#but this is still pretty normal. it has been aired in january. it's not a mindblowing huge amount of works.

[swish-swish-nyoom-nyoom]

forgive the huge amount of tags, but i'm feeling something between hilarity and deep, deep awe rn, and to explain why i need to talk about the context

[pauking5]

my heart calls your name

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x reader

Genre: modern life mutual pining, friends to lovers, there's spice, smut, fluff, Zoro is a normal being with feelings and reader has personality

Word count: 20.1k+ (new recount)

Part 1

A/N: This is the sequel to New Year, New Me :) Firstly, I would suggest reading Part 1 before this one. Secondly, I started working on this as soon as I finished the first part and it has been a wip for 3 months. It was supposed to be a Valentine's gift but my writing went into a slump. But, I pushed through and wrote it. It went through so much editing, simply because I wanted to get Zoro as right as possible. He's everything to me so I wanted to give you an almost perfect piece of him.

Lastly, prepare for a long rollercoaster of everything. Literally everything.

Now playing: Did It Again - Shakira, we can't be friends - ariana grande, Sometimes - MUNA, Eres Mia - Romeo Santos, Only Love Can Hurt Like This - Paloma Faith, All Night - Beyonce, La La Lost You - NIKI, pretty boy - M2M

(because I couldn't pick just one song :') )

Early morning of January 1st

Heels and green-haired man on your arm, you walked around looking for a place to eat at. The sand between your toes felt warm, welcoming the first glimmering rays of sun, the sea just as excited to wash away the old and bring new tides afloat. Though early, the air buzzed with the atmosphere of the previous night, faint music still playing from the houses nearby.

You passed by multiple cafes and diners but they all closed early in the morning to go on holiday. Every knock on the door was met with an apologetic smile, sending you out to venture further down the beach in hopes of at least finding a vendor that was still selling food.

Just when you thought all hope was lost, you spotted a restaurant that was still open. Today's menu was plastered out on a board outside with the schedule that said they're still serving for a bit. Just enough to grab a bite.

Picking out a table overlooking the azure sea, you went to pull out a chair when Zoro stopped you to do it for you. Shaking your head with a smile at his gentlemanly mannerisms, you sat down as he pushed it closer to the table before sitting down on the opposite side.

You scoured the menu, stomach twisting in hunger at all the food combinations. Salmon on a bed of baked wedges, mussels boiled in white wine, even your usual chicken tenders - this place had everything. It was hard to pick just one thing, but you had to make up your mind before your insides started digesting themselves.

Zoro didn't have it any easier than you. He perched the menu in one hand while the other sat on his chin as he contemplated what looked awfully like the drinks page. From the way he bit his lip in thinking and the way his sleeves were messily made up to his elbow, he himself looked appetizing enough for you.

"Something tells me you're not that hungry," he flashed you a knowing smirk under the pretense that he was looking at beverages.

"I am," you stated, sheepishly diverting your eyes back to your own menu.

"Then why are you browsing me instead of today's special?"

At that you closed your menu and sat back, folding your arms over your chest. So, audacity is indeed a manly thing.

"You are scrumptious, I'll give you that," you admitted, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Only that?" he wiggled his eyebrows from behind his menu and you couldn't help but break into a giggle at his playful behaviour.

Is this the same man I drank a whole bottle of champagne with last night? I'm pretty sure he slept less than I did but he seems more energetic than anyone could ever be this early. Interesting.

"We'll see," you said, pulling your lips into a thin line to prevent a grin that would give away most of your thoughts about him that were, let's say, more than scrumptious could entail.

The waiter came over and took your order with a little flirting around you. Though sweet in his remarks, you had to admit he had nothing on the man sitting in front of you. But, you engaged in it simply because you wanted to gauge an innocent reaction. And you did.

Seeing Zoro's hand tighten on the tissue box like it was one of his mortal enemies, you smiled internally. So, he's territorial too. Poor paper crunched under the strength of his fist, knuckles white from making sure no corner escaped its crumpling demise. Once the waiter was gone with your orders, he let go and leaned back in his seat looking out at the sea.

Your eyes landed on him accidentally, being met with a different side of him. One so different from the man you were used to seeing so rough and isolated in his corner at the club. Because right now, he looked so at peace, like this was his natural habitat - close to the sea dancing in the glimmer of the sun with the golden sands in the background.

The soft morning breeze caressed through his green locks, moving them in waves mirroring the calm ones out on the shore. His golden earrings jingled around each other like they were singing their own tune cradled in the arms of the wind. His shirt was now fully dry from your late night splashing game, a few more buttons let loose giving you a peak of his chest. Palm curled around his chin, there was not a thought harbored behind those deep brown eyes.

A heavenly dream walking planet Earth.

The small twinkle reflecting in the corner of his eye made you look out to the water too, curious as to what was so fascinating out there. Though this time, it was his turn to sneak a peek at you while you weren't looking.

His jacket was still snugly wrapped around you, long sleeves neatly rolled up to the cusp of your forearms. Your hair was thrown in a messy bun with a few loose curls falling over your collar bones. Though tired circles rimmed your eyes from staying up with him the night before, talking about everything and nothing at all, your lips were pulled into a soft smile. As if you had the most restful sleep. In his arms of all places.

And that made something bloom in his chest. Something so unknown yet so familiar, almost like the anticipation of what could be if he let his walls down. Only god knew that he was ready to let them all fall down if this was the beginning of something good. Something that he's been waiting for a long time.

It wasn't long until your food arrived. After a long debate, you settled on a creamy shrimp pasta because who doesn't like pasta? You could eat pasta at any time of the day and your stomach would thank you. Although, Zoro's fried chicken wings looked so much more inviting for some reason. Maybe it was the way his eyes closed in delight at the taste on barely his first bite or how he gobbled on them with all the sauce streaming down his lips like they were the very essence of immortality. But those wings looked divine.

He saw you ogling his plate as you mindlessly poked a shrimp around and was about to ask if you wanted one when you just reached out and stole one. You dipped it quickly in the sauce and stuffed the whole thing in your mouth, sighing in the same delightful manner he did. Those were some amazing chicken wings.

"I was just about to offer you one."

"Food tastes so much better when you steal it away," you said, licking your fingers off the leftover sauce. They were just your regular chicken wings but something about them being placed neatly on his plate made them taste so much better than they would have if you ordered them yourself.

You turned back to your pasta and forked a shrimp. Before it could reach your mouth, a firm hand wrapped around your wrist and your fork was redirected to Zoro's lips instead. He bit the shrimp off of it, imitating the sound of delight you previously let out after stealing his chicken wing.

"Hey! That was the shrimp I kept for last."

"That's too bad," he said with his mouth full. "It looked too good to be left for last."

"Then I will have this one," you stole another chicken wing. "And this one and that one and-"

"Then these little shrimps are mine!" he took your whole plate of pasta away leaving you with the stolen wings hanging in the air.

That's how you ended up sitting next to each other to share your dishes together. You kept poking at his as he did with yours, thing that became a custom for you in the coming month.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner and everything in between, they were all consumed together in each other's presence.

Among a few other things.

Grocery runs whenever your fridge was empty, since he liked crashing at your place more often than you could count.

Movie nights spent debating all the romcoms you could find where he would give you a piece of his mind on how much of a douchebag the main lead was and yelling at the tv 'stop being an idiot and go get the girl' on the usual. The neighbors ended up at your door sometimes, asking you to have mercy on their ears and keep it down.

Whenever romantic scenes came on screen, your fingers would always find each other on top of your couch, tangling together just slightly. But he would never admit that he was a romantic at heart, even when his hazy eyes, soft hands and raising heartbeat gave that away. Even when your own beat wildly, inviting him in.

You even went to the gym together a few times, though that endeavor ended as quickly as it started.

"Come on, push it. Bend your knee more. One more time!"

"I'm really trying to, but this is heavy as fuck!" you pushed the leg press feeling the weight thrash your ham strings apart.

"Your body will thank you tomorrow."

"Not if I die today," you gritted out.

"Tell you what. You do three more and you can flip me off all you want."

"I can do that without breaking my knees. What's in it for you?"

"You grant me a wish when I ask for it."

"What kind of wish?" you perked an eyebrow up in suspicion.

"You'll find out when the time comes."

Determined to get your rights of the bet fair and square, you pushed with all your might and completed one. With some struggle and curses, you managed one more push before you felt your knees give in, accepting defeat. That was probably your last leg press forever since you deemed it the demon's machine.

Your legs dropped like dead weight on the floor, heaving breaths as if you ran a full marathon. Disappointment hit you that you lost while the man beside you broke into the biggest grin you've ever seen on his face. It felt almost magnetic to see him like that, a nudge pulling at your own lips that you tried to hide. What loser is happy when his opponent wins?

"You owe me now."

If he was a girl he would've squealed. He was literally beaming with joy.

"Spare me the pride bullshit and give me water."

He handed you his own bottle as he crouched down next to you, patting the sweat on the side of your face with a towel making sure to swipe dry even your baby hairs that were sticking up on all sides.

When you told him you wanted to try working out with him, though you weren't big on physical exercise, he was over the moon. Studying you as you laid on the bench, drenched in sweat and with your cheeks filled with water, you were a sight to see. He knew you wouldn't believe him if he told you, but you were glowing brighter than the bright sun outside.

"I'm proud of you,"

You turned to look at him. He wore his gear but did not make a move from beside you the whole time you were at the gym. He trained you on his usual routine, toned down to your own pace, but it turned out to be way harder than he made it look.

Even so, he was there coaching you through it all the way. When you felt like you couldn't do more, he helped you put a little bit more into it with little encouragements like these.

"You're gonna have to carry me home," you breathed out, stretching your aching limbs. "You know that, right?"

"I know," he accepted his demise. "That will be my exercise."

"Are you saying I'm as heavy as the dumbbells you're lifting?"

"You said it not me."

"You little shit."

You were the biggest homebody that's ever homebodied but somehow he managed to do the impossible and get you out of the house. But as romantic as the outings seemed sometimes, he acted like it was just two good friends hanging out.

Nothing more, nothing less.

And that bugged you. Because this wasn't friendly behaviour.

Friends don't take you out on a walk at 2 am when you can't find sleep, twirling you around to let loose in the dead of night, with a lone streetlight lighting your way. Friends don't hold your hand as jazz music plays in some edgy café you wanted to try, playing with your fingers that always end up caged between their longer, bulkier ones as you talk over steaming coffee.

Friends don't look at you like that.

Like you could be more, mean more, feel more.

Maybe you were being selfish, but the more time you spent with him the harder it became to part ways. Even if you saw each other the next day, it just wasn't enough for you. You wanted him to stay a little more. Hold your hand a little more.

As slow January turned into warm February, your feelings evolved and you craved to have him around in more than just one way.

Slowly but surely and a little against your will, you found yourself falling for the green-haired guy you kissed on new year's.

And boy, you fell hard.

Present Day

It's Valentine's Day. Oh, how you dreaded this one too. Maybe even more than New Year's.

It was the over-exaggerated displays of affection from strangers on the street, plastering kisses on each other's swollen lips like they would die without getting into a heated make-out session every five minutes. Or the way the florists had heart-shaped balloons tied to bouquets mixed in pinks, whites and reds in every single window. Or the fact that most chocolate was on the best sale price you could get it just because it was a special occasion.

All of it was just a ploy to say love exists and that the world will stop at nothing to capitalize the living hell out of it.

But that was just part of the reason you carried an anti-romantic persona around today. This time you had a reason. There was a love interest on your horizon and you were annoyed that he was too lost drifting in his own world to notice how enamored you were with him.

It was crazy how quickly you fell for him. You promised yourself that fast love wouldn't be the norm anymore. That you would take your time to keep it steady, consistent and cautious. Until he crash landed into your life ripping the safety net that you've threaded for so long at the seams so skillfully, little by little, until you were free-falling.

You needed him. As simple as that. The flirting, the sweet-talking, the teasing. It was all just Cupid's stash of poison arrows aimed and shot deeply into your heart every time you saw him. To make you fall in deeper into an unfamiliar ocean where you couldn't see the top of the water.

You needed him. Before you would go and make a fool of yourself and ruin the great bond you already had for some feelings. Before he would sew his existence onto your soul, your conscience, your very being completely and it would become too much to bear.

You needed him. To see how loving him could feel like.

The digital clock on your bedside table read 2:30 pm. You sat in bed most of the day, whizzing through tv channels faster and faster with every romance movie playing, every news channel talking about this wretched day and how lovers planned to spend it, every love song playing on the radio.

Romance was everywhere and you couldn't do anything to escape it.

Sick of the world and the pure existence of love, you shut the tv off throwing the remote to the other end of the bed and watched the seconds on the clock trickle away, wishing for this day to finally end.

You flipped on your back, letting out a long sigh as the empty ceiling gave way to thoughts of him again. Sighing, you closed your eyes trying to think of something else. But all roads led back to him.

You kind of expected him to make some plans with you even if it was something small like going to get coffee and walk around, though you knew he wasn't one to do things like that.

It wasn't even a minute that he crossed your mind and your phone screen lit up with his name. Cursing telepathy thinking and the universe for loving to bask in your misery, you picked it up finding a surprisingly nervous Zoro on the other line.

"What's up-"

"You, me, tonight. Pick you up at 5?" he rambled quickly and out of breath.

"What?" you asked, trying to make sense of his words.

"I want to take you out tonight," he repeated, a bit more composed than the first time.

"That sounded a little better," you smiled, turning around on your belly.

"Can I take you out tonight?" he asked again, voice way softer and determined than the usual playfulness you grew accustomed to.

What happened to overly cocky Zoro?

"I don't know," you drew out, playing with the hem of the duvet to smoothen the material out, pointer finger spelling the outline of his name absentmindedly on top of it. "Can you?"

You heard him sigh exasperatedly on the other side as you took your sweet time replying. A little payback for waiting so long would hurt no one.

"Jesus, woman. I really want to take you out someplace nice tonight so get dressed as comfortable as you'd like and answer the door at 5. That sound better?"

"It sounded great. I'll be waiting."

"Okay." You could hear his smile through the phone. "See you at 5."

"See you at 5."

The call ended and you stared blankly at the ceiling again, hugging the phone to your chest. His words started seeping into your brain and the realization that he finally asked you out on what was possibly an official date made you grab a pillow to scream into.

"OH MY GOD I'M GOING ON A DATE," you yelled. "Okay, play it cool. Play it cool," you took deep breaths to calm down before something else threw you into panic. "What the fuck am I gonna wear?"

You ran to your closet, throwing it open. Racking through it in a haste since you didn't have the luxury of time, you threw whatever you could find that looked somewhat put together on the bed. Clothes came flying on and off your body as you did a whole catwalk show in front of the mirror. Huffing out in desperation at the mess around your room, you came to the conclusion that none of the outfits looked fit for the occasion.

You needed something to make his eyes pop out of his sockets. Something that would make him see what he's missing and to take that extra step to you. Something...

Tapping your cheek in thinking, you spun around to your closet with a gasp. You ran back to it and sorted out through more hangers, digging all the way into the back until you finally found it. A dress you bought specifically in case you ever got a date that was worth putting in the effort for.

The heart stealer, you called it.

A flowy deep-red satin dress falling just below your knees. It had a sweetheart neckline and straps to hold your jewels better than a bra ever could, the bodice hugging your middle perfectly. Elegant, sexy and comfy, all in one. Plus, the ends twirled around so nicely every time you spun around, imitating a petticoat effect, and the length complimented your height.

She's the one, you smiled.

The time on your phone read 4:57 pm, three minutes before your agreed pick-up time. You've been struggling to put your earrings on for a while now and were growing slightly nervous, thing that wasn't really helping as your hands shook with a burst of impatience. Putting the earrings down before you accidentally pierced your ear, you let out a breath and looked in the mirror. Which made it all worse.

Your eyes jumped around to analyze the way your hair was down and curled unevenly, if you squinted, to how your eyeliner on the right looked slightly more winged than the one on the left. Even the dress straps sat on your shoulders a little too uncomfortably. Suddenly, your confidence faltered and you questioned everything about your outfit.

Is the dress too comfortable?

I'm underdressed, aren't I?

Where is he even taking me?

I look like a walking cherry. Why do I have so much red on me-

A soft knock echoed through your apartment. Your date was here. Taking a deep breath for reassurance and fixing yourself in the wall mirror one more time, you let it be and moved to open the door.

At the door, you were met with the man that plagued your every waking thought. He wore a loose shirt that looked vintage with a few buttons left open and casual dark navy blue tailored pants, falling loosely from his waist. They gave the impression he was taller than he actually was. The way he dressed without as much as batting an eye, you would raid his wardrobe any day.

He leaned forwards to place a courting kiss on your cheek, the closeness engulfing you in his musky vanilla scent you grew so fond of. You could scent him in a crowd of people like a wolf looking for his lost mate. His lips lingered enough to have blood rush to your cheek, feeling it singe as soon as he pulled away the slightest. It surprisingly made you feel calm, forgetting what you were even stressing about in the first place.

Shaking yourself out of the daze, you stepped aside and invited him inside. Something in his hands completely stole your eyes away from him before he even got the chance to offer it to you.

"ARE THOSE MILKA HEARTS?!" you shrieked as he meekly handed you the chocolates. Your heart raced at the gesture, cradling the box closer.

"I have never seen anyone be so loyal to just one brand of chocolate. It's literally all you eat."

"Because they are amazing and they're not too sweet or too expensive. They have so many flavors, even biscuits, ice cream, hot chocolate. Anything you could ever dream of that could be made out of chocolate, they have it. They're just right and perfect," you smiled as you spun around with the box held closely to your chest like it was your most prized possession, the ends of your dress slightly swirling around you.

"Oh, I know," he chuckled at your obsession with the chocolates. "You literally lick the hot chocolate mug clean after you drink it."

"Can't blame me for having a sweet tooth. Thank you for these." You placed them on the counter, deciding against opening the box just yet.

"Do I get something in return for delivering them to you?"

You saw his plan from a mile away - he was chasing a kiss, this time coming from your own initiative. Before you thought it through, your lips were on their way to connect with his cheek in a short but sweet peck.

"How does this do?"

Before you let go, he tensed and you felt it, grinning mischievously on the inside. If he thought you would shy away, especially tonight, he had another thing coming. Two can play this tango.

"Your sweetness is rubbing off on me."

He's saying that as if you didn't catch the slight twitch of his lips and the faintest tint of pink on the tip of his ears before he turned back to being his serious self.

"Is that such a bad thing now?" you countered.

"To be assessed," he piped up, leaning against the counter as he watched you pace around the apartment to finish getting ready.

"Tease."

"You love it."

"I actually hate it."

"You're such a bad liar."

"Maybe, maybe not" you giggled to yourself.

Truth be told, you enjoyed his teasing a lot even if it was overwhelming sometimes. On most days, it made you forget your worries and he managed to pull a smile so genuine out of you that you didn't even know you had.

"You, uh... look nice by the way," he rubbed the back of his neck, taking in your attire from top to bottom properly this time.

Nice wasn't even the word he wanted to use. Beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, those sounded more like what he had in mind. The more he looked at you in that red dress, the more he had the urge to close the distance between you, press you against the mirror you paced in front of and smudge that cherry tint off your lips with his own, all the while his hands tangled in your curls.

That... that felt like more than what nice could ever encompass.

"Thank you," you said, the surprise present in your voice cracking him out of his thoughts. "So, what's the itinerary for tonight?"

"It's a secret."

"Is it now?"

"I want you to have a nice time and not overthink it too much. So, you'll just have to wait and see."

"Okay, mister Kinder Surprise. I'll just follow your lead on this one."

Normally, he would come up with an idea and you would plan out the itinerary down to the smallest detail. You weren't sure what he had in mind for today, but at least your outfits matched in comfy and classy levels.

Going back to the mirror, you took another look at yourself and realized he was right. You did look nice. You were just overthinking it. Funny how he already knows what sets you off from enjoying yourself.

Grabbing the earrings again, you tried putting one hoop in only to have it slide to the other side. The closing was just too narrow for your small ears and it annoyed you greatly. You were ready to just leave without them when Zoro stepped in the mirror frame next to you. He held his palm out to you looking at the earrings and you obliged with a sigh.

Placing your hair behind your ear, he wiggled the golden hoop around your ear lobe as you watched through the mirror. The proximity sent your heart thundering. You willed it to stop and take to a regular rhythm before he took note and teased you even more.

Looking for something else to focus on, you found his reflection in the mirror, holding the earring with utmost care and attention. Your eyes flew to his and the tug at his lower lip, the concentration on his face making you blush. He was determined to get those earrings on your ears no matter what.

"My ears are just too small for girly shit," you said, looking down to avoid his intense gaze.

"They're not. You're just a really impatient being when it comes to doing things properly for yourself," he said, successfully clipping the earring in. "There. See?" he tilted his head to look at you with that twinkling glint in his eye. "Pretty."

I could kiss your lips right now. And your eyes and your nose and your lips again. I don't think I could stop.

"Dork," you pushed him away, conscious that you were running behind on time. "Come on, I can't go out with only one earring in."

"Give me a second, Speedy Gonzales."

He put the other one in for you as well and rolled them around so they were both facing the same way.

"Look at you," he checked you out from head to your unheeled toes. "You look like you came out of a shop window."

"Oh, yeah? Which shop window?"

"The supermarket."

"I can change into my pajamas sooooo fast and you can just go out by yourself," you patted his chest grinning wickedly. "How does that sound?"

"Okay, okay. I'm just messing with you," he handed you your bag and held out his arm to you as a peace offering. You rolled your eyes at him and put your heels on using the sturdiness of his arm for balance and fixed yourself up one more time. "Ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

He walked you out front to his car, opening the door for you as he held his arm to his chest like a butler while you did a little curtsy before you got in. A little running joke between you since you always ended up being the passenger princess. His passenger princess.

Everything about his car was so Zoro. He drove a dark green jeep, convertible when needed but currently patched up since the rainy weather of early spring was more frequent now. A raspberry Charmander air freshener dangled from the rearview mirror, where you put it on your last grocery run. He constantly argued with you over the fact that its too cute for his car.

"My car is a military tank. Not the Kids' Express," he would say.

"If anything, it's giving the Fun Express now."

But you knew he silently loved it. He had a habit of poking it with his finger each time he got in the car so it would spin around, spreading the fresh smell of berries around.

He got in the car placing the key in ignition and poked it. You smiled turning to look out the window. Kid.

As he drove, the scenery changed from the chaotic city jungle of cars evading rush hour to the more peaceful part of the coastline. The sun was just starting to set, bright orange and yellow painting the sky in lively hues. Some pop song played on the radio making the whole scene look even more tropical.

Zoro rolled the windows down, letting the air flow through and put the song a little louder. You caught up on this habit of his pretty early on - if he heard a song he liked he would make sure you knew it too. Even when you were sitting in heavy traffic and everybody looked at you weirdly. If he knew the song, he might even mumble a few lines with a grin. That made your little crush on him even stronger.

Hope that you will wait for me You'll see that you're the only one for me ~

The lyrics blared over the speakers, emotional yet comforting about falling in love. He leaned back in his seat and snuck a few glances at you. Your hair was blowing in the wind, falling on the back of your seat. Arm laid flat on top of the window frame tapping along to the beat, you looked at the view of the seaside with a smile on your lips. Your other hand sat on your knee, a little too lonely for his liking.

All I really want is to hold you tight Treat you right, be with you day and night Baby all I need is time ~

Adjusting a hand on the wheel, his other one stretched to get a hold of yours, intertwining them together to the beat of the song. Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden contact turning warm atop your thigh. Looking down at your entwined hands, you noticed how his thumb covered yours in guarding, a routine you grew familiar with every time they met in the same space. His eyes were trained on the road but the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips was solely directed at you.

You will be the death of me, Roronoa Zoro.

Parking the car turned difficult considering everyone was out and about tonight. You barely found a spot somewhere next to the beach. Once parked, Zoro got off and came to your side extending a hand to help you down, heels landing safely on the sidewalk.

You were getting a little impatient and you hoped your nerves wouldn't get the best out of you when the air was still so clear between you. But the questions itched on the back of your tongue until you couldn't hold them back anymore.

"So, what's the plan? How much longer are you gonna keep me in the dark?"

He turned to you with a mysterious grin, debating on whether he should tell you or not.

Someone seems to be enjoying themselves at the expense of my sanity.

"The plan for tonight is just fun."

Well that explains everything I needed to know.

"The amusement park up ahead kind of gave that part away," you pointed out to the Ferris wheel bathed in strobe lights, standing tall ahead in the middle of dozens of games and food stands.

Walking side by side, you followed the crowds of couples into the mayhem still suspicious of what the plan actually entailed. Your gaze wandered down to the ground where you found another thing that calmed you. Unknowingly, your steps matched each other's in a balanced rhythm as you followed his lead. Your lips pursed to hide another small smile.

"That's not the only thing I have planned out for tonight," he informed you, checking his watch. "First, let's go loosen up a little."

Your first stop on tonight's itinerary was the club where you first met. It's been a few months since you both laid eyes on the other, circling the dance floor for nights on end to make your mutual interest known.

Months since your little crush born out of seeking real love took off and made space for feelings. Feelings that nowadays chased you to the brink of madness. You could only hope a trip down memory lane would settle them and give you confirmation that your heart isn't tangled in yet another unrequited love story.

It was Latino beats night. The extended terrace was cleared for an outdoor dance floor, stretching all the way to the end of the beach touching the overlapping waves. Fairy lights hung above from tree to tree, warming up the atmosphere in a golden glow. The drinks at the bar had mini red umbrellas to match the theme.

A bartender came to serve you as soon as you sat down at the bar, pointing you to all the Valentine's recommendations. The cheesy names on the cocktails made a shiver run down your spine in repulse so you turned to the normal range instead since you already knew that one inside out.

"What would you like to order?"

Some sweet liquid courage would do me well tonight.

"A piña colada for me," you ordered.

"A mocktail of that for me," asked Zoro, almost as quickly as your own order rolled off your lips.

Mocktail? That sounds unlike Zoro.

Lifting a curious eyebrow at his request, your eyes narrowed on him for a quick mood scan. You barely saw it but it was definitely there. Tension. He was on edge, rapping his fingers on the wooden bar restlessly, foot tapping to the tempo of the current song playing. Impatient sounds more like it.

"Not drinking today?"

"I will. Just not yet," he smirked, as if he had more opportunities to drink lined up later. Well, frankly, you didn't know what followed later, so you asked for more glasses of alcohol.

The song changed to a slow, sensual bachata as the crowd took to the dance floor. Some pairs looked experienced, busting moves in perfect sync with the strings like this was their regular night out to serve some class. They must be fun at parties.

Others could barely get their feet coordinated, unable to decide who would be the one to lead. The changing rhythm, slow at first then rising faster, had them spinning out of control, gripping onto each other for dear life as they laughed it off and tried again together.

Your relationship with Zoro was kind of like that - uncoordinated in your dance to reach each other's heart with normal steps. Every time one got way too close to the other you took detours, going back to square one. But you kept trying. Together.

Zoro saw you looking at the couples with a longing he's seen before, during your first nights at the club. He wasn't an idiot. He knew that longing himself though he didn't know how to express it. But a tight-lipped curl of your lips at the ground had him pulling on your hand in an instant, eyes motioning to the dance floor. Confused at first, you slowly got a rough idea of what he was suggesting and shook your head.

"I'm not drunk enough to dance yet," you lied, trying to get him off your case. You were too sober to trust your heart that close around him just yet.

"Isn't that the beauty of it?"

The tension washing off of him just moments ago wore off into mischief and playfulness. There he was. Your Zoro.

"Are you sure that was a mocktail?" you quipped, suspicious at his sudden change in mood.

"Yes, it was a mocktail." The look he gave you, full of intensity and certainty was enough to tell you he was dead serious. "I just really want to dance with you."

"Okay, fine."

His hand grasped yours as you hopped off the bar stool, pulling you deeper into the moving crowd. Once he found a spot, he tugged you to him in a twirl. Your back landed against his chest, his deep, steady breaths falling right at the tip of your ear. Swaying from side to side, his palms wandered down to your own, lacing your fingers together, squeezing lightly. His touch turned your insides sticky with something akin to desire. His familiar scent overpowered your senses, musky vanilla turning tropic from that mocktail he had, lingering to the depths of your soul. His presence behind you, assertive, dominating and reassuring at the same time, lit up your whole body with fiery tingles.

He lifted your arms up, getting impossibly closer to you as the pads of his fingers reached up to yours, dancing down to your shoulders in a flow of their own where they fell with the rise of the chorus, briskly spinning you to face him. He placed your hands on his shoulders as you stepped back and forth, bouncing up and down to the music, eyes solely trained on you and no one else, nothing else.

In the synergy of the moment, he finally saw you.

It took him a while to understand but you were his rhythm. He couldn't lose you after he finally found it - the frequency of your heart beating to guide his own. If he lost track of you now, he would lose himself again. Among all the other hearts beating in hundreds of other tempos next to yours, he only wanted to move with yours.

You swayed right a little too hard, leg flying next to his hip. His arm shot out to catch it as the on on the small of your back pulled you close, breaths mingling in a flutter harmonious to the one in your stomach, multiplying it tenfold.

Upon releasing your leg, his hand trailed over the thin material of your dress, from your thigh all the way to your waist, where it got a better grip. One that wouldn't let you sway that hard again. Goosebumps burned on the path he carved into your skin and you found yourself closing your eyes on a shaky exhale.

You were shuddering in his hold and he barely did anything but hold you. When you opened them, he was still eye to eye with you, unmoving, patient, waiting for you.

He drowned out everyone else. The chatter, the music, the alcohol pumping through your veins. You couldn't take your eyes off him even if you tried and frankly, you didn't want to.

No words needed to be said as you let your bodies do the talking. The smaller the space grew between you, the simpler things seemed. It was clear as day your heart kept calling for him in a million ways and you denied it enough.

You wanted to have his eyes on you at all times. To have his lips all to yourself. To get the confirmation that he felt exactly what you felt. That he wanted all these things you wanted too.

He spun you out, reeling you back in against his chest. He looked down at you. You looked up at him.

They were close - those damned lips of his. Pink and soft laying on pink and even softer. Just a breath away. Until he broke your gaze.

Whatever bubble you were in popped and all too suddenly, the reality hit you again. They weren't yours to kiss. They were no ones. Forbidden.

The music filtered in your ears way too loud. People bumped into you from all sides. It was too much in too little of a moment to drown in your insecurities again, when his warm touch asked for your attention and his eyes met yours again.

"Wanna get out of here?" he rasped in your ear.

"You read my mind."

The sky announced the coming of night, faint purple clouds flying above the blue. You headed to your next destination, the amusement park. Looking at all the attractions, you had your first pick on the bumpy cars. They were childish, but they were fun enough to pull you out of your misery. At least for a while.

Hopping into the rink, you were barely strapped into your bumper when he rammed into your back at full speed, rattling your seat hard. He really is a child. But you were a bigger child. You didn't hold back either, chasing and cornering him, only to crash straight into the front of his bumpy car, cackling like a maniac.

At one point he disappeared into the crowd of cars as the lights grew dimmer. Keeping your guard up for a sneak attack, you rounded the sidelines cautiously, trying to avoid being caught in the middle of other people's warfare. Just when you stopped to turn and search the rink again, he marched up to hit you from the side only for you to dodge it like a pro. His car rammed into the edge of the rink, jaw dropped in shock as you bellowed with laughter at him.

His driving pride got shaken a little from your bumpy car skills, but you were smiling again. That's all that mattered to him.

Once your time was up, you were pulled to another ride, this time of Zoro's pick. Knowing him, it would be something too adventurous and risky to ride. You realized where he was taking you way too late - the highest roller coaster in the area. Instantly, you shook his hand off, backtracking behind him. That thing looked like what nightmares are made of.

"Hell nah, I am not getting on that."

Thinking you had a choice was a mistake since he pulled a wildcard on you. A wildcard you wished you never agreed to in the first place if you knew it would come back to bite you in the ass.

"Remember that bet we had at the gym that you lost?" Motherfucker. "I think it's time you make that wish come true."

And to think he gave you the impression it would be an innocent wish back then. All men do is lie.

"That's not fair," you argued, trying to think of a way to convince him to use his wish on something else. Something that didn't involve your stomach switching places with your other organs. Coming empty handed, you slumped your shoulders like a child being denied their favourite toy and got in the line with him.

Your leg bounced up anxiously with each pair admitted for a ride in front of you. The screams of the people on the rollercoaster screeched in your ears. You took a gulp of air to calm your nerves just as Zoro's lips brushed to your ear out of nowhere, almost giving you a heart attack.

"Nothing's going to happen to you. I'll be there to hold your hand."

Is he taking the piss? Hold my hand? How about you hold your balls secure before I kick them to the fucking sky-

Your thoughts were interrupted when something clicked fixed around you. The straps to the ride seat. You squirmed around uncomfortably to find a better position that felt safer, but being in that seat itself was not safe in any way. The straps were safe and secure but not safe enough.

"Zoro, I'm getting off."

To your disappointment, the megaphone called out that the next cart was going up and the ride started moving. Despite having multiple piña coladas at the club to calm your nerves, you still felt the panic grip you a little and grabbed a tight hold of the security holds keeping you in place, shutting your eyes and praying that this torture would end sooner.

"Hey, hey, hey." His voice called out to you softer than you've ever heard it before, willing you to focus on him. "Look at me."

"No, thank you," you chuckled uneasily. "If I open my eyes I will see my impending doom," you continued, feeling your heart thrumming in your chest as the ascent began quicker than you expected it to.

"Then give me your hand."

"I want to smack you over the head with it." Tremors took over your hands slightly, aware of how high you were going. "Why did I agree to this?"

"Because you like keeping to your word and it's something I admire about you."

He does? Oh, that's sweet- Wait I'm still mad at him.

"Please don't give me the compliment bullshit right now," you groaned through deep breaths.

"It's true though," he said, keeping his calm composure.

You cracked one eye open at him to see him looking only at you, anchored to your eyes like you were his view of the safe harbor in the tempest, the eye of the storm far away from reaching you.

Suddenly, everything was fine. All was good. It was just you and him on the same boat going in the same direction. Nothing could rock your boat.

Until you felt the ride stop and the urge to look around grew and despite all efforts, you gave into it. You were standing on the highest point, overlooking the whole park. You stopped breathing just looking around at the point ahead on the horizon where the sky met the sea, surprised to see the moon and the twinkling stars peak through the cover of clouds. The view would've been spectacular if it wasn't a few seconds till the train would drop.

"No no no, don't look-" he tried to warn you before you did the opposite.

"WE'RE GONNA FUCKING DIE!" you screeched.

"-down."

"If we don't die now, I will kill you myself when we're back on the ground for choosing to make such a stupid wish. I swear to GOD-" you were cut off as the train fell down into the drop.

Against your wishes, you grabbed onto his hand and held on for dear life, screaming as loud as your lungs could let you. You let out everything you've been holding inside for the past month in one strong yell. Zoro let out a few surprising yelps too, holding tighter onto your hand. The whole thing was over and done with before you knew it and you found yourself actually enjoying it. Not one hundred percent but a good amount of you did.

All that work to curl your hair only to get a blow out when you got back to the ground. It stuck up all sides, curls dismantled from the sheer force of the drop but still standing. Your hands patted it down with a pout, making Zoro take the matter into his own hands, brushing through your hair to fix it. His hands felt so soothing on your scalp, taming your earlier rage at being dragged to that death trap.

"You acted all cool only to yelp like a school girl during the drop," you giggled, his yelps still fresh in your mind.

"No, I didn't," he argued.

"I think the people that sat behind us would beg to disagree. At least own up to the fact that you were a teeny tiny bit scared."

"I don't fear anything."

"Oh yeah? Look behind you."

"What could possibly be so scary behind me- WHAT THE FUCK!" he yelled as he came face to face with a person dressed as a clown, carrying around balloons. He almost punched them on impulse.

"I don't fear anything my ass," you looked at him as he put down his fist and apologized. Once he was certain they left, he straightened his posture and cleared his throat.

"I was just startled," he said, trying to assure you that the statement he made was true. But you got used to seeing through his bullshit.

"Sure you were. Wanna try the haunted house over there then?" you pointed to the shack where a few people just ran out from, some full on sobbing. A scream came from inside, his eyes going wide and that was all you needed to know. Roronoa Zoro did have fears.

"Absolutely not."

"You sure? Nothing's gonna happen to you. I can hold your hand," you teased him like he teased you before the rollercoaster ride.

"Did you say you want popcorn? I'm gonna go get us some popcorn," he laughed, looking for an excuse.

"Okay. Meet you by the benches?"

"Sure."

Walking around, you stumbled upon a long queue of couples lined up to go on the Ferris wheel clogging most of the circulation around the park. If you were being honest, the rollercoaster was much more fun than waiting for hours to see an overpriced five minutes coast view could ever be. Besides, you could drive up the road and see that for free too.

You walked around some more when one of the stands stopped you in your tracks - throwing darts. It wasn't the darts game itself that piqued your interest, but the fluffy beige bear smiling brightly, hanging above the targets. His brown eyes matched those of your green-haired man, warm chocolate infused with honey, too sweet not to stop and stare.

For some reason you found it really lonely sitting by itself up there. All the smaller prizes were won and replaced on the daily, but by the looks of it he's been there for a while, waiting for someone. No one seemed sharp enough to play the game to the end and take him home.

You wanted to take him home with you.

If only you had the darts talent running in your veins. The price for just a set of three darts was way too much and it took seven perfect shots in the bullseye of the targets to win the bear. Perks of having an amusement park next to one of the most popular beaches on the coast meant complicated games that no normal human could aspire to win.

Sparing it one last look that made your heart ache, you turned and went to sit on a bench, waiting for your date that just so happened to see you stop by the darts booth. More precisely, he saw that pout on your face as you looked at the bear hung up high above the targets when it clicked. You wanted that bear.

Zoro knew you wouldn't ask him to get it for you. You didn't like asking for things and he knew that you might not even accept it if he offered it. But the way your shoulders slumped as you walked away told him how much you wanted it.

Darts wasn't his best sport, but he was good with his aim and had a patience that could kneel most at his feet. So, he marched to the booth, placing the popcorn tubs to the side and started tracing his targets to see just what he was dealing with.

"Feeling lucky tonight?" asked the manager of the booth, a sly smile on his face at finding another victim.

Little shit. If only he knew Zoro had the power to send his little business into bankruptcy right at his fingertips. A grin of his own graced his features making the man's smile quiver at the seams.

"Oh, I'm feeling more than lucky."

He rolled up his sleeves showing he meant business and placed a wad of cash on the dirty table, picking up his first set of darts. He was dead set on getting you that bear no matter how much money he had to blow on throwing tiny arrows around.

Anything to not see that pout on your face ever again.

Shuffling your heels over the dust and rocks on the ground, you drew random patterns to busy yourself. A lot of things were weighing on your mind. You were questioning why you went out in the first place. To give this a chance, your brain told you.

To feel something, said your heart. Well, with Zoro, you felt the whole damn universe in one sitting.

There was no telling how this night would end anyways. But you were slowly starting to think Zoro ditched you there since it's been a while he left to look for popcorn. You sighed again, feeling your world tilt, when a pair of shoes stopped in front of you. You knew those shoes.

"I thought you left to get popcorn not to shake hands with the mayor-," you lifted your head up only to stop mid-sentence. Staring at him like he grew a third eye, you took in the way he balanced two tubs of popcorn under his arm and a big plushie in the other.

The fluffy bear.

"I did. They were out so I went to find another stand. And this is for you," he offered you the bear with a smile that made his dimple pop out.

That small indentation in his cheek that showed up when he puffed them on the inside, usually at times when he did something he was proud of. A pit you could hide in whenever you wanted to without him knowing.

"Buddy looked a little lonely up there," he added, tilting his head back to the booth behind him.

Looking into those plastic brown eyes, you took the bear and hugged it close to you. It was even fluffier than you thought a plushie could be. You snuggled into it noticing that it lightly caught his scent, besides the sugary theme park smell.

You teared up a little. Not out of sadness or anything, but because you were touched by the gesture. Because he noticed, which was a rare thing to come by nowadays. Zoro cared and he showed you time and time again, never once falling short to notice. To make you feel seen.

Sensing a change, he placed the popcorn down on the bench you were sitting on just moments ago, grabbing a gentle hold of your arms.

"Hey," he spoke softly, trying to reassure whatever storm pried onto you out of nowhere. His palms stroked your forearms up and down, earlier glee in his voice morphing into worry. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you shook your head looking away. It was stupid to have a crying session right now of all times.

"You look like you're about to cry. Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no! Gods, no. You didn't. You're amazing," you smiled. In an instant, your arms reached out to wrap around his waist hugging him as tight as you hugged the fluffy bear.

"Thank you, Zoro," you nuzzled your head into his chest in deep appreciation for more than the bear, hands holding tight onto the back of his shirt.

Your sudden display of affection made his ears grow pink. He silently hoped you couldn't hear the way his heart was beating from how your head was pressed to it. He wasn't sure how to respond at first but hesitantly, his arms wrapped around you too, squeezing you closer for a moment. His chin sat on top of your head as he let out a deep sigh at the comfort it brought him. If only he could hold you like this all the time.

There weren't enough words in the world to express your gratitude to him. For how well he treated you. For everything he did to make you feel happy. You just wanted to do the same for him. At least even for a little bit if this wasn't going to last.

"You're welcome," he smiled softly at you as you pulled apart from the hug. "Now, what are we naming this little guy?"

"Well, he definitely isn't little," you barked a laugh holding the bear up next to your hip. Now that you were seeing him closer, he was half your size. "I'll name him Lovey and I will be his Dovey."

"Does that mean I have competition?" his arms crossed on his chest, playing jealous. "He does seem like a worthy opponent."

"I didn't realise you were a runner-up, tough guy," you patted his chest to calm his coyness down a notch.

"Did I not make it clear enough?"

I think you and me have very different definitions of clear.

"I don't know," you teased. "Did you?"

"Guess I have to go for Plan B," he said, checking his watch again.

He checked that watch of his hundreds of times tonight. Was he in a rush? Is his prince charming cover going to dissipate like Cinderella at midnight or something?

"What's Plan B?" you asked confused, hoping he would let some information slip.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he smirked tauntingly.

This man is an ore of surprises.

You've been waiting for Zoro in front of the park for a little over half an hour. He left to look for his car a while ago and there was no sign of him yet.

Huh, funny how I keep waiting for him. Both physically and emotionally. When does it end?

The sky turned darker and grey clouds rolled over. You felt uneasiness creep up on you, especially since he mentioned a Plan B. If the club and the amusement park were Plan A, what did Plan B look like in his book?

Five more minutes passed and Zoro returned, surprisingly by walking instead of driving, car keys swinging around in his hand.

"Zoro, where's the car?"

"So, uh, bad news. I lost the car," he smiled apologetically, pressing his hands together.

"What do you mean you lost the car? It's a huge jeep. How hard can it be to find a huge... jeep," you motioned around only to stop as you realized most of the cars around looked exactly like his. "Oh."

"Yeah, charm of living on the coast. But good news is that we are in walking distance from my place which was final destination. Though that surprise is kinda ruined now."

"I don't know what exactly you have planned at your place though," you stated, fishing for details.

"You have a point. Well, I can just come and look for it tomorrow."

He says that as if it's a daily occurrence for him to lose a jeep to the hands of sense. Though that made you think. Just how many times did he lose his car around here? But you'd rather not ask. So you asked something else.

"Won't you get a ticket?"

"Most parking around here is free."

"That's fine then," you shrugged, getting up with Lovey under your arm. "What about Plan B?"

Come on, dude. Give me a clue. Just one hint.

"It's on the way," was all he said as he extended his arm to you.

Okay, then no clue.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

Of all the places you expected to make a pit stop at, Home Depot was the last thing on your list. Zoro had to pick up a bulb for his kitchen light that has been in his shopping notes for the past two months. Two. months. This is exactly why you make the lists on your grocery runs. He always forgets something.

In one hand you held your new fluffy companion close, while Zoro held onto your free one while you padded through the departments to reach the light section. Like any self-respecting humans, you stopped by the furniture section to look at a few sofas and test their softness together. They were so comfortable to sit on but you already had one in your apartment and from what Zoro let on he had one too many. Now, you wanted to reach final destination sooner.

A bit more waddling around floorings and hardware and you finally reached it - the beauty that was the light section. Bulbs of all kinds for all purposes, orientally decorated lamps and simple to more lavish strings of lights hung around each rack, one calling out more than the other.

The section extended into an extra part that seemed to have been arranged more recently. It called to you so you left Zoro looking for his bulb as you went to explore it more.

Following the multicolor trail bouncing off the racks, you came to a makeshift panel widening into the middle of the department. It was built to look like an arch of some sort. Like the kind you would see in extravagant wedding settings.

Fairy lights and crystal chandeliers of all shapes dripped down to paint the grey floors in a myriad of colours. You ventured under it, looking at all the ambient and decorative designs on display. A few lamps were so beautiful you seriously considered redecorating. Although, the warm golden light of a chandelier in the middle of the ensemble drew you in, its intricate framework sending rays of light reflecting from all lamps everywhere.

Zoro found the bulb he needed and turned around to find you gone from his side. He had to put a tracker on you at this point.

Following his instinct, he took just a few steps down the lights wing and found you right away. His breath hitched. There you were, revelling in the warmth of the light of a crystal chandelier. Its main frame made out of goldenrod supported dozens of glass flowers cascading from each side to create a bigger rozette above. The other lights reflected into the glass, shining a warm gold tone all over you, romanticising your features.

You looked like you stepped out of heaven. A fallen angel. His fallen angel.

You were curiously tracing the details of a crystal flower when he stepped closer to you, musky vanilla invading your senses. Turning to him you ended up nose to nose once again tonight, foreheads almost touching in that confined space. He was so close yet so far again. What was he waiting for?

Kiss me, you wanted to scream.

Kiss my lips dry.

Kiss me like I'm yours Zoro.

You were ready to beg. To have him close the distance faster and end this yearning.

He leaned in, breath ghosting your lips almost painfully.

In your daze, too focused on him finally showing a response, you backed up into a lamp that nearly knocked out everything else behind you. You turned around just in time to catch it, steadying it back to its place, saving dozens of installations from being crushed to bits and pieces. When you turned back around, his eyes closed in denial, letting out an exasperated breath.

And he pulled away. Just like that. He initiated the moment and he ended it too.

Now what the fuck.

"Did you get the bulb?" you exhaled, still in shock that the moment was gone as quick as it came.

"I have," he inhaled, straightening his posture, cocky smirk flying back to his lips.

Like he didn't just have me begging for a fucking kiss in the Home Depot lights section.

"Do you need anything else?"

"Nope," he got a hold of your hand pulling it between you, thumb softly guarding yours. "I have everything I need right here."

You're such an anomaly, Roronoa Zoro.

All you could think about was his place. Which was unexplored land to you. Your visit there wasn't too early of a feat in your relationship considering how much he loved your place. You just pondered on what was waiting for you there.

An open invitation to become more? A private tour of his home? A one night only limited edition Zoro? The possibilities with this man were endless.

A small stinging sensation brought your attention to your leg. Your ankles. Not having worn heels in a while, you didn't think it would be this bad if you left them uncovered and just slid into the heels for the night. Until it was that bad and trying to walk in a way that didn't give your discomfort away was hard. Every step down the concrete sidewalk had your the shoe brush like a bristle comb against your ankle.

You stopped to lean your weight on a fence, lifting your leg to be met with the new blood crescents forming on the ridges of your heels. Ouch. Rubbing your ankles to soothe the ache proved to be only temporary relief. You tried putting it back in the shoe only to scrunch your nose at the new wave of pain.

You've been walking for quite a while already. Who knew how much longer you had until you reached his place?

Before you could even register what was happening, Zoro dropped to his knees in front of you with a grunt. You blinked, bewildered at his behaviour. His wide back stretched, laid out for you. You didn't notice until now that his shirt was slightly see-through, the glory of his lean, strong shoulders fully in your view. No view of the coastline could compare to the one you had in front of you. Kneeling at your feet of all things.

You just stared for a while still confused but digging it, until his voice echoed like a wake up call in your ears.

"Get on."

"I can walk."

He turned his head around, pining you with an are you serious right now look. He was trying to be a gentleman but your hugely independent persona wasn't having any of that. Well, that and you were still mad about the home depot thing.

The kiss that never happened. The pulling away after railing you up all night, with a desperate sigh on his part, as if he felt the same. If he felt the same he would've said or done something to cement it. To make you stop feeling like a damn fool.

"I know you can," he added, voice turning so mellifluous to sweeten the mood that your knees almost turned to jelly. "I just don't want those red demons to scar you more than they already have."

He was sweet-talking you again.

He turned back around and made grabby hands over his shoulder for you to hurry up. You bit your lip annoyed that he was right. The heels would only scar your ankles more.

"Fine," you sighed and got on, closing an arm around his neck as the other wrapped the bear's arms around your own.

Certain that you got comfortable, Zoro got a hold of the back of your thighs to lift you up. The spot he touched behind your thigh tickled and you tried your hardest to keep stable and not move around too much. You did kick forwards in instinct once, earning a disgruntled huff from your humble transport.

"Is there a place you aren't ticklish in?"

"I'm sorry, I just can't help it."

You took a strand of your hair and tickled his cheek on purpose as he tried to blow it away.

"I will drop both of you if you don't stop that," he warned.

You leaned closer to the side of his head, the rim of your lips brushing just the tip of his ear, voice playing sweet whispering in the same way he did to you all night.

"Stop what?"

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, jaw clenched, tensing under your hold before slowly reconfiguring his pace. You hit a chord. You grinned in victory that it affected him when your smile fell as you caught sight of the corner of his lip twisting upwards. He welcomed your teasing only to reply with a remark of his own.

"Are you testing me, angel?"

Angel. That was new. So new that your heart fluttered.

You kept your composure unsure of how to respond. This was one of those times his teasing got too deep inside of you and tickled a chord you didn't even know was there. So you just deflected from it, securing your hold on him better.

"Drop me and I will end your entire bloodline."

A deep rumble of a chuckle that he tried to keep inside but failed, boomed under you. The heaviness between you dissipated little by little, unserious, and you giggled along with him.

"You're precious cargo. But I just might," he teased again, readjusting his hold on you.

Yet, the truth was he wouldn't. In fact, he would do anything in his power for you to be comfortable. Even if that meant carrying you and a midsized bear all the way to his place sprawled on his back like a sack of potatoes, with your red feet killers swinging in his hand as your warm giggles filled the night.

Though it was a far reach, the possibility of nights like these becoming a regular thing made his heart soar. Maybe there was a chance for more.

Entering the lush part of the coastline, palm-hidden domains morphed into villas upon villas of the rich and the elite in all kinds of styles running along the lap of a hill. Halfway up the steep hill, your humble transport climbed a set of stairs and stopped in front of a villa.

Your mouth hung open. There's no way this was his.

Your eyebrows reached the heavens when he fished around his pocket for the keys and jingled them in the hole, pushing the door open. This was his.

Once inside, he bent down for you to get off, placing your heels down, putting his own shoes next to yours. You hopped off taking in the place. Each way your head turned you were instantly hit with his scent.

"You're telling me your house was this close to the club and we spent new year's sleeping on the beach?" you asked, twirling around the place.

Walking in further, you came to a dip in the ground going into a spacious living room. Two medium couches and an armchair in a deep forest green laid around facing each other. He does have a couch too many.

"Well, I didn't want to hit third base that early," he said, walking into the kitchen area. "You did take me for a psychopath just for taking you to the beach."

Taken aback at his words, you turned around trying to recall when that happened.

"Pffft, I did not."

Stopping his ascent on a small ladder to change the broken bulb, he placed his hands on his hips and looked back at you then proceeded to utter the exact words you said to him on your first night together.

"Is this the part where you kill me or something?"

He even had the tone right. You laughed remembering his first impression. Oh, how wrong you were. He turned out to be way more than that.

"Fair enough."

Fixing fluffy Lovey on a couch, you walked around some more. The huge space was used so well, beige and green motives spreading all around, combining in neutrals with the dark grey oak wooden floors. Beyond the modern aesthetic and messily discarded trinkets it was so cozy. Compared to your apartment, this place was an oasis.

"You have a really nice house."

"Thank you. It's not much really."

Not much? He's not being real.

He fiddled some more with the lightbulb, lean forearms working to click it into place. Extending his hand to you, he motioned you to the flip switch to test if it works. You obliged and turned it on. The bulb glowed, turning the beige kitchen golden, just like the chandelier you saw.

Moving into the cooking area you realised even his kitchen was something out of the paradise of architectural design.

You leaned your elbows on the marble top, head resting on top of your knuckles, waiting for him to finish. Once he was satisfied with his work, he stored the ladder away and came to sit next to you, mirroring your position. Feeling his prying eyes on you, you turned to find him a few inches away, hip brushing yours, looking at you with a smile.

"Hi," you said softly, smiling back at him.

"Hi," he replied, the crescents around his eyes deepening.

You could sit there looking at each other until time would end. If it wasn't for your stomachs singing in unison demanding some attention.

"I thought that instead of going to spend loads of money on a restaurant, we could cook something ourselves," he suggested.

"You went grocery shopping without me?"

"Yep," he popped the p at the end looking really proud of himself.

You had to give him credit for planning the whole day out ahead of time. It's the most anyone has ever done for you.

"So, what are we cooking?"

"Well," he threw a towel over his shoulder, "your wish is my command tonight."

You loved his determination. Zoro could cook. Just enough to save his life if need be but nothing too grandiose - if that included omelets and fried rice with some creativity to reinvent the dish for every day of the week. Thing that required talent.

So, you thought of one simple thing no one could screw up. Something that would be easy, fun and quick to make that would fill you both. You settled on the pinnacle of good food.

"Then pizza it is."

"Had a feeling you'd say that."

He walked to the fridge and pulled out some of your favorite toppings and a jar of the tomato sauce you swore by. You gasped, holding a hand over your heart in fake excitement.

"You know me so well."

"I try my best," he said, making a bow.

You got to making the dough, mixing the ingredients while he connected his phone to a speaker. Jazzy, romantic music played and you craned your neck at him to see that playful smirk. He wasn't acting like the Zoro you knew.

"Dean Martin? Seriously?"

"What's wrong with it? It's-"

"Romantic."

You never saw anyone cut the music so fast. It gave you whiplash.

"Then what about this?"

The track changed to ABBA's Dancing Queen. You threw your head back with a laugh, shaking it at his questioning music choices.

"Friday night and the lights are low ~," he sang off key, sending you into another fit of giggles. He continued singing as laughter rolled out of you to the point you were holding your stomach in pain.

Cruising around some more, he finally let a pop playlist run in the background as you worked on the dough and he got busy with chopping stuff up. You snuck a few glances at him and stilled - that golden light bounced on his tan complexion, making his focused posture appear so snug and cozy, almost husband material. The amused twinkle was back in his brown orbs, resembling irresistible pralines.

He looked like home.

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you turned back to the dough, sprinkling flour on the table top and rolling it out to spread it as wide as you could eat it. Too focused on it, you didn't notice a floured finger coming to paint your face until the white powder was already smeared across your cheeks.

"You're such a child," you let out before you painted his nose with flour too.

"I think that makes two of us."

He cupped the side of your face, brushing his thumb over the flour covered bits. Though that only smudged the flour more, your heart beat accelerated to an uneven rate. He was too close again. Too close to let go again.

"You made me beg for this date so much," he spoke lowly, brushing your cheek in circles. "I don't do begging."

"Can't blame a girl for wanting to torment the guy she's interested in."

Before he could reply, your stomach grumbled again, annoyed that there was still no food present in it. His hand fell from your cheek, though his touch still lingered. Warm, singed, stamped on your cheek.

You finished decorating the pizza with everything you both liked and once it was in the oven, you crouched down to see it cook. Zoro followed on your side, knee touching yours.

"You know, it's not gonna cook faster if you stare at it," he mused.

"I know," you turned to look at him. The gleam from the oven light coupled with the kitchen light above played tricks on you because you could've sworn that hard, playful gaze of his turned softer. "I'm just surprised you can cook something other than basic military canned food."

"Oh, shut up," he laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder into yours.

You made small talk until the oven dinged that your pizza was ready. Letting Zoro deal with it, you ventured more into his living room like a cat looking for her next napping spot.

You walked all the way to the glass windows acting like an outer wall. Finding a handle, you pulled on it expecting it to be just for décor only to see that the glass slid open to give you access to a private beach front. Your jaw would crack if this man shocked you more tonight.

He has a private beach. Who the hell just has a private beach? And he said it's not much. Dude, I can move here if you don't like it.

Pushing the door open all the way, you took a seat on an extended wooden ledge overlooking the stretch of water you started liking so much. The sky was still cloudy, covering up the moon, yet some stars still sparkled through the white glare. A few birds played around in the trees, chirping as brightly as they would in the early morning. Waves lapped calmly at the shore, smaller than the naked eye could see, crashing into each other before they could make a sound on the sand.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath of the salty air, letting it sink deep into your lungs. Calm enveloped you like a warm blanket comfortingly there for you. It was more than an oasis. It was how Zoro made you feel. Though most times it was accompanied by chaos, you would always find yourself waiting for this serene peace.

"I see you've found your favorite spot already."

Zoro was quickly at your side with the pizza sliced, a bottle of wine under his arm and some glasses. He sat down next to you working on the bottle before anything else.

"Favorite doesn't even begin to describe it."

Hungry from all the dancing and walking, you dove into the pizza first. The dough melted on your tongue, nodding to yourself as the good tomato sauce hit your taste buds, among with all the other toppings.

"Is it edible enough?"

"It turned out way better than I expected."

"Hand me one," he opened his mouth, waiting for you to feed him a slice.

You picked up a smaller one. Careful not to smudge any of the toppings on his shirt, you held it out for him to take a bite. He stopped fiddling with the cork to take in the taste.

"You're right, this is heavenly. I didn't know my oven could cook like this."

You choked, slapping his arm.

"That's what ovens are for, dummy."

Red wine, darker than your dress, danced in the glasses as you clinked them together. Taking a sip, the sweetness hit you before it lulled into bitter cherries, spilling on your lips like the promise of love on this chilly February night.

"Look out," he pointed out towards the sea.

You looked everywhere. All you could see was a few boats out on the water, the sky clearing some more and the sea. You even squinted, thinking you weren't looking properly.

"I don't see anything."

He checked his watch to see he was too early. For someone who was always late in making decisions, he still had time. Huh, how the tables have turned.

He counted the leftover seconds in his head, leaning back to look at you the way he did on new year's on the beach. Your back was in his full view, covered by your dress and your hair that grew a bit longer. He still has that impulse to trace your spine with the pads of his fingers.

"Look now."

Right as your eyes fixed on the boats, fireworks lit up the night sky from far out on the water. Pink and red spun around in different shaped hearts.

Seems like the surprises keep on coming.

Too engrossed in the light show decorating the sky in cute and heartwarming messages, you didn't notice Zoro slipped from beside you until you heard slow music playing from the speakers. He sat behind you, hand extended your way.

"Can I have this dance?"

"Another one?"

"You can't blame me for wanting another dance with you when you look this beautiful tonight."

"Only tonight?" you questioned, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"All the time," he corrected himself as he pulled you closer.

You stepped left and right under the warmth of the lights and the fireworks, holding the man you've always wanted in your life. Suddenly, you were taken back to that night where you let it all go to have fun with a stranger. A stranger that became something more so fast.

Who knew you'd end up mending each other's solitude and fill up the cracking pieces in your hearts. You were both aware that you meant more to each other than you let on, but the words just didn't seem to find their way out to communicate that. That was your only fatal flaw.

The need to know where you stand was more powerful than anything right now.

Somehow, everything was perfect.

Maybe too perfect.

"This is so fucking cheesy," you quipped.

"What's cheesy?"

"Everything. This night, the food, the wine, the fireworks... you."

You've kept the uneasiness at bay all night but something made it explode everywhere in your body and it definitely wasn't the wine. Or the way he was looking at you with those deep brown eyes like he could tell what you were feeling. If that were true he wouldn't waste any more time than you already did.

"What is this really about?" he asked, hands falling from your waist to rub comforting circles on the inside of your wrists.

If it wasn't crystal clear until now, he knew what made you tick. And something pushed a nerve by the looks of it and the way you were avoiding his eyes.

You wanted the ground to swallow you up for letting your mouth run wild without any basis besides that nervousness. But you might as well just bite the bullet and tell him everything and be honest with each other at least for once. You avoided talking about it way too long.

"It all feels a little too perfect to be real."

Thinking that voicing your thoughts out would give you some semblance of balance was a wrong assumption. As soon as those words left your mouth, he let go of your arms, taking a step back. Once again, you let your inhibitions take over and reel you away from a great thing.

You got lucky by meeting him. But you still couldn't help but think his heart wasn't yours for the taking. Because he wouldn't let you take it. That you couldn't be more than friends with him because more would destroy the already amazing thing you had going on.

By the way his face fell, brown orbs more preoccupied with the wooden floors, you realized you probably fucked up even more.

Frankly, he did all this tonight for you. He was never the type to go out of his way for people, even the ones he had an interest in because he wasn't one to play the feelings game. To chase and court and shower in affection.

But he knew where you were coming from and why.

He didn't make it clear that you've been the sole object of his attention ever since he saw you that first night you came to the club. For him, that was just another night lost to endless glasses of alcohol to numb himself even more from the world.

Until you showed up.

Hair thrown into the same messy bun you always sported, uncomfortably shifting in your clothes as you nursed a different array of alcohol yourself, trying to do exactly the same thing he was doing. Numbing the feelings away. Keeping them at bay. Fighting them with everything you had in opposite corners of the club when you could've embraced them together from that first look that connected you.

The more time he spent with you the more he let those suppressed feelings in and realised that they didn't bring him any pain this time, but solace, comfort, hope.

The hope that he might just have a great thing in front of him worth changing his ways for.

While Zoro was having a revelation, you were having a war with yourself.

There was this monstrous fire harbored inside of you for so long. Zoro woke that fire and there was no telling of the destruction it could cause this time, especially with so many unsaid things lingering in the air. So many unshared feelings. Because he stood still like the sea washing on the beach instead of doing something. Anything.

Please, Zoro, your eyes begged but he wouldn't look at you.

He was danger, screamed your mind. The danger that you got too comfortable. That this was wrong and you put up the 'no vacancy' sign on the doors to your heart way too soon.

Let me in, your heart screamed, blood in your veins trembling in anger.

One rapid thump of your heartbeat drowned in the silence.

Two more passed and he stood still, gaze set on the ground.

On the third one, you made your mind up.

Before tears could well up in your eyes, you turned around with the intention of bolting out through the same door he carried you through not that long ago.

Sensing movement, he caught sight of you shaking your head, that pout he hated back on your lips. He hurt you. Because he was a fucking idiot who couldn't do words.

But he could do actions. He was willing to do even more to prove to you that this was right and it wasn't all just in your head. That he felt it too.

It only took you taking two fast strides in the direction of the door for him to make up his mind too.

"Then let me make it real," he caught your hand and pulled you to him, crashing his lips onto yours for the first time since that night at the club, kissing you like his life depended on your very own lips moulding to his own.

You felt the desperation, the anguish, the need. All of it to have you close and to feel you in more ways than one. Everything you've been feeling for the past month, hope, passion, the beginning of love, spilling from his lips onto yours. He was telling you everything he kept to himself with each desperate tug at your lip and you received every word.

The last time he kissed you was over a month ago, pressured by the new year's kiss tradition. Back then, he tasted like alcohol and his cologne. But now, he tasted like everything you've been waiting for. And you had a hunch he waited just as long for it.

Once you were past the shock of it, you kissed him back even harder, lips finally moving in sync with his. He got a rough hold of your waist and pulled you even closer to deepen the kiss. One of his hands tangled in your curls exactly the way he wanted to since he saw you at your apartment.

He wanted to be selfish. Let that monstrosity of his heart pour out all of those feelings to you. But he reminded himself he had to take it slow with you. So he let go with a small tug at your lower lip, spurring the eagerness inside of your tummy for more.

You pulled apart but remained close, foreheads touching in bliss. Though short, this kiss was sweeter and more meaningful than any chocolate box you could ever get. It was everything you needed to know what his heart held inside and how much more of him you still had to see.

He let you in.

"I wanted to do this for so long," he breathed haggardly, like you stole away all the air in his lungs with just one kiss. A kiss that was so long overdue.

"Why didn't you?" you voiced the question that's been hanging by a thread all night.

"I didn't know how you felt about me."

"You're such an idiot. But you're my idiot."

Shaking your head against his, you pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt and kissed him again, this time with more fervour. You wanted to make sure he understood where your feelings stood, where you wanted this to go and that you let him be in total control of it. Because losing control with Zoro was surrendering to a higher power. One that your heart loved being handled by.

You carved your own feelings into the way you held onto his cheeks and nibbled on his lips in unsated hunger, trying to put the torment, want and devotion you felt for him over the past month and a half into a language that he could understand.

And he understood.

Tapping your thigh, you got the message and jumped up into his strong arms that wrapped around you like a curtain of safety.

Your safety net.

He ripped yours apart to become it.

He held you to him so easily as he navigated through the furniture maze in his living room, taking off into a long corridor, all the while his lips discovered new grounds with yours. He didn't want to waste any more time if it involved you.

Zoro didn't care if this would end up being a fucked up disaster on his part, but he held back enough from showing you how he really feels. It was time he made things right with you.

You.

It was only you.

There didn't need to be anyone else for him.

Just you.

His hold tightened around you as he rounded a corner, not for security but to brand the feel of your being in his hands, to realize that he was finally holding you, feeling you where you were supposed to be all along.

Heavens, how much he longed for this. Your presence wouldn't dare to leave his thoughts just like he never left yours. Oh, he knew of the ardor your eyes held inside and was well aware of what ran around in your head because he let those same movies play in his own around the clock, early day into late night. Maybe he didn't let it be known, not like you did in wistful glances or pink tinted cheeks, but there were signs.

In the way his jaw ticked in disgust at every man who set their eyes on you every time you went out shopping, to the point he was ready to have an MME match if they stared too long. Or how his hand twitched to grab yours whenever you sat too close, the need to lace them together and press you flat against the couch in your apartment overriding his senses. And his mouth. Oh, his mouth. It wanted nothing but to taste every inch of you, everywhere you touched him and riled him up, every time your eyes drifted down to his lips, until there was nothing left to taste.

Hell would freeze over before that happened.

Kicking the door to his room open, he shut it just as swiftly, maneuvering your back to the nearest wall, moonlight the only thing illuminating the room. The cold wall cooled your burning skin, a breathy gasp leaving your throat right into his mouth with a kiss. He let go of your back, hands searching for your palms, pushing them against the wall beside your head. His mouth never left yours, exploring every depth, rise and sigh escaping you.

He hooked you higher up the wall with every kiss, atoning for every missed opportunity over the past month. Your legs tangled harsher around his torso, tugging him even closer as he pressed against you with all his might, feeling all of him and none of him at the same time.

Close just wasn't enough for any of you.

You needed closer. Attached. Intimate.

Soul on soul.

Patience wasn't your virtue at all tonight. You clawed at his hands, needy unlike anyone has ever made you. Except Zoro. Your head was filled with him. You were breathing him in and it still wasn't enough.

In one breath you were unglued from the cold wall and put down on the comfy edge of his bed, separated from his lips and from him. You whined at the loss of feeling him against you, ready to argue that having him kiss you mattered more than whatever had him lose the tempo. Although that need turned into anticipation just as fast once your eyes focused on his kneeling form before you.

Roronoa Zoro, on his knees, for you, eyes darker than the blackness of the night. That vulnerability looked lethal.

Those eyes. You could drown in them for a lifetime if they asked you to.

"Zoro," you sighed, chest rising up and down, expectant of his next move.

Oh, how he loved the sound of his name rolling off your lips. Usually so contained in the form of a sarcastic remark or to warn him to watch it.

Now, it was tuned to demand for his attention. And he wanted to make sure you got all of it.

One of his hands extended to your leg, calloused fingers trailing up the arch, circling mindfully around your wounded heel to hold it up to his lips. He pressed them to the inside of your ankle, slow and steady, eyes fixed on yours as you took in a sharp breath. The intensity of his unwavering gaze alone made heat pool between your legs.

Flutters rose in crescendos inside your belly at each kiss and there was no stopping them from roaming free. Not when he was watching your every response like your body was the eighth wonder of the world.

Your hands fell beside you, feeling the softness of his duvet to ground you as you closed your eyes to relish in the moment. Focusing on how plush his mouth felt on your skin on two different extremities. Wondering how they would feel on the rest of your body.

Unspoken but present in the air, that wish was his command.

His fingers trailed higher, past your calf, under your knee, roughly tugging you closer to the edge. Your dress bunched up your thighs as his fingers continued their perusal to reach the small of your back. Slowing his pace, he traced the dip in your spine all the way between your shoulder blades, your back arching involuntarily. Still on his knees, he moved closer between your legs as those fingers circled on your nape, pulling you down to meet his mouth halfway in another kiss, more fiery than the last.

This one sputtered with flames of passion. So much that you couldn't contain yourself anymore.

Your hands shot out to undo the buttons of his shirt. Frustrated with the top ones you just dug your fingers in the holes and pulled it open, poor buttons flying to the floor with a pang, interrupting your fast breaths. He broke apart from your lips to assess the damage only to find his chest half-exposed to your itching hands.

"That was vintage."

"I'll get you another one but I want it off, now," you muttered in a breath, grabbing his face to devour him. You couldn't get enough of how he tasted and every breath for air asked for another taste.

Hooking one hand around your back, he lifted you up and hauled you to the middle of the bed. His lips connected with the side of your mouth, dragging the bottom lip you liked biting so much between his teeth. He was just as annoyed at your dress, desperately looking for ways to feel more of you as he fisted the ends until they creased.

"I want this off too," he groaned, pulling on the skirt impatiently.

Said and done.

You sat up, letting the straps fall off your shoulders, pulling the material over your head to leave you in your undergarments. He licked his lips taking you in. The ferocity of his stare alone drinking you in like his normal glass of whiskey made tremors dance on your skin.

And he didn't even properly touch you yet. You weren't even sure you would survive his touch. The good thing was, you were about to find out.

"What now, loverboy?"

The nickname came out way more playful than you intended it to. It was enough to provoke him in ways that will damage you for anyone else. Ways that will tie his existence to your very own, unable to ever untie it.

"I'm gonna have you like no one has ever dared to before and no one will," he spoke, so deep that your buds prickled against the air at the gravel in his voice. "By the time I'm done with you, you're gonna wish you didn't test my patience for so long."

That turned you on even more. At the need present in him matching the same level of want flowing in your body.

He kicked the rest of his clothes off. Your eyes stopped at the huge package that laid under his clothes, a Greek god in the flesh and balls. They then lingered from the sculpted thighs you were so envious of, to his defined middle where you lost count of his packs and chest, going up to the arched bow of his collar bones, stopping at the plump lips that rushed to capture your own again. This time, he bit your lower lip for access to explore the rest of your mouth, tongues tangling in a dance of their own on the same rapid rhythm your hearts were beating in.

A hand sneaked under your back to lift you higher, pressing your chest flush to his, feeling all the shapes of his muscles against your own. His lungs breathed with yours. Your hearts came alive.

His lips left your mouth, moving down your jaw, prodding under it, heading to your collar bones in hungry fire. They left a burning trail in their wake, stretching tingles even to the edge of your shoulders where he pressed softer ones.

Kiss, lick and bite was his mantra that he repeated against your skin. He wanted to claim you tonight, more viciously than a wolf in heat would claim his mate.

Trailing down, he laid small and large kisses on your sternum, between your mounds. His palms sat on either side of your waist, rubbing circles to tease you more. Damn his teasing.

Feeling his lips, his hands and his torso pressed to you all at once turned your breathing erratic, saprking electric shocks inside of you. He was everywhere, taking your control away. Your eyes darted closed to find some kind of anchor besides fisting his sheets.

"Eyes on me, angel," he commanded and in a second your eyes snapped back to his.

He stopped just above your navel, waiting for you to catch your breath. That was a luxury. Once he was sure you were following, he continued all the way down to your lower stomach where the band of your panties stuck to you uncomfortably. Your breath hitched when he stopped there, blowing above where you needed him most, only to move down to your inner thighs, nipping on the softer skin with that amused smirk of his gracing the outline of his mouth.

He was trying to push you over the edge on purpose.

Fuck that.

One swift push and he fell backwards on the bed. You climbed on top to take the reigns and gain some control back. Little did you know that having you straddling him like that bid the beast inside of him alive.

You moved butterfly kisses from the crook of his neck, down his toned pecs. His hand latched in your hair, grabbing a tight hold around your curls, destroying them like he wanted to do all night. The pressure on your scalp pulled a moan from you just as you bit into his abdomen heaving a groan from him, his other hand digging into your waist as he raised up to meet your neck. He bit and pulled on it too, turning your insides to mush.

Sitting up with you on your kness, he hooked a finger on each side of your panties and ripped them apart down the middle with that shit-eating grin. You choked on every remnant of sanity as he threw the shreds to the side leaving you naked, fully naked, exactly like he wanted you.

Grabbing onto his shoulders, you moved to his lap, legs parted to cage him into your space. One look of confirmation that this was still what you both wanted had you sink down on him at once.

He was big. Collosal almost. He felt bigger than you thought you could take. Eyes closed, it took you a moment to get your bearings back but once you did, you felt him everywhere. His upper thighs supported the rest of your weight. His hands circled around you, both grabbing and holding you upright. His cherry wine-infused breath fanned the side of your neck.

And his eyes? Waiting for you as you opened yours. One look at them and your hips started rolling on autopilot. Every swing buried him deeper, further, closer to where your being called for him. And he let you have it. Letting you ravish his gear the way you liked it, feeling him stretch you sore.

His mouth went back to his mantra. Kissing the crook of your neck, licking it right in the middle and biting it hard enough to leave a bruise. To mark you as his. His and his only.

You gripped his shoulders, shifting to get a better position as your hips started getting tired. Silently, you cursed yourself for ditching gym with him because you didn't know how much stamina riding him would take out of you.

You were close and from how he gripped your waist to help your rhythm, pulling them faster front and back, he was too. He stopped nibbling on your neck, moving to your lips to swallow your quiet moans. He had to make them louder.

You rolled your hips until you couldn't find the energy to push into him anymore. He took that as his chance to take over again.

He pulled out, turning you around as he spread you on all fours. Your hands landed on the bedpost to support you as he climbed behind you. He laid kisses from your lower back all the way to your left shoulder where his lips brushed your ear just as his tip lightly caressed your opening. His warm breaths foreshadowed sin on your skin, making you wetter by the second.

And he entered you. One, two, three pumps and he got accustomed to your tightness just as you did with his size stretching you out. He bit the side of your neck with every thrust, sending your conscious into oblivion, chasing that high together.

Every moan you withheld from him earned you a deeper thrust. He wanted to hear you in all your glory. Wanted to know how badly you wanted him, not just like this but in every way.

In your lost haze, you ended up on your back closer to release. Entering you roughly, he pounded in you so fast you were seeing stars, head rolling to the side in complete ecstasy. His hand grabbed your jaw, tilting your field of vision back to him.

His free hand grabbed your hand for the millionth time tonight, placing it on the messy sheet beside your head, fingers smoothly sliding through yours as he kissed away all of your sighs. Your other hand climbed from deep down his waist to his upper back, hard rock muscles rippling under your touch like a stone thrown on the surface of a still river, disturbing its peace, turning it turbulent and wild. Waking up every primal urge in him as he groaned in your neck.

He accelerated, twitching inside of you and you came, letting your insides explode into a mess as he continued chasing his own high. He wasn't done with you yet, thumb rushing to rub another climax out of you as he was close to his own. His mouth bit into your breasts, grazing your buds one at a time, pulling on them in a way that added to your pleasure way more than the last one.

You gripped him again, tighter, and in no time you both came furiously, spilling everything you held back out onto that mattress. He pulled out, letting his seed fly onto your stomach.

You tried to catch your breath. It was gone somewhere between ecstasy and what laid beyond euphoria. He left to clean himself up, returning with a token of aftercare for you. He wiped his mess off of you, gentle and attentive to get everything off. Once he was done, he got in next to you, pulling you close.

You both just sat there for a while, reflecting on everything that happened. You still felt him inside of you, on you, above you, behind you. He managed to ruin you.

His voice cleared the quiet, making you focus back on the real world for a bit.

"You okay?"

"I just got fucked to oblivion. I would say fantastic but I can't feel my legs."

He chuckled. He would never fail to love your sarcasm. Even in moments like these.

"Did I go too hard?" he asked, not sarcastically but wanting to know if it was too much. If he went harder than he should have.

Looking at the vines of love bites he left on the entirety of your neck, the smudged makeup that looked almost natural, and your tousled messy hair, hard couldn't encapsulate it better. You would've said "you could've gone harder" but that meant urging him on another round and you were spent for tonight. So, you laid your head in the crook of his neck and closed your eyes, releasing a content breath, a silent confirmation that you were okay.

A single thought passed through your head - this was all kinds of right. Your once in a lifetime right time right place, as cheesy as it sounded. Maybe cheesy was good.

He was in his head thinking everything through in his own way, breaking down the once intense feelings into little flurries of emotion buzzing inside of him. That passion masked itself as denial for way too long. But tonight, you held his face and took that mask off, giving him clarity and he was able to feel something else.

Something close to love, he thought, chuckling to himself.

You cracked one eye open, taken aback at his sudden cheerfulness. One look at his face bathed in the glow of the moon and you saw him beaming.

"What are you so smiley about?"

He just shook his head, smile widening like a Cheshire cat that's been caught up to no good.

"Nothing."

Taking it upon yourself, you got up from his side with slow moves and straddled his waist, getting his attention back on you.

"Tell meeeee," you stretched, poking your fingers through every dent in his abs until he told you.

"What are you gonna do for it?"

Not this again.

Actually, this time, you knew what he wanted. A kiss. So, you just leaned over and caught his lips sweetly, smiling into it. His hand came to cup your face, smiling back. He pulled away, soft praline orbs gazing at you warmly.

"What if I still don't want to tell you?"

"Zoro, stop playing with me," you complained, slapping his chest.

"Okay. Okay," he held his hands up in surrender.

He sat up to lean on the headboard and get a better look at you - his ruined shirt hugged your smaller form, running all the way to your thighs. The marks of his feelings that he still couldn't utter decorated you everywhere. You sat back on his lap, arms crossed on your chest, waiting for him to speak.

"I'm not one to do feelings," he started, eyes darting down in thinking. "But you changed that."

Your eyes stayed focused on him, softening at his words.

You knew that he was a reserved person, keeping to his corner rather than reaching out into other people's. Until he found something worth thrusting his hand out at full speed to get it. Something worth hanging onto with his teeth.

As he connected his eyes with yours, brown blazing fire burning as bright and consuming as yours, it dawned upon you that something was you.

He was trying. For you.

"You were right. I am an idiot," he paused, fiddling with the ends of his shirt beside your calf. "It took me so long to figure it out but now I know."

Your heart started running when his hand held yours and brought it to sit on top of his own, running just as fast in his chest. Though the rate of yours spiraled out of control at the honesty of his incoming confession.

"I think I'm in love with you."

Your head spun, blinking in confusion at him.

"Am I hallucinating or did you just say the L word?"

"Yes. I did just say the L word," he nodded, confirming that he felt the same for you.

Before you could breathe it through, you leaned in for another kiss. He deepened the kiss trying to reach every corner of you. Wanting to both take his time and rushing to taste every part of you.

Breathless. Serene. And everything in between.

"I take it you love me back?" he asked, needing you to say those words back to him.

Your heart did flips at the way the word sounded coming from him. It dripped with honey and warmth.

"A little more than love," you grinned. "You do realise that I won't be able to stop it, right?"

"I don't want you to."

"Great," you clapped your hands together. "Because I will become so annoying."

He howled a laugh, throwing his head back, the sound you loved so much making you laugh too.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

You leaned down connecting your lips for the millionth time tonight. But you still couldn't get used to them or to the fact that your heart called out his name and his answered back calling out just as loud.

Falling forward into his arms, you sank like a ship happily waiting to meet its end in the depths of the ocean that was him. Because no ocean was deeper and so familiar to swim through than your Zoro.

He kissed the crown of your head, pulling you closer. Happy felt like an impossible destination until he held you to him like this, safe and warm in his embrace. He felt a tinge of it and he wanted more.

"Are you tired-"

Before the question even left his mouth properly, his eyes drifted to the steady rise and fall of your chest, drained body curled into him tightly, head tucked into the crook of his neck, chest pressed to his.

She's drooling again, he chuckled to himself, moving some hair away from your face so you wouldn't inhale it. You sat like a baby coddled in its mother's arms, but your position looked a little uncomfortable.

He pulled your feet from under you to get you in a better posture. Moving his arms around you, he got more cozy, drawing the covers over the both of you and let the night come to an end.

Birds chirped announcing a new day, with the sea singing the same tune as its waves crashed in a swirl outside. The morning sun peaked through the curtains, its soft rays caressing the top of your head, willing you to wake up.

The first thing you felt was your cheek pressed against something plush. A pillow. The pillows I fell asleep on last night were way better.

You rolled around the bed trying to find some more sleep when the thought of last night sparked your brain like the tip of a vinyl record player, making memories play faster than your sleepy mind could catch up to.

Lips kissing on every part of your skin available to sight, carving themselves on the hidden ones. Hands caressing your body like a holy prayer, thought but never uttered. Eyes making secret promises with yours in the darkened moonlight.

You turned on your back and opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the light in the room. The fluffy duvet fell to your lap as you sat up, stretching your sore limbs with a groan. Everything ached but in a good way.

Pulling the covers away, you folded them neatly on the bed and took in the space in the light of day. The beige and green from downstairs broke off into a two-tone sandy beige and a cotton white on the floor and the walls. It truly felt like home. And smelt like it too. That musky vanilla you liked so much enveloping you, mostly from his shirt.

After a steamy shower that your skin welcomed fully, you stopped in front of the mirror to see just what he drew on you last night. You traced the red marks down your body, feeling the ghost of his lips like he was kissing and biting those places again and again. He didn't need any words after all.

Rummaging through his wardrobe, you stole a t-shirt, fitting like a dress on you, and a pair of pants that barely wanted to stay on your waist. You had to roll them up and double tie the strings for them to sit still.

Taking to the long corridor, you followed the sunlit path and looked for your partner in crime. You found him in the kitchen, handling an egg carton, preparing for what looked like the Zoro Special - omelete with a bunch of side dishes and orange juice - or Champions' Breakfast as he called it.

He had his back turned to you, busy chopping up some tomatoes. You sneaked behind him, trying to be quick and silent on your feet, planning to jump him. You rounded the marble top of the island, grinning that stealth was on your side, only to get caught between his arms. He already sensed you from when you entered the kitchen so your surprise attack was doomed from the start.

Unpredictable like a breeze of the wind, he picked you up, placing you on the island as strong arms planted on each side, caging you in his space. He took one look at you, recognizing his clothes draped loosely on you, messy bun on top of your head and his heart did flips again.

"Fancy seeing you here," you said, shying away from his gaze. It looked hungry and not for any damn food.

"I could say the same," he spoke, raspy voice sending tingles down your spine. He studied you some more, lips perking up in amusement. "Trying to sneak up on me?"

"Maybeeeee," you played with the hem of his shirt. "What are you making?"

"My special-"

His words got caught in his throat as you laid your chin on the crown of his chest and looked up at him with the softest eyes he's ever seen, all his resolve crumbling to the depths of the fucking universe.

It was truly a wonder to him - how you could go from one extreme to the other, being both adorable and sexy at the same time.

"Can I be your special?" you asked, voice sweeter than candy.

"I wouldn't mind that," he smirked, leaning down to capture your lips in a slow morning peck quicker than you would've liked it to be.

As if on cue, your stomach made a noise of complaint that the pizza you made together last night got digested.

"Let's get some food in you," he said, patting it tenderly.

"Do I get to assist on the special?"

"You get to watch the special," he rubbed his hands together and got started.

Pre-heating a pan on the hob, he held a knife in one hand and an egg in the other. Your eyebrow lifted up in curiosity as he held the knife horizontally to put the egg on top of it, balancing it side to side. With a confident grin your way, he flicked the handle and launched the egg in the air swiftly turning the knife sharp-edge upwards, just in time to catch the egg right in the middle, separating its contents from the cracked shell successfully. The egg sizzled in the pan while your mouth sat agape, shook at the skills he was pulling.

"You really are the gift that keeps on giving."

"So I've been told," he said cockily, flicking imaginary dust off his shoulder. You hopped off the island and elbowed him playfully, settling beside him to watch the magic omelet take shape.

Once enough eggs were cooked, he arranged the plates. He cleaned up his working space and leaned in for a kiss you dodged on purpose. That brought an ambush of kisses on your face, from your forehead to your cheeks, your eyes, your nose, your jaw and your lips. Everywhere he wanted to leave his affection on you.

You managed to shimmy out of his grip and bolted out in the living room, through the open glass door on the beach. The wind blew cold, waking you up like coffee, making your heart thunder. He followed right behind you just like the night you met, leaving your footprints in the sand. Though this time he caught up to you way quicker, whisking you up in the air and spinning you until your stomach hurt from laughing.

The sound of your laugh filled his ears in the most beautiful way possible. And something else clicked in his head. He wanted that to be the first thing he heard every morning, every day, until you got sick of him.

He placed your feet back on the sand and brought you closer, waves crashing next to you like the beat of his heart. He had to give it a shot no matter what. So, without letting any other thoughts cloud his decision, he just asked.

"Do you want to move in with me?"

OH, boy.

Thank you for reading :)

[isalisewrites]

A ramble on writing where April broke my heart

Hooo boi.

March was a dream in comparison to April.

Emergency gallbladder surgery? Someone faking their death in my server? Good times. I wanna go back.

I have been through much in three short months. April has shown that it's taken a toll. I have missed many more days of writing. I'm still missing them in May. But I'm slowly gripping onto the last vestiges of my raw determination, all while in the face of so much.

I had a falling out with my closest family member that shook me to the core of my heart. I barely slept for most of the month again. Gallbladder surgery has proven to have some complications on my nervous system, making normal daily life difficult where it's hard to sit or lie down without experiencing full body numbness and tingling in various areas, including my hands and fingers. (No, not blood clots. 100% without a doubt it's my nerves.)

If you've followed me here (post one and two) and have read my author's on Terrible, But Great Chapter 30, then you know what went down with my family member. It took so much of my time and energy. I wrote well over 8,000 words trying to reason with this family member, only for all of it to be scorned and mocked. A part of me feels like that energy was wasted. I could have 8,000 more words in TBG, but I don't. This is all I have.

A part of me looks at it and says, "Give it back. Give me back my writing." What happened to January? Or even February? What happened to the girl who could wake up at 4am in the morning, an hour before she had to leave for her hysteroscopy, to power write 700 words?

Some days, I go up the stairs and I'm winded like I ran a marathon.

Some days, if I walk on the treadmill for more than 6 to 10 minutes, I feel like I'm dying.

It's been an uphill battle. The struggle is real, but so am I.

In the last week of December of 2023, when I realized how long it would take me to finish Terrible, But Great, I was overcome with what I call 'The Stirring.' I don't know what else to call it, but it always has an air of mystery and premonition for what it is to come. I thought at that time, "If I had limited time to live, what do I want to do?"

"I want to write."

So, I did.

In 2023, I published a total of 43,000 words in TBG. In 2024, from January to April, I've written 110,604 words and have published 35,000 words thus far. The year isn't even halfway over and I've done better this year than I have last year.

In spite of it all, I'm doing pretty damn good.

There's still hope. I'm not giving up. It might feel like morale is low, but it's not. I'm going to keep going as much as I can through all the hardships because writing is truly the one thing that breathes life into me.

By the end of April, I finished my business class with an essay about how the class shifted my beliefs. This class in combination with all of my health issues and social conflicts sparked an overwhelming revelation and a new rising determination within my soul.

You see, you all have witnessed my love and passion for writing Terrible, But Great, a Harry Potter fanfiction, but I also have original stories that I've wanted to write. Yet, I haven't been able to finish them because I'm always thinking about the market in the real world, instead of what I want and what the story wants. Fanfiction, I can do whatever the hell I want and yall are just gonna have to strap in and hold onto dear life cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride. Original novels, however, are done differently and I've often struggled due to so many factors.

I have ADHD. I am autistic. I have health issues which are rapidly piling up on top of each other. My career choice might not even be feasible for me in the long run, so why I am allowing myself to be pressured into doing more than I can handle with a class load?

I want to write. I want to write. I want to create.

Oh, how I want to create.

So, I will.

Two years ago, I gave up on my dream of writing original novels and earning a living through them. I've since repented of that notion. As I continue write Terrible, But Great, I'm also going to be working on my original novels on the side. Someday, perhaps, I'll be able to earn a living as a published author.

That's my realistic ideal.

I wrote 457 words today, May 9th. That's good enough. The goal this month is to write more than April. I can do that. On the days where prose is hard, I simply write my scene idea in a zero draft style. I don't worry about the prose; I'll fix it later. Every word counts. Every word can be changed. Every word can be made better.

Every word is good enough.

Until next month.

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 12: Temporary

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 11

New Years Eve, December 1986

Steve looks around the room, seeing everyone watch the performances in Times Square and playing games. The adults talking amongst themselves in the dining room while all the older kids are talking on the couches. Even if they weren’t quite kids anymore.

It’s a few minutes until midnight, and Steve has never been happier. Seeing his house full of life, full of love. It always made his mood a little brighter. Even now, seeing Julie laughing with the kids that he thinks of as family, it makes him proud. Proud that he gets to call these people family.

Eddie saunters up to him, beer in hand. Getting close in the way that they can when no one else knows. “Wanna smoke?” he asks.

“Sure,” Steve smiles, knowing that’s not really what it means.

They head outside, the cold air instantly making Steve shiver. As soon as they get out of eyesight, Eddie pulls Steve close, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. Steve draping his arms around Eddie’s shoulders.

“Hi,” Eddie smiles. “Midnight’s pretty soon.”

“Yeah, that why you pulled me out here?”

Eddie scoffs. “Like I need an excuse just to do this,” he leans forward and kisses Steve. Steve melting into it every time. “That and Birdie beat me to calling the pantry. Her and Nancy are about to be ‘stuck’ in there for a few minutes.”

Steve laughs, pulling Eddie closer. “Think we’ll be able to hear the countdown out here?”

“With this group, probably. I know this is cheesy, and this year was shit for various reasons, but what was you’re favorite thing that happened this year?”

It doesn’t take much thought to have answers pop into Steve’s mind. “I actually have two. The first was Julie showing up on my doorstep and building my relationship with her. But the second,” Steve looks into Eddie’s eyes with a look that he’s feared for years. “The second is you.”

Steve has only ever been in love once before this. And that ended in a less than ideal way. Even if they weren’t meant for each other, or are now friends, it was still enough to make him scared. Make him fear for the day that he would open his heart up again for someone else. Hoping that they won’t reject him. Dates were fine, confessions of attraction were nothing. Love. Love was terrifying.

Terrifying enough that even when he’s standing in the most caring person’s arms, feeling more than he has in years, the words still get caught in his throat. Can’t be spoken, in the small case they’re rejected.

He’s always been fast to fall in love. Jumping in headfirst and figuring it all out later. Even in the darkest depths, he would always be the first to wade in.

Falling in love was easy. It was everything that came with it that made it so hard. And for Steve, there was a lot of baggage. With his parents, and his past, love was different. Love was complicated. Despite his best efforts, they always ended up intertwined. The feelings of loneliness and neglect mixing in where he doesn’t want them.

But as the kids yell out the countdown as the new year turns, Eddie’s lips find Steve’s again, everything sets into place. Every bad thing dissipating away for just a second. Because Eddie was different, at least Steve hoped. But that was for later, this was now.

“Mine is you too,” Eddie says when they break apart, his hands cupping Steve’s face. “You make me happier than you know.”

Maybe this was the one time where the waters weren’t as murky as they normally were. Where the water is crystal clear instead of green and grey. A place that is meant to be dived into, where the sun glimmers through to lead the way back to the top. And instead of pulling everything down to the bottom to drown, it all floats to the top and is able to breathe.

“Happy new year, Eddie,” Steve says quietly, letting this moment stay perfectly still.

. . .

Present Day, January 1987, Two Weeks Later

Steve is talking to someone on the phone. Which isn’t, like, a bad thing. Or a strange thing at all. Julie’s seen him talk on the phone a bunch of times, but not like this. Not with what can only be described as a dopey smile on his face and the way she’s never seen him like this before. And the laughter, giddy laughter. It’s unreal. Unusual.

Happy. Steve looks happy. Not to say that he wasn’t happy before, but not like this. But this time when he smiles, it actually reaches his eyes. Brightens them actually. Something that’s straight out of a shitty romcom. But real.

He has to be seeing somebody, Julie concludes. Has thought for a while now. She’s heard someone come into the house late at night, and Steve always seem to be a little bit happier on his days off. Like there’s been someone here when she isn’t. Or isn’t awake. That she’s being kept away from them.

Maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe Steve just wants to keep his relationship to himself for now. Do all of the introduction later. But she can’t help but want to know. Know why he’s keeping a secret, and if it’s because of her.

It’s stupid, she knows, but the voice keeps finding it’s way into her mind. Telling her repeatedly that Steve isn’t telling her because she won’t be here forever. That this is all still temporary, and he hasn’t done anything to change that. Then, neither has she. It’s hard to admit to someone that you want to stay. Especially when the other person has a whole life that Julie doesn’t know about.

She knows that Steve likes her, wants her to be here. But for how long, that is the question.

As Steve waves goodbye as he drops her off at school, she can’t help but feel like she’s asking too much. If she were to ask to stay permanently. He’s already given her so much, she can’t ask to take his life. She might not always feel like it, but she’s still a kid. A tie that holds people back, held her mom back.

She never showed it, but Julie knew. Deep down, she knew. Her mom would cancel dates when Julie got sick, or lost a job because she called out too many times. Stopped herself from going back to school and getting the degree she wanted. Doomed herself to waitress and secretary jobs, even if it made her miserable.

All for Julie. Always for Julie. Never for herself.

Julie didn’t want to tie Steve to the same fate. He was still young, only a few years older than her. He had the chance to be who he wanted to be, even if it meant leaving her. She didn’t want that. But if it made him happy. Well, why would she stop him. After everything he’s been through in life, he deserved to be happy.

“Dude, you need to let it go,” Lucas says to Dustin at the lunch table. The rest of the group has been eating with them more often. It’s been interesting, to say the least. Definitely louder.

Dustin rolls his eyes, saying a small hello when Julie sits down. “No, I don’t. He’s hiding something from me, and I know it.”

“Maybe you could respect another person’s boundary for once,” Max snaps, taking a bite of her food.

“I respect people’s boundaries,” Dustin gasps. Met with immediate disagreements from the rest of the table.

“What are we talking about?” Julie asks, taking a bite of her sandwich.

Mike rolls his eyes. “Steve, for no reason.”

“Dude that’s her brother.”

“My point still stands.”

“What about Steve?” Julie asks, not really wanting to.

Dustin turns toward her, already ready for a rant. “He’s hiding something. Like a someone,” he says with a face like Julie knows what he’s talking about.

Which she does, but it’s still annoying. “I thought we agreed you’d drop it until I knew something. He still hasn’t told me about it.”

Max interrupts, “you know about this?”

“Unfortunately,” Julie says the same time Dustin confidently says “Yes, she does.”

“And we agreed to let it go until Steve decides to share it with us. And by we, I mean him.” Julie points at Dustin.

Dustin huffs. “Well, that was before. This is now. Things have escalated.”

“Nothing has escalated,” Will says when Mike rolls his eyes again. “You’re just being dramatic.”

“Too dramatic,” Mike adds.

“And pushy,” Lucas says.

“It is his life,” El says. “It is up to him to share it with us. No matter how close we all are. We should not push it.” She shares a glance with her brother, silently communicating.

Max nods in agreement. “El’s right, nerd. Leave it alone. You know what happens when you push.”

“Things blow up.”

“Go to shit.”

“End pretty terribly.”

“Fine,” Dustin exclaims, crossing his arms.

. . .

Eddie lets himself into the house, immediately finding Steve in the kitchen. Days off are the only time they’re able to be together. Alone together. Not have to hide, to pretend. Just be themselves with each other, with no one else around.

It’s like a relief when they get to be together like this. Unashamed in his house, free. Like a weight lifts off his shoulders and he can just be. And not have to worry about the wrong person finding out, or someone finding out before it’s too soon. Just them, where Steve is happy and nothing else matters.

Steve presses into Eddie’s touch, pulling him in closer and melting into the touch of their lips. Tracing his hands at the hem of Eddie’s shirt, desperate to feel the skin of skin contact again. As if every time is the first time. Always having the same effect over and over again.

Because this still doesn’t feel real to Steve. It still doesn’t feel real that this can even happen for him. That he can be this happy in a house that caused him so much pain. This happy at all.

He still has times where he thinks that he doesn’t deserve this. That this is all just a phase, and it will pass. It has before, time after time. People tend to leave Steve, and he doesn’t want Eddie to leave. Never wants Eddie to leave. But after the person he’s been in the past, and the mess that he’s been in the present, he’s not so sure that it’s all set in stone. That the promises were written in sand near the shore, and as soon as the tide comes in, it will all go away.

The house will return to the lifeless whole it once was. Swallowing all that was good of Steve and leaving him empty. The life will be stripped away, the light will disappear. Everything that was good will become rotten and fall away. And Steve will sit on the stairs and wait for the door to open again.

He has to remind himself that these people are different. People who stay around Steve because they actually like him, and not just his money or his name. They won’t just leave him when he makes the wrong step. Won’t just abandon him. They aren’t his parents.

And when Eddie holds him like he won’t have the chance to do the same tomorrow, it only proves to him that this is real. That this isn’t going away, and Eddie won’t leave him without saying another word. How can a person hold someone like this if they want to leave? Steve doesn’t think that they can.

“Hey,” Eddie says when he pulls back. “I, uh, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Ok,” Steve says, for the first time not freaking out on the inside. “What about?”

Eddie steps back a little, letting there be a small gap between them. “About us, actually.”

His face is full of nervousness, one that Steve can’t quite read. Like a reflex, the anxiety starts to grow again. Like he’s back in that bathroom at the Halloween party and his heart’s about to break again. But it’s Eddie, Eddie wouldn’t hurt Steve. Not without a reason to. Has Steve given him a reason to?

“Oh,” Steve says shocked, trying his best not to freak out. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Eddie assures. “No, no. It’s nothing bad, I promise. I just, it’s just something that I thought we should start thinking about.”

A small breath of relief escapes Steve’s lungs, but the anxieties don’t leave fully quite yet.

“I thought that we should start talking about when to tell the others, about us. When you’re ready to, of course. But we can’t keep this hidden forever, and Dustin’s been giving me some really weird looks lately. And just got me thinking, that’s all.”

“You know I’m not ready to tell them, about me at least, yet. I can’t risk it right now.”

Eddie’s face twists. “What do you mean, can’t risk it? They wouldn’t just go around town telling people about us.”

Steve knows it’s true, knows that they wouldn’t intentionally say anything. But that’s what gets him every time his thinks about it. Intentionally. These kids are just kids, and sometimes they can’t stop themselves from talking. Not until the harm is done. He can’t risk harm being done. Not with how much he now has to lose.

It was different when he didn’t have Julie, didn’t have this impending lawsuit hanging over his head. Steve could risk a lot when it was just him that he had to worry about. When risking himself meant just that, risking himself. Now, if this got out, there’s no question that he would lose custody of Julie. She’d be taken from him and placed in another home that wouldn’t care for her. And there’s the possibility that she could never look him in the eye again. He couldn’t risk that.

With the lawsuit, he needs to be on his best behavior. He needs to show the courts that there was everything wrong with his parents and nothing wrong with him. He can’t give them any ammo to make the judge see him differently. Being in a relationship with a man, even if it’s a loving one, that would make or break his case. It might justify his parents’ actions, make him lose. Make him a fool. Ostracize him. Run him out of town.

“But if by some accident that they did, just by accident. I have so much I can lose now, Eds.”

It never bothered him before, not like this. The worry surrounding his brain and shutting out the logic. Making his thoughts race to every way things can go wrong. Seeing the face Julie would make when he betrayed her like this. Promised her everything just to rip it away again. Sees the headlines in the paper the day after court, how it would affect him in a way that is unimaginable. And yet he can picture it all so clearly.

“They’ve known about me for months Steve, they haven’t said anything. It’ll be ok.”

But him is different. With Eddie, his reputation already isn’t that great. Steve is known, for the most part, as the golden child of the rich family in town. Even if he is a dead beat that didn’t go to college and works as a manager at the local video store. The fact of the matter is that people would talk, rich snobby people with power that could do so much harm. This small-town gossip could follow him outside, keep trapping him back in this house.

“I have a reputation, Eddie. One that I don’t really care about, sure, but I can’t afford to ruin it-.”

“So, this is about reputation?” Eddie steps away from him, fully breaking their contact. Steve can sense Eddie pulling away, rebuilding his walls. The hurt finding it’s way to his eyes. “It’s always reputation with you people.”

Steve feels his heart start to crack. But he can fix this, he just has to explain himself.

“You know it’s not like that. When it was just me, I’d ruin everything if it meant being with you. But I can’t risk this getting out, not when Julie depends on me.”

“And I get that. But that is so far from what I’m asking.” His voice is thick with hurt. Hurt that Steve caused. “I just want to tell people that I’m with you. Is that so bad?”

“It is if it means that I lose her. This is more complicated than just you and me.” Steve can feel himself getting heated. Feel the anger start to bubble underneath his skin. The anxieties of his mind only addling kindling to the flame.

Eddie crosses his arms, his jaw clenching. “So, you’d rather hide forever instead of tell the people we love and trust that we’re in a relationship.”

“Don’t say it like that and make me feel bad about this. You know that I want to tell people eventually.”

“That just it,” Eddie raises his voice. “That stupid word eventually. Everyone loves to use that as if it’s a promise when really, it’s just a lie. When is eventually, Steve? Is it when you feel comfortable to come out? Or is it when you get full custody of Julie? Is it after you go to court with you’re parents? Is it when Julie turns eighteen and you can’t lose her anymore? Is it twenty years down the line when your precious reputation might not be tarnished anymore?”

Each word Eddie spits adds another brick to Steve’s defenses, protecting himself for what he knows is about to happen. “That is so far from what I am saying.”

“Are you ashamed of me? Be honest. I’d rather be hurt now then before this gets serious.”

“Is,” a lump starts to form in Steve’s throat. Awaiting the one word that could make him break. “Is this not serious for you?”

Eddie’s face falls. “Shit, no. Yes. I mean. Yes, this is serious. Serious that I want to tell people. But if. I’ve been hidden before, Steve, I don’t want to be hidden again.”

“So, you’d rather break up with me than wait for me to be ready?”

“No, that’s not. I just want to be able to stay the night without having to sneak in. I want to hold your hand when we’re hanging out with our friends. I want to be with you on days other than when no one else is in the house.”

Tears start to well in Steve’s eyes. His mind races to find an answer, to find something to say. All the words he can even think of get stuck in his throat. And those aren’t the right thing to say. He doesn’t have the right thing to say.

Steve can’t give Eddie what he’s asking for. Not now. Not in the immediate future.

Eddie is hurt, and for reasons that are valid. Steve is hiding him. Partially because he isn’t ready to tell the kids, and partially because this relationship can’t get out. Even when it can, he is still going to be hiding Eddie from everyone other than their friends. They will never be able to be a real couple, at least the kinds Steve has had in the past.

He knew that. Knew that their dates could never be too romantic so they wouldn’t get caught. Knew that any form of public affection couldn’t happen. Not in this town. They weren’t safe if people knew the truth. Steve already had enough things to worry about, maybe he didn’t need this to worry about too.

“Forget it,” Eddie interrupts Steve’s train of thoughts. “I shouldn’t have said anything. We’ll just, we’ll talk later. I’m gonna go.” He picks up his keys from the counter and walks down the hallway.

Just as he turns to leave, Steve knows that this is something worth fighting for. Them, their relationship. It was something that was real, and worth it. Maybe he can’t risk it now, but that doesn’t mean he can’t in the future. And he wants to tell the kids, he’s just not ready yet.

Eddie should understand that. Wouldn’t he?

“No, Eddie, wait. Let’s just talk about this, I-.” Steve tries to catch Eddie’s arm, but it gets pulled away.

“Steve, let me go. I just need to think, ok.” Eddie shuts the door behind him before Steve can say another word.

Steve leans his head on the door, a tear streaking down his cheek. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. It’s not supposed to end like this. Steve can’t go through this right now. Not before he’s able to tell Eddie how he feels. Tell the group about them. It’s supposed to work out this time.

But he left Steve. Alone in the house, again. Just like everyone did. And how everyone might do again. He’s never good enough for anyone to stay. Why would this time be different?

It’s an hour before he moves. An hour until he makes it to the hall phone and calls Robin, explains what happens. Twenty more minutes until she lets herself through the door and finds him crumpled on the floor. Five minutes until she’s ready to dig Eddie’s grave. Fifteen minutes until she’s helping Steve put himself back together again. With a constant reminder that she’s not leaving. Not ever. Telling him that the others won’t either. That this was just a fight. It wasn’t the end.

He can’t stop feeling like it is though.

. . .

Steve is silent as he drives Julie and Dustin home. Robin in the front seat, making conversation enough so that they don’t notice. But constantly looking over at Steve to check in on him. Make sure that he’s ok.

Julie notices. Hard not to when she’s had that same look on her face before. He’s putting on a good show, nodding along as Dusitn rants, looking engaged. But his eyes are blank, as if his mind is somewhere else completely.

She wonders if something happened with his parents again. If they called and reprimanded them through the phone. Or if something else happened. Maybe with the mystery person he’s been seeing. Even if she’s half-convinced that mystery person isn’t so mystery. But that isn’t her conclusion to make.

And it isn’t Dustin’s to make either, even if he keeps insisting that it’s right. Even if he is making eyes at Julie and nodding his head toward Steve. Trying to get her to ask the burning question. She’s not going to ask it. Not now. Now when she can see the blank look on his face. But Dustin can’t.

“So, meet anyone new recently Steve?” Dustin asks, not being subtle at all. Julie rolls her eyes, tempted to grab a notebook out of her bag and smack him over the head with it.

Robin groans and Steve leans his head further against the headboard. Julie glares at Dustin, trying to get him to drop it.

“What, it’s an innocent question,” he defends. Julie’s head falls into her hands.

“For the love of God, Dustin. Learn how to read the room, or car or, fuck this. I’m a lesbian, Dustin, we’re not dating. For the millionth fucking time,” Robin exclaims from the front seat.

Steve eyes widen as he turns to her, the first expression Julie’s seen him make the whole ride. Robin’s face slowly matches his, realizing what she just did. The car is excruciatingly silent, probably just for a few seconds, but it doesn’t feel like it.

“I-. That’s not,” Dusting starts, trying to figure out what he’s going to say. “Thank you for sharing that, I’m happy you told me. Even if it wasn’t what I was asking, like at all. But that actually makes a lot of sense, in hindsight.”

Robin clears her throat. “So, you don’t have a problem with it?”

“No, why would I have a problem with it? I don’t care who you date. Well, I do because you're my friend. But like, not who that person is, not really. “

“I don’t either,” Julie finds herself saying. “Care for you who date. As long as they treat you right and you’re happy. Not really much else to care about.”

Steve smiles softly, looking over at Robin who shares the same expression. He gives her a small thumbs up, staying silent otherwise.

“Well, thank you,” she says.

The rest of the car ride is silent, the mood shifted away from the tense moment. Dustin gets out of the car when they pull in front of his house. Giving up his investigation for today.

“I’m sorry about him,” Julie says when they pull away. “I tried to tell him to drop it.”

Robin snorts. “Yeah well, that never works as well as you think it will.”

“I can tell.”

When they get back home, Steve parks the car and unlocks the door. Heading upstairs to his room without another word.

“Is he ok?” Julie asks Robin.

Robin gives her a comforting smile. “He will be. Just a bad day.”

Julie nods as Robin heads upstairs to Steve’s room. Shutting the door gently behind her. Julie goes to the kitchen to do her homework. Her mind not really focusing on anything.

It keeps coming back to the car ride. Steve. Robin’s confession. How it really wasn’t that much of a surprise, not to her at least. She had a feeing that Robin was different than others. The same feeling she’s sort of been having about herself. But was always too afraid to say anything about it. Scared of what it meant. What would happen if people found out.

Maybe that’s why she was so defensive when Dustin brought it up at the Christmas Eve party. How his answer made her feel relief, not just for Steve, but for herself. That there might be a small hope that someone out there would accept her, if what she was feeling is true.

Then when Robin confessed in the car, it only made her more relieved. Steve accepted her, he knew. It’s not surprising that he did, they were pretty inseparable. But it was still nice to know that he would accept Julie too.

Because even though she’s still trying to figure it all out, it’s looking to be more and more like a fact. And it’s terrifying.

. . .

Steve walks into his house to find Eddie sitting in his living room. Normally he wouldn’t care. Normally it wouldn’t matter. But they haven’t talked in days, and it’s killing him. He’s mad. Angry. Sad. Guilty. He doesn’t know. He’s something, and he’s not sure if he’s ready to talk to Eddie just yet.

It’s not even that they just had a fight. Or maybe it is. Maybe it’s because of what their fight was. It was stupid, Steve was being stupid. At communicating at least. He still isn’t ready to tell the kids, even if he knows that two of them would accept it. But what he said is still true. This getting out would make everything worse right now. He can’t risk it.

Maybe that means they have to break up. Maybe that means they have to slow everything down and take a break from them. Eddie doesn’t deserve to feel hidden. It’s Steve’s fault that he is. This just wasn’t the right time for him. Steve has to accept that.

That’s why he isn’t ready for this. The farther he pushed away this conversation, the longer he can say that he and Eddie are together. The longer he’ll still be in the best relationship of his life. The one that he actually saw going for a long time. Forever, even. It’s stupid really, how hopeful he was. He knows he dives in to fast without checking for monsters in the water. But this time he thought it was safe waters. But he guesses it wasn’t.

“Hey,” Eddie says when Steve walks through the door. Standing from the couch. “You’re dressed fancy.”

Fancy was a nice button down with slacks. “Yeah, I had that meeting with the lawyer today. Remember,” he crossly says.

Eddie looks down ashamed. “Yeah, I did. I showed up and you were already gone. I thought you wanted me to go with you.”

“That’s before you left.”

It’s the part that hurt the worst. Out of all of this. Eddie left. Just like his parents. Instead of staying to fix this, to work it out, he left Steve stranded at his front door. Unable to move. Unable to feel. Just frozen. Waiting for the door to open again and for the person who left return. For the person he loved to come back.

Eddie wasn’t his parents. But it didn’t matter. Not to his mind. In that moment, his returned to the kid that was left at every important moment in his life. And even the unimportant. Back to the kid that was a disappointment for just existing. Not meeting expectations. By not being perfect. He wasn’t the perfect partner for Eddie, so he left.

“I went with Robin instead, so I wasn’t alone,” he says with more venom in his voice than he intended. But it was justified.

Eddie looks hurt, Steve wanted him to. But it still hurt to see. “You’re mad. You have every right to be.”

“Yeah, I do. You left Eddie. You left me.” Steve feels tears start to gloss over his eyes. “After everything you knew, you still left.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. I should have just walked around your backyard or something. Sat in another room. Not left.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

It’s silent between them. Neither of them really knowing what to say. Steve wants to accept his apology, but it still feels like every apology he’s ever gotten. Cheap and hollow, never enough substance to it to make it true.

Eddie runs a hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I was. Triggered, I guess, by some of the things you said. Sounded like every other guy I’ve been with. But you’re not like them, I shouldn’t have treated you like you were.”

“There’s so much more at stake here than my reputation. I can’t let this get out, even if I was ready to tell people. And if you can’t deal with that, can you at least just tell me now.” Steve can hear his voice breaking. He wants to stop it but can’t. “Why did you even show up today? You clearly didn’t want to talk to me.”

“But that didn’t mean I wasn’t still going to be there for you. And I can deal with it. I just couldn’t in that moment, but it passed, and I realized how much of an idiot I was being. Just because we had a fight doesn’t mean that I was going to forget the promises I made you.”

Steve swallows the lump in his throat. “Why?”

“Because I love you,” Eddie confesses with one breath. “I love you and I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. It scares the hell out of me. I’ve never been in love before, not like this and I. I didn’t want to lose you, so I did what I do best and ran. Away from the argument and from you.”

Eddie walks up to Steve, and Steve lets him touch him. Let’s him cup his face with his hand and run his thumb across Steve’s cheek. It’s easy for Steve to fall into the touch, having missed it for days. “I promise to never run from you again.”

“Why you’d not talk to me for days?”

“Cause I thought you didn’t want to see me. Like you said, I left. I couldn’t face the fact that I hurt you like that.”

Steve closes his eyes. “Yeah, you did. But you also came back. And I didn’t blame you, not for what you said. It was true. I was, am hiding you.”

“And I’m ok with that. For now, until the dust settles, and until you’re ready. I’m sorry for making you feel like I wasn’t. This is too special to me to break this easily.”

The tears finally escape from Steve’s eyes, rolling down his cheeks. Eddie wipes them away, a few tears of his own finding their way down his cheeks. Eddie pulls Steve in for a hug, and it feels like home. Only making Steve break more.

“Thank you for coming back,” Steve whispers into Eddie’s hair when he calms down. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like you couldn’t.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. Nothing, you hear me. This was my mistake. I know that.”

Steve pulls away. “No, but it was also mine. I, I know that people have hurt you in the past and it was because they made you feel like nothing. I don’t want to make you feel like nothing.”

“And you don’t. I promise that you don’t. Sneaking in at night sucks, but then I get into bed with you, and it makes everything worth it. This, us, is so important to me.”

“Maybe you don’t have to sneak in every night. Maybe some nights you can just ‘stay over’ in the guest room and then sneak one door over. Instead of coming over at midnight.”

Eddie smiles. “That would work for me. But seriously, we don’t say a thing until you’re ready. That’s a promise I swear I won’t break.”

“I love you too,” Steve blurts out. “I didn’t say it before. But it’s true. I’ve been just as scared about it as you have.”

Eddie kisses him softly. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

. . .

When Julie parks her bike, Eddie’s leaving the driveway. Waving to her on the way out. She waves back, heading inside.

Steve is back to himself again. Wandering around the kitchen in sweats, singing softly to the classic rock station on the radio. He smiles at her when she enters, offers to make her a snack. She refuses, not that hungry.

It’s strange how this place felt so foreign to her a few weeks ago. How the walls felt claustrophobic and everything around her was just crushing. But it’s better now, she’s better now. Still sad, but better. And this place felt like home. Her home. She didn’t want it to go away like the last one.

“Could I talk to you about something?” Julie forces herself to ask before she loses the nerve. Before she just runs to her room and locks herself on a blanket of insecurities again.

“Sure,” Steve says. “What’s up?”

Julie picks at her thumb. “I just. Me living here is still temporary, right?”

Steve’s face drops a bit as he leans on the island. “From a paperwork standpoint, yeah. Why do you ask?”

It’s so stupid that this affects her. That her thinking that Steve not sharing his relationship with her means that he doesn’t want her here. But it’s a part of his life. She wanted to be here for the good and the bad. And it felt like the good was being kept from her. As if she had a right to know it. But it still hurt a little.

“I just. This is so dumb. But you’re terrible at hiding things and I’ve heard someone come in the house pretty much every night for the past month at midnight on the dot. And I can’t help but feel like you’re hiding it from me. Like them meeting me is too much. Like you don’t want me here.”

It sounds more stupid when she says it out loud. But it’s true.

“I do want you here,” Steve says softly. “I really do. You living with me isn’t temporary to me, it’s just a long process to make it that way. And we haven’t really talked about what the steps would be past just me getting guardianship. But if you want to, we can start talking about getting permanent custody.”

A weight lifts itself from Julie’s shoulders. “Yes, yeah. I’d like that. I’d like to stay here, with you.”

Steve smiles. “Good. Me too. As for the other thing. I am seeing someone, but it’s,” he takes a breath. “It’s a bit more complicated than just telling you. I’m not really ready to tell anyone about it yet, it’s not just you. But if them coming over without you knowing is making you uncomfortable, it can stop.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I really don’t care. I just. When you are ready, you can tell me who it is. I won’t judge you or anything.”

“I know you won’t. Is that what Dustin was on in the car the other day? He knows too?”

Julie groans. “Yes. I swear I told him to drop it, but he is convinced that something’s up. I can’t get him to stop talking about it.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, well, that’s Dustin for you.”

“I’ve learned.”

Steve walks around the island, giving Julie a hug. “How about we talk to Sarah about making this permanent at the next inspection. We can start on the whole process.”

“That sounds good.”

“Hey,” Steve crouches down a bit to get on her level. “You’re my sister, and I love you. That’s not a temporary thing, ok.”

Julie smiles. “Ok.”

She pulls out her homework from her bag and gets started, already wanting to pull her hair out with her math homework. Steve gets started on dinner, distracting her with some work stories from the previous day. It all is making her feel at home. Real home.

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman, @lilpomelito @melonmochi

[encyclopediacr]

Survey summary: Page Recommendations

As our final summary of the survey results, here are some recommendations for new pages we wanted to talk through. Once again, you will notice that the theme is "we are a small group, and Critical Role's programming and scope has vastly expanded in the past year or so." If you are passionate about something, please do not hesitate to jump in and start editing.

Character stat pages: we just started these! Starting with Bells Hells' level up to 12, the first level-up after CR Stats stopped updating, we started subpages to track the changes with each level-up (see Fearne's as an example), though level 13 updates are still in progress. These are also in use for the Rivals from Call of the Netherdeep (see Ayo's here). We will be doing this for further Bells Hells updates and hypothetical future campaigns. The main thing keeping us from going back and making level updates for Campaigns 1 and 2 or earlier Bells Hells levels is the time commitment, especially since this information is already available on CR Stats. Should you wish to help fill this in, we would love to have you. We do have a page for Sending specifically, but not for all spells. CritRoleStats will have this information through January 2024, and the Omen Archive has it for Campaign 3. We cannot commit to the same level of statistical detail as CRStats did without dedicated editors focusing on that. If this information is important to you, consider reaching out to the Omen Archive or volunteering to update it!

Links to Talks transcripts: Unfortunately, these are auto-generated for the most part, so we decided against hosting them as they are extremely inaccurate. If someone is interested in cleaning those transcripts up, please feel free to contact us, as we'd be happy to host them.

Details on Candela Obscura, EXU & TLOVM: this all seems to be asking for series-level information. We'd love to know more about what you specifically would like to see, as we do cover these in depth!

Miscellaneous: Music playlists, Larkin Watch, Air Ashari, the Clay/Dust/Stone story - these are all added to our list of things to make. Larkin Watch will likely be a glossary entry (Larkin does redirect to Raishan!) but the others are all great ideas!

One-shots and their characters: this is a known gap. Thank you to all who participated in our push to fill in some of these this past winter break. With the exception of the Nord VPN one-shot, which aired while most regular editors were ill or unavailable; and Daggerheart, for which we have a summary but have not yet had the time to fill in all character information, we have kept up with new one shots since making the wiki fork. Older one-shots were often deprioritized on Fandom and while we have made a number of updates, it is a large backlog. Again, the main issue is time as we prioritize keeping up with current material, but we would love to revisit these one shots. If you're interested, please do not hesitate to jump in - even a single one-shot episode summary is a huge help.

Thumbnails: you can find them on their category page! For example: https://criticalrole.miraheze.org/wiki/Category:Campaign_3_episode_thumbnails

Nine Eyes of Lucien: This is also a known gap, and again comes down to the fact that no one who has read the book has had the time, as most are the core group of editors keeping current information up to date and it's been pretty nonstop since early 2023. We would love to have a volunteer to work on this, or alternately, people who could take over other significant ongoing updates for a few weeks so someone who normally works on that could focus on the Lucien novel. Perhaps this will be our next winter break project.

[tetsunabouquet]

hi :) ok, just watching shaman king 2021 in 2024 recently so the fandom seems gone LOL and I have doubts thanks to the spin-offs. in shaman king marcos; marco was shy and victim of bullying and luchist saw good in him, adopted him and gave him a happy childhood (luchist doesn't seem an abuser) so how a shy bullied kid became a violent abuser adult? luchist said he was disciplined? does it means marco hit kids for not doing homework?

hao used to be good and became bad later in life, so can't stop thinking marco became bad 'cause of his hate for hao and his wish to get revenge, hate changes people. maybe he started abusing kids in search of the perfect weapon to kill hao and found it in jeanne, plus, living a big lie without nobody to share with, it must have driven mad, he lost it when yoh said he was the leader. so he was well aware of his lie.

hao wasn't a murderer, pain and human idiocy changed him.

and it may explain why luchist abandoned marco? luchist always wanted to join hao, but created x laws for marco, he was supposed to be a great father and left his son suddenly, maybe he couldn't see how bad marco became and couldn't kill him.

ren and chocolove did bad things and changed to good, so good people can change to bad. tamao changed too, she used to be shy and kind, now does she hit hana?

sorry, I'm just late to the party, 3 years late LOL not sure whether to watch shaman king flowers, it seems canceled and don't want to be in cliffhanger and have to wait 20 years more.

thanks for replying to my annoying questions LOL

Hao and Marco's childhoods are incomparable so they don't make for good comparisons. Hating someone with a burning passion doesn't suddenly turns people into (child) abusers. Sure it corrupts people, but corruption only ever shows what was already under someone's surface. With the attitude of the church at this time, it is very likely that Marco already picked up that behavior far before Hao came around. Hao was very much a murderer! He killed people, humans and shamans alike. That's the very definition of a murderer. Pain and trauma which isn't idiocy had twisted him into a murderer. A sobby backstory doesn't excuses away that he as someone who is mentally an adult throughout the entire story, killed plenty of innocents.

Ren, Joco and even the Shaft gang hadn't reached psychological maturity and never knew any better which is why I don't consider them the same as Hao. Adults should know better, and Hao still performed heinous crimes. You do know of Tamao's her arc into becoming a legendary gangster in her teens is one of the things Takei hasn't expanded upon, right? She and Ryu alike are probably more accustomed to tough love then gentle love. Yoh's dad literally slapped children, have you forgotten about that? We do have to take into account that corporal punishment is still much more common in Japan as it is in the West. It's more normalized over there as about 70% of Japanese children still get spanked at home. We do have to take account how certain cultures and time periods in Marco's case, normalize child abuse. It doesn't make it right, but at this point with the numerous examples we have seen, it's very clear that Takei himself is amongst those who believe in abusing children which is one of my issues with the franchise. PS: Whilst the 2021 is superior in terms of following the manga, I've been part of the fandom since the original anime aired. The Shaman King fandom has pretty much always been comatose. Welcome to the club. PPS: Also, Shaman King Flowers the anime was literally released in January in Japan....

[moonyasnow]

TWST OC Showcase: Tomoe Sakurada

Housewarden of Ramshackle; the Dorm based on the Lonely Ghosts' Spirit of Adaptability

(Vice Housewarden: Irina Barret)

Human Right-handed Japan - Ramshackle Dorm 159cm / 5'2 - #000000 / 0, 0, 0 January 1st - Capricorn - 19 y.o. 1st year - Freshman - Class A, no.9 No Club Best Subject: History of Magic Hobbies: History Pet peeves: Irresponsible People Favorite food: Unadon Least favorite food: Raw fish Talent: Storytelling Floyd-given name: Emperor Penguin Rook-given name: Mademoiselle Trickster Cater-given name: Tom-Tom

Link to all my OC Showcases here!

Some quotes:

「しゃ…しゃべる猫...！？」

She flushes with embarrassment. "Pardon me, I tend to get carried away when talking about history…"

She puts her face in her hands and sighs heavily, bordering on despairingly. "They are my friends, but…how could they be this stupid?!" — "Grim not having the foresight and being too cocky to anticipate this I could see coming. But the other two…!" She puts her face in her hands again and muffles a faint scream. "Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one in our quartet who does not occasionally just turn my brain off!" She slowly removes her hands and turns her face up to the ceiling, taking several long, deep breaths. "Now…let's try to find a way to fix this. Luckily, I know how men like that 高利貸し operate."

One day at Tokyo international airport, a newly hired businessman named Takahiro Sakurada, returning from his first work overseas, made eye-contact with a very pretty stewardess he remembered from his flight, Hanae…and then proceeded to miss the step-off of his escalator, while trying to steady himself somehow ending up doing some type of a flip before ending up on his back, legs up in the air against a wall, blowing his tie out of his eyes. Upon seeing this, Hanae began laughing uncontrollably nearby. Because of their jobs, they ended up meeting each other like that at airports quite often, and Takahiro eventually asked Hanae out on a date, and the rest is history. Eventually they married and had Tomoe, three years later followed by her younger sister Sachie and three years after that, younger brother Kouta. They ended up deciding on an arrangement where Takahiro would work as normal, just taking less international flights if possible, and Hanae would be a stay-at-home mother with the kids during the school months, and then take up her air stewardess job again during summer vacation, upon which the kids would stay with their paternal grandparents in a small, rural country-side farming village in the mountains. And when they were home with their parents like usual, they lived in a still quite small village right by the sea, and Tomoe, Sachie and Kouta would walk for 20 minutes to get to the train station, and then take a 30-minute train ride to the city where they went to school, then walk for 10 more minutes to reach the school from the train station.

Tomoe had always been a momma's girl, and looked up to her mother a lot. In Tomoe's opinion— and also in the opinion of her father— her mother was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. She was also incredibly kind, a hard worker, dependable, patient, accepting and an exceptionally loving mother. She's always wanted to be like her mother. Some of her favorite time with her mother was when they would cook together, . She also has many fond memories of times when Tomoe had forgotten to make lunch, only for her mother to hand her a bento as she was about to rush out the door, or kiss her hands if she got a paper-cut to 'kiss the boo-boo away'. She still did those things even after Tomoe had become an adult, saying she would always be her little girl. It usually made her a little bit bashful the older she got, but she liked it, still being spoiled a bit and treated like a kid by her mom even though she was supposed to be a responsible adult by that point. Her father had always been a little bit eccentric, a bit of a goofball with a love for stereotypical dad jokes, rhymes and wordplay that the whole family always said, but he never quite admitted, was very bad. He's a little bit clumsy, a little bit incomptetent, with a very big heart. As well as a bit of a scatterbrain who can get very worked up about small things, with a tendency to overdramatize, which paired well with her mother's more level head and calm, objective approach to life. Some of Tomoe's fondest memories of him are of him making up very strange reasons to try to scare them into doing things like brushing their teeth or always holding a parent's hand while crossing the road. Once he made up a story that if they're not pulled out, baby teeth eventually have baby teeth of their own, so if Tomoe and her siblings didn't get rid of them their mouths would be covered in tiny itty-bitty teeth. He was however very good at numbers, finance, and money in general, and to try to teach his kids to also be better about it he'd do things like make them sign contracts to go take out the trash in return for ice-cream, and sometimes he'd hide some strange things in the terms and conditions, and when they'd signed it he'd show them the thing he added and tell them that since he's their dad he'll be nice and let them off the hook, but to always be careful and think before signing something, especially if it appears too good to be true. And ALWAYS. READ. C O N T R A C T S.

Tomoe absolutely loves her family, and she and her siblings have always been really close. Her sister Sachie had always been the human firework of the family. She had endless energy and the attention span of a puppy, and their grandfather sometimes joked about not having a remote to turn down her volume. When she found something new she thought was exciting, she devoted her entire life, every single moment to it, lived and breathed it…fooor about a month. After which she found something new and started the process all over again. She had a lot of friends and loved talking to people. And in stark contrast, Kouta had always been the quiet one who preferred spending time to himself. He got tired by social interaction, was the first of the children to ask for his own room, had generally always liked being alone and was quite shy. He didn't speak a lot and had a face that stayed mostly stoic. though he spoke so little, the things he did say were always heard by the rest of the family, and they made sure to always include him, but also give him a choice of whether or not he wanted to join them, and let him know he could change his mind at any time. At family gatherings he usually preferred to sit in a corner listening to something or other on his headphones. He loved their grandmother most of all and usually always clung to her when he was little. He had always loved soccer, and could usually be found practicing by himself. He was part of a nearby soccer team, and whenever his team won a match he'd always blush and smile bashfully. For each child's birthday, they had a tradition of renting a hotel room in Tokyo for a day or two to go shopping, go to a theme park, watch movies or eat sweets and junk food. Since Tomoe's birthday coincides with the New Year— Shōgatsu— during her birthday trip she always chose to go to the biggest Shōgatsu celebration in Tokyo. She loved dressing up in a pretty kimono, eating hanami dango, candied apples and taiyaki, visiting a temple, and having fun with the people she loves. Watching the fireworks, it always felt like they were specifically for her, for her birthday. They'd arrive at around 23:30 on the last day of December, then celebrating the new year, watching the year's first sunrise together, then going to a temple to ring out the old year, then all eat pancakes for breakfast, still wearing their New Year's kimonos with fur lining.

If anyone in the family ever fought with each other, it was usually Tomoe and Sachie, what with how opposite their personalities are. Tomoe had always valued following the rules, being polite, neat and tidy, and being meticulous. And Sachie always just raced off at top speed towards anything she liked and spoke to everyone casually, not caring for rules much and being bad at cleaning up after herself. When it was just Tomoe, Sachie and Kouta, Tomoe was left in charge, and once while they were together at a summer Fireworks festival, Tomoe literally had to tie a ribbon between her and Sachie's wrists to make sure Sachie didn't run away. She got pretty upset about that and was mad at Tomoe almost the entire time, asking why Kouta didn't also have a ribbon on his wrist, and Tomoe replied 'because Kouta is well-behaved'. They fought sometimes, but they never formally made up, since they as siblings knew each other well enough to realize that fighting sometimes was just how things went between them. Well, they only formally made up if the argument they'd gotten in had been bad enough, at the behest of their parents or grandparents. And they always knew the other loved them.

She'd always loved hearing stories about things that happened long, long ago. As a child, she'd often beg her grandfather to tell her stories about when his father and mother both worked as doctors in World War II, and loved listening to her grandmother describe what things were like when she was little. She thought all the old people in her town were so cool because of all the things they knew and how much stuff they'd done over the years, and how much they'd seen which she hadn't. Which is why as soon as she started going to school and learning history, she absolutely fell in love with the entire subject. It boggled her tiny mind that there was so much she didn't know that people had done before she was even born. So many people's stories, all weaving together to form a tapestry of the world. Her history teacher, a half-Japanese, half Mexican man named Mr. Cabello— a large burly man with a full beard— was her favorite teacher, and the clear passion he had for his subject as well as his sense of humor always made her even more interested to keep learning more about history. He was her inspiration for wanting to be a history teacher in the first place.

She was part of a group of a total of four friends, with three other people besides her. When she was 6, on the first day she started school, two girls came up to her to introduce themselves, since they noticed she was alone at recess. Well, more like one of them charged over to her and the other trailed along behind the other one. The one who approached her first was very friendly and held out her hand to introduce herself as Tooru Yamato, and the other as Kaede Okazaki. Kaede and Tooru had known each other their entire lives, since they lived right next to each other, and their families had become friends before they were born. So they were practically raised together, and always went to the same school, ever since the first day of kindergarten. The three of them became friends, with Tooru acting somewhat as the leader, with her very open, unashamed and straightforward personality. But she could become a bit too fired up and eccentric at times, which is when Kaede would pull her away before she embarrassed herself too much. She also had very big plans, but wasn't always very responsible, which Tomoe told her wouldn't do if she really wanted to 'become an astronaut' like she'd always talked about. Kaede was the youngest, born on December 30th at the end of the year, technically 363 days after Tomoe, and was always very laid back and casual about everything, often bringing up funny ideas that she knew Tooru would think sounded awesome and wanna do right that instant, just because she thought seeing Tooru excited was nice. And also kinda funny due to the extreme lengths she'd sometimes go to in order to do those things, all of which Kaede had prevented from becoming even more extreme. And Tomoe was often the ones who scolded them when both of them got a bit too wrapped up in their fun. She was often the voice of reason, but, to her resigned acceptance, 'the baby of the group. All due to her being the shortest and having been really shy as a child when they'd first met, which she'd long since outgrown. But she didn't mind it too much. She just knew it meant they cared a lot about her. Then when they were 12, their school got a transfer student from Tokyo. So they met the final member of their group: Miki Uehara. They started hanging out when one day, Tooru charged over and in her usual loud tone of voice asked Miki an endless barrage of questions, introducing both herself as well as Kaede and Tomoe. Kaede had to rein her in again, and Tomoe apologized for her rudeness. After school that day, since Tomoe was going home with Kaede and Tooru to hang out, they asked if Miki wanted to come with, and Tomoe said they could show her around the city, since she'd only just arrived a day or two ago, and she accepted, acting like she didn't have anything to do anyway. But Tomoe noticed she seemed a bit excited. Miki was a bit of an ice queen with a prickly attitude who always seemed to be looking down on everyone else. She was the type who acted like most things were stupid, but did secretly care. She was very into fashion, following many really expensive fashion magazines religiously, and also loved taking glamour shots of herself, which Tooru and Kaede loved photobombing. Miki acted annoyed, but kept each and every single one. They all made a promise that when in the future they had families of their own— because Tomoe wanted to be a mother and might consider adopting a child on her own if she didn't marry anyone, and Tooru said she was going to adopt at least 5 pets— they would all remain close and let their children play together.

Years passed, and eventually, the time drew closer to the end of High School and her and her friends' graduation. They had all applied to schools they wanted to attend after graduation, and they would receive replies sometime during the break. Tomoe was looking forward to graduating, although it would also feel a bit sad. Their lives would all change forever, and they'd become adults. The end of school was a bittersweet feeling, but they were all looking forward to what the future would bring, and to keep sharing their lives with each other even though they went on separate tracks. Tooru said she was going to be an astronaut, with studying business marketing as a second choice and starting her own marketing company. Miki was going to try to get into a school focused on fashion design and marketing. Kaede was going to take a year off to think about what she wanted to do. And Tomoe— of course— was going to continue her studies of history and anthropology and get a teaching degree. And they all promised to stay in touch, to call and text every day and update each other on what was happening in their lives. And, like they always had, they'd go to summer firework festivals together.

Some miscellaneous info about her:

She's very responsible, and as an oldest sibling, used to being in charge of people less emotionally mature than her. This often makes it so that when she's around someone younger than her, or someone who ACTS younger, she has a tendency to slip into 'mom' mode.

She's VERY smart, though she doesn't often display it openly, as she leans quite heavily into the Japanese societal rules of politeness and humility. But she does have a lot of pride for the fact she always got the best grades in her entire school back at home. She was always at the top of the school rankings grade-wise, and was often asked for help tutoring. She's a very quick thinker in general, and has really good skills of observation and deduction, while not being too proud to have her mind changed and being flexible enough to change her approach quickly when presented with new information. She's also quite the strategist— Zhuge Liang of 'Romance of the Three Kingdoms' fame is one of her biggest idols— and nowadays she's gotten used to no one really being able to beat her at Shogi.

But she's not always the best at working in groups. She's very aware of her own strengths, limits and capablities, and is very careful, being good at changing up her plan last-minute if it calls for it, and often knowing just what to do to make it so. But when something out of her control goes wrong in her plan- which it basically never does since she's so good at quickly changing course- she's not great at dealing with it. So she often prefers doing all the work on her own, even in group projects, because, while it might sound egotistical, she's aware she's often more competent than the people she's grouped with, and knows she could do it all herself. So therefore, needing to leave it to other people whose competency she doesn't always trust is difficult for her. She at least prefers to instruct them on how to do it.

She's always been a person with a love for humanity and for the earth, a positive person who can see the good in everything. And the people around her have always said that seeing her smile happily is a captivating sight. She's the kind of person who sometimes calls people she cares about out of the blue just because she started thinking of them and wanted to hear their voice and speak to them for a while, even if there's nothing she really wants to say. She loves the people in her life a lot.

In her free-time, she practices Kyūdō, or Japanese Archery. The art requires a lot of patience and discipline, and to her it's a sort of meditation, as well.

She also follows the rules of politeness, manners and hospitality as much as she can, being very polite to others. When it comes to other people's manners, if anyone around her gets into trouble for being rude, she will be of the opinion that their rudeness definitely lead to it, and insist they apologize. And if someone she feels some level of authority or responsibility over— like Grim, for example— she will definitely tell them off for being rude right away. But otherwise she mostly lets people behave however they like, so long as it doesn't pose a problem to anyone else.

At NRC:

For her and Irina, I'll be doing breakdowns of what they did during and in-between the books. Includes spoilers for: Books 1-7

On a night like any other, just one week before her High School graduation, she went to sleep like normal, prepared to wake up and go to school the next day like she always had. Her head was swirling with hopes for the future, and of looking forward to seeing her friends again like usual. And the next day after school, she would pick up her siblings from school, and then go home to celebrate Kouta's 12th birthday, Tomoe having a gift for him in her closet that she was excited to give him.

But when she woke up, she wasn't in her futon. She was laying on top of something that was hard, but a little bit too soft to really be called hard. It was like a carpeted floor, or a very thin chair-cushion. When she came to consciousness, her body felt stiff and her back hurt. All she could see in front of her was darkness. She tried to open her eyes, but saw the same thing, so closed them again. In the distance she thought she could hear the muffled sound of someone talking...

But for a while, none of it really seemed real; she was too tired to realize how different it was from when she'd fallen asleep the night before, and her mind was still fuzzy enough that she thought it was a dream. But a light source was suddenly introduced into her small, dark world. The lid had been removed from the box she was laying in. Now when she blinked open her eyes, her sight was filled with the bright glow of blue flames, and the knowledge that the somewhat hard, somewhat soft surface she'd been laying on was the interior of a coffin, its walls laced with a plush velvet.

And then cue the whole Grim business. But, when she went with the Headmage into the hall of mirrors, there was already a commotion, due to the fact that people were talking about a 'magicless student'. There was a very nervous-looking girl with long pink hair standing in front of the mirror, looking like a cornered animal, having literally frozen up in fear.

When Tomoe also eventually went up to the mirror, and it declared her, too, as magicless, the room broke out into further uproar, and Crowley had to make the Housewardens hurry to get their students to their respective dorms.

Tomoe and the girl, whose name was revealed to be 'Irina', spoke with each other and to the Headmage about their homelands, it was discovered the two of them knew of each other's homes, meaning they had to at least be from the same world, ruling out the possibility of either one of them lying about it, since it was obvious they'd never met each other before.

As for all the Books, she generally does what canon Yuu does, but I'll state anything that deviates or is of particular interest.

Book 1

When Ace came to Ramshackle and she found out why he'd been collared, the first thing she did was tell him that it's very rude to just eat something from a communal fridge without asking first. But in the end, she at least agreed to help him make a new tart and come with him to apologize.

Book 2

As soon as they encountered Ruggie, she immediately knew he'd done something, like magic of some kind, knowing food was the one thing Grim would never concede, and so was immediately suspicious of him. While she didn't decide to link Ruggie to the case they were investigating immediately, she certainly pinned him as a possible suspect right away.

Book 3

For a few weeks, Grim ended up becoming quite sick. He'd eaten something long past the expiry date, then a bad cold took advantage of his weakened state. He was forced to mostly stay in bed, meaning it was up to Tomoe to do all the school work for once. She was absolutely ecstatic.

Her and Grim's grades suddenly shot up dramatically, going from the lower brackets to the top 50, landing comfortably at place #5. Tomoe was extremely happy, feeling a sense of peace overcome her she hadn't realized she'd been missing. It almost felt like torture to her to be in any way linked to such a bad grade.

That she got such a massive spike up in her grades during the exam period caused a lot of raised eyebrows. Ace and Deuce ended up asking her if she'd 'made a deal with Azul too'. She had no idea what they were talking about— until anemones suddenly sprouted from their heads.

When Crowley himself asked her if she'd made a deal with Azul to make her grades so good, she was incredibly offended. She, an honest student who'd gotten straight As through her entire school career and was proud of it, would never cheat! The only teacher who really believed her was her favorite teacher, Professor Trein. He was the teacher who got to see the most of just how engaged she always was in class because she'd be one of the few who constantly raised her hand to ask questions, and payed a lot of attention in his class, even while everyone else had fallen asleep around her. Confirmation from him that he at least knew she'd never cheat— him even telling her that he knew she was smart and could do great if she was only given the chance— calmed her down enough to ensure that her coming battle against Azul wasn't fueled by her desire to clear her name.

Not to say she wasn't still very frustrated by the situation.

And after it was all over....

She went up to them and flicked each of them once on the forehead. "I am very disappointed in all three of you. If it was so easy for you to gain access to a study guide, how would it not occur to any of you that many others must also be able to easily access it?! Not to even mention how obviously shady Azul is! If you wanted help studying, you should have just asked me, Riddle, Cater or Trey for help. Or anyone, really!" She sighed. "Thanks to assistance from Leona, Ruggie and Jack we were able to break you free from your contracts and get your magic back. But next time— and I dearly hope there will not be a next time— something like this happens, there is no guarantee that we would be able to. So I want all three of you to promise me that nothing like this will ever happen again." Her eyes bore holes into each of them. "Are we clear?" — "I said 'are we clear?'" Tomoe is not typically someone who gets upset— in fact, it takes a lot to make her truly angry— but when speaking in this situation, her tone was stern, bordering on threatening. She posed an intimidating figure, standing with her hands on her hips looking at the three of them lined up before her with her eyes and brows narrowed in frustration, as though she was looking down at them despite Ace and Deuce being quite a bit taller than her. As well as the fact she was speaking in a louder voice than normal, almost booming, going quite a bit lower than her usual tone of voice. — "Good." She sighed gently and her face and tone of voice returned to normal. "From now on, every other Sunday between 10 and 12 we will have a study session at Ramshackle dorm."

Tomoe ended up becoming a frequent thorn in Azul's side, advising students not to make contracts with him and that if they believed the deal seemed fair, he would find a way to tip it in his favor. The two hate each other. But they also have some respect for the other as academic rivals, and just how closely matched they were in terms of intelligence as well as hard work, waging some manner of silent war with each other all throughout the rest of their time at school. Lawful Good vs. Lawful Evil

And seeing her, to him surprising, ruthlessness in getting his help, Leona gained quite a bit of respect for her as a person after it was all over. In fact they both ended up realizing that, despite the obvious difference in her being so hands-on and his hands-off approach, they were remarkably similar. In Leona, for the first time, she found someone who could keep up with her natural quick-thinking. She actually felt her heart flutter a little when their first chess match against each other resulted in a draw.

And after the events at Mostro Lounge, she 'somehow' seemed to find her way to where he was more often. Or perhaps it was him who just 'happened' to be in places she'd pass by. Maybe a bit of both. They both began to introduce each other to more and more strategic board games, Tomoe to Yoté and Dara, Leona to Shogi and Go, and kept finding their win-lose ratio begin to plateau as soon as the other figured out the rules. It didn't take long before many students were betting on who would win the next match. They may not have been there for the actual games themselves, but it was usually easy to tell who won, lost, or if it was a draw based on the two's respective moods.

It felt refreshing to for once be allowed to go all out against someone and not have to bother thinking about being polite all the time. She was still very polite toward everyone else, of course, but he was a special exception. The two teased each other quite often, too. It seemed that both of them could dish it out, but neither could really take it, huffing and pouting and becoming defensive when the other did it. He made her incredibly frustrated at times, which was a very new experience for her, as she'd never had an equal she could really get upset at without it being for good reason before. With him she didn't always need to be responsible and mature or relied upon. She kinda liked it. He could get under her skin in a way no one else had ever managed to; challenged her in a way she'd never realized she craved.

And as for his side of things, she had a lot more patience with him than most people did. She treated him just like she would anyone else. She wasn't afraid to call him out on it when he acted out of turn, and stuck by him even when he did, but otherwise didn't mind his grouchy, callous way of acting, sometimes even teasing him for 'acting like a grumpy cat'. Eventually it became commonplace to see her sitting under a tree while Leona used her lap as a pillow, Tomoe turning the pages of a book laid on the grass with one hand and using the other to play with his hair. And, knowing how much it hurt her that no one in Twisted Wonderland knew anything about Earth history and she thus couldn't talk about it with anyone, he let her basically infodump to him about it whenever she wanted— so long as she kept playing with his hair, of course. He always acted like he was asleep, but really, he listened. And she knew he did. And he probably knew that she knew. But they didn't say anything about it. For once, they didn't need to.

And Leona actually ended up making her more open to being a bit less hands-on, learning to delegate and to trust they were competent enough to handle themselves. And she in turn encouraged him to become more involved in the activities of his Dorm where it was needed, such as cracking down on Savannaclaw students' frequent starting of fights.

She can also tend to overwork herself sometimes, so Leona forcefully pulling her away to take a nap was exactly what she needed. And Leona having been the one at fault also gave her some kind of excuse for why she was 'slacking off'. And when Cheka visited, she was more than happy to take over Leona's responsibility of babysitting him; she'd always loved kids and had a very motherly personality, and the little lion's eyes always lit up when he begged her to tell him another story. ...Though Leona did become a little bit jealous of her spending so much time away from him when Cheka visited, so he often ended up joining in on their activities anyway.

Book 4

She knew what was up basically as soon as she heard Jamil refer to her and Grim as having helped other dorms.

Book 5

She was one of the few who actually liked Vil's diet, always having liked vegetables and healthy food. Not to mention it felt nice to have the whole 'food' situation handled. She was happy that Irina, who insisted on cooking for her and Grim a lot got to take a break from it too, even if she noticed irina seemed to be quite anxious about it. Irina seemed quite anxious in general to suddenly have so many new people living at Ramshackle, and Tomoe thought she seemed to really miss the quiet of the Dorm.

And when Vil ended up finding out just how good Tomoe's grades were, but that Ace, Deuce and Grim's grades were still that bad... He lost a little bit of hope in humanity.

Book 6

She went after Grim. The whole incident made her realize just how important Grim had become to her in such a short time; she felt like a mother who'd lost her child. She was worried for the others too, especially Leona, but she knew they could handle themselves. It also made her realize that...she was probably going to end up staying in Twisted Wonderland. If she went back home, she'd most likely be 'that one mysterious disappearance case who turned up again' for the rest of her life. Not to mention that she'd be the only one who knew what had happened in the months she'd been gone; no one else would ever believe her. And she knew that her friends and family had each other. But Grim only really had her. And she wasn't going to just leave him.

And after the events of this Book... She has nothing against him personally, and knows he didn't exactly have much of a choice in what happened, but she can't help but not like Idia especially much. She just associated him with her friends being injured, her Dorm destroyed and what is bacially her son being kidnapped. She's always been very open-minded and believes in forgiveness if the other person has owned up to and endevoured to change their behavior or weren't even entirely at fault in the first place. And she'd even admit that she thinks they could potentially become friends, as she also likes video games a fair bit. But as of right now, the wound is still too fresh.

Book 7

I have not yet read Book 7, though I've been able to surmise basically what the main plot is.

She is asleep. She dreams of some strange, fanfiction-esque alternate reality: a historical Japanese setting based off the media she'd engaged with of the Muromachi period. Everyone she's met from Twisted Wonderland is there, as is her family and friends from back home, and she's the Samurai/Strategist/closest companion/lover of Leona, who's here the second son to the Emperor and breaks away from the Imperial family and starts a war to win personal status. She knew she couldn't persuade him it was a bad idea, so instead she decided to just do everything she could to make sure their war went smoothly.

But she's always been more interested in the lives of historical people in general, whether they be Priests or Warlords or Commoners or Emperors, than she has in the actual bloody side of warfare. So the dream barely actually shows any of the 'war' parts, seeming to be mostly just in a lull period where preparations are still being made, but the war has already broken out. And when it does show combat, there's way more of an emphasis on the strategy.

And on the topic of me technically having 2 'Yuu's, here is which events Tomoe would go to. If there is a Story Event not on this list, assume Irina went:

Fairy Gala: Operation Steal the Show Wish Upon a Star Camp Vargas Exercise in Survival Twisted Halloween: Spectral Soiree Sam's New Year Sale: 2023 (EN server) Portfest: A Striking Performance Tamashina Mina Twisted Tsumderland 1 Playful land Stitch's Tropical Turbulence

Bonus: Family & Friends

From left to right: Miki, Tooru, Kaede, Tomoe

[quinnharperwrites]

The Isles of Blirrosia: Chapter One

Taglist: @anonymousfoz, @kaiarchives, and @awleeofficial Let me know if you want to be added!

Note: Feedback is very much desired! This is my first major work since I took a break; even if it's a little note about a part you liked or didn't like, it'll make me very happy. At least people are reading it, haha. Also, I am still looking for a beta reader. If you're interested, please message me. Finally, I might edit the earlier chapters and repost them, but I will be clear that it's the edited version. Thank you and enjoy!

Next Chapter >

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It was a cloudy, crisp Monday morning in January, yet it was fair and still. Pleasant. It was warmer from the top of the city rooftops, but Saffron didn’t mind. She sat on the edge of the roof of a random office building, her feet swinging in excitement over the bustling rush hour traffic. Normally, she would be in her Hero Ethics class, but she was called in to cover a hero today. Something she’d done multiple times in the past. But this time was different.

Recently, there has been a supervillain causing trouble in the city. From Saffron’s perspective, he was pretty inadequate, which was partly the reason why the Hero Association decided it was safe enough for a student to help out. Her job was to patrol the city and keep an eye out for suspicious activity. They had given her a proper file and a walkie-talkie—she’s never gotten them before! Normally, she would team up with a hero and stop a petty crime. But those were kinda on the police department's level.

“We got a bank robbery on 86th and Second. Witness descriptions match the Stardust Absorber. Over.”

“Finally.” Her first active bank robbery. Today was going to be a good day.

Saffron lifted her feet on the rooftop edge, then launched herself off. She let herself freefall for a moment, relishing in the addicting feeling of being weightless. Completely vulnerable. But before her ears could pop from the rapid descent, she raised her arms as straight as possible and summoned black aura spheres in both of her open palms. Then, she willed the aura to wrap around her body, lift her into the sky, and take off in the direction of the robbery. She reached for her walkie-talkie to respond to the police department.

“Hero student: Aura. On my way. Over.”

Contrary to the general public’s belief, there is no traction in the air. She wasn’t sure how it was for other aptitudes that allow flight, but in her case, she had to use her aura to push off molecules in the air. Since the process is invisible to the eye, it looks like she’s flying effortlessly when it takes a lot of concentration.

Since Saffron had just sacrificed a decent amount of her concentration on responding to the walkie-talkie, she suffered the consequences by nearly crashing into a billboard. 

“Ugh,” Saffron groaned. “The press is going to have a field day with this.” She took a few moments to redirect herself, then sped off faster to make up for lost time.

As she neared the bank, Saffron caught a glimpse of a white blur also heading towards the location. The murky feeling of dread crept up her sides as her feet touched the pavement outside the bank. The aura diminished in a way that was only possible due to hours of training. 

“Aura! Over here!” an officer called out. 

“I’m here!” Saffron replied. “What’s the situation?”

“We’ve confirmed that it is the Stardust Absorber. No hostages, but after what happened last time, we decided to secure the perimeter and wait for a hero to arrive.” This was normal; she usually helped with the perimeter. But she was cut short before she could ask about where she was wanted.

“Sensation is on scene. Aura, assist him.” Another officer and a hero clad in white join the conversation. Just her luck. Only Sensation could taint the experience of being able to participate in taking down a bank robber. Why couldn’t have it been Steela or Water Jelly instead?

The hero-student duo made their way to the bank.

“Remember. No direct attacks,” Sensation said.

“I remember. I was told.”

Just making sure, Saffy.” 

Saffy?

“We’re working right now, Sensation. Right now, it’s Aura. Off-field, it’s Saffron to you. Only people close to me can call me Saffy.”

“Aren’t we close, Saffy?”

They are approaching the doors at this point. “It’s Aura. And no.” 

“But we can be,” he teased.

“No! We aren’t close, and we certainly aren’t friends. I’ve told you so many ti-”

“Now is the time to focus, Aura. We’re in the middle of a bank robbery,” he interrupted.

Saffron huffed but gritted her teeth in determination. At least he wasn’t talking anymore. In the corner of her eye, she saw Sensation enhance his muscles. So he was going physical. She summoned a black aura around herself and let it seep into her muscles. Almost instantly, she felt the increase in energy. 

They entered the bank. The pair turned their backs toward each other and faced outward. Then, they made their way to the center of the bank.

“Let’s split up to cover more ground,” Sensation ordered. 

Saffron made a sound of agreement before making her way to the upper level of the bank. It circled the building like an indoor balcony. She noticed the dangling crystal decoration hanging from the ceiling. 

She opened the first door on the left and emptied her head. Everyone has an aura tied to their physical body in the Aurasphere, and unless they have an aptitude to conceal it, Saffron could always use it to detect someone. It took a significant amount of concentration to focus on the Aurasphere. But this is what she trained for. 

“Clear!” she called out.

She checked the next room. “Clear!”

After analyzing heroes in class, she deduced that Sensation preferred a stealthier approach. But students are required to regularly call out the status of their search in case something happens. 

Three more rooms were checked. Three more rooms were cleared.

Saffron opened a door near the center of the balcony. Just as she entered the Aurasphere, she detected an aura quickly heading in her direction. 

She hastily exited the Aurasphere and grounded herself. A green man in a Halloween goblin costume was launched into the air, about to punch her. What a joke.

She grabbed his forearm and swung him to the ground out in the hallway.

“Found him!” she called out.

The Stardust Absorber quickly got up and rushed at her. 

Saffron swung one fist at him, then the other. He dodged both. 

Sensation jumped up from the ground floor to the upper level. He was running to join the fight. But he was too far away.

She kicked her left leg toward the Absorber’s head. He dodged. But she was already driving her right leg towards his neck. The Absorber recoiled to her right. She hit him with a right hook twice. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sensation standing to the side. Supervising. They both knew she had this clown under control.

The Absorber finally hit her back with his arm, causing her to fall. But before she could faceplant, she caught herself with her hands and attacked him with a flurry of kicks to the head. He was able to dodge a couple with his wrists, but he ultimately was struck by most of them. 

She ended the blitz attack by propelling herself off the ground with her hands and pounding his face with a two-foot kick. She flipped backward and gracefully landed on her feet in a fighting stance. A moment later, he plummeted to the floor with a thud. 

“Don’t you think that last part was a bit showy?”

“You’re one to talk.” 

Just when she thought he was down for good, the Stardust Absorber pushed himself off the ground, stood up, and hurled himself at her with a screech.

When he got close, Saffron propelled her right leg towards the side of his face, then she left, and then her right again. She continued the cycle until she dipped her upper body down to gain momentum and swung her left leg towards his torso. 

Upon impact, he was sent flying and ended up getting tangled in the hanging crystal decoration. 

“What an amateur. Didn’t even get my heart pumping. I’m disappointed.”

After she said this, the Absorber increased his efforts to escape, resulting in him getting tangled further.

“Maybe we should try to get him to be used as practice at your university.”

“Who’s we? And that’s an insult.”

“Of course, it is, Miss Top-Of-Her-Class.” He chuckled and called for the police to make the arrest. “Let’s go get some coffee, Saffy. I can file the ROHA later. And I’ll cover you,” he baited.

“No. Stop asking me out, Matteo. And stop sending me flowers.”

“But you keep them every time.”

“That’s only because I—ugh, never mind. I don’t have time for this. I’m going to be late for class.” She flew past the officers and out the door. Trying to refocus, she landed on the roof, released the aura, and did a breathing exercise. “In for four, hold for seven, and out for eight. Don’t let him get to you, Saffron.”

Once calm, Saffron engulfed herself in the familiar black aura and soared toward school.

______________________________________________________________

“Gotcha now, Absorber. Gonna put cha’ away for a long time.” Two cops held the villain by his arms as they shoved him over the police car.

“Yeah, tell ‘em, Marv! I’d be embarrassed if I were him. Sensation and Aura were barely in there for ten minutes! Hah!”

“Got anythin’ to say for yourself, Absorber?”

“That’s not my name,” the green foe growled.

“Huh?” 

“I said,” he repeated, “That’s not. My. Name.”

“Alright, then. What do you wanna call yourself?”

“Draven!” 

“Gesundheit.”

“I didn’t sneeze, you incompetent oaf! That’s my name. Draven!”

The two cops looked at each other, then at Draven, and then back at each other before bursting with laughter.

“Ahahaha! Harry! Ya hear that?” Marv wheezed. “He calls himself Draven!”

“What a moron!”

“Stop laughing! You should be cowering at the mention of my name!” At this, the two cops howled with laughter even more.

“Alright, alright,” Harry chuckled. “We read you your Miranda rights already, so just get in the car,” he replied, pushing Draven into the car.

“Draven, hahaha. Can you imagine?”

“Clown costume and everything. Hah!”

Next Chapter >

[three--rings]

God, so okay, so, I want to say. . .

Pretty Follies is still out there as my hanging OFMD WIP. I never intended to abandon it, I just got two consecutive cases of major Ship Brain with new ships and then couldn't really get back into the mood.

Part of me told myself I would finish it before S2 aired. I remember when I updated it in January I thought: well S2 might air in March/April so I have time to finish this....and then nothing, and I thought well, good I have more time to finish this.

And now okay I have a Deadline.

But...for a while I felt like I couldn't write at all. And then I got obsessed by Shuake and couldn't stop writing for them, and wrote some stuff that got some VERY VERY nice comments that helped my writer self esteem. So I also have THAT wip hanging over my head

Because then I was in the fucking CAR ACCIDENT. And since then I've felt like I have not only negative writing ability, but I haven't even READ anything.

(A lot of stream of conscious babbling under here about IDK where I'm at RN...)

Like honestly, not even a joke, it's been three weeks and I haven't read a single fic. And like at first, sure, it was terrible pain and heavy medication and then it was less pain but still medicated and now it's not that much pain at all and mostly my normal level of medicated (cause not to forget I'm a chronic pain patient none of this is new to me.)

But I've felt so utterly braindead. All I've been able to do is watch Youtube and play very brainless video games. (And also partly watch and partly co-play Red Dead Redemption 2 with my husband which has been a DELIGHT. I've played it before but he hasn't so I'm getting to enjoy his first time reactions. It's a let's play from next to me, and then when it's too hard he hands me the controller to kill everyone.)

And I've basically been living waiting for TOMORROW which is when Starfield will go live (for me) because I've been anticipating this game for so freaking long. And my plan was basically to spend the next couple months doing nothing but play it.

But now...I'm like, also in a month there's OFMD. And I should try to write. And I don't know if I KNOW HOW.

IDK my writing mojo has always been a thing that is mysterious and does not respond well to forcing. Like, when it's gone I have to just do other things and it will come back, but damn it's bad for finishing things. And I don't even really remember what I was doing with Pretty Follies except that EVERY PART OF MY BRAIN IS ON FIRE with that bride wedding topper. That's, like, part of that fic's verse. I don't care. It's in there. It's what I'm talking about with Ed in that fic. IT's YES.

BLAH IDK IDK I should reread my own fic I guess. But also my brain doesn't want to.

It's weird how suffering is like...BAD for energy and artistic motivation. And I'm mostly just now coming out of the suffering and I've stopped sleeping 12+ hours every day, but like, also I have weeks and weeks of recovery still. So...IDK

I'm allowed to be lazy RN. IDK. It's ... annoying.

[langernameohnebedeutung]

What is the take. Please share with the class.

Oh, right my take! (I actually posted the first...thoughts of this accidentally before I could finish it because I accidentally queued them instead of drafting but that gave me more time to obsess over this)

So you know how in 2.14 this happens:

Blaine gets kidnapped by Stacey Boss, has his throat slit, and gets buried in the woods. And then by the time he digs himself back out:

Sun's up.

For a really long time, I really never thought about these scenes beyond: 'heh, there is my boy again, good for him!' until it really struck me how fucked up that was. (Partially bc I watched that Buffy episode where the others bring her back from the dead and she has to dig herself out of her own grave and everyone is horrified by how traumatising that experience must have been. Which made me go: Hey, this reminds me of-)

Blaine was down there for hours buried alive. He dug himself out for hours.

But then I thought: Hey, I can do better! I want to find out how long he was down there!

So, at first I assumed that the abduction would have taken place in the middle of the night - because that's when it would make most sense to abduct someone. But that didn't really make sense bc in all the other plots happening at the same time, everyone was still out and about, the Positivity-café from the murder of the week plot is still open etc.

But then I found this:

This takes place just two scenes after Blaine gets buried - so even if we can't really pin down whether those events happen at the same time or this one takes place a little after Blaine got buried, we can still settle for Blaine getting buried between about 7pm and (at the very latest) 7:30pm.

I skimmed through the two previous episodes and the one after that but I couldn't find anything about when this takes place - but we do know that it's really dark outside at 7pm and we do know that New Year's Eve happened Method Head four episodes ago, so it's after Winter Solstice.

So like any normal sane adult I got me this diagramme of sunrise/sunset times in Seattle throughout the year:

Now, at least several weeks have passed since Method Head so this places us well within February (which makes sense, bc the episode also originally aired on the 23rd of February 2016).

Personally, I'm actually prone to dating it even earlier, in early February or late January because they go out of their way to give us this information:

And I found this on a website about Seattle's bird-life:

Now, working out way backwards about two weeks -

-places us in late January, or very early February. Which means (referring back to our daylight diagramme), Blaine couldn't have managed to get out of that grave before 7:20am or 7:30 am.

Which gives us a pretty exact duration for how long Blaine was buried alive of about - Approximately 12 hours (minus the time it took to actually fill up the grave. Something I'll come back to)

Which is fucked up. That would be a pretty traumatic experience on normal person terms, being buried alive for 12 hours and digging yourself back out. Possibly even longer than that because by the time Blaine arrives at the morgue, it is actually well past noon -

but that would obviously include the bus-ride and we don't know how long that was. (In fact, I had a look at Google Maps and dabbled a bit to see how long different public transport rides from any surrounding forests or parks or other green areas to the inner city of Seattle would take, and it could very well be possible that Stacey just really wanted to make sure that Blaine's body wouldn't be found and had him buried really far away in any of the surrounding National Parks or national forests - and from google maps tells me, public transport only goes so far and he'd have have walked the rest, which would explain why it's already noon.

(by the way, what do people without hyperfixiations do all day? Do you just ... not use bird-mating seasons and daylight hours and public transport schedules from a city on the other side of the globe to figure out the date and time of day of tv-show events?)

But this is where speculation actually starts:

As the audience, we learn that Blaine is returning to zombie state before he gets abducted:

he can't really taste his wine anymore (and god, is he whiny about it.)

What we don't know is whether Blaine connects the dots.

What does happen is that Blaine abandons his mission of getting wine-drunk over the woes of having to pay back his debts to Mr Boss and instead suggests that Candy and he have genie costume role-play sex. Candy apparently considers this a delightful and charming notion and agrees - and they go to have sex inside another couple's coffin. Which is fitting bc now they're both dying - Blaine from reverting to zombie form and Candy because she is now infected as well. Though it need be said that as the audience, we only learn about Candy's infection after Blaine’s abduction, when Don E finds her eating the coffin owners' brains the next morning.

This also gives us some insight into the stage of his infection (which is a bit hard to tell with Blaine because he's already dyeing his hair white) - He's already infectious and showing symptoms. We had characters like Sloane who even got turned after clinical death - so at this point, Blaine's probably pretty fit to withstand some throat cutting.

Now this leaves us with two working theories:

Either: Blaine doesn't know he's a zombie again. And really thought he was going to die in the forest, up until the point at least that he survived having his throat cut or until he found himself buried alive and started digging his way back up. The latter probably being the most terrifying option. (Also: this had me thinking about how something very similar happened to Liv - she fell off the boat in the Pilot episode - and then she wakes up in a body bag. Which most likely means she died of drowning.)

Or: He did know.

Unlike most people who get turned, Blaine already knows the signs. That's personally the theory that I'm partial to. The biggest reason being that one episode later, he actually argues in favour of letting Mr Boss continue to think that he's dead - so getting abducted and faking his death actually played pretty well into his hands. Also, he very abruptly switches subjects from drinking to sleeping with Candy. And not only is infecting people kind of Blaine's thing - he also now has the perfect alibi of allegedly not knowing that he's contagious again. He gets to tie Candy to him and his business (and his brains) with perfect plausible deniability if he says he didn't know he was a zombie again. Sure, there might be some hard feelings but what can she really do? She's gonna need the brains. That's a pretty classic Blaine plan.

(there is also the third option - which is that he can tell that he's turning back but because this round of zombificiation is very different from his first one he can't really tell what's happening to him or where he's at. So if he suspects that he's turning but can't really tell what's going inside his body at this point - sleeping with Candy is still a good strategy to find out (because either she turns and he knows he's a zombie again AND he pretty much guaranteed her loyalty to his brain business OR she doesn't turn - and he at least got some nookie out of it. Plus, she's probably more likely to go along with that than with experimental scratching or blood-sharing.)

Either way, they gave him an incentive not to reveal his reversion, if he noticed it, to Candy - and we know he actively wanted to make Mr Boss believe that he's dead so he doesn't really have much incentive to put up a big fight or reveal himself or go into rage state either, during his abduction. (In this context it's interesting to point out that neither in the car nor in the woods do they have a gun to his head. So if he knows he's a zombie and he actively wanted to get away, his odds would actually have been higher taking his chances with a surprise tackle and a jump out of the car than letting them bring him wherever they're bringing him.

Which then brings me to his 'execution':

Another thing that stands out is that there isn't a lot of blood for someone who had just had his jugular cut, even after several seconds of lying in the grave.

There is the Doylist interpretation (tv restrictions) and the Watsonist one - he's a zombie, so obviously he doesn't bleed much. Though, on iZombie these explanations often go hand in hand and the zombie-thing is a way of having the characters suffer severe injuries without too much gore going on. The reason I'm bringing this up is that - if this is considered weird inside the reality of the show (the Watsonist level), then there is a surprising lack of reaction from the three seasoned murderers witnessing this scene. No one going "Wait why isn't he bleeding properly???"

On the other hand, pretty much the same gambit works on the same people from Don E at the end of the season and he canonically is a zombie, so it seems fair to attribute this to their expectation that someone who has his throat cut and is not moving is probably dead enough.

So that's that for Mr Boss' guys, but the real question is -

what's going on with Blaine.

Now, throughout the show, we see several zombies suffer severe throat injuries. (And in fact, several of those people are Blaine because he's just such a popular guy) We have our poor pal Luta, who got stabbed into side of his neck with a Balisong -

Luta ends up almost completely losing his voice from this, something that doesn't really seem to add up in light of the healing abilities of the other zombie characters, but I'm willing to ascribe it to his vocal cords healing back together wrong or scarring in a way that makes it difficult to produce sound which is a condition that normal humans can get from as much as over-using their voice. Since we saw the wound having formed a scar in a later episode, I think that's as good an explanation as any.

Our biggest example would be Dino who literally gets beheaded -

(and that's one I really don't know how to explain beyond being an example of the extreme durability of zombies. But still, there is no way to make sense of this physiologically. You need lungs to produce sound or to speak.)

But the most obvious example...would still be Blaine himself because we see him get shot, stabbed, impaled through his throat and whatnot:

In Eat A Knievel, he gets shot through the throat and basically shows hardly any physical reaction at all:

And then, just a few episodes later -

They actually put a ...kind of popping sound-effect over this that I interpret as indicating a bone/spinal injury but again, there isn't much of a physical reaction beyond entering zombie-mode - something that didn't happen on either of the other occasion (maybe a reaction to the pin still being stuck inside?)

Anyway, both of these injuries are definitely much more severe than having his throat just cut - which really just relies on the rapid drop in blood pressure and the blood loss to kill you. Both of which don't really matter much for zombies (and, as I said, considering the lack of blood loss in the forest- scene, that probably wasn't much of an issue any more at this point/stage of re-zombification.)

So yeah, assuming all that, let's remember our two (and a half) options for the forest-scene: Blaine knows he's a zombie/He doesn't know/He suspects it.

Either Blaine doesn't know/isn't sure he's a zombie at this point - then this is the point where he definitely would find out. In that scenario, he'd actually think/consider the chance that he might be dying when he gets his throat slit, maybe react to the pain or enter some state of shock.

Considering that we still see a little bit more blood on him in the forest scene as compared to the other occasions, his cardiovascular system might still not have returned to zombie-baseline entirely and have supported his body somewhat. In which case maybe he is experiencing the symptoms of blood loss or rapid drop in blood pressure - but less severely/fatally - which might explain weakness or even unconsciousness. In which case he really would be waking up underground OR while they're filling up the grave.

On the other hand, if he's far enough along into rezombification (and possibly even aware of it) - - -

He could just be faking the whole thing. He might really just be faking the neck-clutching, the unconsciousness. In fact, considering the level of drama he has falling into that grave and his history/future of faking stuff, I wouldn't put this past him.

But this interpretation also adds a whole new level of insanity to what's happening. Now, I don't know how long it really would take to fill up a grave (and I suspect it has a lot to do with ground conditions and what not) but ...I suspect it does take a while, even for two dudes. Let's give it more than half an hour. Especially considering they do a pretty good job with that grave (until Blaine breaks through the ground again, the spot looks perfectly smooth and untouched).

This means, Blaine would not only have been inside his grave, digging his way up for about 12 hours - he was also fully conscious and playing dead while he was getting buried. That would mean he was just lying there while they shovel several hundred kilogrammes of dirt on top of him. Apparently being very optimistic that he will be able to dig his way out (before he goes Romero).

He did manage, I guess. But it's still a gamble.

So that's...just there.

But that also raises the question: If he knows or is beginning to suspect or realise that he's a zombie again - what exactly is stopping him from putting an end to this? I doubt that they kept a gun trained on a dead body that whole time. And with everyone busy with shovelling and he himself being a zombie, that would have been the perfect opportunity to get out of that situation. He could just enter rage mode and maul them. Actually, this was so far my biggest argument against Blaine knowing that he's a zombie or against him being actually conscious while getting buried - and again, that's just all personal speculation.

But I still wondered: Wouldn't it have been more useful to him to just kill Mr Boss there and then rather than fake his own death? In fact, it's just three dudes, he's a zombie, two are probably busy digging. And they're already in the most secluded area that he could ever hope to get Stacey in. There's even a grave ready to throw them into.

Except, then I realised something else -

So at this point, if something happens to Mr Boss, he'd lose his immunity - which is the only thing keeping Clive and Dale from putting into prison for 10 years for his old drug charges. (And I guess he loses access to Peyton which we know he also isn't hyped for). So yeah, that makes Mr Boss more useful for him alive than dead - as long as Boss in turn thinks Blaine's dead.

And on a completely related but also wildly different note:

(and this is where I abandon speculation and interpretation in favour of completely making things up) I talked about how being buried alive for a whole night, desperately trying to dig yourself up for hours would probably be a highly traumatising experience for a person. Like...that's the kind of shit that gives you a lifetime of claustrophobia one might imagine.

But the really interesting thing is, Blaine loves to threaten to do this to other people:

I mean, he really likes doing that - especially with the added threat of burying people alive in them. Or unalive. For all eternity. Now I hear you say 'well, he has a funeral home now, so that's probably convenient to dispose of them that way'.

But let me provide a counter-argument:

Shit's expensive.

He specifically mentions that Mr Boss' casket is mahogany. He has a human-sized freezer in the basement, he could be giving him the same treatment he did Major in season 1 (which was also a confined space he locked him into, mind you). He also has a human-sized incinerator where he can dispose of bodies. And a giant collection of tools to cut into and rearrange bodies with. But no, his favourite torture method is really that: Locking people into small spaces and abandoning them. Even dumping Angus into the well holds up with that.

In fact, when it comes to actually torturing Angus into changing his will in The Whooper - he let's Chief and Candy do that - while he walks away.

Now, with Angus, it's all a lot more direct and intentional - Blaine even spells it out himself in that scene:

It's revenge for ignoring his pleas for help when he was a child. So he's now ignoring his father while Chief and Candy can do whatever they like with him and he's going to ignore it in turn. I mentioned in another post how a lot of Blaine's anger at Angus is actually less about the physical abuse his father put him through - but he seems at least much, if not more, occupied with feelings of betrayal and abandonment due to his father's absences and disregard for him.

And in fact, it makes a lot of sense considering that he was (intentionally or not) abandoned by both his parents - his mother because she withdrew more and more from her husband's abuse and Angus because he's...well, Angus. Not to mention his grandfather being institutionalised which probably also meant losing access to him. Heck, damn kid even lost his dog which was probably the only living being still left who paid attention to him at home.

A lot of the stuff we learn about that Blaine did in his childhood (like stealing his mother's beloved earrings - instead of literally anything else on their fucking estate he could have sold) really resonate as a bid for attention more than anything. And it's pretty much a behaviour that continues into adulthood - from the way he inflicts himself on Liv and Ravi sometimes, the way he keeps bragging and lying to Al Bronson about how popular and happy he is, the way he starts being drawn in by his father actually showing an interest in him in season 4, the way Major manages to get his attention with promises of statues and schools named after him - he just really, really likes being noticed, whether that be in a good or a bad way. - - - so the threat of burying someone alive somewhere for all eternity and no one will ever know about their suffering - actually seems like he's subconsciously drawing on his own experiences of something he experienced as particularly terrifying and torturous as a child: His suffering being ignored.

Now add to that his very specific love of torturing people by forcing them into confined spaces for as long as he feels like it -

(again, I'm all out on the limb of speculation here but I don't look a gift parallel in the mouth.)

So yeah, 12 hours in a hole digging his way up or being forgotten out there and going Romero in the ground.

I don't think that was fun for him.

And then it's never mentioned again because...this is not all that deep, okay??? I'm normal about this.

[kisaragistationattendant]

from the conductor's seat: on hibiki

...never thought i'd end up saying a title like that.

you've all probably been wondering about me, your host. i don't talk about myself much. and in all honesty, i've been wondering about me too.

obviously, i don't know much about myself. because i'm dead, and all. that tends to have an effect on your memory. but there's more.

i have no memory from before about a month ago. january 30th. i know things are supposed to be a certain way. i live on a train in gear station, unova. i have a zorua named insight. i've been here for a long time, my show has been running for at least a few months by now.

but none of it's true.

none of you knew anything about me before january 30th, did you? like i just appeared out of thin air, with a backstory all prepared and good to go.

as if it was designed that way.

written that way.

...what i'm saying is, i'm pretty sure i'm not from here at all. at least, not in the way most people are. but i've had some influence on it.

i'm not the type to say i'm a god or anything. that's someone else i know. but...i'm an outsider, so to speak.

not sure how, or why, or for what reason, but...

...i thought i would have forgotten all this by now. that's normally how it works out, isn't it? people get told information they're not supposed to know, and then it immediately gets totally blanked out of their heads. but...that didn't happen to me. i still remember.

wish i didn't.

...are you happy now? is that what you wanted me to say, lucifer?

[chasseurdeloup]

Unraveled || Andy and Kaden

LOCATION: The cabin TIMING: Early January PARTIES: @declinlalune and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Andy and Kaden finally confront one another about what happened with the hunter who went after Alex. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

Andy paused outside of the door, not quite sure how to approach who was inside. She knew Leticia was asleep in her room, but Kaden was on the other side of this, too. She took a deep breath and pushed it open, looking towards the kitchen where Kaden was seated at the table. “Hey, sorry– I uh, had to go to the bakery pretty early.” With Jonas out of commission, she had made it a point to return back to her job, and though he had assured her they could have closed it down for a bit, she hadn’t wanted to let him down like she had the past few months. “Has Leti woken up at all?” She looked towards her bedroom door before padding into the kitchen after kicking her boots off. It was odd, feeling this way, especially after she and Kaden had grown closer, but they hadn’t exactly addressed the elephant in the room yet. 

When Andy said Leticia was going to be staying in the cabin with them, Kaden had a million questions but wasn’t about to argue. He was glad to have his cousin back even if the tension from before had never been smoothed over. He wasn’t sure what to do about it all, what to say, if she wanted space or if she wanted to ignore things. Kaden had expected to see her later that night months ago, slinking in covered in dirt-covered blood. Only she didn’t show up. The sun rose and Andy wasn’t there. Kaden didn’t know what to do or if he should say anything. And so he said nothing. Unless it had to do with Alex. 

The rhythm of the house had shifted after the incident, after the murder, without Andy around. And it had jolted right back when she returned, though it was still a little off-kilter. Kaden’s mug jerked in his hands, coffee splashing along the sides when he heard the door open and Andy called out. Putian, he wasn’t used to it, not yet. “Don’t have to apologize to me,” he said, wiping the drips on the table with his sleeve. “Uh, not that I know of. If she has, she hasn’t left your room.” He twisted his head to glance toward the door to his cousin’s room. “Is she going to be alright?”

Andy looked down at the coffee that had splattered onto the ground, then her gaze lifted back up to meet Kaden’s. He looked a little out of it, but it wasn’t anything abnormal. She moved further into the kitchen, grabbing her own mug before setting it down onto the counter. At his question, she paused. “I’m not really sure.” She’d been in her jaguar form for three months, had been displaced by a hunter, and was now expected to pick everything back up after being gone– would she be okay? Andy didn’t feel right discussing it. 

“I hope so.” She offered a small, yet hesitant smile to him before filling her own mug with coffee. She considered retreating to the sofa, but instead took a seat across from him. The tension between them hadn’t yet waned, but there was a newfound sense of understanding. Maybe Andy was imagining it. She couldn’t really be sure, not with everything happening. “I told her she can stay here as long as she needs to. I don’t think she can go back home, and if I’m being honest, I don’t think I want her to.” She took a sip of her coffee, letting the bitterness roll over her tongue. 

Kaden didn’t expect his body to tense up when Andy sat across from him. It was brief, but he could still feel it, the uncertainty of everything. He hated feeling like he’d driven her out of her own home she’d worked hard to have with Alex. Sure, it was more complicated than that but it was hard to shake the guilt. It piled up with all the rest he’d collected over the years; a goddamn mountain at this point. 

He exhaled, trying to push the tension out with the air from his lungs. There was no need for this, not this early in the morning at least. Things were normal. They should be normal. He could be normal. “What happened to her?” he asked before taking a sip of his coffee, careful not to send it spilling again. “I mean, if you can tell me. Obviously I know it might…” Honestly, he wasn’t sure what he meant or what he was trying to say. Conversations weren’t his strong suit, sure, but they weren’t usually this hard. “Anyway, makes sense for her to stay here all things considered.”

His question made her stomach sink. Could he handle the truth? Especially after what happened with the ranger in that cabin? Would he assume she’d go after him, end him the way she did the one that went after Alex and Alan? He was right to assume as much, especially because Andy hadn’t been able to get the idea from her mind. 

After a moment, Andy finally said, “a hunter went after her.” She looked up at him, expression neutral despite the anger she felt over the situation. “She shifted to get away, or fight back– I don’t know. And then she spent the last three months as a jaguar.” Her voice was surprisingly steady, and she was grateful for the years of lying and sneaking that’d led her to this moment. “But yeah, I figured this might be the safest place for her. She can’t go back home yet.” Andy wasn’t sure what home would look like to Leticia once she finally went back. Regardless, she knew she’d make the space for Leti no matter what. 

Kaden nodded, eyes pinned to the brown liquid swirling in his mug. Seemed safer to look at the coffee than over at his cousin. Not yet, at least. There was too much unsaid, too much uncertainty. Meanwhile, the coffee was just coffee. Simple. “Of course it was.” He knew better than most how often hunters hunted, how often they killed, how they operated. He was one. Even if he wasn’t functioning quite like them anymore, not like the typical ranger at least, he knew better than to assume others weren’t out there, that they weren’t targeting people he knew. 

The memory of the light fading from that ranger’s eyes as Andy stabbed him to death swirled in the steam from his coffee.

Kaden’s gaze darted back up to meet Andy’s. He didn’t want to search for indication of any anger or vengeance lingering there. So he didn’t. “Three months?” He tried to process how long that had been, all the things he’d done in the past three months, while Leticia had been a jaguar. It was impossible to imagine. “That’s a long damn time. Glad she didn’t get hurt in the meantime.” Well, alright, he didn’t know if she’d been alright at that time. “I mean, assuming that she didn’t. You know.” 

His hand reached back to rub the nap of his neck, trying to calm some of the anxiety before he looked over to his cousin. He didn’t want to go there. But he had to. “You’re not…. I mean, the hunter. Are you going to, uh… look for them?” He wasn’t sure what he wanted the answer to be. If he wanted one at all. 

“We don’t know what she went through yet, so it’s hard to say what.. you know, happened.” Andy wasn’t sure how much of Leticia’s story she’d want spoken, so she refrained from going into further detail– of the scars that were present on her skin, of the wild look in her eyes when Andy had found her on the trail. “It was just lucky I found her.” Because that was the truth, and it seemed that would always be the truth. 

The question that came next was one that Andy expected, and even though she knew it would spring between them like overgrown weeds asking to be ripped out, she still felt a certain guilt at it. “I’m making sure she’s safe right now. If you’re asking, am I going to go and kill them? The answer is no.” Not right now, at least. “I don’t want to put Leti in more danger, so I’m going to do what she asks me to do, and she hasn’t asked for help with that, yet. But I can’t let them come back after her, you understand that, right? If they do, I’m not going to let them hurt her.” She felt iron scrape over her tongue, thick like a sludge that was hard to get rid of. 

“She’s my friend, just like Nicole is, and after… Kaden, I just can’t sit here and do nothing, not when I could do something. I know it’s hard– it’s hard for me, too, but I’m not going to let anyone get hurt, not again, not like Alex, not like Leti. I can’t.” 

The tightness in his chest fell away, but Kaden didn’t feel much better than he had a second ago. He was relieved to hear she didn’t plan on killing anyone, but something still didn’t settle where it was supposed to. He couldn’t put his finger on it, so he tapped it against the side of his mug, instead. 

“I’m not suggesting you do nothing,” he said, voice steady. “I’m just suggesting to not let anyone get hurt again.” He emphasized the word. Anyone. That hunter, he was anyone. He was someone. Maybe a piece of shit someone, but someone nonetheless. Kaden wasn’t any better once. There was nothing about him that was more special than that ranger. The only thing that had changed was his perspective. And it didn’t happen overnight. But he was given the chance. He was given grace. Maybe that grace was given by pure luck more than anything else but that didn’t matter. 

“I just can’t–” His teeth slid against themselves, jaw grinding them into one another. How to find the words? He didn’t know. They didn’t come to him when he met her eyes again. He wasn’t sure any words would ever be right. Might as well try and see what the hell came out. “You killed someone. He’s dead. And it’s not like I think the world was better off with him breathing but… Killing doesn’t stop… this,” he said, throwing his hand out in front of him, gesturing towards whatever nebulous thing he was referring to, as if he could will it to exist physically. As if it could make what he was trying to say any more concrete. “It just doesn’t stop. We can’t–” 

For a second, Kaden swore he saw blonde hair instead of red, saw harsh eyes instead of bright ones. He swore that he saw his sister and not Andy. He turned away, didn’t want to equate them. Ever. Even if the look in her eyes that night reminded him of Keira more than he ever thought was possible.

“You know what they see when they look at us.” He didn’t know if she would follow, if she would know that he was referring to them as shifters and us as hunters; if she had talked this way in years now. “You know they only see monsters. We can’t become that. We can’t start killing, to try and rebalance whatever fucked up shit. Even if it’s other hunters. Taking a life is still taking a life. We can’t just decide who lives and dies. We can’t. You can’t. You’re better than that. You’re so much better than this shit, than this violence. Than–” Than me. He looked back at her, no lingering visions of Keira left. Only Andy. His cousin who had run away from it all and saw the flaws in the system before he could even spot a crack. His cousin who had to grow up too soon. His cousin who deserved a better fucking hand dealt to her. Much better than what she got. 

She thought that maybe a part of Kaden had begun to understand what she meant when she said she needed to protect Leti, especially because he’d lost somebody important to him by the hand of his own sister, but it was obvious he was still stuck on the fact that she’d taken a life. Andy felt her stomach roll, felt the iron peel over through to the back of her mouth, swore it was filling every part of her. 

“I would rather nobody else get hurt. I’m not…” Hunting people for sport– something that was clearly being done to Leticia, had been done to Alex. Could Kaden not see the implications of what all of that meant? She’d sat with the fact that she had taken somebody’s life, and she was okay with it. It was clear that Kaden still wasn’t. 

“I did what I needed to do to protect my sister.” It was said simply, voice hardened by the implications that she would kill just anyone. “I think it was pretty clear that he wasn’t going to just stop, and I couldn’t take the chance that he…” She shook her head, “Kaden, I had to do that. There was no other way.” There could have been, and she had tried to give him an out, but it was obvious that the ranger had no intentions of stopping. “You don’t think I recognize that? You think I wanted to kill him?” Andy let out a harsh laugh, smoothing her hands over her face, rubbing away the exhaustion. “I only did it so that Alex wouldn’t die, so that we wouldn’t die. He would have killed us, too. I made a choice. A hard one, but one all the same, and I don’t regret it.” As she spoke, she maintained eye contact with him, “I know violence is still violence, despite who it’s being done to, but I couldn’t take the chance that anything else could happen to them.” 

Kaden knew that what she was saying was the truth of the matter, that someone was going to end up dead in that scenario. He knew how their world worked. He knew that the odds were that there would only be more bodies added to the count if Andy hadn’t acted when she did. Some part of him deep down knew that, knew he couldn’t argue.

But there was still something nagging at him, nipping at his heels and irritating him about it all. It still didn’t sit right. He couldn’t flatten it out, smooth it over and accept everything she said as much as he wanted to. He met her eye contact, remained silent a she soaked in her words. He believed that she wanted to avoid violence, that she wasn’t making this a habit. He had to. 

So then what was it causing the creased that he couldn’t iron flat? If that wasn’t it?

Kaden let the silence linger for a moment as he tried to find the words to explain his thoughts. He glanced down at his fingers as he drummed them against the mug’s handle. “Look,” he said, eyes meeting hers again, “I get that this wasn't– That maybe you had to–” No, not the words he wanted. When he found the ones he did, he wasn’t sure he wanted to speak them into existence.

“That could have been me.” It felt like pulling the pin out of a grenade, just a second away from launching it and watching the explosion. “That hunter. The one who…” He paused and took a deep breath to try and stay on track. “It wasn’t that long ago that I hunted. Really hunted. And I–” He pinched his eyes shut as if it could erase how many families he’d surely broken in the past. The ones he didn’t think about in the moment. The ones just like Andy and Alex and even himself. He wasn’t any better than that piece of shit lying there on the floor of that farmhouse. “If he had to die, if he– A few years ago and that would have been me.” Kaden was afraid to learn what was waiting for him when he looked back at her and made eye contact, but he dared to look all the same. 

If she really wanted to, Andy felt as though she could fall into the silence. It would be easy to turn her back on this conversation and leave, but she couldn’t do that. That wasn’t like her, and it wouldn’t do her’s and Kaden’s relationship any good if she decided to disappear when hard questions were raised. 

He began to speak, words contorted by what he actually wanted to say. Andy watched her cousin carefully, searching for something that would tell her why he couldn’t seem to understand her plight. 

And then there it was, the admission of guilt, though dredged up from a history of what they were, of who they were. Andy couldn’t identify with Kaden on this, for she’d rejected hunting in its entirety, but a part of her could, still– could put herself in his shoes, could see through his eyes. She knew what it had meant when she killed the hunter, and it was clear what it meant to him; that it could’ve been the knife put through his chest had it been another time, another place– another wolf. 

As she let his words truly sink in, she thought of what to say. It took her a few seconds, maybe a minute, before her voice cut through the silence that warped around them like an uncomfortable elastic. 

“But that was years ago. You are who you are now, and you already feel like shit for it, why are you going to make yourself feel worse?” True, she didn’t agree with her cousin’s past, but wasn’t the point that he’d outgrown it? “Do I love that you used to… do that? No, but that was how we were raised.” She flexed her fingers through the air, looking down at them. “But the point is, we outran it. We got out, Kaden. That’s what we have to focus on now. Not how that could’ve been us, because that was my dad, that was my mom.” That was your father. In a different manner of speaking, but wasn’t it the same? Defense, no matter what it looked like– for an unjust cruelty spun out by purpose among other bullshit. 

God, Andy hated it all. 

“You’re better than that ranger who hurt Alex, Kaden. Maybe not… then, but you are now. You have to believe that, or this’ll eat you alive.” 

It was hard to absorb her words, to let it replace the stains of shame seeped deep in himself. “I don’t feel better. Not really.” He kept his eyes on the wood grain of the table, following the lines as if he was going to find an answer somewhere in the patterns there. “All that shit still… I mean, I can’t take it back. For all I know, my body count is higher than his ever was.” Kaden felt like everything he said left him more raw and vulnerable. He trusted Andy wouldn’t rub salt in the wounds he laid bare and open but that didn’t make any of this less painful.  

“I only outran it because I got the chance to. I had a chance to–” To what? Realize how much he’d fucked up? See the horrors up close and personal? Start to care once it affected him, affected someone he loved? “I don’t know how to do this.”

After a beat, Kaden realized he wasn’t making any damn sense and he dared to look back at Andy’s kind eyes. Too kind, too understanding somehow. “I mean, I got a chance to be better. And I don’t know if he–” The words choked him again. “You might not have been wrong.” He sighed at himself. Why the fuck couldn’t he just admit that she might have made the right call? No, he knew why. “How do we know when someone’s had a chance or not? How do we make that fucking call? When? Why the fuck did I get lucky and didn’t cross the wrong person at the wrong time? I was just like him. I was the same. I did the same thing.” The thoughts just kept repeating, swirling and Kaden was once again imagining himself in the place of that hunter, Andy pinning him down and ready to tear him apart. 

You’re better.

He tried to hold onto those words while he was in the other ranger’s shoes. Even at his worst, would have had persisted the way this man had? Played games with the shifters in town? He’d be lying if he said he’d never have come close. But when he thought about it, he would only do that while he was with other hunters, when he was pressured. Usually he just did his job and didn’t get into shit like that guy had. If family had stood up for someone like they did, would he have held his ground? Or ran? 

Putain. 

Kaden put his head in his hands, trying to make it all make sense as he dragged his palms across his face. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not even sure who the apology was for or what anymore. Everything, maybe. 

Andy knew that it would take a lot more than their current conversation to run Kaden through the motions of forgiving himself. It would take a lot longer than a few months of separating himself from his mom’s expectations. At his comment about his body count possibly being higher, Andy shrugged. “We don’t know that. You can’t theorize that.” It’d run him in circles— both of them in circles. Andy had done what she’d done because she needed to, because she saw no other way out from beneath the ranger’s thumb, especially for Alex’s sake. It needed to be done, and she’d done it. There was no other way of looking at it. 

“You don’t know if he would’ve had the chance to become a better person?” Andy had considered that— had wondered if maybe a little more probing to let go of his current hunt would’ve put the ranger in a different direction, but the look in his eyes— it was a violent thing that she knew he would never let go of. She didn’t see that in Kaden, not by a long shot. “I can’t answer that for you, Kaden. There isn’t some… higher power, deciding it. This is life, this is what happens.” She had done enough groveling over the years to a higher power that didn’t exist to fully turn her back on it. “He knew who I was, and he decided that he would come for the people I cared about regardless. Somewhere, deep down, he must have known that…” Andy took a deep breath, “that would happen— that I’d come for him.” Maybe it had been a ploy to end his time on this earth, or maybe he really thought he would have won. 

Kaden looked as though he were on the brink of a breakdown, and Andy did feel for him. She felt a certain kind of guilt she hadn’t felt since leaving her parents in those woods— as if she were leaving something behind by admitting she wasn’t sorry for killing the ranger. But her sister, her friends— they mattered more than her feelings here, and they were safe for the time being, up until some other monster decided to put an end to them. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Kaden.” She’d been angry before, had watched him turn his back and had regretted the moment she asked for his help, but looking at him now, she understood what it had taken from him— to see her drive the knife into the heart of somebody who was like him. “I should’ve been more understanding… I shouldn’t have gotten angry, either.” 

All Kaden could do was try to hold onto the words she gave him, try to make sure they didn’t slip away. If nothing else, he had to trust her. Hell, he did trust her. At the end of the day, he couldn’t imagine not trusting Andy. So he was going to have to trust her now. Trust that what she was saying about the ranger was true, that she’d weighed her options and came to the best conclusion she could. He’d assumed her decision to take the other hunter’s life was bred from emotion, from impulse, from years and years of training and indoctrination finally bubbling up to the surface. Maybe that was part of it, sure, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t given it any thought.

It wasn’t a reaction as much as a decision. And he had to trust her and trust that she made the right decision. Or how else were they supposed to carry on? 

“I believe you,” he said, softly but sincerely. The small part of him nagging his mind with “what-ifs” hadn’t been entirely silenced, he wasn’t sure it ever would be, but he did believe her and her assessment of the situation.

On the other hand, he wasn’t sure if he believed her when she said he had nothing to apologize for. He sighed and looked back at her with a forlorn smile. “Not sure that’s true, though.” He may not have owed her any apologies but that didn’t mean he had nothing to apologize for, not according to his books. “I could say the same,” he said with a shrug. It wasn’t like he’d reached out to her sooner, tried to mend the bridge first or anything. Then again, neither of them grew up with any exemplary role models for good communication. It was hard to blame themselves too much at the end of the day. 

“Look, you let me crash here with barely any questions. You trusted me. I should have trusted you.” He paused and made sure he had eye contact with her before continuing. “I do trust you. And I trust you made the best decision that was available.” He threw back the last of his coffee and stood to stretch, letting the weight of the recent conversation fall from his shoulders. “Now if it’s alright with you, I planned on making crepes for Alex so make your demands now if you want anything specific.” He flashed her a smile and paused before he got to work. “Glad you’re back, by the way.”

[logan-sanders-enthusiast]

electing strange perfections (in any stranger i choose) - Chapter 1/?

next | masterlist | AO3

Word count: 5117

Summary:

The fae world and the human world had always been mostly separate. Fae crossed between the two realms while humans remained oblivious to their very existence, and that was how it had been for centuries. But when the lines start to bleed, and humans start catching on, who's going to step in and put an end to the conflict that follows? Human or fae, fate does tend to fall into strange hands (aka, logince fae au)

((AN: this is like 60% based on an rp i did a while back on tumblr. I definitely strayed from the original storyline a lot but the idea and the characters are like… pretty similar i think. this is also incredibly self indulgent bc im a sucker for logince. enjoy :] ))

~ * ~

Humans liked to consider themselves to be intelligent. Masters of the world they lived in. They dug up coal to power their great machines, and cut down trees to put up the scaffolding for towering buildings. They sacrificed their share of the Earth for the wonders they saw fit to create, and they turned to each other with unsatisfied smiles, as if to say: ‘Look at that. Look at the greatness we have achieved’.

They never quite finished with their powerful innovations, there was always something more. Some turned to science, and quickly became bored, many claiming that we had already mastered the Earth, there was nothing more to learn. Yes, humans quickly convinced themselves that they understood most everything, and whatever they didn’t understand, well, they at least could pinpoint its existence, could say with confidence that it was infact real. Although this mindset has led to great discoveries, it is the hinderance of the most vital secrets that the Earth holds close to her chest.

Then again, perhaps it’s not always the important people making the important discoveries. After all, sometimes fate does tend to fall into strange hands.

~ * ~

Logan awoke just like he did every other morning, the smell of coffee drifting up the stairs, the sound of his mothers poorly singing along to some ABBA song, the summery morning air drifting in from his window that he always forgot to close, his homework still strewn across his desk from his late night study session. All was normal because that day was a normal day.

He got out of bed as usual, ten minutes before his alarm was supposed to go off, as he always tended to wake up earlier than he needed to. He blamed it on his circadian rhythm, and would usually bore his mothers to death with some scientific spiel whenever the topic came up, but if asked if he would set his alarm back ten minutes to compensate for it, he refused for whatever reason.

He put on his school clothes that he had laid out the night before, black jeans, a blue button up and a black tie, similar to what he always wore, formal and neat. He heard that type of clothing would get kids bullied in some schools, but he kept his head down, was quiet and polite, and his peers were always kind to him, even if he never found himself with many friends.

He brushed his hair, cleaned his teeth, made himself seem presentable, turned off his alarm once it went off, picked up his already packed schoolbag and slung it over his shoulder, before he went downstairs, everything going the way it always did. Today would be a normal day, why wouldn’t it be?

Logan’s feet had barely left the bottom step when one of his mothers swept into the hallway from around the corner. April was her name, named after the month she was born in. She often joked about her parents lack of creativity, and her surprise that her younger brother wasn’t named January. She was a shorter woman, with deep golden tan skin and kind eyes shining from behind a pair of round framed glasses. Her hair was long, dark, and curly, and her face was adorned with deep smile lines to compliment her dimples. Logan knew his mom had always been a beautiful woman, though he didn’t need to say it, his other mother, Natalie (named after nothing in particular, her parents simply adored the name), did her best to remind her wife every morning.

April walked to up to him with a skip in her step, going on her tip toes to run a hand through his hair “Oh Logan, look at you, always so professional looking. It’s high school, not a business conference you know?” she smiled fondly as she stepped back to admire her son.

“Mama, please, I have a reputation to uphold,” Logan replied, flattening down his hair. It was insatiably curly, and he always did his best to keep in neat. Just another trait he shared with his mama. People had always pointed out how similar he and April looked, ever since he was a child. April always tried to convince him that he had Natalie’s eyes, but he knew now that he was older that made no sense. Natalie, with her pale skin and pin straight brown hair, played about as much of a part in his genetic makeup as the anonymous man from the sperm bank played in his upbringing.

Logan’s almond skin, his poor eyesight, his curly, dark hair, all were traits he shared with his mama. He figured that the anonymous donor must have been tall though, as he was almost a head taller than both of his mothers, with a bit more room for maybe one more growth spurt.

“Oh please, all of your teachers already adore you” April hummed and tugged on Logan’s tie gently “At least lose the tie, it’s going to be hot today. Come on, breakfast is ready, we might even let you have two cups of coffee this morning if you promise to not stay up so late studying tonight” she said with a grin, walking out into the kitchen.

Logan followed behind her, the sounds of a familiar song filling his ears as he stepped into the kitchen alongside his mother.

‘-my destiny in quite a similar way. The history book on the shelf, is always repeating itself…’

“Waterloo? You couldn’t have picked a better song?” Logan teased lightly, immediately going to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Natalie turned her head around from where she was sitting at the kitchen bench “Excuse you young man, Waterloo is and always has been a hit” she argued back with a light-hearted tone, her voice still a bit rough from sleep..

“No, it was a hit in 1974. The Winner Takes it All is objectively a much better song, if we’re talking ABBA” Logan pointed out. Their musical debates were common in the mornings. It was all routine, his mothers put on a song, Logan came downstairs and critiqued it over coffee, rinse and repeat.

“Sorry honey but I have to agree with Nat on this one” April chimed in, sitting next to her wife “I mean, you can’t win Eurovision with a mediocre song. Besides, The Winner Takes it All doesn’t fit the morning vibe”

Natalie nodded to what her wife said, a tiny strand of her hair falling out of the tight bun it was held in “Very true. And really if we’re going to talk better ABBA songs, I’d consider Hole in Your Soul over any other song any day”

April put a hand over her heart in a dramatic fashion “Whoa hold on a second, you’re taking Hole in Your Soul over The Visitors? Now that’s crazy...”

‘-couldn't escape if I wanted to, Waterloo, knowing my fate is to be with you…’

Logan smiled a little to himself as his mothers continued to playfully bicker over ABBA. He took a sip of his coffee, drinking slowly so he didn’t burn his tongue.

His mothers had known each other for years, but for all Logan knew they could have known each other forever. He had never met two people who were closer than they were. They met in their sophomore year of high school, and Natalie proposed when they were both twenty-two, back in 1999. Of course, they couldn’t actually get married until about sixteen years later, for obvious reasons. Logan was ten at the time, he still remembered the wedding, and how much his mothers had smiled all throughout the ceremony. He was sure if he dug around in his closet a bit he could find the little black suit and tie he had worn, all dusty and stiff with seven years of no wear.

Logan eventually finished his coffee and put it down on the bench, filling his cup up again, slowly and carefully so as to not spill a single drop. Natalie looked over at Logan, not mentioning the second cup as it was merely routine for all of them by now “What’s on the agenda today Lo?”

Logan hummed, taking a sip of his coffee before speaking “I have a science project to wrap up, and then I might stay late to finish up my English essay in the common area”

“Why don’t you just come home and finish it?” April asked, tilting her head to the side.

“If I come straight home you’ll spend all the time I spend on work trying to pull me away from it, and I can’t risk that sort of distraction,” Logan answered.

April scoffed “Oh please, it’s probably not due for another month, you’re far too organised”

Natalie nodded in agreement “Yeah, you certainly didn’t inherit either of your mothers’ tendencies for procrastination”

“Well inherited procrastination or not, I’ll stay late today. What time should I be home by?” Logan asked, grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl next to him on the counter, intending on taking it for breakfast even though he knew the chances of being able to leave the house without first eating a proper meal were slim.

“Hmm how about you be home by… now. And ditch school. And we can do something fun as a family and have a together day” April suggested, tilting her head to the side with a crooked smile.

“As tempting as that sounds-“ Logan began in a way that sounded like he wasn’t tempted in the slightest “I have a perfect attendance to uphold, and besides, I promised Virgil that I’d meet up with him to help proof read a paper for him”

Natalie sighed heavily, her shoulders slouching in an melodramatic disappointment “Oh dearest Logan, always working, never enough time for his boring old mothers”

Logan rolled his eyes in amusement, tucking the apple away in his bag to save for his walk to school “Look, tomorrow’s Saturday, we’re all free all day so we can have a together day then; we’ll do whatever you want. How does that sound?”

“I thought you had to tutor on Saturdays?” April pointed out.

“The student cancelled, they came down with the flu, or they were out of town, I can’t really remember. Either way, I don’t have to tutor them tomorrow so I’m free” Logan explained.

Both April and Natalie smiled “Well that’s wonderful! Yes, tomorrow it is, and you better not cancel otherwise you will never live it down” April warned.

“Yes mama, I know” Logan said with a fond smile, about to turn to head out the door when Natalie picked up a brown paper bag off of the counter and tossed it to him.

“Breakfast” She said simply “Eat it or I’ll come down to the school and tell them you have a doctors appointment and-“ she gasped dramatically for effect” “-force you to skip school!”

“Yes ma” Logan said, his tone exasperated but downplayed by his smile. “Love you Lo, have a good day” “You too ma” “And me?” “Yes mama, and you” “Bye Lo, have fun at school, do not work too hard today” “Goodbye”

And with that, Logan was out the door. The walk to school wasn’t a long one, and though Logan was perfectly capable of just driving to school, he enjoyed going by foot. It was good exercise and he lived on the brink between suburb and nature, so it was nice to hear the birds and see the green of his surroundings in the mornings, it helped to wake him up.

His actual school was a lot less lively than its surroundings, but that didn’t bother Logan all that much. He enjoyed school, which some people found strange, but didn’t everyone enjoy the things that they excelled at?

He walked into first period with his arms heavy with books and his bag heavy with homework, either to be handed in early or to bring up questions about some aspect of the assignment. First period English went smoothly, he handed in his annotation homework, made good progress on analysing the text they were studying (which they weren’t due to start analysing until next week, Logan just liked to get a head start), and engaged in a friendly debate about the textual meaning behind the piece they were studying, which always brought his mood up, especially considering he always had a tendency to win said debates.

Second period algebra was just as simple for him, writing examples on the board, getting extension work halfway through the class once he had finished all the other material, making notes and areas for improvement. He studied in the library during his morning break and then went straight back in for a physics class in third period.

Everything went pretty well, until fourth period biology, where he hit a small bump in the road.

The first half of the period went well, with Logan handing in one of his projects a week early, as he usually did. Although just as he was packing up to leave, his biology teacher called him up to the front, his project folder open on his desk, “All of your work is exceptional, as always Mr Sanders, however you seem to have missed a small part of the assignment”

Logan was immensely proud of his project. They had been tasked with identifying one common plant that grew in the area, and giving a detailed description on its properties, environment, cellular makeup, evolution over its existence and the like. Logan had taken great care to include every detail, so what could he possibly have missed? “Oh, my apologies sir, I wasn’t aware. I had checked and double checked my project against the instruction guide last night and found no issue, so I am curious, what did I miss?”

Logan’s biology teacher shook his head “It’s nothing major, and I won’t mark you down for it if you don’t want to go and add that now that you’ve already submitted. I’ll admit, it’s only a small detail. In the instruction guide, at the top of the page, students were asked to include either a picture or a physical example of the plant that they had selected” his teacher said, pulling out the guide and sliding it over to Logan, pointing out the part that had instructed that, “It’s easy to miss, don’t stress about it. Now, I can see that you have chosen stinging nettle, so of course I don’t expect you to go out and pick any-“

“I’ll do it” Logan said abruptly, “My apologies sir, I didn’t know that I had missed something so simple. If it’s alright, I will unsubmit my project now and I’ll bring the completed version with me tomorrow”

“Oh, you really don’t have to-“

“Nonsense, I wouldn’t want my work to be of a substandard quality. I assure you, I will have it done properly by tomorrow. Good afternoon sir” Logan said, quick to pick up his project off of the teachers desk and whisk himself out of the classroom without another word. How on Earth could he have missed something so small? He supposed he would have to put off finishing his essay that the afternoon, opting instead to take the walk into the woods at the edge of town to collect some nettle. It was fine, the essay wasn’t due for another month anyways.

When Logan sat down in the library at lunch, he was thoroughly disturbed. He still could hardly believe that he had missed something so simple, so easy. Completing the task would have taken him five minutes, and not only had he not done it, he had completely skimmed over actually doing it, he didn’t even forget, he just didn’t process the instruction.

Logan barely noticed someone sliding into the seat next to him until they cleared their throat to get his attention.

“You good there bud?” Virgil asked, seeing Logan stare off into the distance with that look in his eyes that he only got when he was overthinking something sparking a bit of concern in the older boy. “Hm? Oh, hello Virgil, yes I am perfectly adequate” Logan replied with a small nod towards his friend.

Virgil and Logan had known each other for twelve years. Twelve long years of what started out as enduring each other’s presence, to accepting it, to enjoying it. They had met in kindergarten when they were put in the same class, and forced to sit together after an argument broke out about who owned which pencil when their stationary got mixed up during arts and craft. It was some tactic to get them to get along, and for a while it didn’t work; arguments broke out every day, and many pencils were snapped in half in the process, but by the end of the year, they had begrudgingly accepted each other as acquaintances rather than enemies, and now, years down the line, that bond had only strengthened.

Virgil and Logan wouldn’t quite consider the other the only friend they had, but they would be stupid to not consider each other best friends.

Which was why Logan’s inner turmoil was more than obvious to Virgil.

“Come on, spit it out, what happened” Virgil said, dropping his bag on the floor next to him with a thud.

“It’s nothing, no time for distractions, we need to proofread your paper” Logan said, trying to grab the essay out of Virgil’s hands, not before Virgil had lifted it up and out of Logan’s reach.

“Nuh uh, nice try. You’re not getting this until you tell me what’s wrong” Virgil said, waving the paper around above Logan’s head, making the shorter boy frown at the thought of the creases the taller would be making to the paper. Much to Logan’s dismay, Virgil had always been freakishly tall, standing at almost 6’4”, towering above Logan who stood at about 5’10”. They had been the same height for most of their earlier school years, but as soon as Virgil hit the seventh grade he shot up, and ever since then he had often used his height to his advantage, and seemed to take much enjoyment out of holding things just out of Logan’s reach.

Logan sighed in annoyance and conceded “Fine. I handed in my biology project early and my professor informed me at the end of class that I had missed an instruction so it was unfinished”

Virgil blinked “And?”

“That’s all” Logan replied simply.

“That’s all?” Virgil echoed, biting back a laugh “Lo that’s no big deal, don’t worry about it. You handed it in early too so it doesn’t matter. You can just unsubmit it and bring the completed one in when it’s ready”

“I know I know, it’s just… I never miss details like that. It was such a small thing, a physical example or a picture, that was all I was missing, and the instruction was right at the top of the page and I just… missed it” Logan said, his tone suggesting that it was some crucial thing that he had skimmed over and not just a small part of his project.

“Y’know what I think Lo? I think you’re overworking yourself” Virgil said, resting his chin in his hands, keeping his paper pinned under his elbow on the table so Logan still couldn’t get to it “You need to take a break, step away from schoolwork for a bit. You’re already like months ahead of everyone else on classwork. It couldn’t hurt to stop for just a little while, clear your head. I mean, no one in a right state of mind freaks out about missing a simple part of their project, do they?”

Logan sighed heavily, wanting to argue but figuring that it was no use, Virgil had always been the stubborn type, and in some way he was correct. “I suppose you’re right, maybe I am in over my head. I’ll try to step back a bit” Virgil smiled, pleased “Good, you need it specs”

“If you say so. Now, you wanted me to proofread your paper?” Virgil raised an eyebrow amusedly and shook his head, to which Logan huffed in annoyance “Certainly your work doesn’t count as my work, I’m simply going to proofread it-“

“Nope, you’re taking a well-deserved break and that includes all forms of work including proofreading. It’s in the fine print of our agreement, and I would recommend you read it but I’m sure that counts as some kind of proofreading so no, don’t do that” Virgil said, snickering at his own joke.

Logan just rolled his eyes “You are incorrigible”

“You’re very welcome L”

The two boys sat like that for a while, engaging in a bit of friendly back and forth. It was all familiar for them, after all it wasn’t the first time that Virgil had insisted Logan took a break. He always found some way to overwork himself, through school, personal projects, or anything else that required his attention for extend periods of time. Of course, it’s not as bad as it used to be. Virgil remembered the times when he wouldn’t see Logan at all outside of classrooms for days, or sometimes weeks on end, always too busy studying at the library or finishing the mountains of extra work he had asked for in each subject. He remembered how irritable he always was, how tired he always looked. Over time, things changed, and it was better now, but it always felt like Logan was at risk of falling back into that spiral, constantly teetering on the edge. Virgil wished that Logan could eventually find some way to just step back from reality, even just for a little while, not get so caught up in school.

By the time they were supposed to head off to their last class of the day, both of the boys were in good spirits. A lively conversation mixed with a casual debate usually did wonders to lift their moods, so they both parted ways to their classes with smiles and promises to organise plans together soon.

Logan was feeling better, that little weight on his shoulders felt smaller, everything felt more manageable now that he was no longer so worked up over something so unimportant. He walked into his ancient history class with a lighter feeling in his chest, ready to get the class done and be finished for the day. He sat down in his usual seat, pulled out his notebook and pens, and started taking notes as the class began, writing down the work and answering any questions that the teacher asked. It was all normal and completely usual once more.

Logan often had a habit of getting too into his own head about minor things, especially when it came to matters of academics, something that he took very seriously. What had started out with him doing accelerated math and advanced reading in elementary school had led to him being the top of his year, winning awards for essays he submitted to competitions, and having several, rather persistent college scouts trying to persuade him into submitting an application. Even though he was at a point in his senior year where potential colleges was something that students were beginning to think over, Logan had already planned out his course and top picks for colleges, all of which he was certain he would be accepted to, and his mind was rarely changed. He liked to have things planned out in advance after all. At the very least, he was modest about it. In fact, his mothers seemed to brag more than he did about his numerous achievements. He would always claimed to be embarrassed whenever they started to boast about him, but in reality, he didn’t mind too much; it was nice to be recognized. The end of class rolled around quicker than Logan had expected, the teacher signing off with giving them a hefty homework task to complete over the weekend, leaving students groaning and mumbling in discontent while Logan just jotted it down in his notebook.

After placing his things neatly in his bag and staying back to ask his teacher one question about the homework, he left the classroom, heading towards the school gates. On a normal day he would walk home with Virgil, since he only lived about a five minute walk away from his home, however Virgil was not waiting for him at the gate today. He had messaged him a little while ago, letting him know that he was going to stay back in the library to proofread his paper that they didn’t get to read at lunch with some of the student volunteers there. Logan was very tempted to join him in the library, but he knew Virgil wouldn’t let him stay and would bring up the whole ‘overworking’ thing again, so he kept on walking, past the school gates, onto the street.

At about fifteen minutes into his walk, the lack of the usual conversation he would be having with Virgil began making things a little dull, leaving the occupation of his mind to his thoughts. At any one time Logan was thinking of many things, and this was no exception. He was thinking about how best to start his ancient history homework, if his mothers had brainstormed any weekend plans, what his grade would be on their recent math quiz, a rather tricky chemistry question that had puzzled him for quite some time, and unsurprisingly, his biology project. Even though he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t help that prickly feeling under his skin when he thought about it being handed in incomplete.

Logan stopped in the middle of the path and looked around. A decent distance from him, yet well within his line of sight, he could see the tree line that separated the suburbs from the woods that all the infrastructure was built around. Logan had heard about developers fighting over the woods for a long time, wanting to build apartment blocks, but the land was protected by the government under an environmental act; Logan was pretty sure it was a national park, or at least something of the sort.

He stayed looking at the tree line for a few moment, hesitating on a decision. He knew that Virgil warned him against worrying over the project too much but surely it couldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t take long to find a sample anyways, stinging nettle was rather common around these parts, and taking a short detour was surely better than leaving his biology project unfinished. Without another thought, Logan diverted from the sidewalk and started heading towards the woods. It was a short walk, mostly downhill, so it didn’t take long, and once he passed the tree line, the shade provided by the canopy was a welcome protection from the warm afternoon sun.

The air was cool and damp from the recent summer rains, and the leaf litter crunched softly under his feet as he walked further in, his path illuminated by the few rays of afternoon sun that snuck in through the canopy. Logan took a short moment just to look around and appreciate it all. He had always had a soft spot for nature, ever since he was a small child. His mothers were obsessed with showing him environment documentaries and watching how excited he would get over the pretty plants and cool fauna. Eventually, as he got older, that excitement turned into a genuine passion and curiosity. The natural world was certainly considered to be one of his personal interests.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a sudden strange feeling that burrowed it’s way into his chest. He didn’t know where it had come from or what exactly the feeling was, all he knew was that suddenly, his body felt a little lighter, and he felt the sudden urge to keep walking forward. For a moment he thought it was like he was being beckoned, but that was an illogical thought, it was just some strange instinct. All thoughts of the strange feeling were forgotten when he finally stumbled upon what he had been looking for; a patch of stinging nettle, well he supposed it could hardly be considered a ‘patch’, as it was arranged in a rather strange manner, growing in a perfectly neat circle on the ground in front of him, with little white flowers blossoming below each leaf. In the middle of the circle sat a smooth stone, with little tufts of moss growing off it. Logan admired it for a few moments, almost like he couldn’t quite take his eyes off of it. The feeling in his chest ached softly, he ignored it.

He thought it was strange, for the nettle to be growing in such a perfect circle like it was. Perhaps someone had come along and planted it like this, or maybe it was some wonderful coincidence. He wasn’t entirely sure, but for some reason it captivated him.

After a minute or two he caught himself getting distracted by his thoughts and snapped himself out of it. He knew collecting a sample of this stuff would be tricky, he didn’t want to get stung, and he didn’t really have the right equipment for the job. He considered turning back and waiting for another day to return when he had something safer to carry the plant with, but quickly dismissed that thought, he was here now, he might as well get it done. Besides, he had told his teacher that it would be completed by tomorrow, and he intended to live up to that claim.

Crouching down, Logan put his hand in the hem at the bottom of his shirt and used it to safely pick a piece of nettle, tearing off a few leaves near the bottom so he could let go of his shirt and hold it by the stem. He observed the piece he had taken, it was adequate, but the leaves were small and the flowers were a little wilted, not the most pristine specimen. With a slight frown, Logan looked back at the circle, and a stem of nettle across from him on the other side of the circle caught his eye; large green leaves, a tall stem, numerous little white flowers, it would do perfectly.

The young man gingerly stepped into the circle, careful not to tread on any of the other bits of nettle, and crouched down inside of it, reaching out to pick the nettle from the base of the stem to avoid getting stung. He smiled a bit, admiring it once it was in his hand as he felt that strange feeling in his chest soar. It would work perfectly, he was sure to get a good mark on his biology project, now that everything was accounted for.

Logan had time for only one more thought, that being that he was suddenly feeling a bit lightheaded, before everything suddenly went dark.

[weerd1]

ENT Rewatch Starlog, 14 January, 2024: Episode 3.02 “Anomaly”

A series of spatial anomalies begin to wreak havoc on Enterprise, causing a warp shutdown and dropping them into normal space.

Sensors pick up a ship and Arhcer leads a MACO team over to search it, finding the aliens’ life-support failed sometime after a boarding killed many of their crew. Soon, another ship appears, and raids Enterprise, killing a member of the crew, and pirating a number of important provisions, to include the anti-matter stores needed for the engines. One of the aliens is captured however, and Phlox recognizes the species- they are NOT from the Delphic Expanse, but rather closer to known space. 

While T’Pol figures out that the derelict ship had discovered how to track the crafty pirates, Archer questions the prisoner. Indeed, they were just merchants, but once they entered the Expanse, they could not get back out and have become pirates to survive. The alien warns Archer that his morals will be a detriment. he also mentions that Enterprise would need to line its hull with “Trellium-D”—the ore mined by the outpost in the previous episode—to protect them from the space anomalies.  

Trip has not been back to visit T’Pol regarding neuro-pressure and is again not sleeping. Phlox offers an alternative- leaches whose secretions would help him sleep. Trip promises to see the first officer again for therapy.

They track the ship to what would appear to be empty space, but when they try to follow the path they pass through a distortion field that turns out to be an enormous cloaking field. Inside is a sphere 19-kilometers in diameter.

They manage to force a shuttlepod inside, and find that regardless of the 1000-year-old sphere’s origin, the pirates are storing their booty there.  Enterprise gets back most of its needed supplies but also realizes the pirate have raided a Xindi vessel, and may have more knowledge of the race. When the prisoner is not forthcoming, and continues to say Archer does not have the cruelty necessary to do what he must, Archer takes him to the airlock and begins to vent the air. The prisoner relents, and provides the codes necessary to access the pirate ship’s computer, where any Xindi database would be stored. When the pirates return to their cache, Enterprise attacks and in the course of the battle Hoshi manages to download the Xindi database. 

Archer returns the pirate prisoner to his crew, with the pirate remarking that once again Archer’s morals are in place and mercy will not serve them in the Expanse. Archer begins to search the Xindi database.

A bit of disclosure here: During the war on terror the US took on after the September 11th attacks, I served in the US Army as an interrogator, so the moral discussion here about what is justified to do to a detainee hits pretty close to home. I hare seeing Archer start down the road he does, but it is an important discussion—and a very Star Trek moral examination—that I can say our country very much needed at the time (and probably still). There is no moral justification for torture, period, and much as we all need to apparently be reminded of that, the crew of the NX-01 are faced with the question allegorically in a season written and filmed while we were actively in conflict in two countries after our own Xindi attack.  

At the time, I was worried that perhaps the writers were going to use this platform to demonstrate torture WAS justified.  I was gratified as the season played out and Archer and crew (though they still have missteps ahead) come to the morally correct realization. 

There’s a “Starship Troopers” style gearing up scene with all genders getting into uniforms in one locker room to beam over to the ship. Points to the director for having Archer as the only one shirtless this episode and (mostly) avoiding the cringy sexy-cam angles when he’s talking to the various MACOs, primarily to Corporal McKenzie played by Julia Rose. McKenzie will be mentioned in at least two more episodes, but this episode is the only time she appears onscreen. 

This is also the first time we get the hint that trellium-d will be what protects them from strange spatial occurrences. Sets up for a longer T’Pol arc we’ll start to see play out.  The mystery of the spheres is also introduced, with only the slightest indication they might be connected to the  anomalies plaguing the Delphic Expanse. The season is playing the long-game here, and honestly, doing it pretty well.  Interesting to go back now and watch when shows had 24 episodes a season, and the way they could pace themselves, instead of a 10-episode focused arc, that can work, but doesn’t leave room to luxuriate a little in a show’s universe. Hats off to Strange New Worlds for seeming to find the balance in the new landscape to harken back to episodic adventures that were still possible for Enterprise while still pursuing an overall arc. 

Next Voyage: One of those little detours we mentioned as Enterprise borrows from the TNG de-evolution playbook in “Extinction.”

(Images downloaded from @trekcore, and I will be happy to remove them if requested.)

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev. || AO3 || My Website

Chapter 40: January 2017

“Look, I’m not arguing with you that you don’t take decorations down before the sixth, I’m just saying—”

“No, you don’t take them down until after the sixth, you have to go all the way through Epiphany.”

“Then we should still have taken them down before we left.”

“It’s still the sixth!”

“And we won’t be in until Monday!”

“Which is after the sixth. It doesn’t have to come down on the seventh.”

Sasha sighed. “I think Jon and Martin are just using the whole ‘we don’t want to tip Elias off that we’re all going to the same place’ thing as an excuse not to have to listen to this argument.”

Tim snorted. “You’re just saying that because you’re wrong.”

She swatted him, but he suspected she was too glad he was poking at her to be really annoyed.

He genuinely hadn’t realized how stressed and upset he’d been until he walked into the Archives to find it decked out like it was going to be the site of Fezziwig’s Christmas ball. It must have taken Sasha—and, as he later found out, Gerry—most of the weekend to set up. Even then he’d held it together until Sasha told him why she’d done it, at which point he wasn’t particularly ashamed to admit he’d broken down sobbing and ended up at the bottom of a hug pile.

They were just lucky Elias hadn’t come down to be a dick.

Christmas was over now, or would be after today—Tim was adamant about that—but oddly, he didn’t feel as flat as he normally would when the lights and garlands started coming down. Normally he threw himself into planning for Valentine’s Day or Pancake Day, depending on which was earlier and how much he wanted to torment his coworkers, as a way to distract himself from the end of the season, but this year, there wasn’t a need for that. Partly it was that he still wasn’t entirely recovered from…well, everything. Partly it was that he didn’t feel so much like things were ending—only beginning. Mostly, though, it was that they were busy.

Cinnamon Rose Books still had a wreath hanging on the door, along with a few other decorations, and Sasha took one look at it, then stepped to the far side of the threshold before pressing the bell. Tim was about to ask her why when Gerry opened the door, glanced up briefly, then grabbed Tim, dipped him, and kissed him thoroughly.

“Hi,” he said when he let him up for air.

“Hi,” Tim said, a bit breathless and dizzy. Then he noticed the sprig of mistletoe directly over where he’d been standing. “Oh. How long has that been there?”

“Since we decorated. You just usually don’t stand under it when you knock.” Gerry smirked at him, then stepped back. “Come on in. The others are upstairs. Please get up here before they start playing their damned music.”

Sasha coughed. Tim was pretty sure it was to hide a laugh. “Sinner’s Gin again?”

“No, it’s that fucking steampunk space pirate band. Apparently they’ve got a new album or something coming out in a couple weeks, and Melanie’s heard some of it but Jon hasn’t. I kind of tuned the explanation out,” Gerry confessed under his breath. “They’ve been talking about it for the last twenty minutes.”

Tim couldn’t help but laugh himself. “Lead on, then. Let’s get this party started.”

Something smelled good—like someone was baking pies—and as they headed up into the living part of the shop, Tim noted the garland, tinsel, and small live tree still shedding its needles gently in the corner. “You haven’t taken the decorations down yet,” he said, with a note of triumph. Sasha rolled her eyes at him.

“That’s Neenie’s thing. Decorations stay up until the second of February. You’ll have to ask her about it. As long as she helps with the breakdown, I don’t really care, honestly.” Gerry led them into the kitchen. “Okay! They’re here. Can we talk about literally anything else now?”

“I’m just saying, the evidence is not on the side of a happy ending.” Jon spoke with the air of one scoring a point in some ineffable debate.

“Yeah, you’re right, but I can dream, can’t I?” Melanie looked up from where she was setting the table and offered Sasha a half-smile. “Hey.”

“Hey. Why do the decorations have to stay up until second February?” Sasha gave her a smile that was so obviously an imitation of Tim’s over-the-top flirting that Jon actually snickered.

Melanie shrugged. “That’s just how my mother did it. Decorations go up four Sundays before Christmas and stay up until Candlemas. Don’t ask me what Candlemas is, because I have no clue.”

“Presentation of Jesus at the temple,” Tim said automatically. “It’s the end of the Epiphany season and the start of Ordinary Time.”

“You grew up Catholic, right?” Gerry tossed that off over his shoulder as he headed to the fridge. “Beer, anyone?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tim said, a bit disquieted. He didn’t think he’d ever mentioned that to anyone, and he hadn’t set foot in a confessional since joining the Institute. He and God were on better terms than they’d been after Danny died, or at least he thought they were, but he didn’t quite know where he stood with the Church. “Uh, how’d you know that?”

“Guessed. You said your grandparents came over from Italy during the war. Balance of probability was that they were either Catholic or atheists, and you know too much about religion to be an atheist.” Gerry handed him a stout. “Always a bit jealous of people who had belief in something like that. Something good, rather than…” He waved vaguely, encompassing himself, Jon, Martin, and the general situation they found themselves in.

Tim raised an eyebrow at him and gestured pointedly at Melanie and Martin. “You don’t believe in anything good?”

Gerry smiled, if a bit reluctantly. “Yeah, okay, point.”

Martin shook his head, a fondly exasperated look in his eyes. “Sit down and eat.”

Melanie pulled a box of matches out of a drawer. “Anything come close to you lot lately?”

“Nothing in person,” Jon said, glancing around at the others. “At least not in the Archives.”

“Or the tunnels,” Martin said. “We’ve…been staying to the first level. Haven’t noticed the walls moving around so much.”

Sasha shook her head. “No new encounters for me. What about you, Tim?”

Tim thought over the last few days. “Can’t think of anything. Just the usual, then.”

Melanie nodded and lit four candles—one for the Eye, one for the Stranger, one for the Spiral, and one for the Hunt. They weren’t concerned about the Corruption so much these days, not with Jane Prentiss dead and out of the way; they hadn’t seen anything of the Web since the attack, and if Martin said he wasn’t worried about the Buried, Tim trusted him. Most of the other entities hadn’t really bothered them.

Tim still thought they should maybe be warding off the Slaughter, but both Melanie and Jon insisted they hadn’t seen anything of it since they got back from Sheffield, so he’d dropped that argument some weeks ago.

The gatherings had been Jon’s idea. At first they’d shared information piecemeal, in stolen moments here and there, hoping for times when Elias was distracted or talking around things they didn’t want him to know about, like that Melanie and Gerry were helping them. (It had been a long time since Tim had believed Elias’ nothing escapes my notice to be anything but literal.) After an attempt to have a hurried debriefing in the tunnels during which they all tried to talk at once and Martin came away with a headache so bad he had to lie down the rest of the afternoon, Jon had suggested they move the discussions to a time and place they could be sure of being unobserved, and where the whole group could participate. Gerry had offered up his rooms on the basis that the shop could provide a good cover if anyone wanted to know where they were going—it wasn’t so unusual for people from the Magnus Institute to go to a place like that, especially if they were doing research—and with the wards in place, they could be reasonably certain they were safe.

Melanie, it turned out, had picked up takeaway from a particular restaurant a few blocks away that was, or so she swore, the only place in London that did a proper char siu. Tim observed the way all three of them handled the chopsticks and asked, “Another tradition?”

“Hmm?” Martin frowned for a second, then his eyes cleared as he swallowed the bite in his mouth. “Oh, the meal? No, not really. Melanie just really likes Mr. Zhang’s recipes, so it’s kind of our go-to when none of us feel like cooking.”

“Just wanted to make sure.” Tim was still sorting out what the three of them did because it was helpful or protected them and what they did because it was comfortable and familiar. He was also finding that he liked being looped into their traditions. That, as much as anything else, had gone a long way towards soothing his anxieties and settling his anger over the last few weeks.

They lapsed into silence for a while, broken only by the clinking of silverware against plate. Gerry waited until Melanie and Jon were finished with a playful duel with their chopsticks over a particularly large snow pea before he said, “Right, who wants to start?”

Jon sighed. “I suppose I will. I’ve been going through Gertrude’s laptop.”

“How’d you get into it?” Sasha asked, surprising Tim, who had assumed Jon had asked her.

Jon looked slightly sheepish. “I, er, I posted on a few tech-oriented forums asking about statements. A woman came by yesterday to give one, and while she was there, I asked her to take a look at it. Pretended I’d locked myself out somehow.”

“Probably deleted a bit of code in the administrative permissions. Not hard if you know what you’re doing,” Sasha mused. She caught Tim’s look and added, “I’m the one who told him to find another way in, Tim. It’s not that I didn’t want to know, it’s just, well, I didn’t want to tempt myself to start digging for those secrets instead. Besides, the more Elias thinks Jon doesn’t trust us with his investigations, the more protected we’ll all be from his snooping, right?”

“Point,” Tim admitted.

Martin exhaled slowly. “Christ, Jon, I wish you’d told us…what was it? Her statement?”

“Ah, I’m—I’m not altogether sure, actually. S-something about a parser bot, um, Sergey Ushanka?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard that one,” Sasha said. “Guy who allegedly tried to upload his brain into a computer to cheat death, managed it, found out it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and now chats with people and slowly goes mad over the course of it, right? ‘The angles cut me when I try to think.’” She uttered this in a cartoonishly spooky voice, wiggling her fingers dramatically.

Nobody else laughed. Jon nodded, unsmiling; Gerry scowled. “I’ve heard that name. Where have I heard that name before?”

“Your dad’s notebook. The one you used to work out the wards and shanty combos,” Melanie said. She laid her chopsticks down, very carefully, like she was afraid she might break them if she didn’t. “That was on the last page he’d written on. Some shop in Soho he reckoned might have ‘the last piece of Sergey Ushanka’.”

“Right. We never understood what that meant.”

“It’s an old urban legend,” Jon said. “According to Ms. Winters, anyway. She says it dates back to 1983, to the early days of home computers. First the story said he coded his brain onto floppy disks, then CDs, then finally uploaded directly onto the web. I can’t help but wonder if they’re all true, in their own way.”

Martin drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, his eyes going vacant. “Ger, how old were you when your dad died?”

“Four or five. Don’t really remember all that well.” Gerry shrugged, but Tim could see how much it hurt. He reached over and squeezed his hand as comfortingly as he could; Gerry squeezed back before adding, “I don’t remember him writing in it for a few months before he died, though. Mostly I just remember him sitting in his chair. I think he might’ve been sick, which makes sense if he tried to quit.”

Tim cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

Gerry blinked at him. “Didn’t I ever tell you lot? Dad was an Archival Assistant. Worked with Gertrude. I didn’t know that until I met her, but…”

“You told us,” Martin said softly. “Neens and me, I mean, the night you…that first night. You probably just forgot we weren’t all there for that conversation.”

“Probably. Honestly, it’s hard to keep straight who was present for what conversation those first couple days, everything got so damned muddled.” Gerry rubbed his forehead. “Anyway, yeah, my dad worked in the Archives. I know he wanted to quit to raise me, but if you can’t leave…he was probably dying by inches even before Mum killed him. She probably waited until he was weak.”

Melanie snorted. “That doesn’t sound like Aunt Mary. I always thought she liked it better when they had a bit of fight to them.”

“Yeah, the problem with her ‘diversifying her portfolio’ was that she took away the bits from each one she liked, and I think that was the part of the Hunt she liked, was seeing how people reacted when they were cornered,” Gerry muttered. “Flight, fight, or freeze, yeah?”

“Yeah, and you’re an emu,” Martin and Melanie said simultaneously. Tim almost snorted lo mein out his nose.

Sasha coughed into her hand. “Anyway, Jon, you’ve been going through the laptop…what have you found?”

“Very little of any use. At least not about stopping the Unknowing…I gather Gertrude wasn’t much of a note-taker. But I’ve been sifting through her emails.” Jon pushed his mostly empty plate away. Martin silently slid it back, and he picked up his chopsticks again without complaint. “She’d requested a huge travel budget from the Institute, and she got it. Kept all the booking information and receipts for that. She also ordered a lot of, um, sporadic but unusually high-quantity purchases. Petrol. Lighter fluid. Pesticides. High-powered torches.”

Gerry snorted. “Sounds like Gertrude. Fire was kind of her backup plan for everything, but some things you can’t burn, I guess.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard the term ‘burning daylight,’ but I don’t think that’s literal,” Tim chimed in, earning groans from Martin and Sasha and a smirk from Gerry. “She didn’t travel with those, did she?”

“I doubt it. They’d be quite difficult to take through customs,” Jon said dryly. He hesitated, then added, “There is…one other thing. I suppose in retrospect it’s a bit obvious. Gertrude was buying Leitners. She was the one who bought that copy of The Key of Solomon Dominic Swain mentioned finding an auction for—grbookworm1818.”

Martin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of fucking course she was.”

“I’m not surprised, honestly,” Gerry admitted. “She had me run one or two down for her while I was helping her out, but it’s kind of odd she would have bought any in a way that could be traced back to her like that. She wasn’t stupid.” He paused, then added, “Mostly.”

“Hang on.” Melanie pushed away from the table. “Is it still in the same place, Ger?”’

Tim didn’t know what it was, but Gerry seemed to understand—of course he did. “Yeah, I found it last time I needed it. Still there.”

Melanie slipped out of the room. Jon shot a glance at Martin. “Do I want to know?”

“We keep a ledger,” Martin explained. “Known books of power, whether they were his or not, what happened to them. That sort of thing.”

“We thought about calling it our ‘hunting record’, but, you know…” Gerry trailed off as Melanie dramatically flung the door open and dropped a red notebook and pen in front of him. “Why am I the scribe?”

“Because you worked with Gertrude. You find it, you list it,” Melanie shot back at him.

Gerry sighed theatrically. “Fine.” He opened the book, flipped through a few pages, and scribbled a line in the book. “Any idea what she did with it?”

“I’m hoping she burned it, but my luck cannot be that good,” Jon muttered.

Tim watched Gerry fill in the information in a surprisingly neat, practiced hand. He wasn’t one of those people who believed you could tell a person’s personality through their handwriting, but Gerry’s showed that he’d been well-trained and was well-used to doing delicate work with a pen, unsurprising if his mother had intended to teach him how to work her Book someday. “Was that the only one she got? A copy of one of the most famous demonology texts in the world that almost certainly actually worked? Which of the Fourteen would that be, by the way?”

“Probably more than one, honestly,” Martin said. “I really hope she burned that one. I also hope Leitner didn’t keep it too close to any of his other books.”

Tim paused as the possibilities of that filtered through his mind. “You think they influence each other?”

“I’m sure they can. Or at least…egg each other on, maybe? The more powerful the influence of the Fourteen is on a book, or an object, the more likely it is to affect the world around it.” Martin’s voice shifted slightly in tone. “Some will only draw those already Marked, some will draw anyone susceptible. Some will draw those affected by another of the Fourteen, and those are to be feared, because they—” He broke off with a yelp as Gerry leaned across Jon to smack him lightly on the forehead, and it was only then that Tim became aware of the static that had been crackling through the air.

His first instinct was to get angry. He knew Martin wouldn’t do that on purpose, but for him to even be able to accidentally channel the Eye through the wards meant his connection was getting stronger, and if that was happening, it was because Martin was building it, which meant he was drawing on its power and not telling them about it. From the way Gerry’s brows knitted in an expression of mingled worry and irritation, he was probably thinking the same thing, and it was just a matter of which of them was going to yell at Martin first.

Then something over Gerry’s shoulder caught his attention, and he stood, the anger abruptly draining away to be replaced with skyrocketing anxiety. “Shit, the candle!”

Gerry whipped his head around, and Melanie half-started from her seat, but Tim was already on the move. The point of the wards that marked the Eye sat directly behind the door to the kitchen. Somehow—probably when Melanie came back from fetching the ledger—the candle had toppled onto its side and broken in half. Fortunately it had extinguished itself without setting the counter on fire. Unfortunately, it had broken the wards and let the Beholding in without their noticing.

Tim grabbed Gerry’s lighter out of his hand without even consciously being aware he was holding it up, righted the candlestick, snapped the remainder of the wax off the broken candle, and yanked the top part away, leaving a wick too long to burn safely. Right now, though, he didn’t care about safe, just fast, so he doubled the wick over, flicked on the lighter, and lit it from the middle.

Someone was muttering under their breath, the familiar cadence of a Latin prayer, and Tim recognized it as the prayer to Saint Michael; he crossed himself, more out of habit than anything, and started to join in before his brain caught up to the fact that he was the one muttering it. As he reached the final words—divina virtute, in infernum detrude, amen—the long end dropped away harmlessly and the flame settled into a more reasonable level.

Tim took a deep breath, stepped back, and turned to face the others. He focused in on Martin, who was pale as a sheet. “You okay, Marto?”

“I—I think so.” Martin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m sorry, that—I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” Tim assured him. “I’ll…admit I was about to get angry with you, but it wasn’t because I thought you did it on purpose, it was because I thought you’d got a strong enough connection to the Beholding that it overpowered the wards.”

“I was, too,” Gerry admitted. He held up a hand to Melanie, who had bristled. “No, don’t. You know it’s a valid concern.”

Martin winced, but nodded. “Wouldn’t be the first time I was sneaking around thinking I was keeping you all safe by not telling you what I was getting into. I really am trying to get better about that, but it’s fair of you to think…” He rubbed his face, then turned back to Jon. “We, um, we got off topic. Did Gertrude get more than one Leitner?”

“She got three,” Jon said softly. He reached out and squeezed Martin’s hand gently; Martin turned his hand over and squeezed back. “In addition to The Key of Solomon, she got a special edition of The Seven Lamps of Architecture, by John Ruskin. The other was a 1910 pamphlet simply titled A Disappearance.”

Melanie made a face. “Those could be anything.”

“Yeah, in that case, it probably depends on what they actually do. Last one might be the Lonely, but it could also be the Spiral, or maybe even the Stranger. No clue about the architecture one.” Gerry blew a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Anything else from Gertrude?”

“Not so far, but I’ll keep looking.” Jon sighed heavily. “I’m starting to think the important question is why Elias killed Gertrude, and I’m not sure I’ll find that in her laptop.”

Gerry and Martin exchanged glances. Tim, who flattered himself that he’d grown fairly adept at reading both of them in the past few months, looked back and forth. “You have an idea.”

“Gertrude’s whole…thing was stopping the rituals, right?” Martin said. “And Gerry said the Rite of the Watcher’s Crown was still coming up. Probably.”

“And the Archivist is probably important to it,” Gerry added. “Which means…”

“That whatever his reason for killing her was, it was probably tied to that,” Sasha completed. “Either he killed her to prevent her from stopping it…or because that was the only way to stop it. Maybe it was in progress and he killed her to disrupt it.”

“Or it’s a complete fucking coincidence,” Tim pointed out. “After all, he told Martin he’d kill Jon if he ever told him everything he knows. Elias might have killed her for some reason completely unrelated to the Watcher’s Crown, or any of the other rituals, and we still have to figure out what that is.”

“I agree with Tim,” Melanie said. “You can’t assume Elias even knows anything about any of these rituals, let alone the Eye’s.”

“I think it’s safe to assume he has some idea of that,” Jon said dryly. “He seems to know everything else that goes on in the Institute, just about. I very much doubt he didn’t know what Gertrude was up to by now, even if he’s only been head of the Institute for about ten years or so. But you’re right, that doesn’t mean he killed her for any reasons to do with them. It’s, it’s something I still need to figure out.”

Tim studied Gerry for a minute. “Hey, can I ask a somewhat off-topic question? I mean, it’s at least in the general area of the same topic, but it’s not exactly the same.”

Gerry laughed. “Go ahead.”

“You said Gertrude was trying to stop the Unknowing, and we’ve figured out it’s still coming up. You also mentioned the Watcher’s Crown hadn’t happened yet. Are there any other rituals we should be looking out for?”

“Just the Dark’s, I think,” Gerry replied. “Unless she managed to stop that one in the six months between me dying and her dying. She told me she’d disrupted eight in total in recent years, and since she reckoned they were all going to happen one right after the other…”

“Wait, but that leaves six. What are the other ones?” Sasha asked. “The Eye’s, the Stranger’s, the Dark’s…”

Gerry shook his head. “We’d been doing research into the Hunt’s ritual—she called it the Eternal Chase—and from everything we found, they weren’t exactly keen to start it any time soon. She also said we didn’t have to worry about the Risen War, which I assume is the Slaughter’s ritual, but she never really elaborated on that and I was starting to get really bad about then, so I never asked. And she never found anything on a Terminus ritual. And now that I am…well, you know…I’m pretty sure she was right. Death comes for everyone eventually, and in a world where there’s only death…eventually everything will die out and there will be nothing left at all, and then Terminus would starve. So no, I don’t think we have to worry about that.”

“Makes sense that the Hunt wouldn’t want to start, either,” Melanie mused. “I mean, it’s the anticipation, right? The thrill of knowing what’s coming.”

“We’ll have to keep an eye out for the Dark’s, then.” Jon sighed. “I don’t suppose she said anything about it.”

“Only that it was building slowly and she didn’t think we needed to be concerned about it yet. She also didn’t think it would be as destructive, even if it failed, as the Stranger’s ritual.”

“Would we know?” Sasha asked. “How can you tell if…I don’t know. If a power is rebuilding?”

Gerry pursed his lips. “I think, and don’t swear me to this, you can tell because anything that happens is going to be…lower-powered, and closer to the epicenter of the ritual. She dragged me back to the site of the Sunken Sky, which was the Buried’s ritual—no, it’s okay,” he added quickly, holding out his hands to Melanie and Martin, who had both tensed. “It happened like six or seven years before we went there, and it’s practically on the other side of the world. We just went back so she could get a…feel for how much power was building. She said she could sense that it was starting to spread, but it wasn’t very intense, so she reckoned it was fine. Probably be another century or so before it happens again. She said for sure it had been a hundred fifty years or so since the last attempt at the Unknowing.”

Tim exhaled slowly. “So you’re saying once we stop the Unknowing, we’ll be safe.”

“From the ritual. Not from the Stranger.” Gerry’s voice was gentle, but tinged with regret. “It might not try anything much for a bit, but just because the majority of its power gets dissipated or blown to kingdom come or whatever doesn’t mean it won’t have any influence.”

“Still. We won’t have to worry about it to that extreme.” Tim popped a water chestnut into his mouth.

Martin glanced over at Melanie. “You’ve been looking into the Unknowing, right? Found anything?”

Was it Tim’s imagination, or did Melanie look slightly guilty? “Nothing terribly useful yet. Jon talked to, um, Diana for me and got me a pass to use the library, so…I mean, I know you lot have probably scoured those books backwards and forwards, but—”

“The Stranger wasn’t on my radar until Gerry brought up the Unknowing,” Martin admitted. “Even when I worked in the library, I didn’t generally read many books unless they were relevant to something we had going on, or because I was trying to figure out a connection between seemingly unrelated books that a single person had checked out all at once.”

Tim bit the inside of his cheek. He’d probably read every single book the Magnus Institute’s library had on circuses, and he knew he’d read everything they had on Robert Smirke, but he hadn’t really known what he was looking for at the time, so he doubted it would be of much use. He wondered whether to bring that up, though. He hadn’t yet told anyone—not even Gerry—all the details about Danny; Sasha knew, or at least she knew the basics, but she probably wouldn’t have made the connection between that and his Stranger mark. Or maybe she had, he wasn’t sure. She was pretty smart, and she’d definitely got the hang of all this…crap fast. Still, he wasn’t sure how to bring it up without having to spill his guts at the table. He wasn’t ready for that.

“Anything the rest of us read would have been before we knew anything about the Fourteen,” Sasha said, and yeah, she’d definitely made the connection, something confirmed when he felt her foot gently press his under the table. “Not like we’ve had time since then. So yeah, Melanie, anything you can pull from those books is going to be a help.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Got a few leads, but nothing concrete yet.”

Gerry rapped his knuckles against the table twice, making Jon start slightly. “Oh—that reminds me. Got a shipment in this afternoon, blind lot I bought from an estate out Oxford way. Former owner either had a special interest in Arthur Conan Doyle or in Victorian-era theology and spirituality—there were two professors with the same surname, not sure which one this lot came from. Maybe both, they might’ve been related somehow. Anyway, there’s something powerful in the box. I haven’t really had a chance to deal with it yet, though, short of telling Umberto he’s not allowed to claw it. If you lot want to give me a hand tonight, we can see if there’s anything in it that might be useful in figuring out the shape of the Unknowing, and if we find whatever book it is that probably killed the former owner, we can burn it together, make a night of it. What do you say?”

It said something about how utterly fucked-up Tim’s life had become in the last year that that actually lifted his spirits and made him smile. “Okay, but someone is going to have to teach me a new shanty. I’d imagine you don’t use the same one every time, that’d get too predictable.”

“Well, we do have our standards.”

Melanie got a look in her eye that Tim found familiar in a way that made his heart inexplicably hurt. He didn’t know why until she flicked her chopsticks in Tim’s direction and said, “Debatable.”

Sasha laughed so hard she fell out of her chair. Tim didn’t even mind that it was at his expense.

[cipherexists]

mmm TMA jmart yes

Jon wouldn't be forgetting the look of fear and sadness on the kid's face and how that fear felt to consume for a while, is this really the same kind of thing that Martin had experienced? That utter understanding that no one loved you and the fear no one ever would?

Or A kid comes in and gives a statement that gives a look into how Martin felt during his run-in with the Lonely. Martin needs a hug.

ao3 link here

Jon settled at his desk, flicking a few papers around and putting them aside so he wouldn't fiddle with them while recording. Sat across from him was a tall and lean child. They couldn't have been more than 14 or 15 and were doing anything other than focusing on what was in front of them, choosing to pick at the skin of their fingertips and chipping their own nail polish.

The kid, Jayden as the eye supplied him, was here to give a statement on their interaction with the lonely. The phone call to set up the appointment mentioned something along the lines of everyone disappearing while they were at school. The idea that someone so young could have felt so isolated caused a slight hint of ‘uncomfortable’ for the Archivist but he pressed on starting the recording with a sigh.

“Statement of Jayden Hirst, regarding their school being suddenly empty in the middle of the day. Statement taken live from subject, date twenty-first of January twenty seventeen. Statement begins.”

Jayden looked uncomfortable for a moment, taking a deep breath and moving their hands to tap lightly against the table before starting

“It was just last week, I hadn't really been looking forward to school that day as I don't really have many friends to make it any fun but the friends I did have were pretty upset with me for some reason or another. It was around 12:30, the day had gone as normal but I needed a time out to calm down, the classroom gets pretty loud sometimes and the bathroom is much quieter and cooler. I put my hand up and asked my teacher if i could leave and she handed me a hall pass like normal and I left the room.

What wasn't normal was that the hallway was, foggy? As soon as the door shut behind me it went dead silent, so quiet I could hear the blood in my ears. Now I wanted quiet, yeah, but also the bathroom has some pretty good white noise from the fans and that is so much better than hearing your own blood pumping.

I kept going though, I'm not really sure why? The bathroom wasn't far but the fog was a bit too cold for comfort and there was a pretty large amount of panic building due to the eerie-ness of everything. The bathroom opened and it was even foggier than outside, it didn't roll out as I opened the door though, just stayed there like a wall. It felt better than the empty corridors and it was much more familiar anyway so I went in. The panic went away.

It was so calm in there? Maybe calm isn't the right word. It was just a void. All the panic from the classroom, from my friends being mad at me and from the fog it just all went away. I couldn't even see myself in the mirror. It was so dense there. Eventually, I kind of slid down the wall and sat on the floor revelling in it. I realised I didn't need my friends. They were just making me upset and not having them, well, I wouldn't be sad over them being mad at me if I never spoke to them in the first place. You know?

I stayed there for a while. In the fog. I don't know how long really but at some point, I started crying. Didn't even notice it, only did because the air was cold and the tears felt freezing on my face. Maybe it was a few hours but I realised I need to go back to class or home or somewhere other than the filthy bathroom floor.

No one else ever walked in, there was never any noise outside, and the hallway was still filled with this wet fog, maybe more than before. I headed back to my classroom and there was no one there. My seat was still warm but the room was filled with vapour that didn't move even as a breeze passed through.

As I was sitting, I went back to thinking about my friends, how much I loved them and how much they had helped me when we weren't fighting. But the fog grew thicker as I realised that maybe they never cared. And again when I realised that not even my family really cared. I didn't have anyone that would miss me or even hold me when I cried, they were lying to me and they hated me and I was never anything to them.”

Jon blinked owlishly as Jayden started to breathe heavier and heavier, their hands stopping their rhythmic tapping to pull at the strings of their hoodie and hug their body. If Jon paid enough attention he would see the same fog Jayden was describing start to roll off their shoulders and filter through the floorboards. But Jayden carried on through their statement, they had to, they were compelled.

“I felt alone then, the fog in the classroom, it was so thick. I couldn't even see my hands, the light. The light was starting to get darker and I couldn't- I couldn't breathe. It all felt so consuming and empty at the same time. But then my phone went off.

I forgot I even had it on me in the first place but I had received a message from an online friend. It was silly, something about them having fallen over outside their college and ruined their jeans but the shape of it was rather phallic. I don't know how that broke whatever was happening to me but it did. The fog rolled away and I was back in the bathroom, sitting on the floor in the end stall with my phone cradled in my hands.

It hadn't even been 5 minutes but I felt exhausted. I headed back to my class and slept the rest of the lesson. Everything was normal after that. I keep dreaming of those foggy hallways, I still haven't spoken to my friends, it feels wrong to do it.”

Jayden took a long breath at finishing their statement, they had tear marks staining their cheeks but the shaking had somewhat subsided and they fiddled with stickers on the back of their phone. Jon reached over and clicked the recorder off and slid it from the centre of the table.

“Well done, that’s all I need. You can stop by the reception and get a hot drink if you need the time to recover.” Jayden took a breath, making eye contact for the first time before muttering a ‘thank-you’ and sliding the chair back. Jon sat for a second letting the statement flit through his mind, the expression on this kid's face and the way that kid was so overwhelmed with fear. Jon didn't understand why it was getting to him so much, why the fear he saw scared him. Martin went through that. Martin felt like that. The same clouds of fog had enveloped someone he truly cared for and he wasn't there to help. He wasn't even a text away. As if thinking of him summoned him there was a faint knock on the archive door.

Jon startled and shouted a quick ‘come in’ to reveal Martin, holding two cups of tea one barely sloshing over the edge. “You look stressed, I saw that kid come in and knew you were in for a weird one so I came prepared. Tea?” It was a quiet invitation but something Jon appreciated endlessly, showing that with a slight nod and standing to meet Martin as he placed the mugs on the table. “Are you alright? Would you like to tal-” Martin was cut off by Jon slipping his hands around his waist and tucking his head into Martin's shoulder.

Martin smelt of old paper and wood polish, a little of whatever deodorant he put on that morning. His jumper was this dark green that was well worn and covered in little bobbles that made it softer than it would've been new. Most importantly however was how Martin wrapped his arms around Jon’s shoulders and pulled him ever further into his chest while placing his chin into Jon’s hair.

Martin let out a small hum before pressing a kiss to Jon’s head and patting his back. Sure some days he'd feel the questions about the man's feelings for him start to bubble up, but it was moments like this that kept the cold fog out of his head. Kept him warm and clear.

After a minute or two Jon let go and pulled a seat around next to his, patting it for Martin to sit next to him. They drank their teas silently, Jon’s knee pressed into Martin's thigh, small points of contact, anchoring both of them in the present.