkit about his parentage when he’s old enough, but the young tom grows bitter after moons of some of the stricter cats whispering about his unknown parentage, and the loneliness of being the only kit in the nursery. Willowpelt always assures him that there’s nothing wrong with him and is a fiercely loving mother, but her laidback attitude about borders and rules bothers him - other warriors take these things seriously, so shouldn’t she? A kernel of doubt begins to weed its way onto Darkkit’s mind - what if Willowpelt won’t tell anyone who his father is because his father doesn’t want him? What if it was because he isn’t good enough to be this mystery tom's son? Willowpelt longs to comfort her son that his father does care and does want to be part of his life, but she’s not sure he’s old enough to understand the truth about his father, so she waits.

With all this doubt and bitterness swirling inside him, it’s no surprise that upon becoming an apprentice, Darkpaw immediately attaches himself to the first cat who seems ready to take him seriously and see some potential in him - his new mentor Tigerclaw. To Darkpaw, Tigerclaw is everything a warrior should be. He has the strength of TigerClan, the courage of LionClan, and  is the wisest, most loyal warrior in the entire Clan in the young tom’s eyes. He can’t believe his luck in snagging such a skilled and brave warrior as his mentor, and quickly learns to worship the ground Tigerclaw walks on. A secret part of his heart wonders whether Tigerclaw is his father. They both have dark tabby pelts and fur that grows darker at the points, and while Darkpaw isn’t nearly as tall and long-furred as the older tom, he’s still broader and taller than his mother, and could have inherited that from Tigerclaw. He works tirelessly to mold himself after Tigerclaw’s image and takes all of his training to heart - including his views on loyalty and cats from outside of the Clan.

Willowpelt had intended to tell Darkpaw about his father a moon or so into his training, but the longer he trained with Tigerclaw, the more disdainful he grew of cats outside of the warrior code, especially kittypets. She worries about how much the tom has changed, but he doesn’t seem willing to listen to her anymore, so there’s little she can do to curb Tigerclaw’s influence on her son. She resolved to continue hiding the truth of his father, as Darkpaw is probably happier not knowing the truth, and resolves to keep an eye on her son. It’s not all bad, she assures herself. Tigerclaw has taken the fatherless tom under his wing just as Thistleclaw had done for him, and he seems genuinely proud of his young apprentice - in his own stoic way - and is molding him into a strong warrior. As long as Darkpaw is happy, that’s what matters - right?

Though Darkpaw, then later Darkstripe definitely grows more scornful of others and more conceited over the moons, Willowpelt tries to stay optimistic. He’s a bit of a jerk, yes, but otherwise he seems like a perfectly loyal and happy warrior. But that illusion starts to chip away little by little after Tigerclaw’s exile as Darkstripe continues to show an unhealthy attachment to such a traitor, and then comes crashing down completely the day that Darkstripe tries to poison his own half sister. Unbeknownst to the rest of the Clan, Willowpelt sneaks out after Darkstripe as he’s departing the territory for his exile.

Rage and heartbreak bubble under her pelt in equal measures as she faces her eldest son. Something inside of her is wailing at the loss of the son that she’d loved, and her failure to protect him from becoming this, but the rest of her feels an icy calm. She faces Darkstripe, coldly informing him that if he’s fool enough to follow Tigerstar on his rampage against “impure” cats, then he’d better hand himself over as well for being impure. He’s the very thing that he’s always hated, the thing that he has been relentless in mocking Firestar for being - he’s half kittypet. Darkstripe flies into a rage, shrieking that it isn’t true, it can’t be true, that Willowpelt never loved him and is just lying to make him doubt himself. He tries to attack his mother, but she dances out of range, still glaring at him with icy calm while her heart continues to wail its pain inside of her. She tells him that she loved him with all of her heart, and that if he’d let go of his bitterness and his unhealthy devotion to an admitted traitor long enough he would’ve seen that, but that now it’s too late. She’ll always love him, but she will never forgive him for what he’s done to her daughter. She leaves him there on the border between ThunderClan and TigerClan. He hesitates, but only for a moment. Then he slips into TigerClan territory.

Unfortunately, Darkstripe’s reception at the TigerClan camp is chillier than expected. It was true that Tigerstar had once felt genuine pride and companionship for Darkstripe as his apprentice and as a fellow warrior. He’d always known that Darkstripe was a bit of a suck-up, but he was still strong and a powerful warrior in his own right, and Tigerstar had been proud of the efforts of his first run as a mentor. However, his opinion of Darkstripe had lessened after the tom refused to follow him into exile, and had dropped even more sharply after one of his Twolegplace allies had told him about a smoke kittypet who’d mentioned being friends with forest cats. Tigerstar had taken the chance to spy on the kittypet from a tree one day, only to be shocked at the sight of a cat nearly identical to Darkstripe.

After that, Tigerstar had put together the pieces and realized that Darkstripe was the son of a kittypet. He tells Darkstripe as much when he arrives in TigerClan, glaring down at the groveling tom with a sneer. That kittypet blood has tainted him with weakness, he claimed, weakness that had kept him from following Tigerstar into exile, that had made him fail again and again at Tigerstar’s commands as his spy, and that had made him fail at the simple task of killing one insignificant little kit. Darkstripe quivers before the tom, protesting that it couldn’t be true, though with Tigerstar’s account of the smoke kittypet, he’s starting to realize that it must be. He wails that he’d never known, that Willowpelt had hidden it from him, that she is the true traitor. He didn’t care who his father was, he whimpers - his loyalty was to Tigerstar, it had always been to Tigerstar, and it always would be.

Tigerstar watched the sniveling display with disdain. The tom was undoubtedly tainted by the weakness of his blood, but he’d always shown devotion to Tigerstar. Perhaps he could be given one last chance - but only one. He tells the tom that if he is ever to be anything but the sniveling son of a kittypet, he must prove himself willing to eradicate any disloyalty in the new Clan and pledge himself entirely loyal. He considers ordering the tom to hunt down his kittypet father and slay him, or to sneak into ThunderClan territory and kill his treacherous mother. But there are more pressing concerns facing his Clan right now, and he can’t have one of his warriors off on some lengthy mission to get one well-guarded cat alone when TigerClan is on the verge of conquering the other Clans. Such tests of his loyalty can come later. For now, perhaps a simpler task will do. He still needs someone to take care of those halfClan prisoners after all...

Of course, Darkstripe fails in that task too, and Tigerstar’s rage at yet another failure from his half-kittypet lackey is fearsome to behold. It is only the need for every fighting warrior available for the battle to come that keeps Tigerstar from punishing Darkstripe more severely. A worse fate may have awaited Darkstripe after the battle’s end, had Tigerstar not fallen under Scourge’s claws. And yet, Darkstripe continues his nearly obsessive devotion to the cat he still thinks of as his true father, even if he isn’t a father by blood, and he ends up dying in his quest to avenge the murderous tom. And yet, even a death in service to Tigerstar isn’t enough to truly raise him in the tom’s eyes, and he spends his seasons in the Dark Forest being overshadowed by a Tigerstar’s true sons, until the end of the Dark Battle leaves him to wander alone in the darkness forever.

~-~-~

Anyway, that’s my mini-essay on Darkstripe’s father and life story. XD Overall, I'm really happy with how his design turned out, and I had a lot of fun coming up with his parents' story and his story in regards to thinking of Tigerstar as his father. I also like how silhouette-wise, he looks a fair bit like Graystripe, but their patterns make them decently distinct from each other.

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Ya know what these self-indulgent Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow posts need? Self-indulgent banner art, that’s what.

Spoilers for issue #4!

Let’s start this off right with CREATOR CREDITS. Issue 4 of Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow is titled “Restraint, Endurance, and Passion.” Written by Tom King, Art by Bilquis Evely, Colors by Matheus Lopes, Letters by Clayton Cowles, and Edited by Brittany Holzherr. (w/ Assist. Editor: Bixie Mathieu & Senior Editor Mike Cotton)

THE STORY: 

Right, so this? This issue? Best one yet.

Also the bleakest of the bunch thus far; even though we don’t always see the brutality of the space pirates that Kara and Ruthye are following, there’s...the suggestion of it. The aftermath. And how Kara responds to it.

Okay, getting a little ahead of myself. BASIC PLOT SUMMARY: Ruthye and Kara continue their pursuit of Krem, who has taken up with Barbond’s Brigands.

The Brigands basically just. Murder and terrorize people, for profit.

Each planet they visit brings new horrors, as well as people who need Supergirl’s help.

And help she does.

KARA-CTERIZATION:

I yell a lot about the art on this book, and have, in fact, openly admitted that I’m primarily here for Evely and Lopes.

Well, that wily son-of-a-gun King went and wrote some of the best ‘Super’ stuff I’ve ever read and dang it, dang it, now I gotta yell about the words too. XD

Specifically, I wanna yell (in a good way!) about some words that occur towards the very end of the book.

Kara and Ruthye have Seen Some Things; things like genocide and mass grave sites and horrible violence, and upon reaching a planet where peaceful monks were slaughtered, Kara’s had enough, and needs to leave because if she screams, she’ll destroy what little is left of the monks’ monastery.

Here’s the text in full, because my gosh. It’s so good:

“What I write next I write based on my observations in those long-ago days at the side of the greatest warrior in the history of this august reality we all call home. It is important to note that my assertions do not rely on anything Supergirl said. It was not a subject we ever discussed or even approached, but nonetheless I believe it to be as true as the turning of worlds. You see, what is not well understood about the daughter of Krypton is that her power was not one of action but one of restraint, endurance, and passion. She did not choose to fire a beam from her eyes, or have breath of ice, or run faster than a speeding bullet. Or any of her other well-documented miracles. No, she held back her heat vision to look you in the face. She warmed her breath to converse with you. She slowed herself to walk by your side. Ever moment of every day, she suppressed the forces churning inside of her. All of the energy of a dead world that strained against her many barriers, eternally demanded to be released. I believe this effort hurt her. I believe she lived her life in pain. But I reiterate again, for I think it important enough to repeat--These beliefs are based on my time at her side, watching her as she moved through strife and sorrow. If you were to have asked her, I have little doubt she would have claimed that such as assertion was absurd. She would say she felt fine and well and then she’d as you if you needed any help.”

A long chunk of words, I know (this comic is DENSE!) but like. This is it. This is one of the defining attributes of the Supers--all that raw power at their disposal and they choose to help people, to be kind, to suppress that power for the benefit and safety of others.

HNNNNNNNG.

Hope, Help, and Compassion for All.

Whole lotta folks claimed at the outset of this book that King did not understand Kara, that he was a bad fit. And that may be so, I suppose--there’s a whole other discussion about like. The violence and swearing and ‘does that belong in a Supergirl book?’ But the characterization? Getting that Kara and Clark are just good people? 

King gets it. He got it in Superman: Up in the Sky and he gets it here, in Woman of Tomorrow.

Other things King gets! Kara is stubborn! Kara is passionate! Kara is going to fix things, even if the effort of doing so hurts her, physically, emotionally, and mentally!

(Fuuuuuuun fact for the crowd saying that Woman of Tomorrow is vastly superior to the CW show: TV Kara is ALSO all of those things! King isn’t pulling this stuff out of thin air. It’s almost like...gosh. I don’t know! Both the show and Tom King are pulling from the character’s comic history, or something!!!! HOW NOVEL.) 

Like, seriously. There’s a lot of overlap. Stop pitting Karas against each other!

Anyways!

I promised art, so here is art!

Oh, right, forgot to mention, Kara literally THROWS HERSELF INTO THE SUN to express her grief and anger, so as to not cause that unnecessary destruction. She gives new meaning to the phrase: Set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm. 

More art yelling: GOTTDAMN, the way Evely draws Kara just colliding with the surface of the sun and then the way Kara’s hair like...becomes the flames...

I am FEELING FEELINGS. HOW DARE.

Also, props to King and Cowles; King for deciding to have that initial scream, Cowles for the way the letters burst forth from the point of impact on the sun, and then back to King who decided that it would just be...devastating silent screaming from Kara, for the remainder of the scene. 

Back to the characterization, I just wanted to highlight something I mentioned...earlier on, I think? In these posts? But haven’t brought up recently, and that is how this book has not once brought up Zor-El, and I think Superman only got a quick mention in issue 2.

Honestly, I think that’s gotta be some kind of record.

It’s so refreshing. Not because I think there should never be mentions of Clark, or anything--I love that boy--but because so much of modern Supergirl comic drama is mined from the same like, angsting over her place compared to Clark, or her crazy sometimes-a-supervillain dad. 

There is no Clark and Kara drama here, no manufactured friction, because it’s just. A cool Supergirl story! 

Gonna keep going, but let’s do it with some more...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTT!!!!

Once again, Mat Lopes is all over the dang place with his palettes, it’s marvelous.

Each new planet gives Evely the opportunity to go hog wild on the worldbuilding and design, and similarly! Each new locale is an opportunity for Lopes to set the tone with colors. Like, here, towards the beginning of the book, we’ve got a planet bathed in this warm, pale yellow/orange light. 

(Quick note: “Sure, yeah, I get it. We all have our duties. And it’s mine as a neighbor to do what I can to help you with yours. Please.” A+ Kara content. We love to see it. And then locating the remains of the alien’s daughter, so that they can go visit the grave site and have some emotional closure???? It’s just. So. Touching.)

Anyways, back to colors.

Like!!!! LOOK AT THAT JUMP. From the soft, almost pastoral feel of the delicate oranges and yellows to HARD GREEN, PINK, AND PURPLE. (Difficult colors to pull off in print, I might add.) 

(This is also an interesting scene, character-wise, because I think it helps re-contextualize some earlier stuff with Kara. Like, I’m mostly thinking that incident on the bus, where she was swearing at the passengers as the space dragon was about to destroy them. Here, we see Kara kind of...goad this alien woman into releasing her pent up emotions by yelling at her/getting her to fight, and you can clearly see at the end of it that Kara did not mean the things she said, because check this out:

She goes and gives her a hug once the woman is able to finally cry.

It’s not ‘Kara is being mean, Kara is swearing at her’, it’s, ‘Kara has an unorthodox solution to a problem, and she’s gonna FIX that problem, NO MATTER WHAT.’

Circling back to the bus thing--again, that could be an instance of ‘unorthodox approach to a weird situation that Kara is going to handle because lives are at stake.’)

But also, DIG THAT KIRBY KRACKLE, BAY-BEEEEE!

And a little Strange Adventures easter egg! The Pykkts! 

(I think those guys are unique to the Black Label series, rather than deep Adam Strange lore, but don’t quote me on that.)

Moving on to YET ANOTHER PALETTE, one I’ve dubbed, ‘Treasure Planet Purple/Grey’

Love Ruthye’s snoozing against the door, waiting for Kara.

Also, just as striking as the colors of the environment, are the colors used on Kara. 

If you compare this page with the previous one, Kara’s eyes are a paler shade of blue, and the red-rimmed look on her eyes here is not as intense as the red-rimmed look we saw back in issue one, when she was confronting Krem. 

All of which to say! There’s a pale, haunted quality to both the linework and the colors. Like. We know Kara has Seen Some Things. But she’s shoving all that stuff down to protect Ruthye, to save Krypto, and to stop these monsters, and you get all of that WITH COLORS AND LINES ON A PAGE.

I love it, I love it so much.

OTHER BOOKS WISH THEY HAD THIS LEVEL OF CHARACTER ACTING, I TELL YA! THEY WISH THEY HAD THIS BEAUTIFUL ALCHEMY OF INKER, COLORIST, AND WRITER WORKING IN SUCH TIGHT TANDEM!

Ahem. XD

Alright, last bit of art, lest I just. Post the whole issue in here. (Which I’m honestly always tempted to do but Strong Feelings about Piracy hold me back.)

JUST HECKIN’ LOOK AT THAT BLUE, MAN. JUST LOOK AT IT. S’BEAUTIFUL.

And more stunning character acting from Evely. Like. Bottom middle panel. The expression, the tilt of her head and the shadows on her eyes...

*insert silent flailing here*

Oh, also, KRYPTO LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVESSSS (for now). 

I’m never right about these things, so I’m glad the one time I’ve correctly read a thing is when it involves Krypto not, ya know. Being dead. XD

Also absolutely love that Kara’s instinct is to send Ruthye home to protect her--once more leaning into that whole, ‘I’m going to protect you, even at great cost to myself’, though of course we know that she can’t send her home, not here, not now, just halfway through our journey. 

ERRRRRRGH, so mad we’re not getting twelve issues of this! CURSE YOU, POOR SUPERGIRL TRADE SALES! CURSE YOOOOOOU!

That said, King’s pacing? Has been phenomenal. I feel like Strange Adventures and even Mr. Miracle kinda...I’m not gonna say dragged, that’s not quite right. But it is more build up, I guess. Takes a while to get to the payoff.

Here, I think King is pushing things steadily along as he doesn’t have the benefit of an additional four issues, so he has to get to the point, so to speak. Keeps everything moving.

SOME FINAL, MISC. STUFF:

I’ve sort of glossed over the darker stuff from this issue, and I just wanna note that like. This is a book that features a bad guy getting stoned (in the death sentence way, not the drug way) on panel. Like. I can’t recommend this to children.

I can’t even really recommend it to some other Supergirl fans, because I know that the King elements will be too off-putting. 

It never feels like the book is going too far, though. At least in like an...exploitative way? If that makes sense?

The violence is handled with discretion, I guess is what I’m trying to convey. This could very easily tip over into like, gross shock factor territory, if not handled well, but I think the creative team pulls it off.

...Still wouldn’t hand this book to kids, though. XD

As mentioned, we’re halfway through this series! Can’t wait to see where it goes--every time I think I have this book figured out, it surprises me. So, like. Bring on the Dinosaur planet! With no sunlight! I wanna see how Lopes handles THAT. XD

(But Oh, OooooOOooh, we gotta wait until NOVEMBER.)

(Hhhnnnnng!)

(Then again, maybe that’s good; we’ve got the TV show in the meantime, and then once it ends we can pick right up with new Supergirl content just a few weeks later.)

(...Aw. Made myself a little sad, thinking about the TV show coming to an end.)

:C

So as not to end on that sad note, here once again is tiny, smushed Kara:

Give ‘em the ol razzle dazzle.

[keyenuta]

PSU: Third Dorm Leader

Name: Morrigan Crowley

Voiced By: Maaya Sakamoto

Gender: Female

Age: 17

Birthday: May 21rst

Starsign: Gemini

Height: 5'11"(180cm)

Eye Color: yellow

Hair Color: Raven black

Homeland: ???

Family: Dire Crowley(Father)

Professional Status:

Dorm: Gaelicia

School Year: Second

Class: 2-C

Occupation: Student, Dorm Leader

Club: Gladiator

Best Subject: Ancient Incantations

Fun Facts:

Dominant Hand: Left

Favorite Food: Black Licorice

Least Favorite Food: Dad's cooking

Dislikes: Being left behind, people who insult her or her father, being underestimated or slighted

Hobbies: Wrestling

Talents: Impersonations

Morrigan Crowley, the blunt and calculative Dorm leader of Gaelicia is a flirtatious and precise student who despite her frightful reputation can be your greatest ally or enemy, just don't cross her or else you may find yourself cursed the rest of your life.

Appearance:

Morrigan is a towering teenage girl with skin as pale as snow, with silky wavy hair as black as a raven. Her hair is rather messy and is usually seen unbrushed. But despite the bangs and hair that casts a shadow on her angular face, her yellow eyes still glow from the darkness. Bringing a chilling sensation with just with a glance, as if she already knows your fate before you do.

And as a side note, wrapped around the crown of her head is a purple headband with golden clasps which bound it. Keeping back some of her hair from completely covering her face. As tucked within them are three black feathers.

Morrigan often has an easy going confident expression on her face. As if everything is a game to her no matter the situation or predicament she finds herself in. Like she knows and controls what will happen.

Morrigan is a very tall, lithe, and curvaceous girl with toned muscles from her love of fighting and general club activities.

Across her pake skin she's usually seen wearing dark purple face paint that arcs all around her face, down her neck and presumably her arms as well.

And usually in her hand or at her back, she wields a black razor sharp spear with purple hues across its glass like appearance. It's the form her stave took when she became dorm leader.

Personality:

Morrigan is a very whimsical and calculative person, often acting very playful or flirtatious with others but just as well, she can be very shrewd. Often hiding meanings behind words, or alluding to something she will do or has planned later on.

But despite her easy going demeanor, she can be rather fight loving, heck even when she was young she had a love of fighting or challenging people. It really gets her blood pumping and her mind snapping to life.

She is a rather cocky person, often seeing many things as a game or simple to be completed. But some flaws that have always been with her have been one, her vengeful nature, if she feels slighted, betrayed, insulted etc, she will often seek revenge or payback with deadly efficiency. Sometimes even warning or messing with people by foreshadowing what she will do.

And for her second flaw, she will hold a grudge for years on end, she will remember every insult, trick, jab, and disrespect you've given to her. And she will plan accordingly. Just thinking and plotting on a fitting punishment.

It's these jagged parts of her personality as well as how menacing and powerful her magic feels that usually keeps people away from her despite how kind and helpful of a person she can be. People often see her as a bad omen without ever really going to meet her themselves. So she often takes it up herself, acting flirtatious, instigating meet ups and slowly crafting friendships. But these sre often few and far between.

And as a fun fact, she took her father's quite to heart a while ago, and she can be a very helpful person, often trying to twist luck in someone's fortune if they ask or need it.

Summary: calculative, vengeful, playful, and helpful

Backstory:

Morrigan in her early days wasn't loved by well anyone, not even her own biological parents loved her. They saw her as a bad luck charm, a curse, and especially when her magic really began forming and leaking out. The weight and chill of it made morrigan seem like death in carnate. So one day, on a trip into town, Morrigan's parents abandoned her. Leaving her alone with no one to help or protect her. So she did the best she could, learning to fight, both with fists and magic alike as no one cared for her.

For the longest time she clawed and fought for life at every day, only being comforted by the crows who guided her. And ultimately she found the biggest crow of all. Dire Crowley, who despite towering over her, age trued to suplex the headmaster and steal his stuff. But thankfully, Crowley calmed the child and adopted her, taking her in as hus daughter. She certainly looked close enough after all, no one would question him too much.

And as Crowley's daughter Morrigan after warming up to the old crow often hanged around him as much as possible. Especially as a child with her getting an even better handling of her magic as she would often shapeshift into a crow and hang out with her papa bird as she calls him. Crowley like you can guess flooded morrigan with love and affection and spent as much time as he could with her as he tried to balance his headmaster duties. But often time due to it, he was at times too busy for certain celebrations and events in her life sadly.

All in all Morrigan had a good childhood after Crowley found her. But over the years thabks to her experiences at a young age Morrigan grew up too fast for her peers. She could at times act the part, but when she wasn't able to this often left her alone. Or if not that, other kids interacted with her in a wary manner. Plus her unnerving magic didn't help matters either. People often said she felt like death, and heck due to it people often messed with her and teased her, and especially so with how her last name and her father had a reputation. People teased her saying her father was horrible at his job, at how he was probably a terrible father too. How could one man possibly lead students into a 100 year losing streak etc. So in a way to kash back out, she developed a vengeful part of herself, often insulting back or making harsh punishments fir ger peers if they disrespected her or her father.

Though I will say, eventually she did gain a best friend/rival/enemy. Both arent even sure after all this time. To make a long story short Morrigan found a friend in Cú Chulainn, who also became her vice dorm head at PSU.

Unique Magic: Weaver of Fate

Anything morrigan touches, she can cast a cure or blessing upon that object or person. Weaving it with large boosts of good fortune or bad fortune. As an example, for bad fortune say she touches a piece of sand, with bad fortune the spot she touched now has a mile deep hole in it when someone walks where she last touched. Now for good fortune, if someone is touched by her for good fortune, if they walk ib the beach they'll be very likely to find potentially a hundred madool or something else of value.

This was born from Morrigan thinking if her past and no longer wanting to be unable to guide her life or fate. She wanted to be the weaver of her own fate no matter what.

Trivia:

She is based on The Morrigan from Celtic mythology

She has gained Crowley's habit of saying things like "for I am so kind/gracious" when she does things for people

This is more a headcannon I have but Crowley's mask is very prescious to him because morrigan made it for him and with the beginning of her unique magic appearing, she blessed it with good luck. And even beyond that addition Crowley always wears the mask as much as he can

Morrigan, can't handle the sun that well for long stretches of time. She will literally call it her age old enemy and give it the bird, sometimes literally if she feels like it

She is the president of the gladiator club, people used to say oh you used your unique magic to win, but morrigan not having any of that, while also taking a page out of her vice heads book, challenged the whole team to a battle one on one. No magic or help.

Depending on how she's feeling in the morning and what she wants to do today she switches her face paints design and color depending on her mood

Morrigan went to PSU mostly because she felt like it was time for her to try leaving the nest so to speak. Though she had to comfort her papa a lot with how emotional he got from pride. His little chick was growing up so fast.

Though when able Morrigan still visits her papa bird, and always as a crow

[aesthyuckic]

AVENOIR | l.dh - QUINDECIM

(gif not mine - credits to rightful owner)

Genre: High School AU (at beginning) ; Tarot Reader!Witch!Hyuck

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: (bold if in use) slow but with a purpose, belief contradictions (???), mentions of r*pe, blood, swearing, violence, mentions of abuse

Pairings: Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) x Reader (F)

DEATH: end of a cycle, beginnings, change, metamorphosis

The summer months seemed to go as fast as they came. Autumn was approaching rapidly but wasn’t quite there yet. It was the awkward time when it was unbearable hot out while the leaves were starting to fall and turn different shades to show their end for the year. It was exciting to them in all honesty despite the death of the nature around. Autumn arriving meant many things but most importantly it meant the end of them travel the country until next spring.

It also meant Cosimia’s birthday. She’d be turning sixteen later in October, not far off from the adulthood she thought she’d never come to reach. She thought it was the perfect age for some reason... Perhaps it was because she was young enough to continue being irresponsible without consequences like she wanted, but also because she was old enough to be taken seriously by the adults she criticized, privately, too.

She realized now, looking back on her passing childhood years how fast they had actually gone by. Some of them were even very blurry to her when she tried to recall it and realized how much she had taken away in those years as well... She hated it all. The great chunk of her childhood taken from her and especially the fact that adulthood was already sneaking up on her so stealthily...

“Hey, Haechan...” She called you him as she continued to stare out the window at the dull gray that filled the sky that morning as the trailer bumped on the highway. “Did you feel any different when you turned sixteen? Like it was a big deal or anything?”

“I mean, sorta.” He shrugged. “I rushed out to get my license so I got to drive legally for once and it does feel like a shift in perspective I guess. I think you start to realize how the slow years have passed and everything seems to have gone by faster despite how slow it might seem in the moment.”

“Hmm,” She hummed as her chin rested atop her hands.

“Why do you ask?”

“I feel like... something big is suppose to happen? I don’t know when though...”

“Can’t you see if something big is coming, you know, with your ability?”

“Not like that... Remember? One to two things at a time and they’re often vague for me...”

“Can you tell me what you see right now?”

“It’s more of feeling right now... Mostly of immense devastation and the feeling of fresh tears running down your cheeks, that’s it. Me crying is not that uncommon but that feeling, I don’t know.”

“Do you think it’s possible because we’re getting closer to Oregon?”

She turned her head around to look at him and he felt like he shouldn’t have brought it up the way she looked at him with doe like eyes. It’s true, the place she was so desperately looking forward too at the beginning when Johnny had found them was coming up soon. It wasn’t even a day away from them now... She has kind of forgotten about since she’d been so focused on Donghyuck lately. She missed her mother, even if the memory of her was blurry and she knew she was gone physically... There was nothing should could do about that but at least she felt the lingering of her soul around her sometimes...

“Maybe I don’t need to see her deathbed anymore.” She sighed. “I don’t feel like I do, maybe, I’m finally moving on from it.”

“You can always change your mind.” He mumbled as he rubbed her shoulder, lightly.

He noticed lately that the girl didn’t flinch at all anymore whenever he touched her. He could initiate it without a problem now too. As her trust with in him, grew he noticed how clingy she could actually be... There was no longer any room between them when they shared the bed. In fact, he’d often find her arm draped across his torso in the morning. He was still afraid for some reason so it was always feather-like, kind of sweaty and burned due to warmth but she didn’t seem to mind. Though, she still flinched whenever it came to any of the other guys they hung out with during their free time.

Of course there were times she begin to get overwhelmed or tremble and brushed the boy’s hand off of her. He could feel it when the breath hitches in her throat this time. She grabbed it gently, but quickly to take it off her shoulder. She didn’t let go of it, rather she just held it while she continued to look out the window in silence. He just looked at her as rubbed her thumb across his skin. She never looked back at him, just sat there while he stood, hand in hand.

The following morning, Donghyuck was the first one up which was not common. The birds chirped outside and the air ice cold when it hit his skin. He noticed their trailer was no longer moving which must have meant they’ve reached Oregon already. He looked out the window and was able to see the sky shined yellow at the horizon which faded to pink up into purple as the sun rises to push the night elsewhere.

He got out of bed, carefully not to wake up the sleeping girl. He got ready quietly too as she still slept peacefully and he snuck outside without her. He noticed a lot of their co-workers were also up and walking around. He assumed they were already setting up the booths and such for the day ahead of them. It was his turn to return the favor from awhile ago...

He grabbed a quick breakfast before he went to find Lucas who gladly helped cover for Cosimia in setting up their booth that morning. He had become distant friends with the other at that point but he felt rather awkward around him because of how rude and hostile he was at first. The taller had always been the friendly type and he understood where the boy slightly younger than him was coming from so he didn’t care all that much. It didn’t take long to set up either.

Donghyuck, oddly full of enegry that morning despite how little he slept decided to help a few other people with that tents that morning. He realized how easily the time got away from him as the sun began to rise higher and higher in the sky. He went to go grab some breakfast for Cosimia before he returned back to their trailer. Knowing her schedule by heart allowed him to sneak back in right before she woke up and make it seem like he never really left either.

She came out of their room only ten minutes after he walked in. She immediately noticed the plate of food on the counter which was visibly still very warm. She looked to find him on the floor with one of his books and a piece of toast in his mouth as he read. She also came to notice the slightly dark circles under his eyes.

“You didn’t sleep much, did you?” She asked.

“I feel great.” He responded as he munched away on his toast. “So, what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is you let me sleep and you had to set up the tent all by yourself.” She huffed.

“Lucas eagerly covered for you, okay? I was return the favor from months ago too... Plus you needed the sleep.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know... I just felt it? Oh, can’t you let me be nice without questioning about it?! And where’s my ‘thank you’ too?!”

She rolled her eyes at what he said but she admitted that a ‘thank you’ was overdue. His face was all red and scrunched up as he tried to focus on the words on the page. She came around to the other side and stood next to him. He didn’t look up at her out of anger. To be honest, her face was red and hot as well in the silence with no acknowledgment. She bent down, putting her hand under his chin as she planted a kiss on his cheek which immediately sent all the red to his cheek.

“Thank you,” She muttered as she let go of him rather, roughly. “But next time wake me up please.”

She didn’t look back at him as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed the breakfast and even the cup of coffee he got for her of the counter. She left to go to the back again rather quietly as she also had a bright red face and slightly trembled. Once he saw her leave from view it took him every fiber of his being not to scream out of the dopamine rush. He had no idea that was about but he did like it, maybe a little too much since he wished she’d do it again.

He was able to calm himself down from the high just a little to get up to go tell the girl something, “I’m gonna go help in the big tent so you know where I am if you happen to need me. Enjoy your breakfast! I’ll see you later!”

He smiled at her, it somehow more big than it usually was and his tone more cheerful when he spoke to her. She nodded at him before he left. A smile appearing on her face after he was gone, a wave of relief washing over her as she settled down too. She did as he said, something very rare and took all the time in the world getting ready for the day ahead of them.

Donghyuck walked outside their trailer, refreshed by the cool air against his buting cheeks as he was finally able to breath properly. He didn’t even look around before he started to jump around like an idiot whispering a few words of encouragement to himself. He knows it was only a kiss on the cheek, but for her, that’s a big deal... He had finally gotten rid of the overexpelling enegry from his body after that but of course not without being caught.

“What was that?” A girl named Lia laughed hysterically when she saw him.

“Yeah, you’re never that energetic around us.” Jeno added.

“Oh, it was nothing,” He shrugged with a smile. “Just an adrenaline rush or something...”

“Whatever you say.” Lia hummed, knowing it was a lie somehow.

They all went to the big tent that was not too far from the trailers. In all the months they had been working there, he’d never been there for anything for some odd reason. He was kind of in awe of how big it was and how glorious it seemed. He was assigned to help with stage check by Johnny. The elder handing him the clipboard made him feel special in all honesty. It definitely felt like a change and everything had seemed different to him, but in a good way that day... He ran off rather happily to go the job he was assigned while big, sparkly eyes full of excitement.

Cosimia had just gotten out of the shower, already dressed in her signature flowy, long skirts and her overall dark clothing back at the trailer. She went straight to making lunches for her and Donghyuck that day. She had already made sandwiches and was cutting the fruit while she hummed, contently. Though, her mood shattered when she felt an overwhelming feeling of dread overcome her in that moment.

The lighting was no longer warm and inviting yellow but a cold and dark gray that seemed to have clouded her judgement. She only had negative thoughts before she completely paused for a moment. She came back with a small gasp and tiny tears already coming down her cheeks. She ran out of the trailer, her adrenaline through the roof as she still had the knife she was cutting with in her hand. She ran unlike she had in the past, this time it was frantic and she felt weightless due to her speed.

It already seem too late when she heard the gunshot go off... The crows around flew off while squawking due to the noise that felt like it hurt her right in the chest. She could hear people screaming from inside the big tent and scrambling around She stopped in her tracks at the sound, gripping the knife tighter. She just wanted to fall down and cry right then. She might have not been there to physically see it but she saw it.

She saw Donghyuck happily smiling as he walked on stage. He stood in the middle of it all, unsuspecting as the person and all black with a ski mask to cover their face slipped in, unnoticed. She saw the way the amethyst necklace he always wore because she made for him shattered into pieces once the bullet had come in contact with it only to pierce right through it, knocking him down, all bloody.

She trudged further, in tears and her knuckles turn white at the grip she had on the knife. A small figure emerged from the tent, in all black and with a gun in hand. They took in their mask, their face glistening with sweat as they took took in deep, heavy breaths. He was stupid, thinking no one else was around but rather in the tent paying attention to the boy he hated so much that he just shot.

“Hey, Ten!” She yelled, impulsive out of anger and sadness.

“I will shot you!” He threatened as he held up the gun in her direction while he shook.

“Like you did Haechan?” She asked, taking steady steps further to him as she seemed to cry harder. “Go ahead, what’s it going to do? Land you more time in jail?”

“How do you know what I did?”

“How the fuck you think, dumbass?!”

She continued to walk further toward him. She held her high to appear fearless. She just felt so heavy in her heart right then... He looked to be frightened by how she came closer with only grieve in her eyes. He had failed the notice the knife at her side that was almost hidden by the skirt she wore. He tried to adjust his gun but failed to do so because of hard he was shaking. He couldn’t shot her if he wanted the guilty was already eating him up and he had a terrible shot.

She came to stand in front of him finally. His gun was aimed at her torso and she quickly grabbed his wrist to move the aim up to her head. The mouth of the gun kissing her forehead. He looked more terrified by this action.

“He never did anything wrong...” She cried, her voice cracking. “I’m the one who was the cause of all the things that upset you... So why did you blame him and not me? Why did you have to hurt him? What good is it?”

He couldn’t find the words to respond to her questions as he looked into teary eyes that sparkled with the most hurt he’d seen from someone... She noticed he was focused on her now more than anything which gave her the opportunity to knock the gun out of his hand and drive the knife she held into his abdomen.

She backed away from him. His hand going toward the handle where her hand had just been. It wouldn’t be wise to take it out. He backed away, the black clothing he wore clearly becoming soaked from his own blood. His hands came to rest near the knife in his abdomen.

“Y-you bitch! You tricked me! You stabbed me!” He gritted before he fainted, the blood still coming out in pools.

She realized what she had done, something that could’ve been avoid, something she was against and something that was purely revenge driven in her mind... With her vision blurry with her own tears, she looked down at her hands seeing they were covered in Ten’s blood from when she did it. Her eyes widened and she started hyperventilating. Her mind was racing to every place it could, she couldn’t see anything that was to come which made her even more panicked. She no idea as to what was next.

Her ears started to ring and that’s all she could hear. Her vision remained blurry even when she wiped away her tears with her sleeves. She was focused on the blood that coated her hands and soon it was the only thing she was able to see. Darkness engulfed her, taking her away from the horrible image in front of her, on her and possibly within her...

[diamondcamefromhell]

Dandelion

Jaskier x Female!Reader

[[reupload since tags didnt work the first time :))))))))) ]]

like the most amazing request from @rosasteri

Request/Summary: can i request a thing like Geralt and his friends stopped in some village and while the witcher was hunting some monster reader and jaskier spent their time in the field, like played catch-up and braided the flowers in hair, and so on. fluffy fluff you know…

Warnings: None

Word count: 2,391

A/N: i do have a lot of requests to get to, and i promise i will (as well as Timeless Love) but when i read this one i was SO INPSIRED i couldnt wait to write it [but then i spent 8 hours today playing witcher 3, but we dont talk about that] but now i did it and i did drift a bit from the request, so i hope Rosasteri doesnt mind it too much and i hope you all like it

any and all feedback is appreciated! (can be left anonymously on my ask page)

Velen. Such a boring place to call my home. Nothing but swamps and forests, filled with monsters and ghouls. Wolves and wild dogs. Beautiful in the summer and spring, I can’t deny that, but oh so very boring. Especially if you’re a young woman, warned against exploring the wild. Always seeming so fragile.

One day things did change, when the witcher went by. He was with a bard, Jaskier, and while Geralt handled some contracts and helped some locals, Jask and I spend some time together. We had to part ways, life just get’s in a way. But they promised they would visit again, well, Jaskier promised. But Geralt didn’t disagree, so I count that as a win.

I wish I could have went with them. Leave Velen behind, see what the world has to offer. But I had a little sister, and no parents. Someone had to take care of her, and tagging along with a witcher wouldn’t exactly work out in our favour.

So now I spent my days wondering the streets, waiting. I’d go for walks in the nearby fields and rivers, almost looking to see if some monster appears, maybe  a griffin or something, anything, so we could call upon witcher yet again.

And it happened. To my great surprise, a nearby village has been slaughtered and taken over by some monsters. Nobody knows what they are, apart from that their screams reach our town. We scrambled coin together, putting up a contract, hoping someone would answer it, before we end up being a ghost town.

I was in a tavern, watching Lily, my sister, as she ran around with some other kids. The mood was grim amongst adults, but I was glad our younglings didn’t seem to be affected by it. The door flew open as I saw Geralt walk in, he wasn’t alone, some other witcher was with him. Two pairs of yellow eyes pierced through us, as the tavern went silent.

“Geralt!” Lily yells rushing to witcher, who extends his arms, gently hugging my sister. I spring to my feet too.

“Lily.” He says, as our eyes meet. I give him a wave, a smile painting across my face. “Y/N.”

“Geralt!” I cheerfully say, as a familiar figure appears behind him.

“If you two allowed me to squeeze through,” I hear a muffled voice, as Jaskier makes it through, “I would appreciate it.”

“Jask!” I squeal, rushing to the bard, as he just in time extends his arms. We hug tightly and I nearly choke up, but manage to control myself as I feel Lily join in our hug too.

“Hear there was trouble?” The other witcher speaks, and I pull away from Jaskier, still staying close to him. I cross my arms, as the taverners just stare at us.

“Yes.” I say, eventually. “In nearby town, some monster slaughtered everyone. We heard a whole lot of screams, thought it was Nilfgaardians harassing them, but well… the next day the people were gone. But the screams stayed, horrific, not human screams.”

“Hm.” Geralt grunts. “I need more information.”

I provide all the information I can give to him. I learn that the other witcher is Vesemir, an old friend of Geralt’s, they met on a road, both coming our way. They now said they were glad they ran into each other, as from what they gathered, from me and other folk, it seemed like the issue were Noonwraiths.

Spirits, of sorts. Mostly showing up when the sun was highest in the sky. In this world because they are attached so some item. I didn’t really understand, but the witchers didn’t seem too concerned about handling them, so I didn’t worry.

I was just glad Jaskier was entertaining the kids while this conversation was going on. They were all dancing and signing to some of his songs. What a sight to see.

Geralt and Vesermir excused themselves to go gather some herbs they needed, and look around the lost village, to see what they can find. The mood immediately seemed to pick up, our cry for help was answered.

And I was beaming my personal one was too.

I go to Jaskier, smiling. He stops his lute, looking at me. His eyes seem to shine.

“You haven’t changed at all.” I say, looking him up and down. He’s wearing red pants and red jacket, looking like they’re ever so slightly scaled, with pecks of gold all over them, and a white undershirt.

“Neither have you, Y/N.” He smirks at me. “Looking as lovely as the day I first met you.”

“We need to catch up!” I say, eager to get away from all the ears that were listening in. I look at Lily, who while still young, is far smarter than other kids.

“I’ll stay here.” She says, bravely and I could hug her to death right now. I make a mental note to treat her to something nice. “It’s too warm out.”

“We’ll be back soon.” Jaskier reassures her before I can, and takes my hand in his leading me out.

The weather is prefect, but I am not sure if it seems like this because Jask is here. The breeze is cooling us off from the hot summer sun. The nature is all green and skies clear. I take the lead now, going behind the tavern and around some houses, until we reach the field.

Further away from my village, and the lost one too. Deeper into the prettier parts of Velen. I glance back, as his outfit seems to sparkle in the sunlight. His lute rest easy by his side, as his gaze is glued to me. I wink, taking us even further.

We sit down by some cornflowers, dandelions and chamomiles. The breeze plays with my hair, so I put it behind my ear, feeling his warm hand in mine, sucking in the sun.

“I’ve missed you.” I say, ending the comfortable silence. “So very much.”

“As have I.” He squeezes my hand and drops to the ground. “So much that I thought Geralt will actually punch me off the cliff if I mentioned you one more time. He told me I should have stayed.”

“No way.” I say, wishing he did stay. But I knew he had his… thing, to stay with Geralt. Spread the word of their great adventures. “Velen is too boring. We have pretty sights like this, but the swamps and the wild dogs really don’t put you in the creative mood.”

“It’s not the place, Y/N. Plenty of great ballads could come from this.” I roll my eyes, looking down at him, as he sticks his tongue out.

“Then what is it?” I ask.

“There are bigger things to do.” I stare ahead now, into the river that is flowing nearby. It looks so blue and inviting. Until the drowned get you.

“Bigger stories to tell.” I agree, and Jask sits up. He picks up a chamomile, twisting it in his hands.

“How have you been? How’s Lily?” I shrug, as he pokes me.

“Don’t be moody.” He teases as I finally let out a giggle. He in response, chuckles too.

“Good. Lily has been missing you, singing some songs you taught her all the time. She now wants to grow up and be a bard. Just like her Jasky.” I now gently nudge the bard, who blushes at my words. “I’ve been good, glad to see her so happy. The village was better too, after Geralt helped us last time.”

“Lily the bard does sound amazing.” I chuckle, looking at him. He still is twisting the chamomile in his hands. In the sun his brown hair shine, looking so much lighter.

“So what great adventures did you two get up to?” I say, snapping out of the trance, taking my gaze from the man, to the flower fields. I pick up some dandelions, copying Jask and twisting them around.

“You’ll hear about them in songs.” I look at him, as he winks, sliding closer, draping his hands around me and taking us both to the ground.

We both laugh, but as the breeze picks up, we silence. I stay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, as the sun kisses us. This seems so perfect – too perfect. I don’t want it to end, not now, not ever. I hear him start to hum, and I tell myself to relax.

Enjoy it while you can.

I get so comfortable I could fall asleep. But I don’t want to spend my precious time with him unconscious. I sit up, pulling him with me, as his hands are still on my waist.

“Here.” I pick up a dandelion again, placing it in his hair.

“Oh, c’mon Y/N.” He takes it out, pretending to be offended, as I grin. “I at least deserve a crown!”

“As you wish, Your Highness,” I mock bow to him, picking up more dandelions, braiding them. Moments later I have very unstable flower crown. I spring to my feet. “Let me crown you, Lord Jaskier.”

“If you wish to do so.” He says, changing his position so now he is kneeling before me.

“I proudly crown you, Julian Alfred Pankratz,” I say his full official name, and he can barely hide his smile now, but he manages, “to be our great ruler and leader. To Lord Jaskier!”

I land the crown on his head, while also cheering, pretending to be a crowd. As expected, it falls apart almost immediately as we both begin laughing. He leans on my legs as I ruffle his hair.

“I guess I don’t deserve a crown.” He says, pulling away. I see one dandelion still stuck in his, now mess of a hair. I leave it be.

“Bards don’t wear crowns.” I say, extending my arm to him. The river keeps catching my eyes, and I want us to walk there. He stands up, intertwining our fingers together.

“Ladies like you should.” He smirks, putting one chamomile in my hair.

We make our way to the river, as I grow cautious. But even the drowned seemed to have left, allowing us to have some peace. I take my boots off, and Jaskier follows, as we step into the stream. It isn’t too powerful, so we can handle it just fine.

The water is cold but pleasing. The bard puts his lute down, and takes his jacket off,  going a bit deeper, dragging me with him. We are up to our knees as he gives me a playful smile, and before I know a wave of water hits my face.

I am struck in shock, as I let out a laugh, attacking again. Our giggles echo, as we soon are both drenched. His dandelion, however, managed to survive. My hand reaches for my chamomile, and I find it safe too, stuck behind my ear. He hugs me, as his warm breath lands on my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

“The water is cold.” He breathes out as I giggle.

“Yeah, I noticed.” We pull away, looking at each other, as water drips down our hair.

He begins leaning in, for what I know would be the best kiss I have ever had. One for the books really. But I can’t pass this chance. So I push him back, as he falls into the water. The look on his face screams betrayal, and now I can’t stop laughing.

He grins, rushing towards me, as he pushes me forward, landing us both underwater. I open my eyes, holding my breath to see him smiling, still holding us both under. He leans in now, not allowing me escape, landing a kiss on my lips.

Then he pulls us both to the surface. I lean on his shoulder, taking deep breaths.

“I guess if I had to pick a way to die,” I tease, as I feel his body shake from giggles, “it would be to drown while the great Jaskier kisses me.”

“Couldn’t resist.” I roll my eyes, knowing he won’t see it. I take a step back, going to the land, as he follows. “You didn’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.” I immediately argue, flushing red. Jaskier giggles, poking my cheek.

“I know you loved it.” I turn away, fanning my face with my hands as his laugh echoes.

“Shut up.” I finally say, taking shoes in hand and walking ahead. He soon scrambles his things and catches up. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I know.” He answers my silent words, stopping in his tracks. I turn around, as the water drips off him, shining in the sun. Now this is a sight to see. I feel heat rushing back to my cheeks, but I can’t look away. “If it helps I’ll miss you too.”

“Sure.” I say, blinking back the tears. I remind myself to again, enjoy it while it lasts. “Jaskier, come here.”

“Yeah?” He asks, and when he is right next to me, I put my hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll race you to the bridge,” I wink, nudging him back, springing ahead.

I hear him shout that its not fair, as I laugh and tears of joy mixed with sadness manage to escape my eyes, mixing in with the river water, soon drying off as the sun continues to beam at us. I stop at a bridge, as Jaskier catches up to me.

Not wasting any moment, I turn at my feet. I bravely go in front of him, pulling him in for a kiss. I step back sooner than I’d want, smiling.

“You lose.” I smirk, as he stares me in the eyes.

“I think I win.” He finally says, winking. I intertwine our fingers now, taking us back towards the tavern.

“We need to go back to Lily.” I say, as the breeze dries us off. Some townspeople do give us weird looks, as we leave a trial of water behind. Before we enter inside, he stops me.

“I promise to visit you more often.” He says, and I believe his words. I put them in my heart, locking them safe, for those moments when I feel most alone.

“Next time, try to win too.” I wink, opening the door.

As we walk in, laughing, the screams from the lost village silence too.

[sometimestxt]

Everyday

Fandom: SPY x FAMILY Characters / Pairings: Twilight (Loid), Yor, Anya / some Twilight x Yor Summary: The Forgers are the perfect fake family with perfectly fake feelings; flowers, sunset watching, and bedtime stories are to be expected, of course.

Word Count: 1,653 Read on ao3.

-

“Here, Yor, I got these for you.” Loid unceremoniously holds out a bouquet of flowers towards the woman in question. He shuts the front door behind himself so quietly it doesn’t make a sound.

Yor points a finger at herself. “For me?”

“I stopped by the florist on my way home—some of the neighbours were talking about us again—I believe this should quiet them down for the time being,” he elaborates. “They said it was ‘quite delightful’ when they saw me walking by with this in hand.”

“Well, they are lovely.”

Loid nods his head once in agreement, passing the flowers over to Yor. Following that, they head into the kitchen together. Anya sits at the dining table, her head buried in the latest volume of Spy Wars.

Her attention turns towards the sound of the entering footsteps and her eyes light up at the sight of Loid. “Papa!” she exclaims.

“What are those?” she asks next, pointing at the bouquet in Yor’s hands.

“Loid bought some flowers,” she answers with a smile.

Anya turns towards Loid with an expectant look on her face. “Did Papa get anything for me?”

“I’ve already gotten you enough things,” he reprimands.

“Maybe next time,” Yor intervenes. “Don’t you think these look nice, Anya?”

The young girl mumbles a few incoherent words in response.

Yor holds up the bouquet in her hands, observing it more closely. “Oh, there are lilies of the valley here… snapdragons too.”

She doesn’t see the way Loid’s posture straightens at those words. He swiftly inquires, “Are you familiar with floriography? The language of flowers.”

She blinks, gaze moving towards her fake-husband, then back to the bouquet. Her expression turns sheepish.

“I know of it, but I get a lot of the meanings mixed up. Oh, maybe I should understand it better, all things considered. And even you’re familiar with it…,“ she trails off.

Flowers aren’t necessarily her forte, but she does know a thing or two about thorns. And poison. Still, she probably shouldn’t say.

“No, it’s quite outdated. I don’t think many women these days understand it that well besides the most common flowers, such as red roses,” he reassures. “I’m not that knowledgeable of it either; I was actually wondering if you were. I’d only taken the florist’s recommendation for this.”

Anya stares at Loid, her eyes narrowed.

“Well, it looks beautiful,” Yor compliments. “We should put it in a vase.”

“Of course; I can do it,” he says, taking the flowers back from Yor. The kitchen becomes quiet once more as Loid busies himself with the bouquet and Anya turns her attention back to Spy Wars.

“Ouch,” Loid mutters suddenly, “pierced myself with a thorn.”

“Are you all right?” Yor asks immediately, concern lacing her voice.

“I’m fine; I’ve been hurt by much worse before,” he says wryly. “It’s barely a prick.”

Anya immediately jolts up and stares at Loid, her eyes wide. His focus stays on the flowers. The girl shakes it off before eventually asking, “Thorns?”

“Some flowers have thorns on them. They’re little prickly things. They hurt a bit when you touch them,” Yor explains. “Pretty things like flowers can be a bit dangerous sometimes.”

“Mama is pretty,” Anya says pointedly.

“Oh, well, this and that—they’re, uh, kind of different.” She chuckles then, a nervous hint to her laughter. “It’s not like I’m, uh—”

“Done.” Loid sets his finished work on the tabletop, interrupting Yor’s babbling. Anya seems to have lost interest, her eyes once again glued to the pages of spy shenanigans set in front of her.

Yor clears her throat then, gaze turning to the vase. The flowers are lined neatly. “Thank you, Loid.”

Daisies and daffodils make up most of the arrangement, she notices. A pure white. It’s accented with a few yellow roses and a handful of carnations, light red in colour. The lilies of the valley and snapdragons fill the rest, bringing it all together.

If she remembers correctly—

Her lips form into a small smile.

“Thank you for thinking of me, Loid, thorns and all,” she says softly, so quietly that only a trained ear can properly hear.

“It’s only natural for a husband to buy flowers for his wife,” he replies simply.

“Still,” she beams, “you’re very thoughtful.”

He turns his face away from her. “Think nothing of it.”

New beginnings, admiration, and happiness.

How sweet.

-

Twilight carries Anya in his arms as he strolls down the cobblestone path of the city. Yor walks next to him, diligently keeping up a perfect pace.

They look like the picturesque family, as they should.

The perfect fake family with perfectly fake feelings.

In his arms, he feels the steady rise and fall of Anya’s chest. She’s already fallen asleep. It’s been a long day after all, keeping up this farce. The sky is fading from a bright blue into a deep orange hue.

“Ah, the sun is setting,” Yor points out, her voice soft. “Twilight, right?”

He blinks. His face is neutral, doesn’t even move a single millimetre at her remark—he’s schooled himself in deceit, after all—but what if, what if. He gazes across the horizon and sees the shadows of buildings, homes, everything, silhouetted by the setting sun.

His mind runs at a hundred miles per minute; his backstory is perfect, Anya hasn’t let anything slip, his forged documents are infallible, and he’s a master of disguise. He hasn’t raised any suspicions with her, he concludes.

“Yes, twilight,” he eventually echoes.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she continues. “It’s always so lovely to see the sky painted in such warm colours. Twilight might be my favourite time of the day, I think.”

She says it so easily.

“It signals the end,” he comments. “Of the day.”

It’s elusive, not quite there. There for a moment, then gone in the blink of an eye, disappearing into the night sky. Something out of reach.

“You almost say it like it’s a bad thing,” she observes.

He shrugs his shoulders lightly, making sure not to wake Anya. “Some of my patients don’t do so well in the dark, with twilight—the transitionary period. The darkness in particular can be a pain point, especially the unknown that it brings. It’s not uncommon.”

“Oh, I see.” Her eyes turn back to the horizon. “That’s too bad. It really is beautiful. I think the dark… is also comforting. I’m more comfortable in the dark.”

He raises an eyebrow in response.

“Not to be weird or anything!” she exclaims. “And, uh, even though it’s the end of the day… I do think twilight is quiet, and… warm.”

He almost laughs at the thought, but he can tell from her body language and from the inflection in her voice that she is being completely earnest.

“And I think,” she continues, turning to face him once again, “that this is the perfect way to end the fun day we had, Loid.”

His mouth suddenly feels dry and Anya stirs in his arms.

Twilight’s gaze moves from the little girl sleeping peacefully against his chest, to the woman walking by his side.

Right.

The perfect fake family with perfectly fake feelings.

-

Papa is a liar. He lies all the time. He lies about his work, he lies about her, he lies about flowers, he lies about everything.

Mama is a liar too. She lies—bad. Mama is not a good liar, but she still lies anyway.

Anya is also a liar. Anya has to lie, because if she doesn’t, maybe Papa and Mama will stop lying too. And when they stop lying, they won’t need her anymore, and she doesn’t want to be just another number again.

She’s heard enough of Papa’s lies and truths to know.

So Anya will lie and she’ll try her best at school and she’ll be friends with snotty little boys for world peace, but mostly for her Papa and Mama. She might even eat carrots too.

A yawn escapes her lips.

“Are you tired, Anya?” Mama asks, her eyes glancing at the clock on the wall. “It’s almost your bedtime, actually.”

“But Spy Wars isn’t over yet,” she whines.

Mama lets out a soft laugh. “A couple more minutes, then. It should be over soon.”

She picks up the petite girl once the show finishes, carrying her in her arms with ease. As she walks towards Anya’s bedroom, she suggests, “How about we get Loid to read you a bedtime story tonight?”

“What?” his voice exclaims from inside his room.

Mama stops in front of his closed door, giggling. “Come on, Loid. Anya’s been studying really hard lately.”

“Papa! Let’s read Spy Wars!” Anya shouts.

Papa doesn’t say anything, but Anya hears anyway. The door opens then and Papa has a frown on his face, but he still holds a Spy Wars book in his hands.

“You spoil her too much,” he mutters under his breath.

“I think we both do.” Mama laughs.

“I don’t get why this series has a cartoon, comics, and books,” Papa continues. He hits the cover of the book with the back of his hand as though that emphasizes his point. “It’s a bit much.”

Anya pumps her fist in the air. “It’s cuz Spy Wars is super cool! Right, Mama?”

“Yup, super cool.”

They walk into Anya’s bedroom next. Mama tucks her into bed, all tight and cozy, and sits on her right. Papa sits on her left and he opens to the first page of the book. He starts reading slowly, then Mama begins to read some of the words too.

Anya listens carefully. It’s quiet besides what they read off the pages, what they say out loud.

Papa and Mama lie a lot but sometimes they don’t, and Anya knows.

She closes her eyes as she listens to Papa and Mama’s voices.

That night, Anya falls asleep with a smile on her face.

——-

a/n:

I googled around for flower meanings, so there’s multiple interpretations for all the flowers I chose. I chose the ones I did for a reason tho ;)

09/25/19: added a few lines. This is what happens when u write a story in a couple hours and publish it right away

[starshineskyandthepowerofrock]

The First Step

Part 2 of Starshine, Sky, and the Power of Rock.

Wow. Just... wow. I'm gorgeous. I run my hairbrush through my lavender hair one more time, mostly just to savor the smooth, silky texture under my manicured fingers. Just looking at my hands, you'd never guess they were callused from playing guitar. I close my eyes one at a time, and as I gaze into the wall-sized mirror in my walk-in closet, my glossed lips tug themselves into a little smile, because my cosmetologist really didn't have to go that hard on my lids, but he did. Speaking of my favorite servants, I think my tailors have hit a new high because this dress has a beautifully layered skirt with the perfect amount of poof, and they knew how well midnight blue goes with my tan complexion. I roll my right wrist, something I'm prone to do since the tiny silver bracelet my parents gave me when I first got adopted is a lot tighter on fourteen-year-old me than it was on six-year-old me, but I'm not gonna not wear it! My fuzzy cat ears twitch as I place the finishing touch between them: a gem-encrusted tiara, the center gem of course taking the form of my favorite shape, a star. No points for guessing why that is.

I'm not always this well-dressed... Well, okay, I'm always well-dressed but today especially so because it marks one of the most important days of my life. I'm not supposed to go out there before I'm called, but now that I'm ready, the urge to make a premature entrance is incredibly strong. But I can't do that, it would throw everything off-schedule! So, I'll just have to make do until then. Eight years of being my only consistent friend in this behemoth of a palace has left me really, really good at entertaining myself.

I exit my closet, cross my bedroom, and seat myself at my desk. I open my journal to a fresh page, and close my eyes to sit in my thoughts for a minute, only for a minute to turn into a half-hour, because the palace is moving abnormally fast in order to pick up kids from all over the kingdom in just one day, and the sound of the air rushing by my window is far too interesting. Deciding to write whatever comes to mind, because there's a lot of thoughts right now, I pick up my pencil and get to work. Every few minutes, my stomach drops gently until the distinct thud of the palace's base touching the ground comes. The stream of graphite thoughts pouring onto the paper is stoppered each time, and I stare past the wall in front of me to imagine what the kids from this province will be like. My head turns to the glass double-doors leading to my personal balcony, and I take in the clues as to where I am. Elegant mansions framed by lush plant life signal we've reached Hillside, snowflakes in late summer indicate the Frostlands, streets paved with rock candy mean we've reached Dulcet Falls, and so on. At one point, all I can see is a featureless field, and the rumble of a spaceship landing means the kids from the Lunar Alliance must be here. With each landing, a new burst of voices bubbles up from floors beneath me. My longing to see new faces, finally the same age as me, finally in the same class as me, grows greater and greater each time. I truly can't believe this day will be the day I-

A knock at my door sends my heart into a frenzy. I stand up and snap my journal shut in one move. I take one last look out my window, and see the stormy Isle of Isolation separated from me by miles of shimmering blue ocean, which means we've landed on the East Shore. The kids from Saline Deep are here, and they're last on the list, which means it's time! I stop in front of the mirror for what is supposed to be a quick wrinkle-check on my dress, but I guess I'm a second too long because the servant at my door speaks up.

"Your Highness, ten minutes to showtime."

An involuntary yelp escapes my mouth. "Coming!" I reply, and soon I'm speeding down the spacious halls as fast as my high heels will allow. The next few minutes are a whirl of knots of excitement in my stomach and vocal warm-ups and warm honey-lemon sprayed into my throat at just the right angle as to be effective without making me cough. The music of the Band of Light rolls from the stage, and my heart beats in time with the drums. The first chorus is almost over, and then, just like we practiced... then... then...

"And now, students of the Royal Academy of Rock," the announcer's voice booms, "the moment you've been waiting for..."

Yes...

"The Heir to Light..."

Yes, that's me...

"Your destined savior..."

Yes, yes, yes...

"and your future queen..."

Yes, very accurate, we're so close...

"Her Royal Highness, PRINCESS! STAR! SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!"

I bound onstage, right to my designated tape X, and a wave of adoring screams nearly knocks me over. My hips, my arms, my everything moves to the beat. I'm one with the music, analog yet pulsing with electric power. This is the auditory paradise of rock. The lyrics flow from the depths of my belly, clear and controlled. The only thing I'm princess of right now is the stage beneath my decorated feet. My euphoria numbs the pain in my cheeks from endless smiling at my adoring subjects, who, starting tomorrow, will be my adoring classmates. The controlled storm of perfect noise climbs to a glorious climax and falls to silence, which is soon broken by another wave of cheers.

"Hello, everyone!" I mean to say but end up shouting into the mic. More cheers make my heart do a back flip in glee. "I'm... SOOOOO excited to get to meet you all! From now on, I'm your classmate, Star, so let's have an amazing four years and train to OFFICIALLY join the Band of Light!"

The stage melts into fairy dust beneath us. The accompaniment and I are lowered to the floor of the throne room. I curtsy and nod and make joyful greetings my whole way down to the three gem-encrusted thrones on the other side of the stage. My parents are already there, dressed in gowns practically spun from sun and moonlight. My mom, Queen Diamond Shine, smiles serenely at me as I make my way over to them. My mama, Queen Sunshine, rises from the center throne and wraps her arms around me in a delighted hug, which I return. My hands stop at her shoulders as usual, because if they tried to reach her back, they'd run into her golden fairy wings. Her tightly curled, yellow hair is cornrowed on one side and set free on the other and her deep skin sparkles with flecks of gold. She kisses my cheek and we sit down.

"Ohmygoodnessohmygoodnessohmygoodness," I rave to them. "I. Can't. BELIEVE this is happening!"

"Believe it," Mama says. She takes Mom's hand and gives it a squeeze. They exchange proud smiles, which makes my smile only widen.

The announcer next to my throne removes a sizable scroll from his pastel jacket, signaling the First Year Introductions are about to begin. This has happened at every Orientation Day I've been to since my first year as a royal at age six. Every year, I got but a taste of the students of the Academy, because at any other time during the school year we were "distractions to each other," so my contact with them was as limited as possible. But now... now I'm meeting kids I'll know for years to come. I'll grow with them, I'll learn with them, I'll-

"STAR, OH MY GOODNESS, HI!" a certain flame-haired catboy shouts before pulling me into a hug.

Okay, so my friend count isn't zero, stop taking everything so literally. But Citrus was my friend in the orphanage even before I was a princess, so he was an easy one when he started going here last year. But it's been a lot harder to make new friends since I moved to a palace that doesn't stay in one spot for longer than a few days.

"Hi, Citrus!" I say, returning his hug but immediately pulling back. "The Introductions are for first years, and you're a second year."

Citrus' eyes flick from the announcer, who looks a bit miffed that he's been delayed, back to me. He blinks, then smiles. "Oh, you're right, we'll catch up later!"

"Oh, no, don't let me scare you away!" I say. "Here, sit. Help me break the ice." I pat the arm of my throne, which is broad enough for him to sit on. And sit he does.

Most of the kids greet me the way you'd expect people to greet arguably the most famous person alive. High-pitched laughter, clumsy curtsies and bows, not knowing what words are right so settling on not words but incomprehensible wails. They'll get used to me. My joy comes from guessing how they'll be once they've regained the ability to speak. I am able to strike up a couple brief conversations, with help from Citrus, but they are few and far between. Par for the course, all of it, nothing to get upset over.

There are a few things nagging at me through all this, I will admit. See, early on in the long list of first years, the announcer called out an "Ack... dah... ler, Sky...laaar..?" a name that simply did not sound like a name – at least not the kind I was used to hearing – and also a name to which no one responded. I expected the unfortunate bearer of this name to approach timidly, explain that the pronunciation was wrong, and be too embarrassed to ever speak to me again. Instead, no one came, and so Introductions continued. I'd turned to my parents at this moment. Mom was leaning towards Mama, whispering confusedly into her pointed ear. Mama wasn't concerned, though, so neither was I. I haven't forgotten that, though...

The other thing is that, every year, the palace takes off the moment all the students are safely inside. It's usually a big deal. But now that I think of it... I'm compelled to raise to my feet.

"Is something wrong, Star?" Mom asks.

"I'd just like to look out a window for a second," I say. And I go to do just that, with Citrus right behind me.

"What's going on?" Citrus asks.

But I'm already at the nearest window. "I knew it," I say. "What are we still doing on the East Shore?"

Citrus gives a small frown of confusion. "Good question," he says.

With night falling, the Isle of Isolation stands out much clearer as the towns or whatever monsters live in begin to light up. Now I remember why I don't like landing on the East Shore. Those monsters can practically see us from their houses! Just because I was destined to defeat them doesn't mean I'm ready to face them today! I march back to my throne.

"Why are we still on the ground?" I ask my parents.

Mom adopts her serious face. "I've been meaning to ask that question myself," she says, looking at Mama.

Mama inspects her gilded nails. "There's a straggler or two. We can't leave until everyone's here," she says casually.

"Uh, yeah," I say, "But there's a point when a straggler becomes a no-show."

Mama smiles. "Trust me," she says. "Anyone with what it takes to get into here is not a no-show."

Mom raises an eyebrow, but leaves it be. So I do the same.

I've managed to miss a couple letters' worth of surnames during my time away and we're now approaching the G's.

"Oh no," Citrus whispers. "More Glades, I bet."

I flip my hair over my shoulder in disapproval. "Citrus, the Glade bloodline has served the royal family for generations, we can't go disrespecting them like that," I say loudly. Then, I drop my voice to an undertone. "A set of quadruplets came in last year. Why would they want to deal with a fifth one?" We giggle behind our hands.

"Glade, Gossamer!" the announcer shouts.

We stop giggling. Five elf girls, four familiar and one new, sashay my way. Each sports an impressive volume of bouncy forest green ringlets. Breezy, Aspen, Dewdrop, and... ugh... Summer Glade have this new girl flanked on all sides. They're all decked out in typical Hillside flair, with flowing fabric and dainty jewelry and oh, so many flowers. This introduction is supposed to be about Gossamer, mind, but Summer is the one to speak up before this girl so much as opens her mouth.

"This is Gossamer, I'm sure you've heard," she says, placing a ringed hand on her sister's head. "We know she can't technically be in our band, but she's basically going to be with us, so... you know..." She gives me a simpering smile.

I look her up and down, not changing my expression. "What do I know?"

Summer fails to hold back a scoff. "Oh, you know how far back our families go... even if you're adopted... So, why not extend some of that, ah, specialness to our little sister here?"

I raise my eyebrows, as though I only now understand the implications, despite them being the same implications she's been dropping since exactly a year ago when she pulled this exact shtick for herself. "Oh, I see, yes!" I giggle. "Well, Summer, I assure you your sister will be recognized as just as special as you four."

Summer smiles brightly, triumphant.

"...Who are all just as special as everyone else here," I say, unblinking.

Summer's smile decays into a barely concealed scowl. "Okay," she says, and pulls her sister away with the rest of her little crew.

Citrus leans towards me once more. "How can you even stand talking to her? Remember when she dumped chili in my shoes?"

I smooth my skirt, not looking up. "Of course I do. But I'm in school now, and I can deal, honeybun. Stick with me and you'll be fine."

A few more nervous greetings later, and yet another cause for concern arises. This time, a guard comes. He's soaked. I'd hardly realized it's been raining outside. He leans towards Mom and whispers in her ear. If he's only telling her, it must be a safety concern.

Okay, hold on, calm down. Mom will have it taken care of. I avert my eyes from them, trying not to eavesdrop, but the guard has severely underestimated the hearing ability of cat people and I can't help picking up one word: vampire. Citrus heard it too. We look at each other with concern, then both turn to my parents. The guard hands Mom an iridescent envelope. It looks like an acceptance letter to the school. Mom turns it over in her hands, brow knit. She stands, clearly ready for action, but Mama grabs her arm.

"May I see that?" she asks.

Mom hands her the envelope, and Mama inspects it herself. "Describe them," Mama finally says, not looking up.

"Adolescent female. Black cloak. Uh, yay tall," the guard says, gesturing to about the height of his shoulder.

"Does she have albinism?" Mama asks.

The guard blinks confusedly. "Uh, I'm no doctor, but probably?"

Mama smiles. "Oh, it's her!" She scoffs. "And you had me worried! Bring her in."

The guard stares for a moment, then leaves.

This whole conversation makes absolutely no sense to me, but I figure Mama knows what she's doing. Mom, on the other hand, seems apprehensive.

"Why don't I just go check things out real quick?" she asks, gathering her skirts.

"That won't be necessary, Diamond," Mama replies.

Mom hesitates for a moment, but relents. "Okay," she sighs then sits down, leg clearly bouncing beneath her gown.

Everything is seemingly normal for a few moments, but the great doors to the throne room suddenly begin to creak. A sliver of light forms between them as they open, and a cloaked figure stands in the center of the doorway. Beneath the shadowy hood, all I can make out are two glowing pupils, burning white hot. The stranger, trailing rainwater from their worn combat boots, makes their way across the now silent throne room. All eyes are on them as they trudge forward, straight for me. Is this... Is this the vampire they were talking about? But, no, that was impossible because what would a vampire be doing in our school? Plus, vampires have red eyes. These eyes are more of a very pale blue, which I suppose is slightly less unsettling. Nevertheless, I shrink back into my throne until my back is flat against the seat back.

The person now stands before us, not bowing or anything. I turn to Mama. Her smile hasn't faded during all of this.

"Ah, Skylar Acdalur, so glad you could join us. I understand you've had a long journey?" Mama asks, as though this person isn't dripping all over the freshly polished floor.

Skylar, apparently, nods.

Mama takes a quick glance at their cloak before remaking eye contact. "I can have someone take your cloak for you."

Skylar's eyes widen. "Oh!" they say. Skylar quickly removes the tattered cloak, revealing an incredibly pale, skinny girl underneath. And when I say pale, I mean you could lose her in a snowstorm because her skin, her hair, her everything is ghostly white, save her eyes, which are still blue, though no longer glowing. The pointed ears protruding from her messy hair make me initially think her a diseased, abnormally poor elf. But then too many points click. The sunken, glowing eyes... the fact that we're right next to the Isle of Isolation... I look down at her mouth...

Fangs!