#but I keep being indecisive and switching out who would play along with them

[cerealforkart]

I spend such an unreasonable amount of time contemplating drawing Taylor and Hermie having fun going to a convention in Cross Guild cosplay. The only reason I haven’t done it is because I don’t know which of their friends they would force to tag along as their Crocodile. It could be any of them.

[mercurytrinemoon]

Me debunking astrology generalizations and misconceptions or smth idk...

Squares and oppositions aren't pure evil. 

I can't believe I have to say this because I thought ya'll have learnt the characteristics of every aspect but here we are. Nothing in astrology is black and white. And I saw some ridiculous statements (not necessary here on tumblr) that said things like "if your Venus squares someone's ascendant then you don't find that person attractive AT ALL". Or "Mars square Mercury people can't speak politely and have an annoying voice". Like????? First of all, that's ridiculous. Second of all, square in not "everything bad" just like trine is not "everything amazing". Squares bring tension, which leads to motivation, they’re stimulating; sometimes excitement or charisma; sometimes they can make you overdo things. I'm not saying they're oh-so-marvelous because the challenges are still there, but they're not as bad as people paint them to be. Squares happen between two signs that are in the same modality so they have a bunch of things in common. Besides, some of them (Sagi-Pisces and Gemini-Virgo) are ruled by the same planet so there's a special type of chemistry between those (especially when applied to synastry). Oppositions work in two ways, planets either meet in the middle - opposite signs usually complete each other and fuel each other up. And worse case scenario? Natally this means being pulled in two different directions; synastry-wise, you can completely miss each other like two passing cars - so there may be some misunderstandings but I don't think that's the end of the world... And, as per usual, may be mitigated by other positive aspects.

This is me debunking other people's attempts at debunking Sun sign compatibility. 

Sun IS very important but when people ask about compatibility and go with Suns... and then someone tries to be a smartass and debunk the "compatible-incompatible" and does the same thing without even realizing it. Like, "oh I actually see a lot of Aries and Pisces having amazing relationships because *insert someting that is a total stretch and refers to their Sun sign traits*"... But you seem to forget that they're neighbouring signs... which means they probably have personal planets in those neighbouring signs... which means they're compatible not because of some made-up stuff that you're trying to come up with but because their other planets are compatible with each other. But you're still feeding into the Sun sign compatibility talk. (So like, what I'm trying to also say, yes, the entire synastry chart comes into play; Also, side note, everyone can get along on some level if they’re mature enough).

Planet in a sign is NOT the same as planet in the house. 

There may be some overlaps in some of the sign-houses associations (like in the overall energy; like for example, it sort of makes sense that 3rd, 7th and 11th are referred to as “air houses” because they’re the most social) but in NO WAY there are similarities between planet house position and the "ruling" sign. That association started a few decades ago and some would say that NOT linking houses with signs is a purely traditional approach. But there’s plenty of professional modern astrologers with 20/30/40-year experience who still differentiate between sign/house position... because they know (and have learnt along the way) that there’s a huge difference.

I'll give you 3 quick examples: Gemini planets and 3rd house planets both may put emphasis on communication, mental stimulation and gathering data. But Geminis are often scattered in their approach, they may be easily distracted, may be indecisive, may be jack of all trades and talkative jokesters. They actually hate routines and dullness. "Spice it up" is probably a Gemini's philosophy. Now 3rd house planets may indicate you actually LIKE doing things on the regular - like running errands every other day in the mornings or going to that one specific coffee shop to pick up a snack. You may actually work in logistics or as a postman (especially if your chart ruler or MC ruler is in the 3rd). Planets in the 3rd talk about your siblings, neighbours or school experiences - like having Venus in the 3rd may point to positive experiences within those areas - something Gemini Venus has nothing in common.

Venus in the 9th can study at an art/beauty or fashion school (or even teach there if the MC is involved); can be very attached to spiritual and religious matters; can also find love in a foreign land. But imagine it being in Taurus - rather shy, needing those stable values to feel secure, being an exceptionally great student at that art school thanks to its domicile. Venus in Sagittarius on the other hand, likes adventure, things being shaken up from time to time, lightheartedness and exploration. But what if we flip the scenario and that Sag Venus is in the 2nd house. This can denote earing money through travelling and looking for ways to expand but in a financial matters.

Continuing with the Venus examples, having Venus in Aries is completely different than Venus in the 1st. What do people usually say about Venus in the 1st? That it makes the native charming, lovely, well-put together, with great manners, maybe beautiful, graceful, maybe a bit shallow. When in Aries? None of these characteristics fit, on top of that, it's in its detriment. Our poor gal Venus is uncomfortable and confused in Aries. She's like, "conquer? Swords? Selfishness? Obnoxiousness? Sparring? You're telling me to fight people? What am I doing here???" 

And I'll leave you here with that cause those examples weren’t that quick lol and in fact, I could give you a 100 of those. Besides, this actually inspired a 3-page rant that I've already posted not so long ago that you can read HERE.

There's no such thing as "more accurate" astrology. 

Both western and vedic are valid. Both can show you the same things. JUST KEEP THEM SEPARATE AND DON'T MIX THEM WITH EACH OTHER. And don't say things like "sidereal shows your soul" - omg I saw this statement soooo many times, who the hell even came up with this?! Actually, if anything, it's the modern western approach that "psychologized" (yea I just made up a word, you mad?) astrology while Jyotish still sticks to the very real "here and now", sometimes fatalistic predictions of how exactly your life is going to roll out... But hey, reach for hellenistic methods and they can tell you the same things, just with different tools. So no, they do not show different things, it's just their language is different.

If you say you don't identify with your chart then you're just reading it wrong.

This partially connects to the last one in some ways... Switching to a different astrology or different charts is not a solution. Learn how to read your natal. If you say it doesn’t describe you, I can guarantee you that you haven’t studied it properly. (Now this hasn't turned into a rant yet but I may actually do a whole-ass post on this because if I start elaborating on it now I'll end up with another 3-page essay).

Learn how and when to generalize. Also learn how to take generalizations. 

I understand that you have to pick up on every single thing separately in order to put everything together. It's like learning a new language: first you need to learn individual words and then you need to know the proper grammar to create a full sentence. This is 100% understandable and necessary, but it's important to take the entire thing into consideration. And this goes for all branches of astrology, but I guess it's especially annoying with synastry. This, again, comes down to the very black and white approach. You know, like when you see those long paragraphs where people elaborate on all the intricacies of Venus-Pluto aspects or whatever as if that one thing was determining the entire relationship between two people. (Side note, no shade but some of ya'll should start writing fiction or poetry cause the amount of fluffy speech and waffle that I see floating around here on tumblr is insane sometimes). Why are you wording everything as a make it or break it type of situation? And on the receiving end - learn how to take *properly phrased* generalizations constructively. Example: it IS a rule that Aries is a competitive one, maybe you're not one of them (for many reasons) but don't make a fuss about someone saying this. It IS a basic rule that energies of the same sign in two people are going to get along (well that depends on the planets involved but I digress), if that, for some other reasons, doesn't apply to you, don't go yelling that it's bullcrap because you hate people of the same sign. You know? Like, learn the difference.

DON'T SCARE PEOPLE WITH ASTROLOGY.

I had a mini-rant on this one a while ago, but I think this deserves a constant reminder (and refers to the last point), I don't want to see any more posts that would say things like "xxx house placements will bring you suffering" or "stay away from people with planets in your xxx house" or, even worse, making a (completely untrue btw) prediction based on one single thing like "someone with so-and-so aspect is going to harm you". And you're so casual about it??? You know there are sensitive people in the world. Learn some ethics. Learn some counseling skills. Don't be ignorant. Don't throw these random stuff at people just like that. And learn some actual astrology cause most of these aren't even closely describing that particual aspect. LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

Ok now I'm pissed again.

Studying astrology and believing in free will doesn’t go well together.

It's not just psychological and spiritual. It's useful to know that western astrology made it like that because there were still people threatening astrologers for using it as a divination tool. So they moved away from the predictive/deterministic aspect of it. Now, I'm not here to change anyone's beliefs cause that's a very personal thing that everyone should develop on their own. But once you start diving deeper into astrology you'd notice that there's a heavy emphasis on fatedness and things being predetermined. That includes both the good and the bad stuff and you should learn to accept that. And with the bad things specifically, let's not excuse it with some "oh that was an opportunity for growth". Like yea, maybe, occasionally??? But just acknowledge that sometimes things happen not because there was a deeper meaning in them... but because you have a Pluto-Mars conjunction in the 6th that makes an applying square to your chart ruler and you were going through a profection year where Mars was your time lord and it transited that chart ruler while making a conjunction with Neptune so you were attacked by a baby crocodile while swimming and it bit off your toe and you got a nasty infection and that’s it (I just made that up btw, I don't actually know anyone who was attacted by a crocodile). So like, sometimes shit just happens and there's nothing psychological about it. Also, I bet your free will didn't want to be attacked by that croc.

[todoscript]

seeing you dressed as a cat for your first halloween together

character: shinsou hitoshi. genre: suggestive. warnings: mature. implied sexual content.

anonymous requested: shinsous reaction to seeing reader dress as a cat for their first halloween together? maybe he’s just become brave enough and started to call her “kitty/kitten”, so reader sees how far she can push him in her costume?? 😳🤭

author’s note: didn’t mean for it to get this long, but y’know. scenario portion underneath the cut!

shinsou hitoshi

your first halloween as a couple is celebrated a year after you and class a had graduated from u.a.

shinsou and you have been together since then, starting dating after you both confessed your long time crushes enduring throughout high school before forming a committed relationship while in the spring of your hero work

for this year’s halloween, the u.a. alumni had decided on a reunion/get-together to celebrate the occasion of spooks and sweets—a longstanding tradition you all just couldn’t seem to let go of despite now being fledging heroes out on the field

yes, this year, the group was planning a festive, joint halloween party along with former class b

of course, you made a point that the two of you would definitely be there the night of the 31st

and like every halloween party, everyone knows it’d be absolute heresy not to dress up in the spirit of the event

the most challenging part, however, was choosing which costume to wear

you thought the idea would come naturally to you, that it wouldn’t be much of a problem finding the character or creature you’d like to parade into the party as 

with a dash of makeup and some advice from the girls, you’re sure you could pull off any look, so long as the ensemble wasn’t too extravagant for your liking 

yes, something subtle, yet enticing seemed about right—a costume, that when thrown together, read “effortless” the moment you saunter down into the party with a grin painted on lips and confidence oozing out of your presence

though as much as you’d like to impress those attending, you’d be doubtlessly lying to yourself if you weren’t extra indecisive about your attire this year due to the keen eyes of your indigo-haired boyfriend

it is your first halloween together after all, and what better way to enjoy the event than to rile shinsou up, right?

now, it was only the matter of what got him the most hot and bothered—what’d you have to wear to have his heart fluttering and every nerve in his body receptive at just a simple glance at you?

and that’s when it hits you

ah, you thought, a couple of nights before the awaited event, why didn’t i think of this sooner?

- - - - -

Shinsou arrives at the foot of your apartment door the very evening the moon begins hanging in the sky, beholding all the festivities taking place on the anticipated thirty-first of October from its darkening haven.

He nearly trips on his way there, his costume’s frayed bandages dragging behind his feet. As anyone would have guessed, Shinsou decides to tackle the event tonight as your run-of-the-mill mummy—covered head to toe in an assortment of dreary-colored wrappings. Though far from flashy, the costume gets the job done without him having to put too much effort to look presentable, and that is enough for him.

Having texted you about his arrival at your doorstep already, Shinsou lets himself in using the spare key to your apartment you gave him a couple of months ago.

“Y/n? I’m here, are you ready yet?” His voice rings across the expanse of your residence, traveling across the thresholds and penetrating through your room, muffled by the closed door.

“Not quite, but I’m almost done! Wait for me on the couch, Toshi!” He hears you yell in response. Your voice is equally stifled but heard nonetheless. As told, he plants himself comfortably on the couch in your humble living space.

Leg folded over the other, his hands naturally find themselves playing with the edges of his bandages between the minutes ticking by. He checks his phone after the fifth-minute passes, acting wary about the time and pondering how long it would take to reach the party from your current location. Though in all honesty, he never truly cared much about punctuality. Shinsou has never really been a party guy himself, but he’d parade through this shindig just for you if it made you happy. Plus, it is your first Halloween together, after all. It only feels right to indulge in the festivities this year.

Speaking of, right after he presses his phone to sleep mode, he detects the footfalls of your heels clicking against the floor. It seizes his attention to look up and greet you; however, the words barely prevail past his throat at what stands before him.

“Hey, kitten—” His pet name for you is the last discernible thing uttered. You have to giggle at the way Shinsou’s eyes widen while he rakes over your form scrupulously, absorbing every detail available in his line of vision.

You stand at the threshold of your hallway clad in a tight, dark leopard printed suit that molds perfectly against your body—emphasizing its luscious curves—and paired with a set of black cat ears perched atop your head. Your makeup is executed in a way in which the look is sophisticated yet enticing, eyelids smoked in subtle shadows, and lavish lips lined crimson. Shinsou especially doesn’t miss the faint whisker markings drawn across your cheeks. 

“Yes~?” you reply playfully, tone teetering the line of innocent and mischievous as you turn around and show him a tease of a view, where he finds the cat tail hanging limply behind your beautiful ass. The way his teeth chafe the delicate skin of his bottom lip doesn’t go unnoticed as it urges you to continue playing along.

“What’s the matter, Toshi? Cat got your tongue? Your kitten’s right here,” you follow with a purr reverberating the roof of your mouth. It isn’t long until Shinsou catches on your act. There’s a shift in his violet eyes that glints darkly as you tauntingly spin your faux tail in place.

“Well come here then, kitty.” He motions you toward him in a hithering gesture. You give him a small show by swaying your hips, gliding in his direction. Drinking in your approaching form, he parts his legs, allowing you to stand between them.

Coming out of your room dressed like this, you knew what you were in for, and you’re positively elated by his reaction at your thoughtfully planned out costume.

Being that Shinsou’s few weaknesses consisted of cats and his girlfriend, it’s only natural that the man simply can’t seem to keep his hands off you, witnessing the best of both worlds before him. While his hands roam across the leopard print fabric veiled on your skin, you fiddle with the ragged bandages wrapped listlessly around his head, an amused grin on your lips.

“I see Pro Hero Mindjack decided to be a mummy this Halloween. It very much fits you, Hitoshi,” you comment. You manage to retain the stability in your voice despite Shinsou’s grabby hands pawing the back of your thighs, slowly wavering to the bottom of your ass.

“Mm, not as much as this suit fits you. Kitten, you’re absolutely gorgeous,” he says, pressing a kiss against your lower abdomen.

You continue, musing, “Oh? So I’m only gorgeous to you dressed as a cat then?”

Shinsou shakes his head coolly. “Of course not. You’re always so beautiful to me, you know that. But damn, sweetheart, you really outdid yourself tonight, dressing up as a naughty cat on Halloween. Just who gave you the idea?”

He palms the globes of your ass in his large hands, which sprouts a chuckle from you before you bend down to plant a delicate peck on his lips, mindful not to smear the freshly coated pigment on your own.

“You, of course,” you answer, honest about the appeal his pet name evoked for you to go about your choice of attire tonight. “Now come on, we have a party to get to, don’t we?”

Shinsou narrows his brows at your last statement, remembering your plans for the night. The image of you strutting down an aisle of partygoers—each of their deviating eyes staring at what’s clearly his—rubs him the wrong way. He’s never pegged himself overly possessive of you, but this costume of yours is much too delectable to be eaten up by anyone else’s eyes. So to be completely blunt, he doesn’t want to share.

As soon as you make a move to turn around to head toward the door, you’re foiled by two tattered arms wound on your waist that effectively pull you onto the couch.

Situated in the empty slot between Shinsou’s thighs, his mouth maneuvers to your right ear to whisper huskily, “Y’know… We could just celebrate Halloween together here. Alone.”

There’s an evident suggestion in his tone that you truthfully expected out of him. To his chagrin, however, you don’t allow him to indulge in his revelries yet.

“Ah-ah Mummy Man, we got all dolled up and everything—”

“Correction, kitty cat, you got dolled up, I did the bare minimum,” he counters, “and quite frankly, I wouldn’t mind getting out of these annoying bandages already.”

Aware it’s going to take a little more to get Shinsou to budge from his seat, you decide to bring out the heavy artillery. 

“Yes, but we did give them our word that we’d be there…” you reason, voice sounding sweeter to his ears that he starts wavering his stance. “And I want to see everyone in all their costumes. C’mon, please?”

Damn, for a sexy little thing, you sure know how to immediately flip a switch and act all cute. And how is he to resist when you’re fluttering your long lashes and bestowing him the sanguine light in your eyes. You watch as the fight within him gradually dissipates into dust until he demurely shrugs his shoulders in defeat.

“Fine, let’s get this Halloween party over with,” he grumbles, and you tip his white flag with a kiss on his cheek when he glances away.

“Mm thanks, Toshi, I’ll make sure to reward you handsomely tonight, alright?” Your promises bloom heat in his cheeks, evolving into anticipation throughout his body.

“And who knows… maybe you can find some different usages for those mummy wrappings of yours later.”

[kaashiboo]

ahah heeeey!!!!! can i request kenma, akaashi and sugawara as best friends with gender neutral reader?

thank you for your hard work i really enjoy reading your headcannons (灬º‿º灬)♡

haikyuu boys as your best friend

┇ kenma, akaashi, and suga

gn!reader

【warnings: none】

➢ general note: ohoho this is a very long one so buckle up!

✎ a/n: aaww this is request is cute! thank you for appreciating my work and i'm so glad you enjoy reading them! take care of yourself!<3

kenma

you've been friends with kenma and kuroo ever since you were a child but you're more close with kenma due to his chill personality.

but that doesn't mean that you're less chaotic

kenma honestly questions himself as to why he's best friends with you

but you're a bit more tolerable than kuroo he guesses.

"say, if i hypothetically and accidentally broke your swi— kenma, you're gonna kill me with your stare." you laugh nervously.

"give it to me." you removed your hand behind your back and gave him his switch with a pout.

"are you mad at me?" you asked, rubbing your nape. awkwardly.

kenma sighed loudly, "yeah."

"oh" your shoulders dropped.

"but it's fine since i already bought a new one. i'm mad because i was planning to give you this one but i guess we have to make someone check it out if it's still repairable." he replied and your eyes lit up in excitement.

"really?"

"yeah."

"but i don't have the money for it."

"we'll make kuroo pay." he shrugged and you tilted your head in confusion.

"eh? do you really think he would agree to that?"

"i don't know. maybe. just do all his work or compliment him everyday, that might work."

"are you two planning on how to murder me?" kuroo appears out of nowhere, ruffling kenma's and your hair.

"yes." the setter and you answered in unison.

people also wonder how you can keep up with kenma but you're honestly one of the people that can see through him and could tell whether something is bothering him.

and he never hesitated to show you what he really feels. if he's mad then you'd let him vent and let out all his frustrations.

and there were times as well where he just wanted to be away from anyone so you gave him space.

but because he finds you tolerable, he begged you to not distance yourself from him.

now, in terms of YOU being sad, we all know he's not the greatest when it comes to comforting people but he would always find a way to cheer you up like offering you to play games with him.

he would even let you do the interior design of his house in minecraft as long as he can see you're enjoying.

just like what others do, he would typically protect you from mobs while you pick up flowers.

but most of the time, you would have a competition on which person could kill as many mobs as they can.

you also would do stupid challenges that you see on youtube.

and late night walks with him are the best since you never had to worry about bothering him when he rarely sleeps early.

let me rephrase that real quick, it's mostly you walking around while kenma sits on a bench,,, still playing.

but he would occasionally look for you to make sure you weren't lost or kidnapped.

you would eventually get tired so you just... lay on the grass and roll around.

kenma puts down his switch, "what are you doing, y/n?"

"i'm bored. you're not even paying attention." you whispered the last part but he still caught it.

"alright, sorry. stand up now. let's go to the convenience store and crash at kuroo's house." he offered and you immediately agreed.

because the two of you never failed to be in the same class every year, your classmates would be confused since you two would verbally fight and give each other a silent treatment and then one second later, you would give him food and he tries to help you beat the level you're currently on with the game you're playing.

and in the timeskip, the three of you have stable jobs like, rich rich rich very rich.

"at this point, we can be your sugar daddies." kuroo jokes but you paid no attention to him as you were still busy processing with what kenma gave you as a present.

literally everything you need for streaming— heck, you're not even sure if you would use all of them.

but kenma still wanted to drag you along with him to do things that he loves

not that you'd complain about it anyway.

"you're helping me set everything up." you finally recovered from your state of shock and pulled kenma up from your couch.

akaashi

and the best 'best friend' award goes to akaashi keiji!

look, just because he's a laid-back person, doesn't mean he's unaware of how to push your buttons.

he would subtly annoy you. so subtle that not everyone could notice that you wanted to murder him on the spot.

"akaashi keiji, i will seriously ki—"

"it's settled then! y/n, please come to my office now." the teacher spoke, making you groan in frustration before standing up but you made sure to purposely step on his foot and he silently winced in pain.

the chat with the teacher didn't take long and when you exited the office, you saw your best friend standing outside, waiting for you with a barely noticeable smirk.

yeah, we might have to take back his award.

you rolled your eyes and walked past him but he grabbed your bag and pulled you back.

"sorry, do i know you?" you scoffed.

"look, i'm sorry. i already told you that you shouldn't sleep in class." he reminded, implying that him dragging you into doing something was a sort of consequence from sleeping in class.

"i know! but you decided to be annoying again and volunteered that i would help with some activity." you complained. he still hasn't let go of your bag but you continued walking which may or may not made it look like you were his pet.

akaashi knows you're not actually mad at him and so he didn't have to bother to apologize again.

"if it makes you feel better, i volunteered first before you. at least we're now both busy."

you didn't respond and continued walking, "where are you going?" he asks.

"home."

"no."

"no?"

"i have practice," he said.

"what does that have to do with me?!" you wailed.

"nothing." you facepalmed and let him pull you to the gym.

the first time you met was during middle school. you were crying because you lost a competition and unfortunately for you, akaashi was the one who won.

he tried comforting you but you pushed him away.

akaashi was persistent though. he didn't want you to stay mad at him and so he bothered you everyday until you finally started to warm up to him.

you sighed for the ninth time. deciding to make a paper plane and throw it to akaashi's way.

it fortunately hit his forehead and he 'tsk-ed' at your action but he continued reading the book anyway.

you reached for the plane, crumpling it until it's round.

"i thought you were gonna teach me?" you question and threw the paper at him, again but lucky for him, he caught it.

he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, "how am i supposed to teach you if you keep throwing things at me?"

you see, you're smart but there are certain subjects that you really hate and you coincidentally got sick during a discussion and now you and akaashi are currently studying in the library.

he knows he could have just lent you his notes and you can just take a photo of it but he wouldn't let you do that because his reasoning was, "you'll learn better if you write it down." you've complained to him about it many times and he'll eventually get tired and not give you anything so now you've learned your lesson,

don't annoy keiji.

but sometimes, he's kind enough to cover for you when you're asleep during class and would lie to the teachers by saying you're sick.

which rarely happens since he doesn't always tolerate you so being friends with him feels like having a parent watch you all the time.

"maybe if i befriended konoha then i'm already done with this." you huffed.

"he doesn't have the patience to deal with you, y/n." you let out an offended gasp before throwing your pencil case at him.

honestly speaking, the two of you get along really well. you're more talkative and he tends to listen to your rants a lot.

and of course, he would also share to you how his day went and how he found a new way to get bokuto out of his emo mode.

hanging out with him outside of school can be chaotic at times.

especially if you decide to go to the arcade because expect him to tease you a lot when you couldn't get the prize you wanted.

he would help you though:)

and since you two are a popular duo, you would often get a lot of confessions from boys and akaashi would ramble about how it's a waste of time and that you should focus on your studies.

but he would also reassure you that he'll support you no matter what decision you make.

in conclusion, he's a bit confusing and indecisive but he just wants the best for you but then he would also start thinking that he's being controlling of your own life.

akaashi also can't keep his cool sometimes,

"i can't believe they cheated on me." you hugged your legs closer to your chest as you sob.

his practice was already over but he insisted that the two of you stay at the gym so that you could talk to him about your problems.

"they’re an asshole, y/n." he replied.

usually, he would rub circles on your back when you're crying but this time, he stayed still on his seat so you glanced at him and frowned.

"you weren't even paying attention," you said.

"i was," he stopped typing on his phone to look at you.

"i was just searching up ways how to murder someone without getting caught." he joked and you chuckled.

"just kidding. i was ordering your favorite food. now stand up and wipe your tears. don't let that asshole see you vulnerable. show him that you don't even need him in the first place because you don't need anyone, 'kay?" he pulled you up and nodded at his advice.

"except for me, of course. how else would you be alive if it weren't for me?"

"i have my own parents." you rolled your eyes playfully.

"they don't love you— they prefer me." he teased once again. earning a punch from you.

suga

aDMIT IT, SUGA IS SO FUN TO BE WITH.

like sureeee he would help you most of the time

but he's also the same person that would get you in trouble.

"vice principal, i am so sorry! i didn't mean to knock off your wig! please don't suspend me—"

"it's fine, l/n. just go and don't tell anyone." the old man sighed.

you bowed and left, running to where suga was standing.

you saw your friend biting his lower lip to stifle a laugh.

you glared at him but you couldn't help but to cackle at what happened and now you two are being noisy in the hallway that made others look at you weirdly.

"i told you, he's bald!" he exclaimed and your laugh couldn't get any louder until you start coughing from the lack of oxygen.

"oH MY GOD— DON'T DIE ON ME Y/N," he said dramatically before offering you a bottle of water.

"you're so dramatic, please shut up." you rolled your eyes after drinking.

you and suga have been arguing for a week about how he witnessed himself how the vice principal's wig flew off and it was too good to be true so you didn't believe him.

not until your beloved best friend pushed you to the vp's direction accidentally.

you were taller than the old man so when you bumped into him, you wanted to grab onto something for support but instead, you knocked off his hairpiece.

and suga ran away instead of helping you.

we love a supportive friend.

"well at least he was kind enough to not give you a punishment." suga shrugged and you just nodded your head in agreement.

when you transferred to karasuno during second year, you luckily met suga when you asked for directions.

you two were in the same class so he accompanied you the whole day.

he was very talkative and you loved hearing him talk about volleyball.

at first, you admired him for how approachable and kind he is

but now you just want to kick him.

"i said he wasn't my crush!" you convinced him but suga ony hummed in response.

"but you were staring at him with heart eyes." he quirked a brow.

"i wasn't!"

"you were!"

"i wasn't!"

"you we—"

"suga and y/n, that's enough." daichi sighed. pushing the two of you apart from each other.

"daichi! your vice captain is being annoying again."

"daichi, did you know that y/n has a crush on y—" his words were cut off when you covered his mouth with your hand and he had no choice but to bite your palm and you backed away in disgust.

"i don't like you anymore." you huffed and he just ruffled your hair.

"ah really now?" he smiled but you knew that behind that smile was an evil intention.

"nevermind." you muttered. not trusting your own friend.

oh and your parents adore suga.

like, they know you have other friends as well but suga is the only person they trust to be with you all the time.

and honestly, you agree with them. no words or numbers could describe how much you trust the setter.

despite his naughty and chaotic attitude, he always takes care of you.

kind of like akaashi but he's a bit more loose.

he's very good at giving you advice.

he's also the type of friend that sulks when you miss a game.

like, he would literally ignore you.

and now you're struggling how to make him forgive you.

"kōshi, enough. you've been ignoring me for a week! it was just one game, come on." you persuaded, poking his side but he didn't budge and continued writing down notes.

"i'm sorry for missing your game. i swear, it was an accident! i would never miss your next match again!"

he shifted in his seat and your eyes were filled with hope.

he looks at you with a slight hint of disappointment, "even if i'm not a regular anymore?" the question caught you off guard.

"what do you mean?" he remained quiet and you took that as a sign that he didn't wanna talk and so you impatiently waited for classes to be over.

as soon as you were dismissed, you pulled him out of the classroom to take him to your favorite spot just near the gym.

"i don't like how you're doubting my ability to support you. it doesn't matter what you do— heck, you could even commit a crime and i might bail you out of jail." you uttered. finally breaking the silence that engulfed the two of you the past few minutes.

you struggle with expressing how you feel sometimes and being able to decipher your analogies is one of suga's skills.

"your comforting skill is top tier." he replied.

you know how he would playfully hit his teammates? he'd do the same to you but he would only give you head pats, not wanting to hurt you physically.

and you unexpectedly just learned how to love it.

it somehow inspires you to work harder since he only gives you head pats when you achieve something and it's his way of congratulating you!

he also likes to drag you along with him. he wants to watch a movie? he would buy an extra ticket just for you!

but sometimes, he would whine about being broke when he's with you🤡

would also be ready to make a presentation as to why you are his platonic soulmate.

please just agree with him so he won't be sad</3

last but not the least, gossiping.

literally, the two of you will not call it a day if you haven't talked about any issues at all.

so even if you were sleepy, he would call or text you in the middle of the night and be like, 'tea time?'

aaahh imagine how shock i was when i saw that this was about 2k words overall AHAHA. i know that akaashi's part seems a bit off but honestly i just imagine him being a bit mischevious and more open to people he's genuinely close with so yeah! i had so much fun writing but i feel bad becaue it was so long- anyway, thank you for reading!<3

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 3]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“I can’t tell if this is a date or a debt collection“

“So where do you want to eat?” Corpse murmurs, sitting in the same car with the same girl he’d been in only a few days ago. His seatbelt clicks and he tilts his head to peer at her from his peripheral vision. She’s buckling up and getting settled in the passenger seat where no one but her has sat in for months. His cheeks turn pink when she turns to look at him, catching him staring which brings a grin to her face. 

“I’m buying you food, bud, you pick.” She answers simply, leaning back in the old seat. 

Corpse sits frozen for a minute or two as he contemplates what the best option would be. 

Nowhere? Could I get away with that though? 

His anxiety is starting to creep up again - the dark demon of his existence. The everpresent rain cloud over the parade of his life. 

What if I make myself look like an idiot. What if I picked something she doesn’t like? Would she think I’m weird? What if whatever I get makes me sick and I end up embarrassing myself! 

Wait, she’s a klepto. What if she robs me?!

“If you can’t think of a place, there’s a little bistro about ten minutes down West Colt avenue that has some pretty bangin’ Greek food.” She suggests calmly, taking his silence as indecisiveness. She’s good at picking up subtle cues, he’s thankful for that. She seems to easily be able to get along with anyone despite her wild personality. She may have a wild spirit, but she’s got the ability to tame it when needed. She’s the only one with that power from what it seems. 

Corpse takes a moment, nods and puts his car into drive to head in the directions she mentioned.

He isn’t completely sure how she’s perceived his indecisiveness though, which is bothering him - was she annoyed by it and wanted to put an end to it or was she just trying to be helpful and prevent him from getting himself worked up? His mind spirals so easily, he hates it. Even in a calm and casual - ok, as casual as it’s gonna get with this girl - scenario, his head is spinning with nothing but the worst outcomes and possibilities. That’s anxiety for ya, it’s a fucking bitch. Either way he appreciates her stepping in like that, saved him quite the bus load of anxious pondering, so the least he can do is offer her a quick smile. 

Don’t make it weird, Corpse!, he scolds himself.

She’s looking out the passenger side window, fingers tapping calmly and rhythmically against her knee, seemingly not bothered by the loud silence in the vehicle. He, however, is not so at peace with it. He’s usually the one to enjoy silences, unless he finds himself in these kinds of situations - in-closed space with another person. He tries to ask himself what would other people do to put an end to the quiet that feels almost like a physical presence. Small talk? That’s one thing he’s never been good at. Music? That’s the key here, however he can’t be sure how to properly use it to his advantage. He can’t just play whatever and expect it to be fine. He appreciates taste in people - he knows he’d be mildly offended if people didn’t respect his taste, that’s why he always pays attention to the favors of others. Especially when it comes to music. 

That’s why, before turning the car radio on, he pauses to ask: “What kind of m-“

“Anything. Really.” She says quickly, cutting him off mid-question before laughing in a certain way Corpse can’t quite place...nervously? Could that be it? That’s a sound he never expected he’d hear from her. Is that feeling even in her specter of emotions? Her? Nervous? - sounds more impossible than him being confident. 

 “Anything?” He’s curious now. She’s managed to intrigue him so easily. He smirks, switching from the radio over to the CD he has placed in the stereo. It’s a compilation of several bands he enjoys listening to, songs that help relax and soothe him. Bonus points for the effect they have on his anxiety - they always manage to suppress it even the slightest bit. Many of his favorites are on there, a lot of genre mixing as well: rap, punk, industrial. But there are also a few mellows on there, even a couple foreign songs that she might not have heard before. 

Much to his relief, a little glow appears in her eyes at the sound of the tunes that fill the car, burning brighter than the reflection of the midday sun that’s already present in them, “I’ve always loved music...haven’t found anything I don’t like.” She tells him, voice traveling softly as she closes her eyes for a moment before opening them and allowing her grin to widen, “So...my choker, huh? Thought it suited ya?”

Corpse laughs a little, low and timid as the car comes to a slow stop at a red light. “I thought it was mine, I swear.” He admits, shrugging slightly. “I go by a C name on the internet so…thought it was a product of my bullshit sentimentality or a shopping spree I can’t recall.” He swallows hard, contemplating whether mentioning he’s online was a bad move or not.

 Luckily, she doesn’t  seem to have acknowledged it, as she promptly speaks up again, “You do look good in a collar, you have that bad dog kind of vibe. If it didn’t have such sentimental value I would’ve let you keep it.” She laughs, a sound so light, almost like a glow you can see more than a voice you can hear. It’s contagious too and he can’t help but chuckle with her, blushing again. 

“You would look good in one too I bet.” He says but cringes right as the words leave his mouth. He’s quick to regret what he has said, his tongue burning with a bitter taste as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel and clenches his jaw. 

Fuck! Stupid! Stupid! Why the fuck would you say something like that?? She’s going to think you’re a fucking creepy pervert who’s imagin-

Corpse’s mental anguish is put to an abrupt pause as something warm covers the fingers of his right hand. He lets his tunnel vision focus on his hand to find hers curled over it. 

“Hey…you still with me?” She asks carefully, thumb touching one of his rings. “You don’t have to worry about offending me. It takes a lot to do that, if you can’t tell. Besides, you seem pretty cool and you’re not a narc so that’s a huge plus.” She squeezes his hand before wiggling her fingers under his palm and pulling it from the steering wheel so their fingers could intertwine. “If you need it, you can always grab my hand any time and squeeze until you don’t feel nervous. Although, you never need to be nervous around me. Consider me your personal human safety blanket. Or a….what to call it?... - A checkpoint! If everything or everyone else makes you anxious, I’m your checkpoint person where that anxiety should evaporate. Sounds good?”

Corpse stares at this literal stranger in his car. A stranger holding his hand and promising to be there for him when his anxiety overwhelms him. Letting him rely on her whenever his chest tightens or his heart speeds up. He feels so much while looking at the sight she is. Gratitude and confusion take over though. “Why would...you-..” He attempts to mutter, but she’s quick to cut him off yet again.

“Because I know what it’s like to be anxious and I wish I had somebody to help me when I was feeling that storm in me.” She replies, shrugging her shoulders with nonchalance and gives his palm another gentle and encouraging squeeze. “Even if this is a one time hang out sesh between strangers, you can count on me until we go our separate ways.” Confidence radiates from her like waves of warmth and safety. 

Her aura’s reaching out to his, offering him reassurance and comfort. And so, he decides to accept.

Corpse finally brings himself to squeeze her hand back. “-...thanks.” He murmurs, lips quirking up in a smile. 

But I don’t want this to be a one time thing…I might actually have a friend. I may have just clicked with someone like I haven’t in so long. 

She releases his hand so he could continue driving, nodding her head as if to tell him she’s still there despite the loss of contact, reassuring him that he could reestablish that contact whenever he’d like or need to. 

He now feels more comfortable in the car, more relaxed than he can even remember. Music plays from the speakers but it’s overpowered by their voices singing along to the songs they recognize. Corpse can’t help but note she sounds nice, singing like that - so carelessly. She’s by no means a Utada Hikaru, or a Mariah Carey but she knows how to hold a tune and he can appreciate that. He’s no BONES either after all.

He doesn’t want this drive to end, he doesn’t want this bubble of comfort and leisure to burst. He rarely gets the luxury of finding himself in a state like this one so peaceful yet so chaotic. So familiar despite him not having experienced it before. It all feels so natural despite how out of place it is. It’s so many things contradicting each other and it’s beautiful to him. It’s comfort, it’s happiness. It’s the absence of anxiety - a feeling he wants to enjoy for as long as possible. He has Cora to thank for this, for managing in less than a full day of knowing him what people who’ve known him for years haven’t been able to do. He’s aware that this is temporary, this car ride can’t last forever and neither can this outing. But he knows that when they step out of this car, when they leave this bubble, her hand will still be within his reach. And when this hang-out sesh is over, he’ll be able to make another one happen. There is always this big step of overcoming his anxiety he has to face whenever he wants to invite people within his proximity and in his life, but with her, that step disappears. It’s erased from existence by the simple touch of her fingers. The oddly powerful grip of her small, gentle hand. 

Corpse is not one to believe in fate, but there are some things that are inevitable. Things that are special and always happen with a reason and a message. He’s not blind either - he knows what he’s got here, with her, falls in that category of special.

@fockingwhore  @vixenl  @annshit  @wineandionysus

[suntrastar]

time alone with you

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: swearing, some incoherent writing, no smut but a smut-adjacent direction??

summary: “wear me, he almost says, as if sam isn’t right there, as if he isn’t suddenly frozen in the middle of the fucking entryway.”

a/n: i’m currently working on a much longer bucky fic, but here’s a small thing i whipped up while (procrastinating) studying for finals! it’s a mess but who cares! i have yet to write a fic without a bed scene... this is a subtle nod to the fact that i like to sleep... and i will FOREVER romanticize oranges. anyways enjoy! likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

masterlist! ao3!

“Are you ever going to make a move?”

There’s eggshells, but Sam doesn’t mind walking on them. He sounds exasperated in that eager kind of way- yeah, this situation sucks, but something about the tension is just so rough and gritty and good, right?

A flutter of panic rises in his chest, but Bucky shoves it back down, hard. He stops clenching his fists and stops looking at you, trying to shift the right parts of his face to play dumb.

“Make a move on what?”

Curiosity, supposedly genuine. 

In the kitchen, with your back halfway turned, you’re obliviously peeling an orange and wearing earbuds, blasting music so loud that he can hear it all the way from the entryway. Less words and more static, vaguely melodic.

Sam rolls his eyes.

“Her,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world.

After all, you’re right there, and the only person that could even work in this context, and Sam is annoyingly perceptive; he’s bound to have picked up on something. No touches, but maybe the staring. Conversations and the lack thereof.

Maybe Bucky should cut his shit out and just say it. And maybe you should stop being so lovely, and maybe you should stop being so deft with your fingers- he might do something bad. Your hands must be smelling of citrus.

Bucky doesn’t respond. Sam sighs and moves on, slipping further in and clearing his throat louder than a damn vacuum, to make a subtle entrance, of course, and you finally look up and notice them. One earbud is slipped out, one hand is raised in a lazy wave.

You’re wearing a necklace. Thin gold chain, plain and probably fake, glinting like it knows how lucky it is to be sitting there, lucky on your skin, lucky to be dipping into the hollow of your neck- Bucky would switch places in a heartbeat. Wear me, he almost says, as if Sam isn’t right there, as if he isn’t suddenly frozen in the middle of the fucking entryway. 

Color him desperate.

You smile. Still cradling your orange, peel discarded.

“Hey, Bucky,” you say, and you’re looking at him and he thinks he’s sweating. “Long time no see.”

Sam snorts.

Again, Bucky can’t respond. He’s too dumbstruck- it’s hard to look at you right with other people around, when you’re prying your orange apart, when you’re slipping a slice into your mouth fuck.

He’d trade places with the orange, too. He’d trade places with the peel. 

He is definitely sweating.

You lean across the counter, resting your elbows on granite. His mouth is gummy. You’re wearing shorts and he can’t see your legs from where he stands, but he can imagine them perfectly- he curve of your ankle and the backs of your knees and the sides of your thighs, outer traced all the way to inner-

“He’s not saying anything because he’s nervous,” Sam says. He finally finds his snack and shuts the fridge, smiling wider than kids when they put strips of orange peel in front of their teeth. Fucking ridiculous.

“Shut up,” Bucky snaps. 

His voice is dry, grating. You wince. 

Sam does nothing. Again, eggshells.

“Sorry,” he says, in a way that isn’t sorry at all, “I’m heading out.”

“Bye,” you call, almost too fast.

So Sam fucks off to god knows where, skipping the whole way, and Bucky just stands there, awkward gawking and gaping and lovestruck, immobile and feeling like cold water. Like a dumb statue.

You wave for him to come closer. 

He comes closer.

You reach out and he thinks you’re going to touch him, and he thinks that he’s lucky today, too, but you just hand him half of your orange. He might be in shock. 

“Anyways,” you say, with the same cadence that someone might say good riddance, “Are you actually nervous?”

Always.

“Never,” he says.

You pause, slice halfway to your mouth. “Really?”

“Really.”

You lean closer. The dropped earbud skims against the countertop, music still going loud. He’s all alone with you- he could come to the other side and slip it in his own ear and press hard against you, elicit a started laugh, cradle your face and kiss off the taste of-

Footsteps. 

Steve ambles into the kitchen, taking Sam’s near-exact course, stopping at the fridge.

He sees you and smiles, sees Bucky and smiles. You nod at Steve and slip the earbud back in and eat your last slice in silence- and then it’s like it wasn’t shared in the first place. Like you’re just standing there and he’s just standing there and the standing just happened to coincide, and is eventually set to hand, with your hands fruitless and his hands itching.

You wink on your way out.

***

The day turns into a waiting game. Time ticks by at a pace criminally slow, but he grits his teeth and gets through it. Through the drag of each individual second, through the unbearable thoughts. And, of course, because this is just how anticipation works, as soon as the wait is over, the seconds are blurring, and he ends up there all too soon.

Outside your room.

He knocks and you open the door immediately, like you were waiting, too. It shouldn’t be that surprising, but he’s surprised anyway. He always is. 

You stand in the middle of the doorway, already dressed for bed. In pajama pants and a black shirt- his, he realizes, and his heart stutters. The neckline is loose and the fabric is creased and he doesn’t care. 

He steps in fast, nearly slamming the door behind him. You scramble back and laugh. “Nice to see you, too.”

Your room is cluttered and familiar and smells like perfume and you and fresh air- in the summertime, you like to sleep with the windows open. The sky leaks yellow-red-purple and you’re yellow-red-purple, especially pretty when you’re under him. 

He doesn’t know how he gets there. But he’s at the foot of the bed and you’re laying down, atop unwrinkled sheets and a really nice mattress stuffed with whatever they stuff really nice mattresses with, and he waits for you to arrange yourself, and then climbs on top of you.

It’s a practiced balance- pressing, but not pressure. You sigh and he’s so close that he can’t tell where he and you start and end, and his heart is actually rattling in his ribcage, elated and excited and indecisive with his hands- he doesn’t know what he wants to touch first.

They flicker about. Face, chest, neck, thigh, everywhere.

“Somebody’s eager tonight.” You laugh again, breathy and indecent.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he says, almost like a confession. He leans down to kiss you and misses.

He’s so fucking giddy that he misses- ex-assassin, military sniper background be damned- he misses bad. 

The kiss lands somewhere on your cheek. He isn’t suave enough to play something like that off, but you haven’t even noticed- your eyes are closed. He might as well kiss your eyelids, kiss in a circle. Kiss like dancing.

He does. Eyelids, and then skin, and then closer and closer and mouth.

He kisses your mouth and you bring a hand up to the back of his neck, tangling a delightfully harsh hand in his hair, wrapping a leg around his, biting his lip. His hands still; he thinks he might actually die.

The kisses devolve into something sloppy. You taste better than fruit, like mint. He’s cupping your face and you hum low, from the back of your throat all the way down to his bones. There’s some other white noise, traffic from below or the air conditioning or just the blood rushing in his own ears- he can’t make sense of any of it.

“What,” you rasp, and your voice is a shock, delirious and jarring and crystal-clear, “what kind of thoughts?”

Eagerness verges into impatience.

He rucks up your shirt- his shirt, not all the way but high enough. “This kind, sweetheart.”

You gasp when he touches skin, a live wire. “I- fuck, okay. I see.”

You’re trying to keep up, but he’s not done. He trails down to kiss your jaw, your neck. “This kind, baby.”

“Bucky,” you whine.

He wedges a knee in between your legs. “This kind, sugar.”

All the niceties he knows- just dripping, dripping, honeysweet. You’re nearly a shadow as the sun sinks, hazy and dark and indefinite.

You arch further into him, even closer. He presses further into you, running his hands up along your bare sides, stomach and abdomen and above. It’s not quite unleashing, but something akin to it.

A secret in nature, but not in intention. You’re perfect and mellow and never feel the need to throw your arms around him when he walks into a room. And sometimes he does, but he doesn’t think he’s there yet, and that’s okay. It works out, because instead he can come to your room at near-night and kiss you and take his shirt off of you and be as unhinged as he wants.

“Fucking hell, Bucky,” you say, syllables half-slurred. It’s too dark to be certain, but he thinks you shiver.

He’s dizzy when he pauses. You’re blinking like you’ve just woken up, slow and bleary-eyed.  He’s been gripping you, he realizes, hard- slowly, he relaxes his fingers. He leans away from you and rubs your skin and readjusts himself. He’s aching.

“You want me to slow down?” His voice is thick. 

He has trouble recognizing himself when he’s with you. In a good way, though.

Your teeth glitter with your smile. He doesn’t even know where your hands are- not until one curls over his shoulder and the other fists his shirt, yanking him all the way back down. Eyes dark, lights out.

“Don’t even think about it.” 

[3pirouette]

Fic: The Honey Trap (6/?)

Title: The Honey Trap

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :) 

A/N- Again, thanks for your patience. I'm not sure what's going to happen with this story come Steggy Week as I plan on posting something for every day that week, but it's not being abandoned. 

Quite the opposite. Once again, I've managed to write a good chunk of the end before I've finished the middle.At least I know where it's going.

Enjoy!

Chapter Summary: Peggy meets Steve at the Pub, and everything changes.

Chapter 6: With My Life

January 2, 1945, 7PM

Peggy could feel their eyes on her. It wasn’t her normal Hydra handlers she’d spotted weeks ago, but they stuck out to her anyway.

She idly wondered, as she moved through the chilled street, if anyone else noticed people who didn’t belong, or if it was something that caught her eye because of who she was and what she did, just like her Mum could spot rot on the tomatoes two days before the black spots showed up in the garden. It felt like she could always just see things and people who stood out, who didn’t belong, little clues plastered here and there that others didn’t.

The thought kept her occupied, able to keep her face blank as she moved to the pub. It wasn’t the pub Wallace took her to, which thankfully made it just that much harder for the men watching her. With a pub or the equivalent on nearly every corner, London was a haven for a spy like her. She turned the corner, only a block away, and started to review the codes in her head. Words they’d used, phrases they’d said that she might be able to slip into conversation to let him know what she knew. She’d been trying to avoid thinking too much about her cover being blown and what that could potentially mean, but the thoughts still simmered deep in her brain.

It made everything more treacherous.

It made everything just a little more fun.

She’d been feeling that things were going sour, and she could kick herself for not trusting her gut. She’d known for weeks something was off with Wallace, but she’d gone along because she knew she didn’t have all the information.

She was about to, and it gave her a little thrill to know she was going to finally have the upper hand and a chance to use her skills to make a real difference.

As she neared the Pub, she realized this must have been what Steve had felt so long ago: the dancing monkey, left with nothing but the crumbs that others would toss his way, so close yet so far from his goal. She didn’t like the feeling, and suffered a deep pang of regret for him.

The warmth of the pub was a welcome change from the biting cold outside, and she spotted the Hydra agent at the bar with no more than a glance. No, she didn’t care very much for the man at the bar, but rather she cared about the man trying desperately to make himself look smaller in the back corner, dressed in civilian clothes that he must have pieced together from the men at the base based on their ill fit. She moved towards him slowly and sat, working hard to keep her face a blank slate as she took off her coat and slipped it around the chair.

Steve’s jaw twitched with the effort it took to hold back his smile, but she could also tell he was fighting to avoid looking concerned and serious, the downturn of his eyes spoke of the danger she was in. “Peggy,” he whispered, somehow making the word full of excitement and fear and pain all at the same time.

“Steve,” she replied, her voice just as heavy with emotion. She took a deep breath and blinked twice, waiting for his answering double blink before speaking. “You should buy me a drink, or three, just for coming out tonight.”

She saw his eyes dart to his 3 o’clock: the code sent and received. His gaze fell right back to her, and his lip curled up. “I think I knew that all along,” he replied, sounding conversational but letting her know he’d clocked the agent long ago. He sighed and reached out over the small table, taking her hand in his and twining their fingers. “We need to talk about us, Peg.”

Peggy took a moment, acting dramatically. To any bystander, they’d see a woman avoiding the stare of a former lover while still preening her hair and trying to catch his eye. Steve, while appreciative of her form, caught the way she played with her earing for just a second longer, how her fingers covered her lips in what was supposed to look like a moment of indecision. “I just don’t know, Steve.”

He nodded, eyes bright up close, letting her know that he understood: she didn’t know how much they could hear, or if they could read lips. “Are things all that different?” His tone asked a lover if she was still in love with him, but his words enquired about the state of Hydra’s spies.

“I’ve been away,” she answered, “far away, and I just don’t know the answer to that.” She sighed, trying to figure out how to tell him more, how to let him know that Wallace hadn’t just been secretive, he’d shut her out of all the decisions and the planning of what they were doing. It was looking more and more that defecting had been his plan all along.

A waitress stopped by their table, and they spent a moment ordering food that she knew would be dry and tasteless and beer that would be flat and warm. Once upon a time, she and Steve would have remarked about that, talking about all the things they’d do once the war was over, once he could take her to the ballpark and out to see the Brooklyn Bridge, and once she could get a descent full English for breakfast somewhere. Those plans seemed so small now, so inconsequential, but she desperately wished they could talk of them, that they could have just one more minute—

“Remember how we used to talk about after the war?” Steve started, as if he’d read her mind. He squeezed her hand tight, smiling. “When we could have a chance to just… just be people?”

Her breath seemed to slowly deflate from her lungs. It’s was such a simple sentiment, but to know that he shared it, in the face of everything, made her heart pound just a little faster. “It used to be all I held on to, that one day this would be over.” Still do she tapped out furiously on his wrist with her finger in morse code.

He smiled as she tapped, nodding his head, but she could still see how he was coiled tight. They paused again, waiting as the waitress dropped their beers on the table. Steve waited, but didn’t pull his hand from hers. “I want you back, Peg.” He said sharply, eyes and lips tight and serious. “I want you to come back.”

She took a deep breath, knowing things were about to escalate. “I left for a reason, Steve.”

He held her gaze, didn’t even blink as he spoke. “It was a mistake. I know it. You know it. Even Phillips sees that now.”

Peggy pulled back her hand just in time for the waitress to return, their plates in her hands. Peggy busied herself with her napkin in her lap. She finally looked back up when the waitress left. “I think I should stay.”

The corner of his lip turned down. “I didn’t come all the way out here—"

She stopped playing with her napkin and set it back on the table, standing. “I need to go wash my hands.” She stood and started to move past him to the back of the building where the bathrooms were, but he stood and caught her arm. He held her gaze for a long second before leaning forward, his lips covered by her hair to keep the Hydra agent from reading them, his words barely a whisper to be picked up even if there was a microphone somewhere. “I’m here to pull you out.”

Peggy stepped back, eyes flat and serious. “And that’s exactly why I should stay.” She pulled her arm from his grip and moved past him, to the back of the restaurant and the little hall that was out of sight from the rest of the bar.

She slipped into the small bathroom and immediately began to look it over, running her fingers under the sink and checking along the light switch to see if the cover had been tampered with and a bug hidden behind it. She turned over her shoulder as there was a knock on the door. “Peggy!”

She shook her head and nearly laughed at Steve’s theatrics. While he was passable, he certainly was no spy. “Don’t you dare!” She called out, leaning over and running her hand over the back of the toilet. She didn’t find a bug, but immediately shoved both hands under the faucet, turning on the water as hot as she could get it.

Steve remembered enough to at least pretend fighting with the door, though she’d left the lock undone. He slipped in, filling much of the available space, and pressed himself against the back of it, turning the lock with a sift flick of his wrist. Clear? He mouthed.

“As far as I can tell,” Peggy whispered, drying her hands. She took no time in closing the space between them, pressing her lips to his. Steve lifted her from her feet as he deepened the kiss, turning them to press her between the door and his body. “Good lord I’ve missed you,” she whispered against his mouth, her hands running through his hair.

He pulled back, pressing his forehead to hers. “I have to get you out.”

“And that’s exactly why I have to stay.” She gently pressed her hands against his cheeks, pushing his head back. “Quickly- all that you know.”

“Wallace has been pulling information, hiding things. We haven’t gotten one of your communiques in over a month.  Phillips has been suspicious for weeks now, but last week he gave us a false lead on a Hydra camp. It was a set-up and if we hadn’t done our own recon it would have been…” He trailed off shaking his head. He looked back at her, blue eyes sad and pleading. “Whatever he originally told us, it was a lie. He hasn’t been sharing anything of value, and we’re starting to see his name pop up in places it shouldn’t be. We don’t know what he’s trying to lure us into.”

“So, no immediate danger,” Peggy whispered with a smirk.

Steve stepped back, letting her feet touch the ground, hands holding tight at her hips like he wanted to sling her over his shoulder and run for it. “Yes, there is. If he knows he’s been found out—”

“We don’t let him know,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers. “This gives us the upper hand. He thinks he’s in control, but we are.”

“That will make him desperate,” Steve pleaded softly. “Desperate men do desperate things.”

“Desperate men are also stupid and miss things right in front of them.” Peggy leaned up and kissed him softly. “I know how we’re going to do this. And it’s going to be us. You and Me. There’s no one I trust more than you, Steve. Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” he answered without hesitation.

She smiled, running her hand over his cheek. “Then you’re going to go back to the table, and in full view of the Hydra agent wipe that lipstick off your mouth.” Peggy stilled his hand before it got to his lips. “We’re going to have an affair right in front of Hydra, and I’m going to find a way for us to win this war by giving them false information and stealing everything we’re going to need while using that as a cover.”

Steve pressed forward, kissing her desperately and quickly. “I can’t just leave you here.”

“You’re not.” She let her hands run through his hair gently. “You’re trusting me, and we’re going to come out on the other side of this, just like we planned.”

“I’ll take you on a real date,” he whispered, gathering her tight in his arms.

She laughed. “You can date me properly once we’ve finished our affair.” She pulled herself out of his arms. “Now get, I’ll be right behind you.”

He kissed her one last time, deep and intense. He smirked as he pulled away. “How’s this color look on me.”

His joke hit her in such a way that she wasn’t sure if the sound that came out of her was a laugh or a sob, but she had to bite her lip to keep more from erupting. “Go!”

The rest of dinner passed by both too fast and too slow. The codes were done with, the important information exchanged, and what was left was little more than an emotionally and sexually charged date, shared by two people who missed one another but couldn’t do anything about it.

She kept catching his eyes on her lips, and she kept finding herself drawn to his fingers. She couldn’t quite remember eating at all, but the food was tasteless, anyway, and the waitress took their payment far too soon for her tastes.

Peggy bit her thumb, looking at him from across the empty table. She moved as soon as she made the decision, standing and taking his hand, pulling him quickly and decisively out of the pub and around back to hide by the trash cans. She pushed him up against the bricks and he didn’t fight back. Instead, he pulled her to him, curling down to kiss her with all the fire she remembered.

The trash cans around them clattered as they moved, ensuring two things: they were going to be found, and that no one could sneak up on them.

“Quickly,” she whispered, biting at his earlobe, “something that can prove to Hydra I’ll have information but that won’t hurt anyone.” Steve stopped kissing her and pulled his head back. He started to ask her what she meant, but she shook her head. “Now, and loudly.”

She began kissing down his neck and he could do nothing but close his eyes and comply. “There’s an empty allied base six clicks south of the Nazi hold along the French border.”

“We could go there,” she stage-whispered loudly, turning his head to look at just her with her chilled fingers. “Meet there.”

Before he could even think to tell her no, the trash cans to their right clattered. They both turned to see the Hydra operative, eyes wide and surprised that what he thought was a sturdy hideout had collapsed on him. “Just uh…” He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Just gonna take a piss.”

“Take it somewhere else,” Steve replied harshly, holding Peggy tighter to him.

Peggy turned her head away, pretending to try to hide, “afraid” she’d been caught, but she hid her smile against Steve’s chest. She’d seen the man stand and start to follow them long before they’d even been out the door of the bar. If she’d tipped some of the rubbish bins just a little as they’d made their way out, made them just that much easier to push over, well, maybe Hydra should get some better spies.

The agent looked the couple up and down and smirked. Peggy risked a “fearful” glance that lasted just a second too long, a second long enough for the Hydra agent to be able to positively identify her. They stood quietly, listening as his footsteps echoed away.

Steve slowly dropped his forehead to hers, smiling as he whispered. “How did you know he was coming?”

She smiled and pecked his lips, whispering back. “Spy, darling. It’s what I do best.” She interrupted his little chuckle with another kiss. “What’s the base disguised as?”

He shook his head. “It’s not. Just a shell from earlier in the war. Phillips wanted to use it to stage a push forward.”

Peggy snuggled in his embrace, the chilled wind finally breaking through the heat of the moment. “Would Wallace know about it?”

“No,” Steve pulled her coat from where she’d slung it over her arm when they left and wrapped it around her shoulders before cuddling her back close. “Only Phillips and the commandos.”

“Phillips may have my head, but we need a bit of proof of concept here.” She took a deep breath and looked at him seriously. “Tell Phillips that plan is out. I’m going to slip the existence of the base past Wallace in conversation tomorrow. Monitor the base. If Hydra comes running for the empty base, we’ll know we’ve got him hooked.”

“I’m less worried about the hooking and more concerned about the reeling in.” Steve mumbled, rocking them gently. “I don’t like you staying out here.”

“And I don’t like you going off and getting yourself shot at, but here we are.” She pulled back. “Talk to Phillips. Get him to pull in the Commandos and Howard, and anyone else at the SSR he trusts. We’ve got a rogue agent and that’s more dangerous than we were prepared for.”

“If. If I manage to get them on board?” Steve asked cautiously, not even bothering to finish the sentiment. “I was supposed to be bringing you back with me tonight, you know.”

Peggy hummed a sad, frustrated note. “While heading back with you tonight sounds just about the most wonderful thing I could think of, we can’t waste this opportunity.” She smiled up at him, “We engage in a salacious affair, which won’t be difficult as I quite miss you, and we use that to plant what they will believe is real information for Wallace to find.” She kissed him softly. “We get Wallace.” She kissed his cheek. “We get Hydra.” She snuggled herself under his chin. “And we end this damn war so you can take me on a proper date.”

She felt more than heard his chuckle as it rumbled in his chest. “A suit, flowers, and everything as soon as we get leave,” he whispered.

“Until then, we’ll have to set up trysts. Exchange information as best we can.” She sighed. “Without a clear line of communication with everyone, the best I can do is feed him information, I can’t help you create the scenarios.”

“I’ll hold up my end, Peg.” He let his cheek fall against her forehead. “You just stay alive. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“One week from now. Same place, same time.” Steve wasn’t asking, he was telling.

Peggy smiled. “I won’t be late.”

“Don’t you dare.”

[seokiloquy]

Bruised Ink - Kageyama Tobio

Soulmate AU: When you write on your skin it appears in the same spot on your soulmates body

Requested (though I changed it a bit to keep it as canon as possible)

Tags/Warnings: GN!Reader, Kageyama being a bit of an airhead, mild swearing

Word Count: 1.7K+

Art club, morning, lunch, and after school. Though admittedly your art club supervisor / English teacher didn’t enjoy seeing an eager face so early in the morning. She, over a matter of days, had gotten used to your silent presence in the corner of the art room as she worked on papers, occasionally asking for your opinion on a topic. 

“See you after school!” you called down the hall, before waving to your aforementioned supervisor who was talking to the art teacher in the corner.

You flicked your uniform jacket off, letting it hang off the top of a chair as you ran to your canvas. The clean paint brushes waited patiently next to the progressing piece of art and your pallet rested next to them, mummified and waiting to let it’s paints feel the air again. You delicately picked at the tape wrapped around the pallet, pulling it off to reveal the chemical smell of acrylics.

You gazed at your painting for a moment, admiring the contrasting muted colours that blended nicely into the slowly fading background. Taking a brush, no larger than the width of your pinky, you reached for a vibrant green and royal blue, ready to dollop small portions onto your pallet. You huffed through your nose as a clump of blue stuck to your fingers. With no paper towel in sight, you kept your mouth shut and rubbed the paint against the back of your opposite arm. 

“You’re going to stain your skin,” your teacher huffed behind you as she walked to her desk, brushing a free hand through her bob cut. “It looks almost like a bad bruise.”

You sighed, picking up your pallet and brush, gently working the bright teal colour you mixed into the layers of your canvas. “Maybe, but if I’m lucky it’ll be gone before any of the other teachers notice just like every other time.”

She gave you a quirked brow sliding into your spinning chair that was tucked into the corner of the room. She grabbed a pen with one hand and sipped on her coffee mug with the other. “What do you mean by that?”

You laughed. “Every time I doodle, draw, paint, or just anything on my skin whatsoever, it’s gone before I see it again.” 

“So your soulmate’s washing it off before class?” she hummed, turning her eyes away from your blocked-out painting and onto the sheets before her.

“I don’t have a tattoo or a red string, so most likely, ya. They probably don’t want to get in trouble. Or maybe they’re in a swim club and don’t even notice it?”

Chuckling she looked up but kept her head down, gifting you the sight of a mischievous look. “Or they could be sweating it all off.”

“How often does a person sweat to get rid of that much ink on a daily basis?”

“There are some dedicated athletes out there.” She shrugged, rubbing the golden tattoo on the back of her hand. “Then again, all soulmate connections are a bit different.

Humming, you turned back to your painting that leaned against the wall. “What are you working on this morning, Ms. Ono?”

Behind you, a page flipped followed by a groan. “First-year English.”

“First-year? I thought you taught second-year English?”

“I did for Sugawara’s class, but I usually teach the first-year.”

You pushed your brush into the canvas a little harder. “Damn, I thought I would get to be in your class.”

“Sorry, kiddo, but you wouldn’t be in my English class anyway. But your Japanese is improving!”

You huffed through your nose. “I’d hope so, the Sugawara’s really aren’t giving me a break.” You studied your canvas and took a step back, looking at how the light bounced off the surface and made the teal look with the less saturated colours.

“Good on them.”

“Don’t encourage it!”

“Kageyama, what happened to your arm?”

The boy’s grown out bowl cut swished as he flipped his arms around turning his head in search before eventually finding the offending colour that had spread into his skin. Twisting his arm, he gave the colour an indecisive look, before poking it his index finger. “Must be a bruise. Probably smacked it when we were setting up the net. Doesn’t hurt though. So hurry up, let’s get started.”

“Why does everyone have to get to school so early,” Sugawara mumbled to himself, pushing the door to the gym open as he ruffled his hair. He spoke louder, “Tanaka, can’t you stop these two?”

“Sorry, dude. But I’m having fun with this. Why are you here so early anyway?”

Sugawara sat down in the doorway, changing his shoes and rolling off his uniform pants to reveal his loose shorts for practice. “(Y/N) has been coming to school early to paint. And my parents said ‘they’ll get lost, you go too’ instead of ‘no, sleep a little longer.’” 

Tanaka huffed through his nose, “Has (L/N) been settling in well?”

“Oh ya. Eichi loves the new company. But now I have to keep up with essentially two siblings instead of one and these two idiots.” The silver-haired boy yawned as he gestured at the two first years that yelled at each other while throwing balls into the air.

Tanaka gets out a gruff chuckle before running into the centre of the gym to join the duo with endless energy.

“Gone again,” you mumbled as you slowly packed up the bento box that Koushi’s mom had prepared for you.

Your arm, which had been covered in paint stains and ink marks across the whole colour spectrum, had been wiped clean. No doubt the work of your soulmate and whatever activity they partook in during their free time. 

Grumbling, you took out your white ink pen and doodled a subtle frowning face on the inner crease of your wrist.

Ms. Ono rose from her seat, patting away invisible dirt that clung to her dark pencil skirt as the warning bell sounded through the speaker system. “Alright, (L/N). I have a class to teach, out you get.” She shuffled hat stacked papers in her hand, pausing for a moment as a look of realization was thrown onto her face. “Oh and, there won’t be art club this evening, so tell the other members too.”

“What? but that’s the best part of my day!”

“Sorry, (L/N) but I can’t be in here all the time.”

You whined, following the English teacher out of the room. Mr. Sato, the art head, walked into the paint-filled classroom as you left. You both gave him a friendly nod, before continuing with your conversation. “What can I do then? I’m not allowed to go home alone.”

Ms. Ono hummed, “Why don’t you sit in on Sugawara’s volleyball practice, you can use it as a figure study and sketch in your notebook.”

“I guess that’s not a bad idea.”

“Well, there you go. Alright, get, to class or you’ll be late.” She stepped into her sunlit classroom, walking straight for her desk with clicking heels.

You left the entryway of class 1-1’s homeroom and started making your way down the hall to your own room in class 1-4. As you weaved through the crowded hall of first years you kept your head up, looking for the nearest tunnel of space, only to get locked against the wall staring into the eyes of an intense schoolmate you were unaware of.

“Uh sorry,” you mumbled, looking away from his pinched brow and sharp eyes that only held your gaze for a moment.

He raised a brow, looking down the hall behind you to his classroom. Saying nothing, he huffed and schooled his expression. Placing the opposite hand on your shoulder, he spun your body to be behind him, switching locations, and continued down the hall. You watched his flat black hair bounce as he turned into class 1-3’s room.

“Well, isn’t he sweaty,” you mumbled to yourself as you made the last few steps into your classroom.

“Koushi, Koushi, Koushi. Are you sure it’s okay for me to sit in?”

“Just don’t encourage any foolishness and it should be fine. We still have to practice.”

You nodded, following your homestay as he led you to his club’s gym, rambling about his teammates.

“Ah, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi? They’re in my class. I didn’t know they played volleyball.”

“Do you talk to them?”

“No sir, I do not think Tsukishima's intimidating.”

Sugawara led you to the side where their manager stood, speaking with one of the teachers you had seen running around the school, you bowed silently as Sugawara quickly gave an introduction and ran off to change his shoes and clothes.

The group had an easy time ignoring your presence as you sat on the metal bench, flipping coloured pens between your fingers. Rough doodles filled the page as messily scribbled outlines took the form of the players you saw before you. Some were stretched out in the air while others dove to the ground in elegant swoops. 

Your pen skidded across the paper.

“Damn,” you muttered, lifting the tip and forcing it into the papers again. Nothing.

Twirling the ink-filled tool between your fingers you shifted the sketchbook off your lap and taking the pen to the surface of your skin.

The ink skidded, leaving uneven marks in an indecipherable pattern along the surface of your skin before running dry. You reached for another pen, only for the result to repeat. You grabbed another, and another. The pattern continued, pushing and pulling, dragging the fine tips as they slowly began to cover the entire surface of the back of your hand in every colour including your white ink, which luckily still worked fine and contrasted brilliantly with the muddied mess on your hand.

You huffed out a quiet cheer of success, finding that a majority of your pens worked fine, and placed the forgotten book back into your lap, coloured pages ready to be drawn over with your trusty series of pens.

“Yo, Kageyama. Is that another bruise?”

God this one is vague as hell but I didn’t have to brainpower to make it any more decipherable. 

It was originally requested that the reader be Sugawara’s little sibling but he only canonically has a little brother, not everyone physically looks like Sugawara, and the adoption trope is meh to me. So I went with a foreign exchange student that is being housed by his family. (if you couldn’t tell)

This au, in particular, is very hard because we try to keep our character (being Y/N) physically ambiguous for the purpose of allowing everybody to enjoy reading it. This au very much panders to those with lighter skin, so I apologize if I didn’t make it as open as I could’ve and please let me know if there are ways I can make this sort of au better. I want everyone to enjoy reading them and not feel excluded.

That’s all, and I hope everyone is healthy and safe. - Bacon

Posted: 06/12/2020

[luffles424]

Lucidity (7)

☼ Pairing: BTS x reader (no pairing this chapter)

☼ Genre: vampire!BTS, succubus!reader, smut, fluff, angst

☼ Count: 4K

☼ Warnings: mentions of death (minor character), mentions of past trauma, blood, violence (there’s a physical fight at the end), depictions of injuries

☼ Summary: You’ve spent years jumping from country to country, starting countless new lives. Crafting new lives is as easy as breathing for you, lies flowing easily and people are charmed with a simple bat of your eyes. When you meet a witch who offers the idea of opening a supernatural club, using your powers combined with hers to ensure safety to those who enter, you decide to join her in an adventure that is entirely new to you. But your new life in Seoul is drastically changed when you’re forced to face something you’ve spent centuries hiding from. But just because you might be running for your life again doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun along the way, right?

☼ a/n: I’m sorry, this is like, all angst but with all different people lmao but we getting to some truths 👀👀 But is it the whole truth? 🤔🤔 As always, let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

Yoongi has only just sat back in his chair for a moment when there’s a knock at the door. He wants to laugh that you’ve already had to come back, probably just because you forgot something but he’s definitely going to take the opportunity to tease you about it. He stands and makes his way to the door, tugging it open with a grin and a quip about you missing his cock already on the tip of his tongue, a remark that very quickly dies before it can even leave his mouth. The smile quickly drops from his face when instead of you, he’s met with Hoseok. 

He swallows, something like dread settling in his belly. He thinks he manages a weak smile. “Oh, hey Hobi. What’s up?”

Hoseok frowns, eyes searching Yoongi’s face. Yoongi’s not sure what he’s looking for but it seems like he doesn’t find it. Instead, he pushes past Yoongi and into the studio, nose wrinkling as he does so, it probably reeks of sex. He gives Yoongi a look that’s full of accusation. 

“Why?”

Yoongi flounders, he wonders if he could claim it was someone else. Hoseok would see through that lie. How much did Hoseok hear? See? “Why what?”

“Don’t play dumb Yoongi. I saw her leaving.” He looks so hurt, like this was a personal slight against him. “You claim to be Namjoon’s best friend. And yet here you are, fucking the one person, the only person ever, that he’s told us to stay away from. Why would you do this to him?”

Yoongi feels indignation rise in him at the accusation that he’s somehow betrayed Namjoon. This is nothing like betrayal, this is just… working with the information at his disposal. “Excuse me? Whatever Namjoon’s issue with her is, is entirely his problem. If she were a serious threat, she would’ve been dealt with by someone already. You don’t get to live for centuries being a shitty person who puts our existences at risk.”

“That’s bullshit and weak and you know it. Namjoon’s problem with her is all of our problems with her. We’re together for a reason. We’re a family.”

“If that’s true then why won’t he tell us what she did, huh? Don’t you think it’s weird that he won’t say anything about it? Namjoon’s never held information from us like this before.”

Hoseok sighs. “You know he has his reasons-”

“Yeah, reasons that he won’t share!”

Hoseok blinks at Yoongi’s outburst and Yoongi looks just as surprised. He doesn’t understand why he’s getting so worked up, but something about this whole situation digs under his skin. 

“Are you seriously defending her over Namjoon?” Hoseok asks incredulously, like that’s the only conclusion to draw from his behavior. 

Yoongi’s jaw works. “I’m not defending anyone. I’m simply pointing out the flaws in this blind belief in him. We’ve been around long enough to be able to think for ourselves. We’re not children. Not by a long shot anymore.”

Hoseok shakes his head in disappointment and pulls his phone out. “I’m sorry Yoongi, but I’ve got to tell him.”

Yoongi feels panicked as he stares at Hoseok’s phone. He wasn’t sure who he was more worried for, you or himself. “Hobi, please. Don’t do that.”

Hoseok hesitates for a few moments, something unreadable crossing his face before he’s pressing Namjoon’s contact name. “I’m sorry Yoongi.” He says as he walks out. 

Nothing happens for a couple of days after that. Yoongi’s on edge the whole time. He tried to hole up in his studio but your scent lingered and it made his chest ache that he could possibly be putting you in danger. When Namjoon finally arrives back home, he calls a meeting. He doesn’t look angry and that sets Yoongi even more on edge, Namjoon’s default setting regarding you seemed to be rage, but right now he seems calm and collected. The others look confused as well, exchanging looks as they all sit around the table and wait for Namjoon to begin. The only time they have meetings in the dining room like this is when they’re having serious talks, but nobody can recall anything major that happened recently. Nothing that would warrant a dining room conversation. 

Namjoon stands at the head of the table, waiting as Hoseok finally enters, the last to arrive. He takes a seat across from Yoongi. 

“Thanks for coming home a little early from breaks. Hoseok said that we needed to have an emergency meeting.” A murmur ripples through the boys and Namjoon sits down. 

Hoseok stands and Yoongi shoots him a look, trying his best to communicate how bad of an idea this was. Praying his hardest that Hoseok doesn’t do this. Hoseok stares at the table. The others are quiet as they wait for him to speak. 

“Yes… Um… I know this will be hard to talk about…” He trails off, looking at Yoongi. Yoongi can see the indecision written across his face, he has no idea what Hoseok might say next. “I think it best benefits the group to know what your problem with that succubus is… with Y/n. Seoul is a big place, but it’s not that big for supernatural folks. We’re bound to run into her at some point. We deserve to know what to look out for so that we can protect ourselves.”

Yoongi only gets a moment to breathe a sigh of relief before the atmosphere of the room plummets. Namjoon’s face turns hard and Hoseok shrinks under his gaze. 

“You think you know better than me about what’s best for the group?”

Hoseok doesn’t reply, head ducked like a child being reprimanded so Yoongi speaks for him. It’s the least he can do after Hoseok just covered for him. “Joonie, that’s not what he’s saying at all. He’s just saying that we can be better prepared for anything if we know what we need to look out for.”

Namjoon’s gaze snaps to him but Yoongi doesn’t let him intimidate him. He’s tired of being left in the dark like this. They deserve to know. “All you need to know is that she’s dangerous and you need to stay away.”

Jin pipes up. “That doesn’t tell us anything. In what way is she dangerous? Is it a matter of her using her powers against us? Will she use other people to do her bidding? Joon, if we don’t know, we can’t stop it.”

Yoongi hadn’t expected further support but he’s incredibly grateful for it. He doesn’t think he could’ve gotten through to Namjoon alone. “We just want to help you keep us safe. But you need to keep us informed too.”

The rest voice their agreement. All eyes turn to Namjoon. He looks a little like a cornered animal, like he’s trying to calculate an escape route. His gaze darts around to each of them like if he stares at them enough, they’ll back down. When the tense atmosphere doesn’t shift, Namjoon sighs in defeat. 

“Fine. But I’m only going to give you just enough so that you see how dangerous she is. You don’t need to know everything.” Namjoon remains quiet for a long moment, gaze far off. “We knew each other when we were young. Like very young, less than 100. We had… another friend, Jaeho. He was a vampire too. We spent a lot of time together. She…” Namjoon looks like he’s about to cry and Yoongi reaches out to place his hand over Namjoon’s. Namjoon gives him a pained smile. “She drained him. Not enough to kill him, that would’ve been too kind. She drained him just enough to turn him feral. He ran to the nearest village and caused a rampage. The local werewolf clan put him down.” 

Namjoon lets out a bitter laugh. “That’s not even the worst fucking part. When I confronted her, she had the audacity to act like it wasn’t her fault. Then she ran. I hadn’t seen her since until we saw her at the cafe.”

The room is silent when Namjoon finishes his story. No one knows what to say, emotions high as everyone tries to pair this version of you with what they personally know. Yoongi swallows, squeezes Namjoon’s hand. He should be the primary focus right now, pained as he is at the relived memories.

“Thank you for telling us, Joon.”

Namjoon shrugs in indifference and pushes himself up. He looks tired. “I hope you see now why I said to stay away. She’ll cause you nothing but pain.” With that he leaves the room.

You regret being at this cafe already. The ominous text from Jin and Yoongi about wanting to meet here was enough to have you on edge. The fact that they messaged you together is further proof that you shouldn’t be here. As far as you knew, they didn’t know that the other was seeing you too. Which means that something made them talk about you. And nothing good seems like it can come from that. Just like how nothing good comes from this place. 

Your phone pings and you look down to see a text from Ari.

Ari: Someone just stopped by looking for you again? Said you were supposed to work today?

You frown. No one knew you were working tonight because you didn’t tell anyone. It was only written in the office on the calendar. And even so, you switched with Ari to have this meeting. Even more perplexing is the only people you can think of that would be looking for you there, are the ones who are going to be meeting you here very soon.

Ari: She said she’d catch you some other time. 

You’re even more confused by that. Who could possibly be looking for you right now? But your musings of your mystery person are interrupted by the seats around you being pulled out as Jin, Jungkook, Jimin, and Yoongi all take a seat. They all look tense and your heart feels like it’s in your throat. 

“Wow, you boys must be pretty desperate if you wanna have a go all together.” You attempt to joke but there’s no reaction. You clear your throat awkwardly. “Right, no jokes then, got it. Well, what did you call me here for if not that?”

“Why did you pull away from us like that?” Jungkook blurts. 

Jin smacks his arm. “You idiot, that’s not what we were going for.”

Jungkook glares at him. “I don’t care. I want to know.” He turns back to you, face set in determination. It makes guilt well up in you. “I want to know why. And don’t give me that you needed time shit, we all know that was a lie.”

You don’t think you can do this. You don’t know what they’ve come for, but whatever it is it’ll be painful. Your gaze darts around, looking for a way out. 

“Please…” Jungkook’s voice cracks. 

“You don’t need to answer that.” Yoongi shoots Jungkook a look when he goes to speak again. “That’s not why we came.”

You chew your lip, alarm bells ringing in your head. “Then why?”

“What happened between you and Namjoon?” 

You should’ve known this was coming. It was always bound to happen. There was no way they’d continue when being torn between you and Namjoon. They were bound to get too curious sooner or later. You give a shrug of feigned indifference. “We’ve crossed paths before. You know how it goes sometimes.”

None of them look like they buy it. “But what happened? I’ve never seen Joon act like that with anyone.” Yoongi presses.

“You can’t tell me you’ve never met someone you just didn’t like.” You can feel the panic rising. This isn’t good. 

“Yes, but not with him. He sees the best in everybody. Why are you different?” Jimin this time.

You shrug helplessly. “Must’ve caught him on a bad day then.”

“What happened when you were young?” Jin says, then freezes as his own words register.

You stare at him with wide eyes. How did he know when you knew Namjoon? You glance at the others and they’re all giving Jin a dirty look. They knew. They all knew. Namjoon must’ve finally broken down and told them what happened. You blink away tears that are suddenly threatening to spill. You don’t even know why they bothered to want to meet you then. To tell you in person how terrible you are? How they want nothing to do with you and wish they’d listened to Namjoon in the first place? You feel like you're going to be sick. 

You stand abruptly, your chair scraps against the concrete but you don’t hear it. You can’t hear anything over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. The boys all look concerned. And you can’t stand the thought of seeing their faces morphed with hate the way Namjoon’s was. The way it still is.  

You do what you do best, you run. 

Your days are rough after that, time blurs together as you try your hardest to keep it together. You hate how much the boys had managed to put themselves into your life, even after you tried to keep them at arm’s length. They slipped in and filled every little crack and crevice and you hadn’t even realized until it was too late. They were too rooted in your life to easily rip out. You hate how lonely you feel without one of them around. You get texts from them every so often. They take turns texting you; they all sit unread. You can’t even imagine what terrible things they might be saying. 

Ari has noticed the difference too. You’re at the club more than you used to be, even before you met the boys. But as much as you try to throw yourself into the club atmosphere, the people here just do nothing for you anymore. It’s a poor replacement for Jungkook’s adorable smile, Jin’s laugh, the way Jimin clung to whoever was closest, Yoongi’s quiet way of caring. You sometimes wonder how Yoongi would’ve fit in with the other 3 if they’d all known about each other before. Before you pushed them away. Before Namjoon told them and ruined whatever idea they had of you. It makes your heart ache.

You know you can’t blame him. But after all these years, it still hurts. You’re really not sure what to do. Your apartment is half packed, not that you usually travel with that much anyway. You seriously think moving will be best, but you just can’t force yourself to do it yet. You know Ari is fully capable of running this place though, if you were to go. And you’ve got the money to be able to stop back in when she needs it. Ari’s been dating a siren, she’ll have capable help around after you leave. And you can easily work remotely.

You stare at the wall of your office. You can feel the beat from the main part of the club. The joy it used to bring you feels like acid in your chest. You wish the night would hurry up so you could go home and curl up in Jungkook’s sweater. It doesn’t smell like him anymore but the small amount of comfort it brings is still there. You wish you could tell him that you understand why he wore it on long trips. 

You zone out until your closing bartender knocks at the door. You blink at him, a little startled that you don’t hear music anymore. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. He gives you a small smile and holds the cash drawer out to you. 

“Everything’s all cleaned up. You just gotta do the drawer.” 

You smile as you take it from him. “Thanks, D. You’re free to clock out and head home now.”

He thanks you and leaves. You set about finishing everything up, shutting the lights off and heading for the exit. You’re locking the door when you feel someone else in the small back lot with you. You’d assume it was Namjoon again, the scenario almost identical. Except when you focus a little more, you realize it’s not a vampire with you but a werewolf. 

Worse, you know this wolf. You whip around, keys clutched tightly in your hand as you search the shadows for her, heart beating wildly. This can’t be happening. Not now, not again. She doesn’t remain hidden for long, stepping out into the small pool of illumination from the sole light source in the alley lot. 

“Y/n. I finally caught you.” Her grin is malicious.

You swallow. “Taria.” You don’t know what else to say. You don’t know why she was here. You thought you were done with her after everything that happened. 

She pouts mockingly. “Aw, is that all you’ve got to say to me? We have so much to catch up on don’t you think?” She takes a step towards you and your back slams against the building as you try to keep as much distance between you, trapped. Fear claws at your throat, looks like Namjoon might not have to worry about you for too long. “Like how the fuck you’re still alive.”

Your mind races, dozens of half ideas forming before you discard them. There’s no way you can take her in a fight, you’re strong but werewolves far outpower you and you haven’t fed recently. Your gaze drops to her hands, covered in gloves and tucked into the sleeves of the turtleneck she wears. Fuck, how did she know to cover her skin. You can’t do anything helpful if you can’t touch her skin. 

She seems to be reading your assessment, adjusting the glove with a gleeful smirk. “Ah, yes. I know your little tricks, you whore. I’ve had lots of time to plan this out.” She starts walking slowly towards you. “You have no idea how thrilled I was when I heard your name again while visiting a friend here.”

Your gaze darts around the lot, empty and far too late for anyone to happen to pass by right now. You side step, trying to keep some distance between the two of you. She’s effectively trapped you here. She laughs.

“I should’ve finished you off to begin with. Who knew that little fucking vampire would be weak enough to just let you go.” She scoffs in disgust. “But it’s okay. I’m gonna have some fun now.”

You try to come up with a plan. There has to be something you can do. Something you can do to get out of here. Shaking your head, you push the memories of the past away. You can’t afford to think about them and the emotions that threaten to overwhelm you right now; you just need to get out of here. You know you can’t outrun her either. 

You’re going to have to fight her, at least a little bit. Enough to either incapacitate her or to get a way to touch her and knock her out. You should’ve taken more self defense classes. You know enough that while you can’t overpower her, you are definitely more agile than her and that will be your biggest strength here if you want to make it out of this. Sudden panic of what she might do to Namjoon for letting you go, for not taking care of her problem like she clearly planned for has you more worried for him than for you. You have to make it out of this. You have to lead her away from the city. If she’s too busy chasing you, then she’ll leave him alone. He’ll be safe.

With the vaguest plan possible, you tuck your keys away, shaking your hands out to prepare for her to make the first move. 

She wastes no time, lunging at you and you quickly duck under her arm, using her own momentum to push her face first into the wall you were just standing against. There’s a crunch. You dart a few steps away as she lets out a furious roar. She turns, eyes wild and glowing and blood dripping from her already healed nose. She comes for you again, this time low and you have no hope for dodging as her shoulder slams into your gut, knocking the breath from you as she forces you to the ground.

She rises to her knees above your prone form, fist connecting solidly to your jaw. You squirm beneath her, adrenaline pumping as you scramble for anything that might help as she lands another punch. Your hand finally finds a large chunk of loose concert, ripping it completely free even as the jagged edges tear at the skin of your fingers. You lift it, slamming it to the side of her head with all the supernatural strength you can possibly manage. 

She slumps off of you and you don’t even wait for her to fully fall before you’re flipping over and pushing yourself up to run. 

You make it two steps before your hair is grabbed and you’re pulled back against her once again. “Aw, you couldn’t possibly have thought it’d be that easy?”

Her other hand reaches up to wrap around your throat and you claw uselessly at her hand as she begins to constrict your breathing. You pull at her shirt, black ringing your vision when you get an idea. You tug frantically at the sleeve, trying to remain coordinated enough to pull her sleeve from her glove and expose the skin of her forearm. 

She seems to realize your plan because as soon as the sleeze is tugged free, she throws you to the ground, sending you sliding a few feet away from her. You gasp, trying to regain your breath as you shakily push yourself back to your feet. Your arm and thigh burn where the rough ground scrapped against you. You feel blood trickling down, leaving your side wet and sticky. Your throat feels raw and you can already tell there’s bruises there ringing it. Your cheek feels swollen and there’s something dripping down your cheek and you can’t tell if it’s blood from your skin splitting or tears. 

You can’t keep up for too long. Your body is already beginning to use your energy to heal and if you let it get too far then you’ll have no hope of getting away. Taria casually fixes her sleeve, the perfect picture of nonplussed aside from the blood that trickles from her nose and temple. She looks at you with disdain. 

You have no choice but move to the offensive. You have to try to do something to get the upper hand, to give you a chance to get away. You rush her. You have no idea what you hope to accomplish with this, but you’re getting desperate and out of ideas. She pushes you away easily, like swatting at a bug, and sends you sprawling onto your back once again. She steps up to you, giving you a good kick to the ribs before she leans over you. She reaches out to choke you again and you’re too tired to do more than feebly grab at her arms. 

You cough and gag, blood dripping from the corner of your mouth. You may as well give up. Your energy is basically at its end and she still looks completely unphased. You can’t do anything. Your vision is narrowing and you belatedly realize there is maybe one last thing you could do. Something that might save you, something that she forgot to cover. You steady yourself, gathering all of the power you can in you and quickly reach up to touch her face. She doesn’t seem to realize what’s happening right away but the second she does, it’s already too late. You release all your energy in one big burst and Taria instantly loses consciousness, collapsing on top of you.

You lie there for a moment beneath her, feeling a little delirious that it actually worked. Then panic because you don’t know how long it will work, you were nowhere near powered enough to do it for long. You manage to drag yourself out from beneath her, taking a moment to catch your breath once you’re upright before you’re quickly running away. 

[sylvie-writes]

Summer Heat

Summary: in which the reader and her husband Andy go for a nice bike ride amidst the summer heat.

I’m making this a headcanon (My 1st at that) bc I have zero inspo atm

yeah, there is a shameful self-promotion in here if you see it. 

kinda unedited, so plz pardon any mistakes

Labor Day was right around the corner, signaling the ending of summer. Soon you’d be going back to work and now was the only time you could spend with your husband.

The weather was an enjoyable 70 degrees, perfect for a bike ride. One that Andy had suggested last night over dinner. 

“And tomorrow’s high will be 73 degrees, ideal weather folks!” The meteorologist then tuned off for a commercial break as you turned your attention from the tv to Andy. You could see the gears sharply turning in his head, pensive, as he mindlessly picked at the chicken. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about babe?” Reaching across the table you lightly tapped Andy’s resting hand, his head popping up from his daydream.

“Huh? Oh!” Your words replayed in his head as he hadn’t heard them in the first place. “We should go for a bike ride tomorrow. Ya know before work starts, just you and me.” 

Andy looked up to you and held your hand that was once gently laying on his. A winsome smile stretched across his face. 

“Sounds like a plan, bestie.” Happy with your answer, Andy resumed his dinner, you getting up for some salad. 

For the bike ride, you wore some light denim shorts and a simple cantaloupe colored t-shirt, Andy wearing a red short-sleeve button down and grey shorts. 

While Andy removed the bikes from the racks in the garage, you situated two water bottles and both of your wallets and cell phones. 

Upon entering the garage, you stopped dead in your tracks to see Andy lifting your cruiser bicycle off of the rack, his shirt practically hermetically sealed around his arms, the buttons struggling to hold on. Once your bike was down, he went to grab his own, watching you out of the corner of his eye, making sure his movements were slow. 

The two of you always goofed around, whether that be making jokes or just teasing each other. 

“Muscle, baby, muscle.” Walking by, you dropped Andy’s water bottle into the holder, then tapping on his biceps as he laughed deep within his gut. Before you could walk away, his arms caught your waist, spun you around and pressed a short yet sweet kiss to your lips. 

Once the two of you had your things together, Andy closed the garage while you pulled out your phone, playing a Spotify playlist that you shared with your husband, a hodgepodge of many songs. 

Starting out on the street in your neighborhood, you realized there wasn't a plan for the day.

“Hey ‘Drew, where are we going exactly?”

The two of you rode side by side, making it much easier to communicate and keep track of the other. 

“Into town! I was thinking, ice cream!” A devious grin grew onto his face. Andy knew you wouldn’t say no and that’s exactly what happened. 

Turning out of your neighborhood and onto the sidewalk, your phone suddenly switching from “Don’t Stop Believing” to “Wannabe.” 

Visibly you cringed and shook your head, about to change the song suddenly noticing Andy... attempting to dance while biking, singing along to the words.

“C’mon babe! Sing along!” You laughed at your husband’s puerility. 

Ever the ham, Andy was doing this to embarrass you, to which your giggles would most definitely erupt. Your nervous habit. 

The man really didn’t care if any of yours or his friends drove by, you were his wife, someone he could be a total goober around. 

Finally you caved in and joined him.

“If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give.”

Eventually after a couple of nostalgic songs, you both made it into town and at the ice cream parlor. 

A bike rack was cemented out front of the shop, convenient for you and Andy to lock the bikes up there. 

Walking into the ice cream parlor, you both were met with a rush of cold air, or maybe it was just cold because you had been biking for quite some time now. 

“Hello.. Oh! Hi! Mr. & Mrs. Barber what can I get you?” The young girl’s personality lit up once she saw your faces. Everyone in the town of Newton pretty much knew who your husband was, also making you just as known. 

Returning a friendly smile to the girl, you ordered three scoops of mint chip, your’s and Andy’s favorite ever since college. (As mentioned here hehe) 

Taking two spoons, you sat at the table where Andy happily eyed the stack of ice cream sitting in the bowl in front of him. Handing him the spoon, you giggled as he immediately dug into the mint chip, looking at you utterly confused.

Mouthful of ice cream your man-child answered…

“Wut?” 

Some ice cream dripped down his bearded chin and you quickly reached for the napkin, dabbing his chin and dramatically sighing. 

“Why have a child when I have to take care of you?” 

Removing your hand from his face, Andy just shrugged his shoulders going back to mining through the ice cream scoops. 

Exiting the parlor, stomachs full, your arm was wrapped in Andy’s as you strolled to the bikes. Just as Andy was about to unlatch the bikes, you stopped him. 

Looking across the street you pointed to the little dress shop, the displays in the window shining from the afternoon sun.

“I need a dress for that charity dinner, that may I remind you, is the one you are dragging me to!” 

Andy’s work was hosting a gala for an extension on one of the buildings. 

You didn’t want to go, but your husband had to be there. Of course he didn’t want to show up either, yet he’d rather suffer with you and your jocular complaining, there to entertain him. 

Compliant with your request, you both crossed the street and entered the boutique, many rows of handmade dresses lining the aisles. 

Andy picked out two dresses while you already had two of your own in hand. Gladly, you took his picks and headed straight for the dressing room, a bench in front of it so you could showcase. 

The first dress was a dusty rose, A-Line, asymmetrical chiffon evening dress. It’s three-quarter sleeves, stopped directly at the elbow, perfect for the upcoming fall weather. 

The party was the first week of October but you wanted to get this shopping over with now. 

The second dress, Andy had picked out. A burgundy floor length gown, tank sleeves and a v-neck that was stunning. Along the left leg, a slit that ran up to your knee, presenting your legs and your future choice of heels. 

When showing that dress to Andy he looked up from his phone, absolutely stunned. You were always able to take away his breath, as cheesy as it sounds. 

The third dress, a navy blue maxi dress. Long lace sleeves that were surprisingly comfortable. 

And finally, the fourth dress. A grey cold shoulder midi dress, with some lace on the chest. 

All of the dresses Andy loved, which really didn’t help. You specifically brought him along for his opinion. 

So maybe you were a little indecisive on your own… 

After a few minutes of debating, you received an answer.

“I love the burgundy one.” 

And you agreed with him. 

At the counter, Andy fought you to buy the dress to which you stubbornly replied that you’d buy it yourself. 

It was a running game in your marriage. The two of you would always “fight” over who would pay. 

“Just save us from the knock-down drag-out and let me pay!” 

You both were really too good for each other, but in the best way possible. 

The lady at the shop had politely offered to hold the dress so you could come back and get it tailored tomorrow. Very helpful since you only had bicycles as the chosen mode of transportation.

By the time you had finished dress shopping, it was already time for dinner, the ice cream dissipating and no longer able to quench your hunger. 

The bicycles were still latched to the rack as you and Andy sat on the bench beside it.

“You hungry?” You nodded and Andy pulled out his phone looking for places to eat, you doing the same. 

Ten minutes later, Andy had found a pizza parlor about 3 miles away, an easy bike ride for you both. 

The pizza parlor chosen was your typical family-run restaurant, simple yet delicious food. 

After being seated, the two of you were starving, so hungry that when the waiter came for drink orders, you also put in the pizza order. 

For the twenty minutes that ensued, you and Andy shared a basket of bread, making conversation about work and such. 

When the pizza showed up on the table, it was like a saint had arrived. Your empty stomachs figuratively thanked you both at the first bite of pizza. 

Like ravenous animals, you both scarfed down at least two slices in a matter of minutes. Pausing, Andy looked at you and you did the same. 

Setting the pizza down, the two of you just started laughing at your messy guzzling, pizza sauce on both of your faces. 

The people around you were probably confused at your sudden outbursts. Then again who cares? 

Once again, you wiped Andy’s face, him doing the same to you. As you wiped the sauce from his beard, Andy caught your hand and kissed your wedding ring.

“You truly are my best friend, (y/n). I don’t deserve you.” 

Andy was most certainly your best friend and you his. 

Eeekkk im literally screaming. I looove andy. Sorry for the crappy writing, yet thanks for sticking through it.

[potatotrash0]

Your DR magic AU, hand it over 🤲

Okay I have two other anons and I’m just gonna split the character ideas among the three asks. I don’t quite have a plot thought out, and most of these characters’ concepts have only existed in my head up until now...bare with me skdjksjfkd

Mm I talked about them briefly in Prom’s ask? But here’s a more in-depth thing of the THH fighting styles.

Makoto is a mage-type. (I used fighter, support, and mage to describe the various adventurer types it’s temporary just roll with it) Again, he can’t really hold magic for very long? He’s got a large mana reserve but it’s hard to activate and harder to control, so he’s currently working on mastering the little bullets. In the future, I imagine large barrages of bullets would sort of circle around him like they would in the barrel of a gun.

He probably got in accidentally? I’m not entirely sure about this, but I think there’s an entrance exam for Reserve Courses and he was probably forced in on Komaru’s behalf for some reason.

He was basically running the entire time until the very end when he panicked and suddenly the entire field was wiped clean from him waving his arm. HPA saw that, decided that he was worth training, and put him into the Main Course. He doesn’t feel very good about getting in that way, but HPA isn’t exactly empathetic like he is. Again this is like one of three ways I think he could’ve gotten in with the rest of the cast because I’m indecisive skdjsjf

Kyoko is another mage-type, in general the Main Gangs of each game have various themes. THH’s trio has a magic theme, they all use magic. She doesn’t use a weapon, though I’m thinking her gloves act as a limiter of sorts?

As a general rule, more mana means less control, and being half-demon gives her a lot of it. Her gloves help her regulate her mana output so that she doesn’t use too much of it when attacking and tire herself out. Later in the timeline, I imagine there might be a scene where she takes them off and fights off some enemies to buy the rest of the class time to escape something? She would get trapped in the process, but I think this would happen after she’s worked with Makoto for a while and she would trust him enough to believe he would come back for her if she didn’t return.

Oh this isn’t related to her fighting style but on the topic of her being half-demon, that’s mainly because I thought it was boring for everyone to be human and I’m a big sucker for fantasy species so yeah. She’s a cambion.

She has purple-tinted skin, horns that curl up and are fairly close to her head, a thin pointed tail, pointed ears, her pupils are slitted, she’s got carnivore-style teeth, her nails are longer and sharper by default. Whenever she uses the full extent of her magic, her scleras turn dark purple and her irises turn white. Oh yeah her scars came from an accident she had when she was young where her magic got out of control and burned her hands. Her mom’s the demon by the way, for no particular reason, I just thought that the Kirigiris would stay human in this and I don’t know anything about her mom’s side of the family.

I just realized I never said Makoto’s race skdjks he’s human!! He and Komaru just happen to be a special case and have a lot of mana. Most other humans in this AU aren’t so lucky. (cough hinata cough cough)

Byakuya, again, uses magic. He’s the only one who uses a weapon in the Trio, he uses a staff specially made by the Togami family. He also knows how to use a sword and a bow.

I haven’t put too much thought into him, but I know for a fact that his adventuring outfit would have a big sweeping cape later in the timeline. In the beginning though, he just has a stupid expensive suit. The cape comes in later as he, Kyoko, and Makoto start to group up more and more.

I’ve decided that adventurers in this AU group up just as often as they go solo, and while Byakuya would initially be solo, he would deem Makoto and Kyoko strong enough to work with whenever they’re taking on a difficult job.

Groups would change to have matching designs the longer they’re partnered up, and capes/cloaks happen to be the THH Trio’s Thing, as in all three of them would have a cape/cloak of some sort. Byakuya because he’s pretentious, Makoto because he thinks it looks cool, and Kyoko because she uses the cloak for practical reasons like storing things and keeping a low profile when needed. Oh and Byakuya’s bloodline is of royal elven descent, their business is selling spellbooks, runestones, potions, reagents, any magical item you could think of.

Sayaka is a half-siren mage! She mostly uses charm and illusionary magic, as well as healing so that she can support her allies. Later on, she might learn water magic so she can actually deal damage as well. I haven’t decided on her weapon of choice, perhaps she uses a lyre or casts spells from a book. I’m also debating having her learn hand-to-hand combat instead of water magic?

I just like the idea of someone coming up and trying to challenge her, thinking they’ll beat her easily, and barely getting a hit in before she kicks their legs out from under them and tosses them over her shoulder like they weigh nothing. She deserves to take out people twice her size and be menacing, as a treat for the amount of disrespect she gets in the fandom. And I want her to take Leon down a peg because he definitely acts a little like a cocky frat boy sometimes.

Speaking of Leon, we’ve got our first fighter-type!!! I could have him use a baseball bat but that’s boring so I’m thinking he might utilize items as well as a weapon? Bombs or grenades that look like a baseball and explode on impact, baseballs that ignite when thrown and act as fire balls. Alas, I don’t think about him much so this is all just me throwing ideas to see what sticks.

Whatever the case, the main thing I know would happen is that he frequently gets help from Kazuichi and Miu because he just cannot for the life of him stop breaking his equipment. He’s reckless and rushes into battle and now that he doesn’t have Kanon to stop him from setting stuff on fire all the time, he gets detention a lot. (And no she isn’t into him like in canon, I refuse to acknowledge that she ever was.)

Chihiro......they can’t fight djfjsjfjjf. They specialize in making tech and weapons, and in the beginning, would mainly use robots that they programmed to support their allies. Though, they do end up training with Mondo, Sakura, and Aoi to help them become better at combat, and eventually they join everyone else on the front lines as a ranged fighter/support type.

Also, the robots would kinda follow them around like pets. Cute little guys that can also shoot lasers. The robots are powered by mana crystals and each one has a different personality and magic type! Sometimes they follow around different people, the electric one took a liking to Mondo and you’ll see it floating around while he works out. They’re buds.

On the topic of Mondo, he’s another fighter-type! He’s more hand-to-hand combat. A controlled berserker, if you will. Probably started out fighting guys in his hometown and progressed to clearing out monsters when Daiya got concerned about his temper? Perhaps. Maybe. I do not think about Daiya I apologize.

Oh wait hold on. I’m looking at his character art and he’s got a hammer.........it’s decided he uses a warhammer, the biggest one they’ve got, and it’s probably a mana-based weapon. Specifically electric. He and that lil robot wipe the battlefield with their opponents >:D

Taka is probably a fighter-type? I can’t for the life of me find where I read this, but apparently he’s really good at self-defense so I imagine he does hand-to-hand combat as well as sword-fighting for the Noble Paladin Aesthetic.

Hifumi was originally a mage-type, but upon second thought, I’m making him a support-type who uses items and potions and stuff! I like the idea of him making fun little bottles and potions themed after his favorite animes and mangas..........he also definitely helped everyone design their adventurer outfits. He’s the only reason that Makoto’s outfit isn’t boring as hell.

Celeste is, of course, a mage-type. She’s Miss Lolita of course I have to make her an ethereal magic user alright also I love her and I love mages let me have this skfjdkjf. As for her weapon, my first thought was her having playing cards that she throws HxH style?

Or she could summon goons to fight for her, playing into the whole loyal servant dream she has. They would be vaguely themed after the cards, so there would be a jack, king, queen, and joker, all of different magic types depending on the suit of the card she throws. Electric for a spade, fire for a heart, ice for a diamond, something along those lines.

I’m also considering having her little...finger armor thing? I’m thinking of having that cross into her magic, where she attacks with claw-like things formed out of mana. Of course she could also just. Use the cards to cast spells directly skdjksjfkhf

Sakura is definitely a fighter-type. Again, hand-to-hand style, but I imagine she’s more controlled and strategic than Mondo. I can’t see her using a weapon, so I guess she’s like one of the only characters to fight exclusively with fists.

Mukuro’s a ranged fighter-type, but she can also do melee. She uses magic-based guns, ones that shoot mana infused bullets. They have a variety of effects depending on the type of bullet and magic. (I’m not a gun person so take this with a grain of salt.)

Bullets that break apart might be laced with electric magic so that they can shock a target from several points, or fire magic if she’s aiming to start a fire quickly. Exploding bullets are usually used with fire magic, but she might switch to ice if she wants to create a barrage of ice shards for...some reason, I don’t know. There’s more combinations I could probably make, but I’m. Not here to spend an hour researching guns. Not right now at least, who knows what I’ll want info on in the future.

Mmmmmm I’m starting to lose patience here so forgive me for the shorter explanations. I might throw in a fun fact about them for ✨ flavor ✨

Junko’s a fighter/mage-type! She uses a scythe and laces the blade with magic. She could combine it with fire magic to create a flaming scythe and go nuts with it, or she could just channel general mana and slam the blade into the ground to create a big crack in the ground.

There’s about an 80% chance she gets several weapons later in the timeline. Her scythe, a spear, possibly a gun. Monokuma probably exists, I like to think Junko ran into a smarter monster and tamed it and kept it as a slightly feral pet.

Also, yes, she’s still a big adrenaline junkie who gets off on despair. If you see her fighting things she knows are out of her league, mind your business.....actually, call someone to help before she gets herself killed. Please.

I haven’t decided what Aoi will be just yet? I’m veering towards fighter/mage-type, she could use water magic and maybe a leg-based fighting style. Possibly judo or taekwondo. I.....do not have any ideas for her. However I do know that she and Sakura would have a bunch of combo moves together dkfjkejfkdjjd

Toko is a mage-type! She probably uses a book to cast spells from. Or just uses her hands. She would fight ranged, I don’t think she’d want to be up in the action. Too much stress for her, y’know? I

As for Syo, she fight differently than Toko! She technically uses dual swords, but the swords can also connect to create a giant pair of scissors. Again, this is just sort of a fun character thing, but she gets to hate Byakuya in this AU. They have arguments and get on each other’s nerves a lot, but I think the rest of the class usually separates them before anything serious happens.

At some point after Toko befriends Komaru, I like to think that Syo gets a proper fight scene with Byakuya where she rips into him. I don’t think Toko would want to hurt anyone though, even him, so Syo would probably leave him with a few minor cuts at most.

Afterwards, I think Byakuya would quiet down with the insults with Naegi and Kyoko’s requests. (Well. Naegi asked him to try and be nicer because he was worried that they might fight again. Kyoko just bluntly told him that he needed to stop being a jerk and start considering everyone else’s feelings.)

Skfksjfkdh ah. I also like to think Komaru and Toko were initially partnered up by HPA for a job. They were assigned to deal with a couple of school kids wreaking havoc on a nearby city with some monsters they semi-tamed?

But after finishing the job, they decided to partner up permanently on their own. They probably have a few combo moves that Komaru came up with, Toko tweaked them to make them actually possible with their skill set and weapons.

Hiro is...possibly a mage/support-type? He’s probably a bit cowardly and freaks out when on the front lines, but he can use a crystal ball to attack from afar. I’m also considering giving him tarot cards so that he can toss them and attack from several points at once?

Or the ball could shatter at some point during the story and he could just roll with it and spread the shards out during battle to attack from several points at once. They could also be used to create a magic cage of sorts, like electric fence but only electricity.

Okay that’s everybody oh my god. I have plenty more stuff about this au, this isn’t even half of it trust me lmao. I’m sorry about this being so long I didn’t realize it’d be this wordy!!!!!

[mattzerella-sticks]

Checkmate (Castiel-centric, Chuck & Cas, Castiel/Dean Winchester coda to 15x17 “Unity” and 15x18 “Despair, 1.9k)

ao3 link

Billie saves Jack from suffering a fatal end from her plan, and knowing Jack was safe gave Cas space to focus on his own troubles. Nearly losing his son again... revelations from Chuck... choices Dean made, were set on, until Sam broke through at the last minute - too close - they all were...

It was too much. Cas needed to digest these roiling experiences away from faces it hurt to look at. Except he stumbles exactly where Chuck wants him. After countless times praying for guidance, Chuck finally decides now is perfect for a long-awaited heart-to-heart.

           Cas abandoned the others once Billie disappeared, not even waiting for her form to fade before striding away. Stomps up each step, ignoring Dean’s calls as he races from their home. Into fresher air aboveground. Being an angel, Cas was inexperienced with breathing. Yet, instinctually, Cas gasps for breath once he breaks free.

           Hunched over the outdoor railing, Cas’s vision blurs. Darkness encroaching at a pace that makes him shiver. “That’s not…” he hisses, sinking lower, crouching. “It’s not real. It can’t… there’s a deal. They were very clear –“

           “C’mon Castiel, you should know by now…” A familiar voice breaks through static, Cas’s grip tightening on the rusted rail. “This close to the end, anything goes.”

           Cas turns his head, meeting Chuck’s deriding glare. “You’re still here?”

           “I’m everywhere Castiel,” he mocks, arms spread wide and head tilted backwards. Laughing, “I’m God.”

           Briefly, Cas considers shouting. Alerting the others that Chuck hadn’t gone far, nearer than they figured. Except Chuck’s head lolls around once more, clearly expecting Cas to do exactly that. His jaw tenses, Cas rising on shaky legs. “What do you want?”

           “Loaded question. I want a lot of things… Amara’s power – but I got that.” His eyes flicker, blue and black, before fading into their regular hazel. “This world to end… close. I could wait fifty more years but let’s speed it up, honestly. You and your family to suffer…” He grins, advancing towards him. “How is Jack doing?”

           “He’s fine,” Cas tells Chuck, “but you already know that. Don’t you?”

           “Guilty.”

           “Then why ask?” Cas glares at his creator, mustering enough fury that he trembles from an entirely new reason. “Did you stick around only to gloat? Is that what it takes to get you to show up?”

           “Oh Castiel…” Chuck grabs his chin, pinching it. Sparks jumping off his finger pads and searing his skin, Cas wincing when Chuck doesn’t let go. “You’re not bitter that I never returned your calls, right?”

           Chest aching, Cas tamps down that hurt. Accustomed to doing so. “But you received them?”

           “I hear each and everyone.”

           “And you do nothing.”

           “I only help those that deserve it.” He shoves Cas away, spinning on his heel. Gestures around them, “No one on this Earth – in this universe – deserves it. Ungrateful sacks of filth and – and mud. Imperfect, flawed…”

           “Beautiful.” Cas defends them on instinct, stepping forward. “Humanity might be all of that, but it doesn’t make them any less deserving of life. Of a second chance.”

           “Humanity…” He laughs again, to a joke Cas must have missed. Wiping a false tear, Chuck leers at him, “Really? Does humanity deserve a second chance? Is it even a second chance anymore?” Then, with a disturbing amount of severity laced through his voice. “How many more chances are you going to give Dean?”

           Chuck’s hand rests over his heart, closing the distance between blinks. Claws at Cas’s chest, clutching onto him. Cas stares above his creator’s head, resolutely not giving Chuck what he wants. Hiding sadness and longing they both can feel rippling across their bodies, warmth abnormal given this cooler climate.

           “You’re always giving so much of yourself to him,” Chuck whispers, prodding. Breath felt as he rasped in his ear. “Isn’t it tiring? Disappointing he doesn’t do the same?”

           Cas swallows the immediate thoughts that emerge. Those traitorous voices expressing similar sentiment, nasally and grating like them. His shadowed future. He answers, instead, with, “I will always do whatever it takes to keep my family safe.”

           Groaning, Chuck knocks his head against Cas’s shoulder. Repeatedly, harder and harder. Each swing whacking at his cool façade. “Love!” he bemoans, “Your love for humans, your love for him. How I hate – why does it all come down to Dean.” His hand trails upwards, snaking over Cas’s tie. Chuck steps backwards, dragging Cas along. Forcing him onto his knees. “Sam, I get. They’re brothers… sentimentality. They’ve been through the wringer longer than every other Earth, of course it’d be harder breaking that. Too mature, set in their routines… And Amara, she was finding herself. Dean was a passing fancy – entertainment, nothing more. But you…” Bending, Chuck presses his face onto Cas’s. Close enough he sees lightning flashing within his pupils. “Your little defect, your crush… this is all your fault.”

           “I…” Chuck’s eyes glow, his throat seizing as this greater being chokes him. Cas fights past it, coughing. “It’s… yours.”

           “No, it’s not. Really.” He stops, dropping him. Cas scrabbles into a crouch, warily observing Chuck circle. Arm raised defensively; angel blade prepped in case of another attack. Useless, given the comparison of power, but he refuses to sit and accept his death. Not like this. Luckily rather than smite Cas, Chuck wastes time prattling. “I tied everything up in a neat, little bow. Sure… took longer to get there, edits and rewrites of course, but the story was done. Brothers battle, one dies, close the book and move on. Raphael was supposed to raze this stage for the next show… until someone called for an encore.”

           Cas startles, guard slipping momentarily. “Wait… you wanted Raphael to restart the apocalypse?”

           “Yes!” Chuck yells, thunder booming in the distance. “It should have been Michael! But what do I find when I check in? Sam back, Dean hunting again, and you balancing an angelic civil war while pining for a man who was better off without you.”

           Those reminders threaten Cas, like tentacles rising from dark ocean waters ready to drag him under. Deeper into his past mistakes. Cas grounds himself, scraping the dirt. Feels it. “My part was done,” he challenges, “Over. Lucifer blew me into tiny particles. Untraceable. You brought me back.”

           “Because how else would I have gotten Dean out of that damned cemetery!” Chuck kicks a rock. It rockets through the sky. “If I’d left him there alone, he’d be as good as dead. Where’s the satisfaction in that? All you had to do was dust Dean off and send him on his way. Couldn’t even do something simple without screwing it up!”

           Cas glares at his creator, shouldering the burden of his disappointment, straining under its massive weight. He does not fall, however. “And all the other times?” he asks. He’s not sure if he wants to hear his answer. Worse, that indecision is a damned lie.

           Chuck grins. His simple act knocking Cas onto his rear, overwhelmed by its cruelty. “And let you off the hook for beating this dead horse? Not a chance. If the Leviathans blew you up, you’d never suffer through the fallout from betraying Dean – the man you did everything for. A hero’s sacrifice, staying behind in Purgatory? For penance? You don’t decide your fate – I do! And it was perfect. Hope, Castiel. All that hope you had… for Jack, a better world, a chance to raise a kid alongside the others. Experience those wonders, find a new purpose – dashed with a simple knife through your chest. The last thing you saw being Dean as his heart shattered, and he broke. That playing on a loop while you slumber for infinity in the Empty – now that was an ending!”

           As an angel, Cas doesn’t sleep. Can’t dream and cannot have nightmares. In moments of peace, sitting alone in his room at night. Bathed in darkness… that memory strikes. Quick, cutting in its ruthless appearance. Sets him to his feet, light on and blade drawn. Watching shadows shrink in their retreat.

           Chuck continues, angrier by the second. “You would have stayed there too, this time. Dean, Dean prayed. Every night that I would bring you back. Instant voicemail.” Cas frowns, distracted from past trauma by this new information. Dean never sharing this. “Except I was too focused on your demise I wrote myself into another problem – again, because of you!”

           “Jack.”

           “You just… you make me so mad! Castiel, you gotta – you gotta understand, I mean…” Chuck wipes at his cheek, palm lingering there while their gazes meet. “You’re an angel. A – uh… a simple worker bee. A drone. I’m the queen! You shouldn’t be able to do this, it’s – what is it about you? Was it this world – did I… help me make it make sense!”

           Righteous fury seizing, oozing out the cracks of his very being, Cas stands. “You want to know what happened?” he says, seething, “I finally saw what was important. Grand battles, ultimate power… they’re all meaningless if you are alone. Unloved. My time here has taught me…” Those words feel awkward on his tongue, incorrect. He switches, answering honestly. “Dean showed me that.”

           “He sure did show that…” Chuck huffs, rocking on his heels. Smugly enjoying Cas’s defiance. “It sure didn’t include you.”

           Chuck twists his hand in the wound. The very reason Cas fled, Dean’s statement ringing in his head. ‘I’d trade all of them for the chance to kill Chuck.’ Their heated, silent exchange during that brief pause. Communicating as best they could. Still, Dean gave into his fears. Chomped at the bit Chuck dangled. Choosing what Cas prayed he’d never.

           All for nothing.

           “Is that why you’re here?” Cas asks, “kill me one last time? Take me off the board because I’m not important to the story?”

           “How I wish that were true, Castiel. How I wish that were true.” He steeples his fingers, drifting into the surrounding forest. “You’ve got a part to play in this. Something big. A set up for the final battle… that’ll bring all the pieces I need onto the board.”

           “Except for me?”

           “I’ve learned from my first draft,” he says, “not to let surprises derail the story I want to write. You, you… you are nothing but surprising.”

           Cas scowls, fists balled at his sides. “And you being here? Sharing this with me? Is that part of your story?”

           Chuckling, Chuck wags his finger from side to side. “Let’s just say I’m… making things up as I go along.” Cas stiffens, hearing his own words used against him. “Wanted one last chat with you before you drown back in that slimehole.”

           “So it’s soon?” Chuck’s lips thin, stretched closed. Restraint crumbles, Cas leaping forward. “Tell me what you’ve planned -!”

           He’s thrown onto his back, a hand around his neck. Chuck expressionless while he struggles, looking almost bored. “Nothing, Castiel,” he says, “I have nothing planned.”

           “Liar!” he hisses, “You said that I –“

           Chuck talks over him, “It’s the truth! I didn’t plan anything… the only one to blame is you, Castiel. Like always, you are the architect of your own misery.” Cas freezes, body rebelling. Flames of hatred snuffed with a cold breeze. “Not like anything I could’ve written would have sticked anyway, we both know this. But your deal… I didn’t make you do that. You have no one to blame for your doom but yourself.” He releases Cas, wiping his hands on his pants. Sneering at Cas like he was garbage, but smaller. Gum Chuck wiped off his shirt, but worse. A bug under a magnifying glass while the sun shone brightly above, except more pitiful. “It’ll be nice to sit back and enjoy for once… so put on a good show, Cas. Really push Dean into doing something dumb and suicidal when you’re gone. Sell it! Make it count – it’ll be your last.”

           Chuck vanishes, leaving Cas there. On the ground, physically. Mentally, spiritually, he’s adrift in the unknown. Floating towards an ending he always knew waited for him. An ending that he chose.

           Or did he? If every other option was stolen from him, was it truly his choice? Cas certainly wouldn’t pick this. Years from now, after his loved ones have shuffled off, at peace with a life well lived – that’s the ending he would write. Being welcomed into his perfect heaven with gentle green eyes, freckles, and a dimpled smile.

           He stays like that for longer than he realized. Sam finds him, asks if he’s okay.

           Cas lies because, like with the Empty, it’s the only choice he has.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Decryption_Error: “Out of Reach”

Summary: Mr. Robot protects Elliot when Y/N pushes too hard; she’s left to wonder if she’ll ever see the man she fell in love with again.  

A/N: My tech lingo is gibberish—don’t @ me, tech peeps, unless you want to rewrite my dialogue because that would be super cool 🙃

Decryption_Error: All Chapters

Word Count: 4000

Tags: @sherlollydramoine​ @rami-malek-trash​​ @teamwolf2411 @limabein​ @txmel​​ @alottanothing​ @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging​ @moon-stars-soul​​ @free-rami​ @ramimedley​ @hopplessdreamer​ @sweet-charmie @polarcrystall​​ @hah0106​ @clumsybookworm18​

Warnings: ANGST, shouting, aggressive posturing and grabbing/hurting (let me know if I need to warn for anything else)

It was the second Monday of March which meant it was time for a monthly status report. This was one of the hundreds of meetings I attended in which I usually had a razor-sharp focus because this was the part of my job I missed. I missed having a direct role in operations, subverting attempts at data breaches, and working on scripts that would improve day to day operations.

I looked around the table and my eyes settled on the new Senior Manager, although I guess I couldn’t call him “new” anymore. Tim Millner-Brown had already weathered three anonymous hacks and managed to keep everything (and everyone) calm.

Since Dad retired in January and this was now considered a transitory time, it was all the more important operations ran without hiccups. I fixed my gaze on JaLeah, then switched to Ali as he began to speak about a new script to assess WiFi network vulnerabilities. As I listened, my mind flashed back to the meeting Colin and I had with Ali to reprimand him and a wave of disgust prickled through me. I swore to Elliot that his attackers would pay, but here was Ali, confident and happy, leading Elliot’s team.

Tim interrupted Ali, asking, “Why can’t a two-way handshake be enough? Less connections, less chance for an attack?”

Ali was quiet before he said, “Let’s get Alderson to explain. He’s leading the work on the new script.”

Jayne returned after a few moments, Elliot following her like he had been summoned into the principal’s office. He scanned the room, his eyes lingering on mine until I gave him a quick smile, reassuring him he was here to do what he did best.

Tim redirected his question to Elliot who thought for a moment before clarifying, “A three-way handshake is necessary to avoid half-connections. If one ISN changes their mind and doesn’t want to connect, the server doesn’t see the re-sent SYN so it thinks the ISN got its ACK and the connection was established, but it wasn’t—it won’t ever be closed. If we can cut the time it takes for the GTK to associate with a device, we can cut the time a hacker has to gain an access point.

“Without compromising data flow,” he added.

This was not the same Elliot who was ready to quit a year ago rather than give a presentation. I felt a swell of pride at how far he had come, the confidence he had gained. All he needed was someone to believe in him and to push him. And along with my swell of pride came a surge of anger as an image of Elliot, blacked out and bleeding in a broken server room, flashed through my mind.

“Tim, work with Elliot to determine how much time he needs, then work with Ali to find out how much that time will cost. I want a report by Wednesday. And if everything adds up, you can start on Friday—or should we make it Monday so as not to infringe on anyone’s weekend plans?”

My eyes never wavered from Ali’s face as I watched it pale, but from my peripheral vision, I could also see Elliot’s eyes widen. Then, Miles’ voice echoed through my mind on the day I was forced to appoint Ali as Colin’s replacement: You bet the house, and you lost.

But as long as I was in charge, Ali would know I’d never forget what he did. And in that moment, I wanted Elliot to know I hadn’t forgotten either. Never mind that the secret I was keeping from him was burning a hole in my stomach, pushing me to feel even more protective of Elliot than usual.

JaLeah smirked, but she played the placater better than anyone. She peppered Elliot with questions, then Tim dismissed everyone so he and I could go over his analytics.

“Thanks, Elliot,” I said, as he left the room, his lips turning up in a soft smile.

“The two of you are dating?” Tim asked as soon as the door shut.

I raised my eyebrow and turned to look at him.

“Yes?”

“So, it’s not against company policy to date someone you supervise?”

“Elliot and I were in a sort of unique circumstance. We signed a contract with HR, but I ended up being promoted almost immediately afterward, which eliminated the direct conflict.”

“Hmm,” Tim said as his fingers tapped on the folder in front of him.

“Why?”

“JaLeah is . . . well, she’s—”

“Say no more. Obviously I’m a proponent of shooting your shot in the workplace, but Elliot and I were sure to be super transparent about it. And that’s all the advice you’re getting from me. If you want to know if she’s interested, ask her.”

Tim smiled, and I felt like I saw him as a person for the first time instead of just as my replacement.

“And I would be happy to take over her evaluations in the event she is interested.”

Tim’s smile grew a bit wider and he thanked me, twice, before we dove into the data.

It was close to lunch time when Tim and I finished, so I sought out Elliot to see if he wanted to go out. As I walked toward his workstation, he was oblivious to the world, his eyes glued to the screen and his shoulders almost perfectly still despite the furious pace at which I knew his fingers were moving over the keyboard. A pang of guilt resurfaced for the thousandth time this month as I reminded myself I needed to make a decision about what I discovered.

Since I found the grand jury’s testimony, I had been conducting some “research” on my own. All 23 members of the jury, even the one who had voted not to indict, had been receiving the same amount of money for the past 13 years: 2,500 a month.

All 23 people claimed the money on their tax returns, but in 23 different ways—gas leases, oil leases, rental properties, gifts, renting their parking spot in the city, tips, bonuses, and on and on. It was clear someone had met with them and told them exactly how to keep this money under the radar. And if someone met with them to lay out the process for receiving money, then there had to be evidence of that meeting—or that person.

A part of me was dying to share this with Elliot, but another part of me was adamantly against it, afraid of what I would unleash within him if he was given the opportunity to pursue vengeance. My mind kept returning to who he was on the night of Dad’s party and wondering if I could trust that part of Elliot, that part who seemed ready to do something a lot more rash than scratch an itch or even just file a lawsuit. There was a part of Elliot, hell, there were still so many parts of him I didn’t know, didn’t understand.

What I did understand was that every time I looked at him, I felt guilty. And when Elliot’s eyes glanced up and noticed me, he stopped and smiled, a sweet, open grin and Miles’ words flickered through my mind again.

You bet the house, and you lost.

* * * * *

Time has a funny way of making decisions for you, especially if you’ve been riddled by indecision. Once enough time has passed, the control is going to be taken from you—the decision will be made for you, rather than by you.

By the end of March, something uncomfortable had settled between Elliot and me. He was growing distant, closed off, and I stopped working to maintain our open line of communication. The more guilty I felt about hiding the grand jury transcript, the less I wanted to see him. I knew I needed to tell him, but if I had found out about the juror payoffs, Elliot would be able to, and in half the time.

And everything could lead back to my father.

And something deep inside of me knew he knew—I didn’t know the how or the what, but I was certain he knew I was hiding something.

It was after 10:00 pm on a Thursday night when I got home from a dinner party, a business meeting disguised as a social gathering, something I never invited Elliot to anymore after his vitriolic rant.

I was more than surprised to find Elliot sitting on the floor near the balcony, the door open as a wet March wind blew in, smoking a cigarette as nearly half a pack of butts were already stubbed out in the ashtray I knew had been empty.

He was drinking a beer and he was clad entirely in black, topped off with his well-worn hoody, which was something I hadn’t seen on him in a long time.

His hood was up, probably to fight off the chill of the wind, but I wasn’t sure if the explanation was so simple tonight.

“Hey,” I said softly as I pushed the door shut behind me. “I told you I had a thing tonight, didn’t I?”

Elliot nodded yes, as his lips wrapped around the end of his cigarette.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, dread settling over me like a weighted blanket as I watched him take a long drag, the cherry flaring red in the dim light of my apartment.

I slid out of my coat and hung it up on the rack before reaching down to unzip my boots. As I kicked them off, I waited for Elliot to answer. I was tired and wanted nothing more than to change out of my clothes, maybe shower away the day, and go to bed.

Except the smarter part of me knew that wasn’t going to happen and filled me with a sudden desire to just  get this over with—just blow the lid off the box and let the scraps settle so we could get back to our normal.

But that would require fixing Elliot’s biggest flaw: his inability to move forward because he never really addressed the root of his problems.

I watched as he stubbed out his cigarette and tipped his beer back, finishing the last swallow.

I sighed in frustration.

“Either tell me what this,” I said as I gesticulated to and around him, “is all about or let me go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Where were you?”

I blinked, irritated because we just went over this.

“I told you where I was—at a dinner party. You know, those things I don’t invite you to anymore because you hate everyone?”

Elliot stood, reaching back to slide the balcony door shut. He didn’t take his hood down as he walked to the kitchen sink and rinsed out his bottle before setting it on the counter next to the others.

Chalk that up to something else out of character; Elliot never drank alone.

“You’re lying to me,” he said quietly, his back still turned.

“About the dinner?”

“No. Maybe? How am I supposed to know when you’re the one who’s always lying?”

“I can’t do this,” I said, running a shaky hand through my hair.

“You can’t do this?” Elliot said, his voice rising as he turned around. “You’re the one keeping things from me!” he shouted, his eyebrows raised, making his eyes look impossibly huge, and the cords on his neck standing out as he pointed his finger at me.

“How did you find out?” I asked quietly as I leaned on the counter, looking at the swirled pattern within the granite, unable to meet what was surely an intense gaze.

“I’ve been waiting, Y/N. Waiting for over a fucking month, wondering why you wanted to hide it from me. Wondering what else you decided not to tell me. Wondering if everything you have told me is just a way for you to manipulate me—”

My head shot up, my eyes finding his instantly as I asked, “Why would I want to manipulate you?”

Elliot didn’t answer; his eyes were dark, a stormy grey as they swirled with clouds of emotion. He felt betrayed, and I watched as his eyes settled on my tote that was sitting on the kitchen stool.

“You saw the transcript,” I said with a sad sigh. “You weren’t supposed to find out like that.”

I lowered my gaze back to the granite of the countertop, a strange relief pushing off that weighted blanket of dread. No more hiding. No more agonizing over whether to tell him.

The silence that followed my realization was dreadful, stretching out until my ears rang and my eyes blurred as I stared at the countertop.

“I can’t trust you anymore,” Elliot said, his voice cracking.

But that was the wrong thing to say. My nostrils flared as a thick, white-hot anger rose up in my throat like bile.

“You! You can’t trust me because I withheld something from you? Once! When have I ever done anything like this in our entire relationship?” I questioned, my voice bordering on shrill, so unlike my usual tone that it didn’t even sound like my own voice.

“You’ve broken promises.”

“When?”

“After the server room. You promised me ‘the fucking assholes’ would lose their jobs. And now one of them is my supervisor.”

I stared at Elliot dumbly until he dropped his gaze, leaning back onto the counter.

“We talked about that,” I said, my tone a few octaves closer to normal. “I offered to refuse to promote Ali. You told me things like that happen—it’s a part of the way to ‘enact change.’ You told me not to fight back against his promotion.”

“You promised,” Elliot mumbled, his knuckles growing white as his grip tightened on the countertop.

Once again, Elliot said the wrong thing. If this was all he could come up with, I was livid. Every thing he did that I had to work to let go of, to not make a big deal over, every hurt I had to swallow because I loved him, came rushing out.

“And how many promises have you broken to me? Fuck, Elliot! Not even promises. How many times have you bailed on me? Hacked me? Hurt me?

“No,” I scoffed, “You never meant to do it, but you fucking did do it. I have been so patient with you—”

“I’m not a child!” Elliot interrupted through clenched teeth.

“You’re pissed at me for something you told me to do!”

“I told you to withhold information about my dad’s death?”

“I needed time, Elliot. I needed to analyze the risk—”

“I’m not a piece of fucking data, Y/N! You can’t—” Elliot paused as he pushed off the counter and stepped toward the island. “You can’t analyze me. You can’t predict my next move or maybe that’s the problem? Maybe that’s what you’ve been doing all along? Manipulating me because you think you’re smarter than me.”

“That is not what I meant,” I said, my brows drawn and my mouth closing into a frown.

“You begged me to trust you and I knew—I fucking knew someone like you couldn’t be trusted!”

“Someone like me?” I shouted back, pushing away from the counter and marching around the island to stand in front of him. “Someone like ME? Surely you’re not going to throw Dad’s money in my face again. You’re starting to sound like a broken fucking record!

“You know what—no,” I said, shaking my head and turning away from him pacing to the balcony door before turning around and slowly walking back toward Elliot. “You don’t get to do this and get away with it this time. I can’t walk on eggshells while you get to be shitty to me whenever you have a bad time. Don’t you want to know why you’re like this? Don’t you want to know why you’re so paranoid, why you push away people who fucking love you? Don’t you want to know why you don’t trust anyone?”

I was a breath away from him as he began to withdrawal further and further into himself. And because I was watching his face, my eyes desperately pleading with him to see reason, I saw the change—Elliot looked away, seemingly in exasperation, and his eyelids fluttered so subtly that if I had blinked at that very moment, I would have missed it.  

When he looked back at me, Elliot Alderson was gone; now, I was met with the steel gaze of the same person who had demanded I leave Elliot alone as he sat on the floor of my closet during the Fourth of July.

I took a step back, my mouth dropping open as fear rushed through my body, my eyes filling with tears as I realized I was afraid of him—afraid of Elliot.

“You should be afraid, little girl,” he chuckled darkly, his voice low, the intonation different. “Now get the fuck out of here and leave him alone.”

“You’re—you’re in my apartment,” I stammered, still clinging to anger despite my fear.

He looked around, remembering, and he fixed a glare at me, his eyes unwelcoming as his jaw clenched, the muscles twitching before he moved toward the front door.

As I watched him walk away, my anger and fear turned to desperation. Darlene’s words rang through my mind, ‘If he bails on you, tries to push you away, it’s not really him.’”

It’s not really him.

“Stop—Elli—whoever you are! Please. Don’t go,” I pleaded. “Stay. Talk to me. Help me understand.”

He paused, his head turning to slightly look over his shoulder before he moved toward the front door again. I raced to it and wedged myself between him and the door, placing my hand over the knob.

“Stay,” I begged. “Don’t leave like this. After everything—please don’t leave us like this. I want to help you, Elliot—if you’re in there, come back to me.”

His hands flew up and slammed into the door on either side of my head.

I jumped, flinching as he leaned into me, his lips beside my ear as he growled, “I fucking warned you!”

“During the Fourth. I remember,” I whispered.

He pulled back and looked at me with those icy eyes.

“That was the first time you pushed too hard, came too close. I can’t allow you to do that, sweetheart. Elliot’s had enough time with you. It ends now,” he said as he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me away from the door.

I grabbed his arm and he shook me off, but I grabbed him again and pulled him back enough to allow me to wedge myself against the door again.

“I told you,” he yelled, his voice harsh and unrecognizable. “I can’t protect him if you keep forcing him to open up!”

I didn’t let my fear stop me as I pressed him.

“Protect him from what? Did someone hurt him? I read about what can cause—”

His hand flew against my mouth with enough force to knock my head against the door. He pressed hard and cut off my words.

Never did his eyes leave mine as Elliot’s would have, especially in a situation of such discomfort and intense emotion. Never once did he look away.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

I held his gaze, refusing to waver. He pressed harder, the pressure on the back of my head becoming a painful throbbing.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” he asked, his brows nearly reaching his hairline.

I watch his face transition to a look of smug satisfaction as I manage to slightly nod.

He released his grip, and I deflated, the fight leaving my body as I stepped away from the door. I leaned against the wall before slowly sinking to the floor.

I didn’t raise my eyes as I quietly asked, “Are you going to keep Elliot from seeing me again?”

He sighed, some of the fight leaving him, too.

“Elliot loves you—this wasn’t supposed to happen, Y/N.”

As he said my name, my head jerked up, the syllables so foreign on his tongue I knew, without a doubt, that whoever was standing in front of me was someone completely different than Elliot Alderson.

“You have to understand that it’s my job to keep him safe. Not yours, not Darlene’s. No one else’s. No one else can keep him safe.”

“What about a psychiatrist?”

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous. If they don’t fuck him up with 15 different kinds of meds, they’ll just throw him in an institution. Is that what you want? Elliot locked up like some kind of sick-o creep?”

“I would never let that happen.”

“Daddy’s money gonna buy Elliot a happy little place in the Adirondacks? Get him a nurse, someone nice to take care of him like his worthless mother never could?”

“Is that why you hate me? I have money? Or because I consider Elliot family?”

“My job is to protect him, and I’ve decided you’re not worth the risk, sweetheart.”

Without another glance, he opened the door and slammed it shut behind him.

I buried my head in my hands, the tears I had held back throughout the entire ordeal bursting out in a harsh sob. I crawled over to the door and locked it, pulling myself up by the knob in order to secure the deadbolt.

Not that it mattered since Elliot had a key.

Not that it mattered since Elliot was being held prisoner inside of his own body.

And no one, except himself, held that key.

* * * * *

Elliot didn’t come to work on the next day.

And then he didn’t come for another three days.

When I read the email from Ali questioning Elliot’s whereabouts, I wasn’t surprised. I called him up to my office and had the secretary shut the door after she let him in.

Ali had the good manners to look concerned, but I could detect the haughtiness underneath.

“I’ve noticed that Alderson’s been out for the past few days. Can you provide some insight? He was the lead on our new WiFi scripts, as I’m sure you remember.”

The lie came much easier than any other lie in my life had.

“He’s had a death in the family, Ali. I suggest postponing the project until he returns. Ask JaLeah for someone who can handle white hat duties if your team needs another hacker.”

Some of the haughtiness fell from Ali’s face.

“Oh. Well, my condolences to him when you see him.”

“Thank you. Will there be anything else?”

“Nope—you’ve always got the answers, boss.”

“Don’t call me that,” I said as I rolled my eyes and offered him a crooked smile in an attempt to subvert his attention from the abnormality of Elliot’s absences.

Ali grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

The partial smile fell from my face the instant the door shut behind Ali, and I felt sick as my mind worked over my lie. I didn’t live my life in the shadows. I lived with integrity.

And I had just told a boldfaced lie, one that would surely make its way around the office, and if Elliot never came back to work, everyone would know I lied for my boyfriend.

What a fucking mess.

I had to see him; I had to try to talk to my Elliot, the one I was in love with, and not this other who seemed to want nothing more than for me to fuck off for good.

I made a promise to Darlene not to let Elliot bail, and clearly, the Aldersons took promises made to them seriously.  

[thedistantstorm]

Project Compass 35

Read along on AO3 here

<< Previous Chapter <<   >> Next Chapter >>

This time: It has to be a Chiss.

Next time: The confrontation aboard the Compass reaches its peak.

-/

Eli - Vanto had a right to his anger, Thrawn thought, but that was as much as he was willing to let himself linger on the subject at the moment. He followed dutifully behind Vah’nya and Vanto, taking care to check over his shoulder to confirm that they were not followed through the ship. The duo moved like they were two halves of a single entity. He had never seen them work together in hostile situations beyond the bridge of a warship, and even then a Navigator’s role was limited in situations that did not require immediate departure or swift, flawlessly executed arrival.

“The control room is on your right,” Vanto said, and Vah’nya gripped her blaster tighter.

They were after the prisoners - the loyal Chiss aboard the Compass who had been detained and not murdered. There probably weren't many, only those of high political value would have been spared from the immediate slaughter once the Grysks arrived. Besides, the enemy had already murdered a Navigator simply to prove a point. Those who did not have the gift of sight could not expect any mercy.

Their main objective at this stage was to locate and secure Senior Captain Khresh. Both Vanto and Vah’nya were rather hopeful that the man was still alive. Thrawn found that unlikely, but he would reserve judgement. They had not shared the details of their plan, but it was clear that there was a plan in play. He no longer felt the effects of the chemical concoction he’d been dosed with, no doubt in part to his biology, but also the stimulant that Vah’nya had administered. However, it was possible he’d been appraised of their plan and been unable to retain the information before the other effects of the hypo had kicked in. Some of his short-term memory remained out of his grasp, hazed and disjointed. He remembered being found, Vah’nya’s too-cold hands on his face and her lips moving as she assessed his status, but there were moments that eluded him.

The entry panel beside the door was red, locked down. Vah'nya slapped her hand to the biometric panel and it flashed, then opened to her unique signature. It shouldn't have, Thrawn knew.

"Thorough," Eli drawled sarcastically, lending voice to Thrawn's thoughts, though Thrawn never would have commented aloud. His fellow Captain then inclined his head to indicate Thrawn should follow Vah'nya in. A wise defensive position, with Thrawn carrying Un'hee and not able to assist much in combat.

He obeyed the silent command. Eli shut them in the small room. Thrawn could hear his footsteps from the other side of the door, but turned back to Vah'nya. "They will be able to see who accessed the terminal on the bridge," Said Thrawn. “We will not have much time.”

"That is fine," Said Vah'nya, voice hard. “Only the first half of this plan was intended to be a stealth mission.” She pulled her comm from her belt once certain the room was secure. It was silent, but blinked to indicate the receipt of an incoming transmission.

Vah'nya investigated the terminal datascreens while her fingers flew across the console, searching for information. "I'm in," She said after a moment. "Standing by."

The channel remained silent for four seconds, before ambient sound came over the comms. The antechamber leading into the cellblock opened and closed swiftly. The subsequent blaster fire was crisp and loud, the end of the bolts giving the indication that the cartridge was nearly empty. In his grip, Thrawn felt Un’hee stir, her shoulders curling in before she relaxed again, head still limp against his collarbone.

“Open cells twenty-two and twenty-four,” Vanto ordered tersely.

Vah’nya entered the command into the terminal. “Do you need backup?” She asked.

“Negative,” He said, voice softer. “I have five crew members.”

“Injuries?”

“Nothing life threatening,” He confirmed.

“Only five?” Vah’nya’s voice rose sharply as she queued up the cell feed. She flinched away from them almost immediately. Looking over her shoulder, Thrawn saw what she had and could hardly blame the young woman for looking away, regardless of her military indoctrination. It was a gruesome sight. Typical, but wasteful. Unforgivable.

Eli’s voice was tight. “Yeah,” He said. “Coming back to you now.”

“And Senior Captain Khresh?”

“They took him and the remaining Navigator to the bridge,” Came a quaking male voice in the vicinity of the comms device. It was not Vanto.

The edge to Vah’nya’s voice could not be missed. Even though she could hear the sound of the antechamber doors being activated without the use of her comm, she thumbed the device anyway. “Navigator… singular?”

“The other three have been terminated,” Eli confirmed, opening the door to reveal the small party of rescued prisoners. He was thumbing at a pockmark from a blaster bolt that had hit his chest armor, looking displeased. His left arm had taken a glancing blow, but he paid it little mind, so Vah’nya figured it likely singed his tunic more than it had damaged him. “Navigator Ve’hikri was the first, as Thrawn confirmed. The other two,” He trailed off, listening to another voice behind him that was too quiet for Thrawn to hear from a distance. “Were also murdered to prove a point, supposedly. I suspect they were systematically executing whomever they had left.”

“Who remains?”

“Ke’hala,” Eli said gravely. “They need a Navigator to steer the ship if they plan to take it. The younger the better.” Ke’hala was barely seven years old. Thrawn considered the child in his arms, who had been taken even younger. It was predatory. It was unacceptable.

“Why waste the resources?” Asked one of the rescued crewmen. “Why would our own be so heartless as to slaughter their own?”

Eli did not smile as he deferred to Va’hnya. The Navigator’s back remained straight, and her eyes were vivid in an ethereal way - with barely concealed emotion, so out of place for a Chiss, and even more so for a Navigator. She only met the human’s gaze for the briefest of seconds before she took point.

“We need to rethink what we know about our enemy,” She said, stepping out of the control room and into the hall. “These are not Scratchlings or some ambiguous client race. They are enslaving our warriors. They are morphing their perceptions and turning them against their own.” Vah’nya’s gaze was cold, chilled with fury and determination. “They have forgotten what it means to be a Chiss,” She said. “And it is up to us to remind them.”

While Vah’nya stoked the fires of determination in their recovered allies, Eli pulled back to Thrawn’s position. He did not speak to Thrawn, but he did check on Un’hee, who seemed to respond to his hand on her head, twitching as if in a deep sleep.

“Bridge team, acknowledge,” He said.

The static of the comm was bright for just under a minute then broke, the subsequent sounds violent and muzzy with battle. “Acknowledged,” Ezra’s voice came. He was out of breath. “A bit busy here.”

“Have you made it to the bridge?”

“We’re working on it,” The Jedi hissed. The sound of blaster fire was loud, and it took Bridger a moment to continue. “We could use some help.”

“We’re coming your way now. Do you have eyes on their Commander or Khresh?”

“They’re on the bridge,” A Chiss voice called from the other side of the comm. The voice was female. “I heard them talking to Senior Captain Khresh, but we can’t get through the blast door. Enemy forces are… significant. We’ve lost two.”

“Stay strong. We’ll be there as soon as we can. Ivant out.”

After he pocketed his comm, he looked up at Thrawn. “Trade you,” He began, offering Thrawn his blaster with one hand, motioning to Un’hee with the other. “We need to take the bridge.” His voice dipped lower. “My gut says Khresh is still alive, probably to keep Navigator Ke'hala compliant. I don't know how long that will last with us mounting an offensive.”

“Your assessment is likely correct,” Thrawn acknowledged. It was the most likely course, assuming that both Khresh and Ke’hala were alive. “However, switching roles is unnecessary. You are capable of leading this offensive. They are anticipating you.”

If Vanto was surprised that Thrawn had seen through his plans, he gave little indication. "Perhaps I could," Eli supposed. He met Thrawn's eyes with all the seriousness of a senior commander. A leader. The intensity of it lit up places deep inside Thrawn that he dared not name. "But it needs to be you."

-/

In battle, the plans drafted before the battle so rarely made it to the end without serious revision, if they were not discarded entirely. Commanders who saw fit rely on an unchangeable script were easily defeated. Commanders who could not adapt often crumbled under the weight of their indecision or doubt. Only those who anticipated and reacted dynamically tended to survive battle, though even then, the odds of survival were never absolute.

The Grysks were intelligent. Their hierarchy, while still unknown for the most part, had roles. The grunts - an amalgamation of low class officers - were likely low in whatever social caste made up their society. They were trained to die with honor, to take their own lives rather than be taken prisoner or probed for information. They held only scraps of information. For while the Grysk coveted other species, asserting their claim and injecting themselves into the hearts and minds of their clients, the practice had to originate from somewhere.

Within.

Their commanders subjugated both client and lesser Grysk alike. Those who were lesser rarely noticed for how deeply they were entrenched. This was a strength - their leadership was absolute when facing an enemy. Commanders had never been reported in pairs.

It was also a devastating weakness.

Vah'nya hadn't been the one to figure it out. Eli had told her, their fingers interlocked between them, her face pressed against his shoulder. He'd mouthed his suspicions in the quietest voice possible, speaking around tremors he couldn't control, his back slick with blood from a round of torture Vah'nya had been forced to watch. It had been the tactic of an interrogation for information she had never known.

Eli had always been brilliant like that, understatedly so. Now, with Captain Mitth'raw'nuruodo on their side, Vah'nya could see how he had learned, the way the more senior captain's lessons had translated into something more, taking into account his strengths and bolstering his weak points. It was intriguing. She saw similarities in his tutelage of her, though he’d done more than copy his former mentor. Eli had made Thrawn’s lessons his own.

Going for subtlety, Vah’nya angled herself toward Ivant and Thrawn. They were conversing softly, and looked like they had been for a few moments now. She didn’t dare interrupt just yet.

"I abandoned my post aboard the Steadfast," Thrawn was saying, some part of a greater conversation Vah'nya had not been privy to. She had been checking over the rescued crew, confirming that none required intervention. They hadn't. “And what I did, after,” The Chiss met his gaze, with a look that Vah’nya considered nearly apologetic. What happened in the hangar, then. “My actions are not those of a commander one should follow.”

Eli shrugged. "I have known you-” He broke off to emphasize, “Who you really are, for a while now," Ivant said. "I know why you did it," He continued, so sure that Vah'nya swore she could feel the truth of it. His lips quirked upward, the stormy irritation beginning to clear in his eyes. “I know you just wanted to prevent anyone else from getting hurt, but you would have hurt us anyway because we care about you. I care. If you think-” The intensity of his own sincerity seemed to give him pause. Eli let the emotion wash over him, then regrouped, shaking his head. “So long as I’m around, you’ll never be alone. I’m tired of chasing after you, so stop leavin’ me behind.”

Thrawn's expression was similarly sincere, but equally as serious. He gave a deep, fluid nod as if making a vow.

Reaching around to cup the back of Thrawn’s neck, Eli deftly retrieved the tracker he’d placed on the other man aboard the Steadfast and held it out on the tip of his finger, showing Thrawn the nearly invisible, tiny beacon.

The other captain frowned at first. When he recognized it, his shoulders eased. “You are serious," He said. He did not gesture between them, but Eli seemed to catch his meaning. After all this. After the secrets, and the betrayal and the way he’d picked up the pieces only to throw it all away again.

"I just said I was tired of chasing after you," Eli said, giving the other man a small smile. “You and I both know we're better as a team.” His confidence was radiant and honest. He was like a sun, drawing Thrawn to revolve around him if only to bask in a piece of that light.

Beyond them, the comms crackled, their rescued crew talked quietly amongst themselves. The moment broke.

“But this isn’t about you and me,” Eli admitted. “Our people need you now. They need you to lead them to victory. To show their misguided brothers and sisters that a warrior of the Chiss Ascendancy is capable of.”

"And you?"

Earnestly, Eli asserted, "I'll have your back, every step of the way."

Thrawn smiled then. Not with the gleaming machinations of a master tactician, not the seriousness of a military commander. This was something different. Something that to the outsider might not have seemed much like a smile at all, but for the tiniest uptick of lips.

And yet.

Vah'nya felt the shift in Thrawn, like a tangle inside him shook loose, the conflict fading away. He straightened, and it was unlike anything she'd seen in him before. Like the weight he'd carried, the shadowy edge of grief and self incrimination, maybe even doubt dissipated.

He was not looking backwards any longer, Vah'nya realized. He'd come to terms with what he had done and who he had been, and these were his first steps coming out on the other side.

There was no hesitation as Thrawn placed Un'hee in Ivant's arms. She watched their hands catch on each other, the quick tangle and tender squeeze of fingers before Thrawn stepped back. The other Chiss’s gaze swept to her, likely displeased that she had been eavesdropping on their conversation. Ivant's eyes were bright though, and she had no doubt that Thrawn, though far more stoic, felt the same.

They had hope. She could feel its currents like a brisk wind, new and electric and bright.

Vah'nya had often wondered how it would be to have both of them teaching her sisters, helping them in tandem to find themselves and their way forward amidst the many perils of the galaxy. To have Thrawn sharpen their minds and Ivant illuminate the connection between their minds and their hearts. Here and now, she knew the seeds of that goal- Ivant's master plan - had been planted.

It would not make what they had to do any easier, but the way forward was clear.

Thrawn waded through the room and out into the corridor, taking stock of their meager troops. Vah’nya followed but Ivant remained back, probably to assert that Thrawn was in control. It didn’t last more than a minute, though. Thrawn’s piercing eyes only had to narrow upon him for Ivant to realize Thrawn wished him to be at his side, regardless of what their troops took the statement to mean.

Vah'nya inclined her head to Thrawn as Ivant approached. Ivant dipped his chin in silent approval. He wasn't the only one who had learned, she thought, but held her tongue. Instead, she asked, "Your orders, Captain Thrawn?"

-/

Eli had only been allowed to stay back for as long as it took Thrawn assess their additions. The pointed gaze he’d been given made him pause. Thrawn had really taken it to heart, what he’d said. He didn’t have time to think about how good that felt, not with Un’hee shifting in his grip as she wrestled her way back to consciousness. It hadn’t taken long for her to begin to resurface, though Eli suspected it wasn’t because she wanted to be alert. She was simply reacting to the situation’s demands.

She would need to be monitored closely after this. Though, she did settle when Eli stood shoulder-to shoulder with Thrawn. Eli couldn’t help but be excited to see what Thrawn would do.

“I require information,” Thrawn said, addressing the rescued crew members. “Who executed these people?”

“It was a Grysk,” one of the males said. None of these crew members were anyone Eli knew, but Vah’nya had not tipped him off that they were untrustworthy. Her sense for that sort of thing had been growing. She’d learned from their previous mistakes not to take any chances when it came to what her instincts told her. “They had Chiss with them, but they did not fire.”

“Did they display any signs of disobedience?”

The crew member, a lieutenant by the look of him, shrugged. “Not especially. They just seemed… flat. Soulless.”

Thrawn considered for only a fraction of a second. "I do not desire any loss of life, especially that of a Chiss. However, those Chiss wearing coveralls are our brethren no longer. I would prefer that you stun rather than use lethal force, but do not hesitate to do what must be done."

“And the Grysks?”

Vah’nya fixed Thrawn with a look, a regal confident expression from out of the corner of her eyes, and as if magnetized, he met almost immediately. “Leave any Grysks to me,” She said, handing one of the crew members her weapon. That contradiction - disarming herself willingly, while claiming she’d be capable of handling the enemy - gave Thrawn pause. The Senior Navigator continued, “I can see them in ways you cannot. Please allow me to guide you.”

Thrawn didn’t like the idea, though. It wasn’t that the entire thing was unorthodox, Thrawn never quite cared for tradition. He turned to Eli for his consideration, and was given a confident nod. “Navigator Vah’nya is more than capable of bringing them down. She and Navigator Un’hee have been capable of killing Grysks while seemingly unarmed.” Ivant regarded him, asking for trust that had long since been earned.

He’d put it together, Eli knew. Thrawn’s gaze left him and settled on a still-incoherent Un’hee. “Our captors,” Thrawn suspected.

“I will show you. There are not many more between us and our destination, but we will not make it to the bridge without at least one altercation,” Vah’nya said. Then, she addressed the group with conviction. “Allow me to show you what a Navigator is meant to be.”

[sage-nebula]

I understand that part of the misunderstanding might be stemming from subtitles, but I also think part of the misunderstanding is coming from a refusal to pay real thought and attention to Kagami and her character, so I just want to spell this out real quick:

Kagami was NOT pressuring Adrien into a relationship in “Miracle Queen”. She was pushing him to GIVE HER A STRAIGHT ANSWER.

Of course, we don’t have the English dub yet, but let’s take a look at the high quality subs of the Ukranian version that we do have, shall we?

Adrien: [pushes away from the kiss] “No! I mean, yes! I mean, this is the first time when . . . I . . . I thought it would be different.”

Kagami: “Are you not happy with me?”

Adrien: “No, that’s not it! I just don’t think I’m ready.”

Kagami: “When will you be ready?”

Adrien: [doesn’t answer, looks away]

Kagami: “Your indecision hurts me, Adrien.”

Kagami gives Adrien not one, but two chances to reject her here. When he first pushes away from the kiss, despite his flip-flopping on whether he actually wanted the kiss or not (”no, I mean, yes! I mean---”) she asks him flat out if he likes her or not. He could have said no! He could have apologized and said he didn’t have feelings for her! She would have been hurt, but she asked him, so she would have accepted that! Instead, he denies it, and says that the real reason is that he’s not ready. So she asks him when he will be, and to that he dodges the question and looks away, at which point she tells him that his indecision is hurting her, i.e., if he rejected her, at least he’d be making a choice, and she could then move on. 

In other words, Kagami would rather be rejected outright than strung along and played with.

Because, unintentionally or not (and I do believe it’s unintentional), that is what Adrien’s doing, and it is painful, especially for someone like Kagami who isn’t confident in her ability to read other people to begin with (she had to look up a Wikihow to try to befriend Marinette, ffs), and who, as proven by her own words and her actions time and again in the show, doesn’t hesitate and doesn’t appreciate others beating around the bush either.

But let’s look at all the ways Adrien has sent Kagami mixed signals, shall we? We’ll take it episode by episode. (As a note, I’m starting with “Frozer” instead of “Riposte” since it was “Frozer” where their interactions started to be coded as romantic, versus “Riposte” where they only became friends at the end of the episode.)

Frozer:

At the start of the episode, Adrien confides in Kagami that things aren’t working out with the girl he likes, and in the process of giving him advice (which boiled down to “if she doesn’t like you, move on” which is yet another indicator that Kagami would do the same if Adrien flat out rejected her), she flirts with him a little (by telling him to “change [his] target”). At that point, Adrien gives her a rose, and asks her to go ice skating with him. By all accounts, Kagami has every single right to think that Adrien has just asked her out on a date, which must be pretty exciting given that a.) she likes him, and b.) we have 100% reason to believe this is the first time she’s ever been asked out given how socially isolated she’s been her whole life. At this point, Kagami has no idea that it will be anyone but the two of them at the ice rink. Why should she think that’s a possibility, when Adrien gave her a rose when he asked her out, and when he did so immediately after she advised him to “change targets”? If it were Marinette in Kagami’s place, I’m pretty sure the entire fandom would have been overjoyed that Adrien had just asked her out!

But of course, that wasn’t the end of the story. Kagami finds out on the day of that Adrien has invited someone else, and that the someone else he invited brought along another person. Keeping in mind that Kagami has been socially isolated and, as we later learn in “Ikari Gozen”, needs a Wikihow article to help her interact with others, having two virtual strangers along on what is now suddenly a group date can’t have done a lot to help her mood. All of a sudden she’s realizing that although Adrien gave her a rose and asked her out, apparently there’s someone else that she’s competing with for his affections, and she’s competing with this other person on her date with Adrien, because Adrien brought the other person along. Again, imagine if Kagami and Marinette’s roles were reversed: Imagine if we saw Adrien ask Marinette out by giving her a rose, only for him to show up with Kagami and Luka in tow. Sure, he’d still be “with” Marinette, but a group date is nowhere near as special as a single date, particularly if one half of said date didn’t know it was going to be a group date to begin with.

But for all the discomfort and upset Kagami felt, she took it pretty gracefully. She accepts it at the end when Adrien tells her he’s not ready to “switch targets,” and tells him that she’ll be waiting for when he is. She then leaves. She doesn’t throw a fit, she doesn’t yell at him for inviting others, she doesn’t attack Marinette (and no, telling Marinette that if she (Marinette) doesn’t make a move then she (Kagami) will does not count as an attack). She accepts the disappointment and moves on.

So in this episode, Kagami received two very strong signals that Adrien was into her (the rose and date invitation), and two very strong signals that he was not (inviting Marinette, telling her at the end he wasn’t ready to move on). Thus our score is:

Positive Signals: 2 Negative Signals: 2

A very even mix. Let’s move on.

Animaestro:

Adrien greets Kagami as soon as she arrives at the theater. Yes, he was told to do so by Nathalie, but Kagami wouldn’t know this. He also notably greets her in Japanese, showing that he’s taken some time to study the language, when I believe previously we only knew him to be studying Chinese. It makes sense that Gabriel would want him to study Japanese given the Agreste’s relationship with the Tsurugi family, but nonetheless, I’m sure Kagami would have been a bit pleased by that as well, albeit perhaps less so than Adrien seeking her out to greet her at the movie premier. A little bit after that, when she links her arm through his so they can go find a seat (a subtle flirt), Adrien does not pull his arm away. Instead, he keeps their arms linked as they walk off. Adrien easily could have pulled away, easily could have rejected that physical contact, proximity, and flirtation (just as he pushes away from the kiss in “Miracle Queen”), but he didn’t. He accepted it. He happily went along with it. This, like the rose and the date invitation, would be a very strong signal to Kagami.

Building on that, during Chloe’s and Marinette’s attempted sabotage, Adrien not only helps her find a chair, but he helps her with the gum on her shoe as well. He pays special attention and care to her, something her mother---who is noticeably cold---points out. Kagami and her mother don’t always see eye-to-eye, but the fact that her mother thinks that Adrien is paying special care to Kagami would no doubt lead Kagami to believe the same, particularly since Adrien doesn’t deny it and takes the compliments. All in all, the movie premier wasn’t a date per se, but they spent a good portion of the evening together and Adrien gave her nothing but positive signals (with the only potentially negative one being when he chatted happily with Marinette at the end, but I don’t think Kagami had a very negative reaction to that that I can remember). So, counting the greeting at the beginning, the linked arms, and the special attention as positive signals (and the greeting in Japanese as half a positive signal), and Adrien chatting with Marinette at the end as half a negative signal, our scores are now:

Positive Signals: 5.5 Negative Signals: 2.5

Still mixed, but erring more on the side of positive than negative.

Backwarder:

Adrien greets Kagami at the train, and he takes her hand to help her onboard. However, this is pretty much the exact same thing that Gabriel did for Kagami’s mother, so that in itself wouldn’t send too much of a signal to Kagami, I don’t think. On that note, we don’t actually see Adrien talk to Kagami at all throughout the episode. They sit next to each other on the train, but he spends his time on the train either reading the letter that Marinette gave him, or listening to a news report on his phone with his earbuds in. And we know from the end of the episode that he spent pretty much the whole trip looking for the medicine Marinette accidentally requested he find. Therefore, I think in this episode Kagami was given maybe half a positive signal (for him helping her on the train), but two negative ones as well (him ignoring her on the train, him spending the trip looking for something for Marinette instead of spending time with her).

Positive Signals: 6 Negative Signals: 4.5

Oni-chan:

Kagami sees the photo that Lila posted online of her (Lila) kissing Adrien’s cheek, and we know that she took this as a very negative signal given that she not only throws her phone, but also pulls out her journal to look at the pressed rose inside---the same one that Adrien gave Kagami, that she kept because it meant something to her (not only as a token of his seeming romantic affection, I’d imagine, but quite possibly the very first gift she ever received from a friend). What’s interesting to note here, though, is that I believe this is the first time Kagami has been made aware that Lila is a person who even exists. Before this, all signs pointed to Kagami believing Marinette is the other girl Adrien had feelings for (“Frozer”, “Backwarder”). This means that Kagami’s rage might have been fueled not only from heartbreak, but also the idea that Adrien was just playing her, and possibly Marinette, and who knows how many others; that maybe he wasn’t the person she thought he was.

Either way, Gabriel (as Hawkmoth) sorts that out when he akumatizes her, telling her that Lila is dangerous, and that Adrien is just naive and being played by her. No doubt because Kagami already had feelings for Adrien (all those positive signals), and no doubt because she succumbed to the akuma’s power, she agrees with this narrative and sets about hunting down Lila to “punish” her for threatening Adrien (though not before giving Adrien her Declaration of Protection, and confessing her feelings to him in the first place). This is probably why, after she’s de-akumatized, she once again holds the rose to her chest, both thankful to have it back, and forgiving her initial negative thoughts about Adrien.

Regardless, during their fencing practice at the end of the episode, Adrien tells Kagami that he’s “only trying to be worthy of [her],” which she clearly takes as a positive sign given how she smiles and blushes. Considering that this is after Adrien has realized that she really does have feelings for him (given that she confessed while akumatized and he saw that her akumatized item was the rose he gave her), she has very good reason to think so! (Even though she doesn’t remember the confession bit and doesn’t know he’s Chat Noir, but nonetheless, we know and that makes those signals even stronger for us than for her).

So we have the negative signal of seeing the photo, and the positive signal of Adrien telling her he’s trying to be worthy of her. (Gabriel assuaging Kagami’s rage toward Adrien doesn’t count since that didn’t come from Adrien himself.) Once again, it’s an equal number of positive and negative signals in this episode, though unlike in “Frozer”, this time we end on a positive signal instead of a negative one.

Positive Signals: 7 Negative Signals: 5.5

Desperada:

Adrien and Kagami arrive together at the Kitty Section practice session. Given that this seems to have taken place before both “Silencer” and “Ikari Gozen”, Kagami doesn’t really know and isn’t friends with any of the people already present (including Marinette herself), and therefore it’s fair to assume that the person who invited her to come along with him was Adrien. We know, too, that the two of them opted to skip fencing practice, which is something Adrien could have done by himself had he wanted to. The fact that he invited her to skip fencing practice to go hang out at band practice with him would be pretty significant to her.

(And yes, I am sticking to the fact that this episode must come before “Silencer” chronologically, because as of the end of “Silencer” Marinette knows how Luka feels about her, whereas in this episode Alya says that the boys haven’t made their decisions yet, and Marinette goes along with this. I know what the production order is, but episodes can be made out of order for any reason. Until Word of God comes out and says otherwise, I’m sticking to this---and, tbh, I’m sticking to it even after Word of God, if we’re being entirely honest.)

We don’t see too much interaction between them after this, save for how Kagami protected Adrien and then tried to attack Desperada (once again showing that she never hesitates), but what we saw at the beginning was enough to see that Adrien only had positive signals for Kagami in this episode, even if it was only one (inviting her to skip fencing practice to go to band practice instead).

Positive Signals: 8 Negative Signals: 5.5

Loveater:

Since Kagami was only seen in a flashback in “Stormy Weather 2″ and since I don’t think she interacted with him as himself in “Ikari Gozen”, that brings us to “Loveater.”

When we see Kagami and Adrien in “Loveater”, they’re already together, seated on the same bench with Gorilla. As far as we know, they arrived together. Whether they did or not, though, they’re on the same page; both want to help Marinette, and both do help her take the trays into the kitchen. While they’re in there, Adrien and Kagami begin fencing with a pair of ladles; Marinette looks sad and left out, because right then, she kind of is. All of Adrien’s attention is on Kagami as they play and banter with each other (and as we know, playful banter can indeed be a form of flirting). And although Adrien tells Marinette not to leave when they leave the kitchen, it should be noted that it was Kagami who told Marinette that she should “sneak away with [them].” Therefore, Adrien not wanting Marinette to leave wouldn’t read as a negative signal to Kagami, since she didn’t want Marinette to leave either, and, unlike Adrien, was the one who actually said so directly. (Which doesn’t exactly pertain to the mixed signals Adrien gives her, but more is just another instance of how Kagami gets straight to the point instead of being wishy-washy or vague about things.)

Up on the rooftop, Adrien takes both their hands before leaping into the ball pit. However, when they’re done playing in the ball pit, it should be noted that he and Kagami left first, and not only did they leave first, but Adrien glanced at Kagami before he began to play the piano, and his body was turned a bit toward her as well. Once again, it seems as if Marinette has been left out before Kagami includes her by saying that her hair is beautiful. Adrien agrees, but he only said that (and looked toward Marinette) in the first place because Kagami spoke up first. If she hadn’t drawn attention to Marinette, Adrien’s attention probably would have remained focused on the song that he seemed to be playing for her. (Which makes me feel bad to say, but let’s be honest: Marinette was kind of third wheeling in this episode, something she herself realized at the end.)

When they escape to the bench and Marinette asks if they’ll get in trouble with their parents, Adrien answers for both of them, and leans his head in toward Kagami as they laugh. When Kagami and Adrien are eating ice cream---just the two of them, now---they’re not only sitting very close to each other, but she wipes away some ice cream on his cheek and, though he’s surprised, he doesn’t pull away. She offers him the stem of the cone, and he lets her feed him (which is a very couples-thing; how many people do that with their friends?). And when she leans in for the kiss, he not only quickly eats the rest of the cone, but he closes his eyes and doesn’t pull away. This wasn’t a surprise kiss, like the one at the end. This was one he knew was coming, one he closed his eyes and prepared for. It wasn’t interrupted because he rejected it, but rather because Marinette (as Ladybug) yoinked Kagami away.

At the end of the episode, Kagami tells Adrien that she was taken away by Ladybug to protect the two of them, since the akuma was attacking “people in love.” When Adrien, in surprise, repeats this, Kagami smiles, nods, and slowly puts her hands on his shoulders, then her arms around his neck. He doesn’t pull away. She tugs him closer and leans up, and he doesn’t pull away. By contrast, he closes his eyes again and leans down. Although we know that at the start of the next episode he does push her away, at the end of this one, he was accepting and leaning into the kiss. So, from start to finish, “Loveater” was nothing but positive signals from Adrien to Kagami---a total of eight, as a matter of fact (play-fencing in the kitchen, getting out of the ball pit to play the piano for her, leaning in close to her as they laughed over their shared experience, not pulling away when she swiped the ice cream off his cheek, letting her feed him, not pulling away from the almost-kiss, not pulling away when she embraced him at the end, and leaning into the real kiss). Therefore, at the end of “Loveater,” the scores are:

Positive Signals: 14 Negative Signals: 5.5

Still mixed, but at that point in time, weighted heavily in “positive, he likes me”’s direction.

Miracle Queen:

By the end of “Miracle Queen” we see that Adrien has made his decision, both in how he sits by her, how he smiles at her, and how he wipes the ice cream off her cheek (which is the same move she pulled on him in the previous episode). So let’s examine the beginning, and why Kagami finally lets him know that she’s frustrated with the back and forth. This time, I’m going to add signals to the tally in real time, using the script I transcribed above.

Adrien: [pushes away from the kiss] “No!” 

Positive Signals: 14 Negative Signals: 6.5

Adrien: “I mean, yes!”

Positive Signals: 15 Negative Signals: 6.5

Adrien: “I mean, this is the first time when . . . I . . . I thought it would be different.”

Positive Signals: 15 Negative Signals: 7.5

Kagami: “Are you not happy with me?”

Adrien: “No, that’s not it!”

Positive Signals: 16 Negative Signals: 7.5

Adrien: “I just don’t think I’m ready.”

Positive Signals: 16? Negative Signals: 8

Kagami: “When will you be ready?”

Adrien: [doesn’t answer, looks away]

Positive Signals: 16 Negative Signals: 8.5?

Kagami: “Your indecision hurts me, Adrien.”

As I outlined above, ever since “Frozer” Adrien has been giving Kagami mixed signals. In some episodes, his signals are very heavily positive (e.g. “Animaestro”), in some they’re very negative (e.g. “Backwarder”), and in others they’re equally balanced (e.g. “Frozer”, “Ikari Gozen”). But although the intensity of the mixed messages varies from interaction to interaction (as is realistic, particularly considering that I think we can all agree that Adrien is not intentionally leading Kagami on), the fact remains that the messages he gives her are still decidedly mixed. He might ignore her on a London trip, but he tells her he’s trying to be worthy of her while sparring and accepts her flirtations at movie premiers and while eating couples ice cream. On that note, given how every single interaction they had in “Loveater” was romantically coded, and that he was going to kiss her back in the middle of the episode, it’s no wonder that Kagami decides to make another definitive move on him at the end. Even if she wasn’t still pretty new to social interaction, most people would take everything Adrien did in “Loveater” alone as an indicator of interest. Again, swap Kagami and Marinette; if Adrien had done things for Marinette in “Loveater” like ditching Kagami in the ballpit to play the piano for her (Marinette), letting her feed him, and closing his eyes to accept the kiss, everyone would be shocked and appalled at him immediately pulling away at the start of the next episode to be wishy-washy again. The way Adrien interacted with Kagami in this episode, particularly given how he’s treated her in episodes previous, gave her every indication that she should make another move. And given the wide variety of mixed-signals, and especially including the rapid-fire flip-flopping he pulls in this very conversation when Kagami asks him for a straight answer, it’s no wonder she gets a little frustrated and tells him flat out that his indecision---or rather, his refusal to either date her for real or cut her loose so she can move on---is hurting her. Again, she’s not forcing Adrien in a relationship. She’s putting rejection plainly on the table. If he rejects her, she’ll accept it and move on. If he doesn’t want to be with her, fine. Not saying she wouldn’t be sad, but she flat out asked him “are you not happy with me” as a way for him to say “no, I don’t like you like that” so she can move on. She gave him the choice; all she wanted him to do was definitively make it, which is not an unreasonable request.

(It also makes her a vivid contrast to Luka. When Luka asked Marinette if she was still thinking of Adrien, she looked away in much the same way Adrien did when Kagami asked him when he’d be ready to move on. Luka, being laidback and soft, seems content to wait around while Marinette sorts out her feelings. This is not because Luka is “more understanding” than Kagami, but rather, I think, because his investment in his relationship with Marinette is not as intense as Kagami’s investment with Adrien. Luka has lots of friends, he has his music, he has a job; he cares about Marinette very much, but he also has a lot of other things going on in his life that make him more content emotionally, so that even when he’s disappointed that Marinette doesn’t see him like he’d like her to, he’s still okay. Kagami, on the other hand, has a grand total of two friends, one of whom is Adrien; fencing is a hobby in which she sees Adrien every single time there’s practice or a meet; and she doesn’t have a job because her mother keeps her on a very tight schedule that doesn’t allow for part-time employment. Kagami’s life outside of the time she spends with Adrien (and now Marinette) isn’t very happy, and being tugged around by Adrien in a “he likes me, he likes me not” situation really isn’t helping. Given all this, and the fact that Kagami has little patience for wishy-washy nonsense to begin with (both from others and herself---she holds herself to that same standard!), it’s no wonder she wants Adrien to just make up his mind, to either choose her or lose her. It’s a stark contrast from Luka, but it’s a very understandable one given their starkly different backgrounds.)

At the end of the episode, we see that Adrien agrees that what Kagami wanted wasn’t an unreasonable request. Regardless of his reasons for giving up on Ladybug (and we know that he still hadn’t totally at the beginning of “Miracle Queen”, given his hesitation), he’s nonetheless decided to let himself return Kagami’s affections, to intentionally send those positive signals instead of unintentionally waffling back and forth (because again, I don’t think he was stringing her along maliciously, but intent doesn’t matter as much as the end result in situations like this, and Kagami deserved an honest answer either way). The two of them seem to be dating now, which not only sends the message that you should go for what (or who) you want while you have the chance, but also that you should leave the choice in the other person’s hands and not push them into it (which is where Chat went wrong with Ladybug; even though she flat-out rejected him and did not send him mixed signals, he continued to push and pressure her anyway, which is in contrast to how Kagami didn’t have a direct rejection even when she made it plain that Adrien could give her one and she would back off).

So all in all, Kagami does not deserve the libel she’s been getting. She’s not controlling, nor is she possessive, nor did she pressure Adrien into a relationship. Instead, she’s a teenage girl who developed a crush on a boy that she spends a lot of time around, who received mixed signals from said boy that largely leaned toward positive, and who told him outright that she wanted him to make a decision about her one way or another so that she didn’t continue to get strung along in limbo. Kagami did nothing wrong, and does not at all deserve the bashing that she’s been receiving since “Riposte” even aired. Thank you.