#end of this very long snippet

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

TTD - First Meeting 4/4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 and end

Sequel of this and end. Yeah, it has a title and everything now.

*

Everything was white. And Hero’s memory was fuzzy.

They remembered a warehouse. A very dark warehouse, full of false traps and occupied by a weird Villain. They saw themself visiting the whole building, encountering tools and a sort of workshop, but never finding anyone. Only a disembodied voice yelled in their ears, threatening in a more and more pleading tone to leave them alone. In the end, they complied. It’d felt more of an intrusion than an arrest attempt. The world could bear the robbery of a few food items. They’d left empty-handed.

No, hold on, that had happened a while ago. What was going on now?

They remembered two silver eyes. Supervillain. Oh right, that guy ! He was involved somehow. And then – then -

“Do you really think this was going to be that easy to keep me in ?”

Oh, hell had broken loose then. The cage that had Supervillain trapped was being ripped into shreds. The bars flied like they were made in cardboard. And Hero called Villain from the other side of the room.

“You need to free me now !”

“But -”

“Look, push this button and run ! I’m dealing with this.”

Another bar creaked. Villain smashed the button. Hero rushed to the broken cage. This didn’t look good. Someone had won the superpower lottery here, and it wasn’t them. If Supervillain hit them even once, their bones would shatter like glass. Normally, they would have no chance, but for now Supervillain was still blind. The shadow around their eyes moved with their face, staying where it was despite the man’s desperate efforts. He grabbed the last bar in his hand, handling it like a club, and swung around, yelling at Hero to get to it.

They accepted.

As a low-rank hero, they rarely fought during the job. However, the agency insisted on a mandatory and strict physical training. So Supervillain had super-strength, sure, big deal. He didn’t have the energy beams of Superhero. And when he hurled insults at them, they didn’t have to consider them. So they struck. Chin, solar plexus, ribs. All hits landed, but they didn’t make much of an impact. It was okay. Hero had all the time of the world. It was easy to see that Supervillain never had to fight on the defensive before. Hero was nearly sorry for them, but then they remembered the little old lady from the building who would never finish her tea, and they punched harder. He tried to fight back, of course. Once or twice his fist missed by just an inch, and the shockwaves that came after were not pleasant. You’re not going to scream, said Superhero in their head. I won’t let you. They know where you are if you scream. Hero gritted their teeth, caught the arm that was in their reach, and twisted. Supervillain didn’t made a noise, either. Only his bones cracked when his wrist was broken. He took a step back without skipping a beat, and screamed:

“See, Villain ? This is what they’re going to do to you !”

Hero instinctively looked beyond him. Judging by the round shadow in the corner, Villain hadn’t moved. It was impossible to know their body language or the expression on their face. The dark mist that blindfolded Supervillain slipped, just a little. Hero could see a glimmer of silver eyes.

And then, everything was white.

Hero’s hand gently moved, clenching and clenching their fingers that were satisfyingly still all there. Nothing hurt, their memories were somewhat back, maybe it was time to jump on their feet and panic. So that’s what they did, their widened eyes frantically examining the surroundings. They didn’t recognize anything. They were sitting on the dirt, the sky above their head. Supervillain was nowhere in sight. And Villain…

Hero rushed towards the only person in sight, a thin silhouette in a black gown. They put a hand on a still shoulder, but as they were trying to turn them on the side, Villain turned their head away:

“Halt !”

Surprised, Hero suspended their gesture:

“Why ? You’re hurt ?”

“No. I am...displeased at the idea of someone seeing my face.”

“Why ?”

“It’s been a long time.”

Deciding not to probe any further for the moment, Hero helped putting Villain’s hood back, then sat next to them, avoiding their gaze. Standing up was possible, but for now still ambitious.

“So here we stand, nemesis”, said Villain. “Well... sort of. The moment of final judgment will be upon us soon, but before, tell me one thing.”

“Yes ?”

“Last week, an unknown hand left a bag full of Twinkies in front of my lair. Are you the culprit ?”

Hero chuckled.

“Yeah,” they admitted. “There was a sale.”

“Yet you didn’t try to enter.”

“Nah.”

Villain stayed silent, so Hero took upon themself to keep the conversation going:

“So. Hm. Do you have...any idea about what happened ?”

“I’m afraid so. Such is the curse of having a superior intellect; although the truth is as dark as my soul, I cannot unseen it.”

“Buddy, you’re doing this bit while you can’t stand up.”

“Hmm. I guess he used his power while my shadow came back on his eyes.”

“So you think it turned against him and he disappeared ?”

“Indeed. He won’t be missed.”

“Still…”

Hero looked around them:

“But he had enough time to erase...”

“Don’t say it. It might look like it was a common torture room of doom to you, but it was my torture room of doom.”

“It was where you lived. I’m sorry.”

The phone inside their pocket hadn’t been erased, but that didn’t make a difference. No call had been made. Hero sighed, gently massaged their forehead, then risked to look at Villain. The shadow was back on their face, but they were struggling to stand up.

“Need a hand ?”

A groan answered them. Hero shrugged and helped them standing them on their feet.

“Your abilities are beyond my understanding, nemesis,” said Villain in a sulking voice. “Why didn’t you disappear ? What is your power ?”

“It’s not really a power, actually.”

“You’re being unclear.”

They stumbled. Hero caught their arm:

“Okay. Before my birth, my parents saved a light spirit, so it gave them a blessing. I can’t be hurt by anything that is a direct source of light. Fire, electricity, plasma, whatever. The sun can heal me a little too, but it’s very slow. I suppose Supervillain’s power triggers flashes before working, so it doesn’t work on me.”

“So where comes your strength from ?”

“It’s called working out.”

“Cheating, then. I see.”

“I don’t think I can contact the agency before tomorrow. We’ll have to make do. You will fight if I give you to the police, uh ?”

“Naturally.”

“Yeah, we’re not doing that. I just want to crash on my bed and sleep twelve hours. I have a guest room. Do you want to come to my place?”

“You mean infiltrating your lair ?”

“Just for this night.”

(It wasn’t just for this night)

*

Check the These Two Dorks Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with these characters.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[paimonial-rage]

spark - xiao

[random writing event] | requested by anonymous

“Do you want to try it?” You asked with a smile. “A day like this is a cause for celebration, don’t you think?”

He kept quiet as his gaze trailed to the thin stick within your hand. Though he never used one before, they weren’t unfamiliar to him. In times past, the more studious of the adepti found interest in those Inazuman delights. The lights would often draw his eyes from across a crowd, but he never bothered to investigate up close. While bright and beautiful, they died quickly as transient things often did.

“I’m alright. There’s no need to waste such human trivialities on me.”

As usual, his refusal didn’t color your expression with hurt. Instead, you shrugged and turned your attention back to the Mingxiao Lanterns floating in the sky.

“It wouldn’t be a waste to me. Not for you.”

He held back his urge to sigh. There you went again saying such things. Though you were assigned to his care, you didn’t need to visit him so often. You didn’t need to shower him with gifts. You didn’t need to stay by his side. He knew he wasn’t easy to be around. He knew he often made people feel nervous. But you didn’t mind. You weren’t scared away.

In the back of his mind, he wondered why Rex Lapis gave you to him. Xiao had been a loyal servant for years. Never once had he failed his duty. So he didn’t understand. What was he supposed to do with you? What was the purpose of keeping you by his side?

He broke away from his thoughts when a soft humming filled the air. Turning his attention to you, there you stood by the torchlight with that stick from earlier in hand. After lighting the tip, you held your arm out as the stick began to erupt in a burst of lights and stars. You laughed, waving it around, enjoying the streaks it made across the evening sky.

The sight was captivating.

But just as quickly as it began, it soon came to an end. With a sigh, you placed the sparkler to the side. Almost as if reading his mind, you turned to him with a bashful smile.

“They don’t last long, but they are beautiful, aren’t they? It may be a bit frivolous, but what’s the point in being alive if we don’t allow ourselves to enjoy it?”

Perhaps it was due to it being Lantern Rite that he suddenly found himself caught in a bout of honesty.

“I’m… not sure I understand.”

It was the most truthful answer he could give. And how shocking it was you did not judge him for it. Instead, you walked over to the box of sparklers and picked out a stick. With a smile, you then held it out to him.

“Why not try?”

[redo-rewind-if]

Sorry for the lack of snippets lately, I figured since it's so close to release that I wouldn't do anymore atm but... I couldn't resist sharing some of this scene lol.

[mercless]

The Harbingers

During the MSI 2022 Event there were High Noon Gothic-themed game missions, the descriptions of which told a tale over 10 'chapters' of the then newly released 2022 High Noon skins, over the course of the two-patches long event. Which went a little something like this;

A Western Prophecy A devil named Mordekaiser took everything from Leona's family, and she's gonna get it back. Time to find his train, and beat anyone who stands in her way.

Croaker Broker Leona meets Tahm Kench. He gives her a favor in the form of magic weapons, sure to help her on her mission… and what's a favor between friends, right? Now they are two.

A Bet's Debt Katarina is an enforcer, here to collect on a debt owed to the Outsider' Casino. Ain't nobody that can outrun her… not even Mordekaiser. Now they are three.

Vicious Vermin A Mysterious undertaker in a plague mask appears, brandishing a crossbow and reeking of death. Say's a conductors been taking his souls. Now they are four.

The Enemy of My Enemy Friends they ain't but you know what they say about enemies of your enemies. The four ride together, borardin' Moredekaiser's train. The heist is on.

Death of an Angel Varus was an angel, and now he's dead - but out here in the West, death is just the beginnin'. He can still fight, given some aid. The Five Harbingers are fathered.

Black Magic Woman Samira is a gun-witch in the employ of Mordekaiser, and she don't flinch in the face of a little trouble. The Harbingers meet their first challenge.

As Foretold The strangers name is Talon. 'The Harbingers' [they] sigh, 'I warned him.' Leona wonders what [they] mean. Varus takes aim: this [one] killed him. He wants revenge.

Spurn the Devil Leona confronts Mordekaiser, the King of the Sulfur Rail. It is prophesied that the Harbingers' arrival will usher in the end of days, but first they must lay the devil low.

The Final Ride Our heroes are triumphant, escaping to Angel's Perch. Are they truly creatures of prophecy, bringing the end of days? A storm gathers… they'll find out soon enough.

the original screenshot this was transcribed from can be found under the cut:

[guardsbian]

Iezekiel, a Plague druid and hunter of the Shade. Further lore for her can be found beneath the cut!

The Stygian Coalition, despite their reputation as "Shade hunters," never aims to fell the monstrous or corrupted until all other options have been exhausted. Their Plague druids' acute command of the flesh has been used to methodically rend Shade from body, while their Light clerics' extensive knowledge of the soul has been used to wholly cleanse Shade from mind. But no method is proven completely effective, and every new case may present a condition too advanced or situation too strange to salvage what was once warped, now long departed.

Iezekiel is among the Coalition's number of genuine hunters, though her speciality in viruses and microorganisms has always defined her role far more than any status as "willing executioner" could. Ask her how such a mild-mannered and studious Tundra came to wield a blade, shotgun, and enchanted gauntlet with such controlled effeciency, and she'd assure you that any member of the Plague clergy must be as well-versed in combat as they are prayer. Ask her why she's no longer a member of that clergy, and she's suddenly far less open to discussion.

Her outward sentimentality, then, is reserved largely for those inevitable ends. After all, she can be trusted to act alone; her judgment is sound, her blows are measured, and her opponents fight honorably and viciously in the hollow halls of whatever bit of ruinous construction they take shelter from the harsh Wasteland sun in.

The miserable, lumbering forms Iezekiel smites in the Plaguebringer's name are the life which proliferates in death, not so far from those revered, diminuitive forms she devotes her studies and magic to. There is a serene stillness in death; a stillness which the Rot-Mother's children riot and raze so vibrantly to combat. The squirming and pestilent things which invade death's stillness are exalted, beautiful, thrilling.

And yet, in the sprawling, hallowed carcasses of forsaken structures, long devoid of such fiercely devout and intoxicating life, Iezekiel must contend with a stillness of her own making.

[magistralucis]

The Lantern Fair [Zultanekh/Djoseras snippet]

(More of the same fic I was writing in this post. After Szarekh imposes peace on their dynasties, the two princes roam a festival together and talk kindly side-by-side. The inspiration for this scene borrows from a flashback Trazyn has in The Infinite and the Divine, a wish-lantern ceremony to hail good health for the new year. Lantern fairs are a very familiar aesthetic to me (I'm Asian), and I wanted to draw something from that mood, that bright and breathless nowhere. More below cut.)

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

It was like how he'd claimed, over the peace treaty they signed, that the next time they spoke it would be to greet Djoseras as dynast. In truth, that never came about, because they did meet again shortly afterwards. Szarekh's peace had far-reaching consequences. All the way over in Gheden, at a New Year's festival, did the two princes meet once more - where among the lords of a hundred dynasties, he recognized Djoseras right away.

"Hail to you, fair kynazh! Come alone, then, or with Oltyx in his splendid magnificence?"

It's a miracle what being in neutral territory can do, as haughty as the Nihilakh are and were. Helps to keep things objective.

Here is a catalogue of their last mortal meeting. Zultanekh is portly and handsome, Djoseras slim and graceful. Zultanekh wears rich warm fabrics, Djoseras cool and plain. Zultanekh is fond of the finer things in life, and would never say no to a sparkling goblet of sulphur-wine, while Djoseras is perfectly at home with a glass of tea. ("That's different," he'll protest when Zultanekh inquires if he does not drink with his brother, "Oltyx is my warrior's life.") In the company of others Zultanekh is a mirthful giant, a bold and booming and vivacious fire of a man; Djoseras, on the other hand, is a soft-spoken august creature, dark-haired and dark-eyed like a well kept secret.

Those eyes fix into his now. "Come together, and he is splendid indeed." Djoseras's voice is as stoic as ever, before it sharpens a little and his eyes flash with warning. "But I must tell you now: there's no room for two on the throne of Ithakas, no matter your fox-cunning."

That's his red hair again. The Crown Prince laughs. "Zultanekh gave you his word, did he not? He will not reckon with your brother. It is not Zultanekh you ought to worry about, but the admirers from your coreworlds, which he appears to be accumulating at a rapid pace."

He nods towards the square. He hardly needs to single out Oltyx among the crowd; ever since the younger scion came of age, he has been much wooed and courted, evidenced by the many lords surrounding his person. Standing closest to him is an exceptionally beautiful youth, turning heads by virtue of his existence, yet with eyes for Oltyx alone. ("The heir to the House of Aetis," Djoseras will explain later, betraying the slightest distaste in his tone, "on Sedh. His radiance is well known, though 'tis a pity to shine in a fringeworld.") The prince's sidelock has been cut and he is sturdier than ever, standing proud as a war hero ought to stand.

A fine sight, but a time come and gone for the older ones. "Already it does men our age no good, all this posturing and flattering. Be reassured that Zultanekh prefers a calmer soul. After all, is it not peacetime?"

It ought not to work, this level exchange of words. Peace does not become the necrontyr. Even so, Zultanekh is rewarded when the kynazh's expression softens in response. "Then it is not just you, since a dose of calm will do us all good," he muses, before - finally - a little smile breaks through. "I wish you luck in finding it, Crown Prince."

Not the thin blade-edged smiles of war. A genuine one, soft and slightly modest.

"Oh, I shan't struggle. Ithakas is a rose-garden even in winter."

He wants to see how far he can take this. If Djoseras was being his fastidious self he'd have pointed out that's the Nihilakh, with all the bright lights and vast nocturnal gardens surrounding them at present, but he has not. Zultanekh's eyes hood over with daring, and not a small amount of pleasure, as he steps forwards and offers his hand. "Since this is no place for our aged souls, Kynazh Djoseras, and the youth are content where they are - what say you to a walk?"

Djoseras glances down at it. Looks away, silver robes shimmering as he walks straight past him.

Stops, some eight steps ahead, before turning around.

"For once the Crown Prince would best lead." He says, and grins, sending love's long-lost shock though Zultanekh like a catastrophe.

For a moment he stares, heart stirred to breaking point, before collecting himself. Outwardly it's as if nothing happened. But for once, he feels he can do naught but follow.

Let it be known that Gheden that night was a phantasmagoria of wonders. Along every quarter incense burns sweet upon altars, and the whole place is lit up like the sun, though the winter be cold and dark. As the princes walk through the Lantern Fair they are shined upon like dialectics, turquoise like polar night against Zultanekh's red, the gold mellowed by Djoseras's silver. They spend long stretches of time in silence to take it all in, but spend just as long in deep conversations. Lost between a hundred dynasties, for this one night they might talk man to man - and there's a surprising amount of the world they see alike.

They see other things too. Other people. High up on a ziggurat they glimpse their host, the lead archivist of the Nihilakh, playing senet with the famed diviner of the Sautekh. Now that's a pair seething to strike like vipers one moment, yet are as thick as thieves the next, couched in some arcane understanding afforded by mutual experience. The young could stand to learn from them. They trade silent bows with the Overlord of Pyrrhia, who is alone and melancholy as always. Perhaps he will be so until the end of the world. Zultanekh points out on a balcony the nemesor from the East, the one who oversaw their peace treaty, fanning himself slowly as if he's seen it all. Djoseras expresses some misgivings about his commoner vargard, not in that he's present but that he is idle, nestled faithfully by his master's side. "That may well be the nemesor's wish," Zultanekh suggests gently after they've passed by, for it did not escape his notice how content the pair looked. The Crown Prince has a generous heart for enjoyment. "Does heka preclude rest, Djoseras? No, it does not. He has every right to command it as much as he would action, and to do so tonight makes sense."

Djoseras sighs, exasperated. "They are too leisurely out here in the East, it is unorthodox; it shall be their detriment." What follows, however, is no moral judgement on the nemesor nor the vargard, but a surprisingly vulnerable confession. "I have thought... much about this peace of Szarekh's, in the time we have been apart. Doubtless he wishes for us to be at ease. The necrontyr have ever wished for a purpose, and it would not do to carry our many grudges into it. Yet I do worry about where that leaves us, whether in his pursuit of his great purpose he will erase all of ours. Will we remain how we were after this war? Or will we be subsumed - dissolved - vanished into this calling of the Silent King?"

"Might we not change but remain ourselves?" Zultanekh does not give much thought to those things. He's had the privilege of not needing to, it's true - it's not the Ogdobekh who are concerned about their independence, nor how to define themselves - but for most part, it is simply due to his easygoing nature, confident in every course Anathrosis set them upon. "If not for Szarekh's treaties, would Zultanekh have believed that he would one day walk the same road as the prince of Ithakas? To agree on peace was itself a shift in our ways of thought. Who's to say we cannot permit more?"

"But I do not wish to be changed. I should like to remain myself, thank you very much."

It is clear his answer displeases the kynazh, although he does not have the will to pursue it strongly. After all, it will be millions of years before Zultanekh will understand Djoseras envied him this night, and lamented he could not be the same. Djoseras pauses, his cheeks flushed with rare emotion (Zultanekh admires the height and curve of them quietly), before he glances up at Zultanekh and all is calm again. "I apologize, Prince Zultanekh. It's just that we have been shaped by war, my brother and I. Knowing that we go from there to another war, I..."

A lock of hair has fallen across his forehead, disturbing the surface. Zultanekh longs to brush it back for him. "I do not know whether to call that change, meaningfully speaking."

"If it would reassure you, I can say this much: between the old gods and fair Djoseras, Zultanekh knows whom he would rather have as his enemy. Is it not meaningful that the nature of the combatants is different?" Zultanekh smiles then, and bids the kynazh stand closer; there's a group of Nihilakh lords passing by. It's not quite hand-holding, but Djoseras does not refuse him when Zultanekh touches over his shoulder, which feels like victory enough. "Like you, I was forged by war. I am curious to see what follows it. Say that Szarekh has his way, that the Old Ones are defeated - will we choose peace again, or disorder? I do not know, but I am eager to find out."

"Eager?"

"Yes. Perhaps some day, you will see the excitement in it too."

[superfluouskeys]

ASKS hmmmmmmmm 5 / 8 / 20 ?

👀👀👀

I just need to say I love that these eye emojis are coming into my house sdkjnfjnkfknjf they're so big and for WHAT tumblr LOL! Saving 5 for the end so I can readmore the snippet!

8. Is there a story idea in your mental vault that you’ve never been brave enough to try writing? Is this the year? Can you tell us about it?

kjndfsnjkdfsknjfsd literally the only things I'm weird about writing are smut ideas okay!!! and they're not even that weird it's me i'm the problem!!!!!!!!! So idk, the LiandrinxReader fic will probably be a nice challenge for me on that front, and who knows, maybe this is the year the Hawkedith light bondage fic sees the light of day. oh actually you know what for a non-smut idea I've always wanted to do a tropey time travel fic! but i think i would make myself insane LOL. maybe this will be the year!!!

20. Any plans to work on original fiction this year?

OHOHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! It's honestly so hard to choose and prioritize what to work on!!! I have 2 big original ideas, both of which I have rambled at you about extensively LOL. I think I can make a good chunk of progress on the nano nonsense fic this year, since the style is pretty firmly in my wheelhouse and I have a pretty strong idea of the main plot through-line. We'll see how I'm feeling, but I think once I get a few of my lingering fanfic projects done I'll be ready to focus on my original things again! Month-long challenges like nano actually work really well for me when I can manage them, so I might try to do something like that eventually to make some significant progress!

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

Again, it's soooooo hard to choose and prioritize!!! Scorched earth is in general my top priority because I just don't want to drag it out too long--before the most recent time my schoolwork beat me to death w a stick I was under the delusion that I could have it almost finished by the new year LOL! But since it's fairly simple in structure and I have it pretty clearly planned out, I mostly write chapters in one or two sittings. Second priority is advancing/finishing ghost of you, since the next chapter is literally almost done, I just got too busy to work on it. But instead I shall offer youuuuu Liandrin x Reader nonsense! It is once again a long snippet because I cannot just be normal.

--

You heard a lot about Liandrin Sedai during your first year or two as a Novice.  There was a rumor, never confirmed but nonetheless ubiquitous, that a Novice had died under Liandrin’s tutelage not long before you had arrived.  As a result, she was no longer permitted to teach Novices.  Furthermore, it was suggested, Novices would do well to avoid her.  Reasons for this varied somewhat, from ‘lest they remind her of her very recent tragedy’ to ‘lest they become the next unwitting targets of her deadly ire.’

You’re sure you never saw her in all that time, though, and eventually you heard the story repeated less and less, only really trotted out when new students arrived to the White Tower.  You learned later that Liandrin had left the Tower for a long while after the incident of legend.  It’s common for sisters of the Red Ajah to take extended leave, and the unfortunate fate of the Novice in question had certainly not impeded her ability to perform the functions for which she is best-suited.

You have also learned since then that for every extended absence, there is a corresponding extended stay in the Tower, particularly for the powerful and influential.  Liandrin is quite popular, if perhaps controversial in some circles, and it has thus been impressed upon her how very much her talents are needed within these walls for the foreseeable future.

Nevertheless, you are nothing short of shocked to see her perched atop the teacher’s desk when you arrive for your afternoon lesson.  You glance out the window, perhaps to catch a glimpse of the dire emergency that must have incapacitated so many Aes Sedai that Liandrin has been deemed a suitable substitute.

Liandrin is technically allowed to teach Accepted students.  Technically.

Liandrin herself looks about as pleased as any of the Accepted.  She pays you no mind as you enter, her piercing gaze fixed on some imagined point on the far wall.  Her arms are folded, her lips are pursed, and it looks like she’s biting the inside of her cheek.  Given her storied reputation, this understandably puts most of the students ill at ease.

“No need to trickle in,” she says, so sharply that you notice a few students flinch.  “You’re all in the right place, I should think.  I am Liandrin Sedai, and I will be overseeing your practice for the afternoon.”

She says all of this as though each word causes her great distress, gaze still fixed somewhere above the students’ heads.

“I am unaccustomed to teaching, and it’s been a long while since I was Accepted, so you will have to forgive me my unfamiliarity,” she continues, but gives absolutely no impression that she is asking forgiveness for anything.  “Adeline Sedai was not generous enough to inform me which weaves you are currently studying.  Would anyone be so kind as to enlighten me?”

The room falls eerily silent.  You cast a surreptitious glance toward Briallyn, who is usually the sort to raise her hand at any opportunity.  She is gazing at Liandrin like she is something inhuman and incomprehensible.

You swallow your nerves and raise your hand.

Liandrin turns her head sharply.  “Yes?”

“Weaving Spirit,” you say, although your voice falters under her exacting gaze.

“Weaving Spirit,” she echoes with a mocking lilt, inclining her head and smiling with false sweetness.  “Could our esteemed little sister perhaps narrow it down, just a bit?”

You feel your cheeks flush hot.  “The basics, I mean,” you stammer.  “Just starting.”

Liandrin scoffs.  “I suppose I should have known better than to expect anything more than that,” she says with a theatrical sigh.  “What was our dear Adeline Sedai having you do, just…” she waves vaguely, “pick at threads of Spirit out of nowhere?  No direction, no purpose?  No wonder it’s taking so long.”

She points at you, and you nearly startle out of your skin.  “Come forward.  Since you’ve been kind enough to volunteer.”

You can hear a low whisper of fear starting up around you as you obey her command, feel the eyes of your fellow Accepted upon you although you keep your head bowed low.  You are shy and unused to this kind of attention.  You can feel your face flushing all the way up to your ears.

Liandrin is perfectly average in stature, yet somehow seems to tower over you through her presence alone.  She ducks her head to catch you eye, and now her subtle smile bears no tinge of mockery.  “Look,” she bids you, gesturing out toward the classroom.

You attempt, quite unsuccessfully, to swallow down your embarrassment.  You look.

“Your classmates are afraid of me,” Liandrin observes, with the kind of neutrality one expects of a particularly uninteresting weather forecast.  “No doubt you’ve all heard stories about me.  Or, should I say, one in particular?”

You glance surreptitiously in Liandrin’s direction.  Her eyes are alight with cruel amusement.  She is enjoying this.  She leans in toward the class, as though to share a secret.  “Let me assure you that what you’ve heard…is absolutely true.”

The whole class visibly recoils, and the frightened whispers culminate in horrified gasps, followed by a deafening silence.

“Look at your classmates,” says Liandrin.  “The same way you would look for threads of fire or water.  Look for their fear.”

A part of you considers that you can see their fear perfectly well without looking very closely at all.  Another part of you is preoccupied with the way Liandrin’s eyes light up watching people recoil from her.  But you know from experience that Liandrin has very little patience, and she will not be pleased if she has to repeat herself.

You tear your eyes away from Liandrin and look, focusing on the class as a whole rather than trying to stare at any one person.  You squint and tilt your head, think of the frightened whispers and all the different versions of Liandrin’s story you have heard repeated over the years.  Some of your classmates are much younger than you, and their precocious talents allowed them to graduate to the rank of Accepted sooner than most.  They must have heard the story of the Novice who died under Liandrin Sedai’s tutelage very recently, and they do not have the benefit of experience to tell them that Liandrin means them no actual harm.

You think you start to see it then, something red and wrong hanging about them, brighter in some places than in others.  On instinct you reach out to pull at the threads.

You are not a talented channeler.  Threads do not respond well or quickly to your beckoning.  But the threads do come to you, slowly, and in this aspect alone, Liandrin is endlessly patient.

“A useful trick, to draw upon strong emotion,” says Liandrin.  Her words are for the benefit of the class, but she speaks quietly, and she is standing close enough to you that her voice makes you shiver.  “Spirit is that which is not strictly tangible, and yet you can feel it, can’t you, when there is a room full to the brim with terror?”

You can see the change in some students then, the ones who understand that this was, at least in part, a play upon their emotions in an unusual effort to educate.  You see the shift not in their faces but in the threads you are attempting to weave, a subtle change in the color and shape as fear gives way to confusion, or brightens into excitement.

You can’t help but wonder what others see, when they look at the color and shape of your own emotions.

New Year Fanfic Asks!

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

every now and then I go through my WIPs deciding what I want to work on and stumble across this snippet again, killing me instantly

“Ceara, I just want to ask you about something, and I’d really appreciate it if you could be straight with me for a change.” “Darling,” Ceara replied with a smug, mischievous wink, “You know I’m not straight.” “Ceara.” One breath in, one breath out. Pirkko resisted the urge to kick her under the table. It took much more willpower than she’d like to admit. “Come now,” chuckled the elder sylvari with a flourish, “You walked right into that one~! But, fine.” She settled onto the table, crossing both arms under her chin leisurely. She wasn’t actually at ease, but anyone who didn’t know Ceara well enough may well have fallen for it. “Go on, then. Out with it. What do you want to ask?”

anyway consider that your confirmation that the Scarlet/Ceara of Regrowth and Flourish AU is literally anything other than straight

[miabrown007]

5, 9, and 22 for the new year fanfic asks!

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

so, I already answered this because I shan't shut up about Heist AU, but I do have a half-written one-shot I want to finish. draft title: will write funny break-up fics until my friends start to believe me when I say I'm writing funny break-up fics

Marinette has been warned about rock stars. Everyone has told her to be careful and vigilant, because they play the field and drop hearts like fine china. She has been told all about shadowy backstages and crazy afterparties, about eager interns and manly whimsies, about the duties of a girlfriend— better yet, a fiancé! Marinette has, of course, thought all of that a load of crap. But in their endavour of preparing her to be the proper eye-candy on the side on an up and coming musician, no one has warned Marinette about silence. About the pauses growing colder and the embraces shorter, about date nights disappearing in the rear view mirror of all-nighters. No one has warned Marinette about Life, and about what a sojourn to the French reviera would really mean. Luka Couffaine wasn’t the type of man to cheat on his girlfriend. It just— sort of happened.

9. Short term goals… what do you hope to complete this week or in January?

already answered here

22. Do you plan to take writing classes this year?

I would like to!! I tried to find and sneak into university classes this semester, but those were mostly history, literature, and academic writing. Maybe I should take a weekend-course or something, we'll see if I can find one with good reviews. In the meantime, I am procrastinating on watching Neil Gaiman and Brandon Sanderson's online classes, so maybe I should start with that.

[poulpemou]

Erhlock: A name, huh? Not sure if this should be left up to me. (beat) Then, how about Alexander? I've always liked it. Child: (cocks head) Alexander? Erhlock: Yes. A name to denote greatness. Your father taught Classics. Did he ever tell you of Alexander the Great? Child: (beat) No. Erhlock: Well, that can be a lesson for another day. His name is synonymous with greatness and brilliance in popular culture now. Etymologically, it means "protector of men." It's a rather popular name. What do you think? Child: Okay. Erhlock: I'll let Roger know then. We can call you Alex for short–– Child: (interrupting, clutching at hem of Erhlock's shirt) A. Erhlock: (surprised beat) A? Child: Like L. (Long beat. Child shrinks a little from the silence, still clutching at Erhlock's shirt. Erhlock considers him.) Erhlock: Like L. I see. The name truly suits you, then. (Child's eyes widen.) Erhlock: Alexander, A for short. (smiles) Well, it is very nice to meet you, A. Child: (smiles back shyly) Erhlock: Let's go get the paperwork settled with Roger, shall we?

[starlit-clouds]

I hought I would finish this fic way sooner than I would, but alas August passed and it was not done then

On the bright side, I finally completed it!

Gonna post it soon after editing it, but imma do that in the morning because it is midnight for me and I am weak. But! I can give a sneak peek!

It’s called “Siblings in Spirit (And Paperwork)” and it has ALL of that Dad Fukuzawa(TM) content and contains PEAK Ranpo and Yosano sibling bonding. I’ll put a short snippet it under the cut that I was going to use parts of for the summary anyways!

————————

Word count: roughly 793

Timeline: Ranpo and Yosano are 15/16 and 14/15 respectively in this

—

“You should do it.”

“No way!” Ranpo protested immediately. He gestured widely towards the door to Fukuzawa’s office. While the glass was frosted in a way that he couldn’t see too far inside, he knew Fukuzawa was sitting at his desk. “You should do it!”

Yosano put her hands on her hips. “No. You.”

“No! You!”

“No. Y—” Yosano cut herself off and paused, thinking for a moment. “You know what? We’re getting nowhere with this. I say we both need to calm down and talk this through again.”

“‘We both need to calm down’? Yeah, right. I’m the one who’s being rational here. I think you need to take a moment to think things through.”

“Oh?” She crossed her arms. “And why do you think that?”

“Because you wrote the papers in the first place. So since you’re the one who wrote them, that means you should give them to him.” Ranpo the pointed to the papers in Yosano’s hand. “Plus, you’re already holding them.”

She huffed and shoved the papers into Ranpo’s hands. He was forced to grab onto them to prevent them from falling onto the floor. He attempted to force her to take them back, but when that failed, he settled for simply glaring at her.

“Those reasons don’t even make any sense. If we’re really going by who did what, then you should be the one to give him the papers,” Yosano reasoned. “I already did the work by writing them. You can do your part by giving them to him. It’s only fair.”

“But it’s not about what’s fair,” Ranpo claimed. He had started to try and give Yosano the papers back. He was failing. “It’s about what we need to do for the plan to work. And believe me, it absolutely pains me to say this but…” Ranpo’s tone indicated anything but. “It would be a thousand times better if you were the one to do it.”

“Now you’re just making things up. It would be better if you gave them to him.”

Ranpo stared at Yosano. “No. You.”

“No.” Yosano stared back at him. “We are not going back to that.”

“Yes, we are.”

“No.”

“Yes. And I think you should be the one to do it.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“You were here first,” Yosano blurted out.

“No— wait. What do you mean?” He squinted at her suspiciously. “What exactly is the point you're trying to make there?”

“Well, you’ve known Fukuzawa for longer than me. Obviously it would be better if you were the one who gave him the papers.”

“Yeah, but the whole point of this is that he doesn’t know what they’re for until it’s too late for him to change his mind, so we don’t need the emotional manipulation of me doing it,” Ranpo pointed out. “We’re meant to be discreet. Which really means you should be doing it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You’re normally the one who gives him all of the paperwork, so it would be suspicious if I was suddenly giving him papers to sign.”

Yosano stared at him. And stared. And stared some more.

She was still staring as she glared and took the papers from Ranpo’s hands.

Ranpo cheered. “Ha ha! Yeah, that’s right! You’re the one who’s doing it!”

Yosano glared even harder before she ignored him by turning to face the door. As she entered, Ranpo leaned up against the door with his ear pressed up against it.

Fukuzawa looked up as she entered. “Yes?”

“I have some documents you need to sign. Preferably as soon as possible. As well as while I watch,” Yosano stated as she strolled towards Fukuzawa’s desk.

She watched him closely as she put the documents in front of him. She flipped through some of the pages before she reached the end, pointing to a box at the end of the page.

“Sign right here. Please,” she added after a moment.

Fukuzawa picked up the papers and flipped them back to the front.

“Wait! What are you doing?!” Yosano quickly snatched the papers away from him.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m reading them over?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she rushed, absolutely not suspiciously at all. “You can just sign them without reading them.”

‘I’m pretty sure I should read documents before I sign them,” Fukuzawa said, sounding somewhat amused.

“Uhhh…” Time seemed to freeze as Yosano saw Fukuzawa begin to look back at the documents. And then she panicked. “I’m going to go now!” She announced. “And I’m taking these with me!”

Before Fukuzawa could read what the documents were about, she clutched them close to her chest and she whipped around to the door. She quickly hurried out of the room before things could get too awkward.

—

Or: Ranpo and Yosano try to trick Fukuzawa to sign adoption papers without him finding out until they’re already in effect. This goes as well as it could be expected.

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49812589

[starsstuddedsky]

it’s so strange to be finished with as a matter of fact… i started writing it all the way back in november and so much in my own life has changed since then, it’s kind of insane

[cescalr]

so close to just trimming out all the shit i never got around to editing for that one stiles amv and posting what remains as is 

audio link mentioned in tags: wrong

[csainzoperator]

college bf! f1 drivers pt 1 ☆

summary: college bf! f1 drivers text messages with small written snippets based on the texts :)

warnings: fem pronouns, kys jokes, cursing, mentions of kissing, kissing, slightly suggestive, nicknames (baby, babe, love), typos (?)

read more below the cut !

charles leclerc

you grab a can of grape soda and search for a place to sit. you find a corner near the window, the fresh spring breeze rustling your hair. you sit down and wait patiently for charles. a few minutes later he's walking inside the canteen, towards you. he's smiling big and as soon as he reaches you, he grabs your face, placing chaste kisses on your cheek and lips.

"hey, baby" he greets you. you smile and reply "hi"

he takes a seat beside you and raises his eyebrows, like he's waiting for you to do something. you raise your eyebrows in return. he grumbles out a few words which you cannot decipher. you nudge him softly as you ask him to repeat. "i didn't get my kiss!" he says, rolling his eyes playfully.

"oh you big baby" you say as you grab his face a drop a few kisses on his cheek. your lipstick staining his cheek. you caress his cheek to wipe it away. "happy?" you question him. he nods, "very. afterall, i ditched my class to be here with you."

your smile fades a bit, feeling a little guilty as you had called him so abruptly. you shove him playfully, making him stand up "go back, the class would've just started. you can still make it"

he frowns. he shakes his head, "its not an important class, he's just doing some revision."

"revision is important! i just needed to see my boyfriend for a little boost. i'm good now. go!"

he reluctantly lets go. he places a kiss on your forehead and promises to come visit your dorm later in the evening. you smile up at him and reach for your soda, only to see it in charles' hand. he gives you a wink as he leaves, taking a sip from the can.

carlos sainz

the game had just ended, and you were so incredibly proud of your boyfriend. he had scored a goal for the team. the winning goal. you smiled in excitement, waiting for the team to let go of your boyfriend so you can congratulate him. he spots you standing nearby and excuses himself from his team mates. he walks over to you, picking you up as he reaches you.

you yelp in surprise and hold onto him tight. wrapping your arms around his neck, laughing. "congrats, baby. that was amazing!" he smiles brightly, kissing your cheek. "thank you, mia cara" he says. he puts you down gently and wraps his arms around you.

"you came" he says, kissing the side of your forehead.

"i wouldn't be anywhere else"

after a few seconds, you swat him away. "look at all that sweat. ugh get away from me" you complain, rolling your eyes playfully

he picks you up again, walking towards his car. "put me down, you sick fuck" you wrap your arms around him as he fastens his pace, making you laugh. "now i'm all sweat"

"gives us another reason to shower together" he says, a slight smirk making its way onto his face.

lewis hamilton

you pick your phone up as soon as you're done showering and putting on some comfortable clothes. you click on the face time button and set your phone up on the bed, pillows as the support. you wait for lewis to pick, which doesn't take long as he picks up in a couple of rings.

you smile at him "what's up, princess?" the words slip past you automatically, like you've said this to him a thousand times. which you have.

he grunts in mock annoyance. "come save me, i'm stuck here" he says, his face showing how he hated being in that party. you could hear loud snarky music in the background.

"i wish i could, i left my car for service" you smile at him apologetically. he groans and starts walking towards a balcony of some sort, or an open space. it was much more peaceful. you could hear him more clearly now.

"will you please stay with me on ft for a while? until my room mate decides to leave. which will be soon because he's drunk out of his mind." he says, sitting down on a stool. the night breeze making him shiver.

you spoke for a few minutes until his friend decided to leave. lewis said he'd be near your dorm after dropping his mate in the room. he said he desperately needed your hug.

george russell

you shared your live location with george. you were currently walking towards your dorm. you felt his strong cologne engulf you before his arms did. you smile as you walk with george, his arm draped around your waist. "well, hello there" you amuse.

"don't you ever scare me like that. do you know how much i died on the inside?" he questions you, giving your waist a squeeze. you kiss his cheek, hoping to calm his nerves. "i told you, baby! i fell asleep in the library. ms sanders woke me up. i was exhausted after that 12 page essay"

"its okay, i know. you need to rest, love. did you eat yet?" he questions, as you both enter your dorm.

you shake your head, "i had breakfast, slept through lunch"

he looks at you like you've grown two heads. he grabs your hand and starts walking towards the exit. you let out a chuckle "now where are we headed to, girl?"

he looks at you, giving you a mock glare. "girl? what happened to bf, love, baby, cutie?"

he tells you to wait near the exit. a few minutes later, he's there with his bike. he motions for you to hop on. you smile as you get on, getting comfortable behind him. "we are getting some food into that stomach of yours" he says, handing you your helmet.

you wrap your arms around his torso. you knew. you knew, even if he had the most important thing to do, he would drop it to look after you. not because you were his girlfriend. but because you were his priority. because you were important. and he was deeply, madly, desperately, messily in love with you.

max verstappen

you were in your university park, sitting under a tree. the guy you were supposed to be doing your political science project was doing anything but the project. you were not a patient person, and it was getting harder as the guy even kept touching your shoulder now and then.

to your rescue, your boyfriend was right there. he walked towards the both of you. he took his seat next to you, giving the guy a timid 'pls fuck of soon' smile. he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. he sat there as you guys actually started to discuss your project.

the guy clearly didn't get the hint as he still tried to make contact with you now and then. the third time, max was done with all the utter bullshit that he was witnessing. he pulled you closer to him

"you know, i would really like it if you got your stupid ass hand off my girl" he says, making the guy frown in annoyance. within seconds, the guy is scurrying off.

you let out a delayed laugh. you look up at max. he shrugs, giving you an innocent smile. "you can't actually say that, max!"

he kisses your forehead, whispering "i just did, baby."

he brushes your arm near the place where the guy touched you. "what are you doing?" you question.

"dusting off his filthiness from you. maybe we should get back to my dorm. shower the filthiness off after i watch you finish on my face." he offers his reply. you shove him playfully. "you're the filthy one"

he stares, kissing your lips softly, mumbling, "you make me."

the end

an: had so much fun making these. hope u enjoy!

[satoruxx]

SAUDADE.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 3.7k words

✧ SUMMARY: canon au, set after geto leaves so lots of unresolved feelings, alternate between past and present, megumi and tsumiki cameo, satoru has a raging crush on you but you're blind, suguru also had a raging crush on you but you were still blind, slight angst bc canon jjk events, lots of longing on suguru's end, you're confused af, satoru PINES for you and shoko is so tired of him, but overall very fluffy

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: will i ever publish the actual canon au? who knows. this fic is written in that same au but it's just a snippet of their lives. if you've read angel on my shoulder, just know that's an alternate ending of this au where reader dies lol. but this is very sweet bc you don't die !! you and satoru love each other lots but suck at showing it. happy valentine's day everyone <33

you glance at satoru's giddy smile, wariness creeping up your shoulders before turning to shoko. "what's wrong with him?" you ask, shifting slightly from where you're leaning against one of balconies of jujutsu high.

"who knows?" she sighs, eyes flickering up to glance at the snowy haired sorcerer just barely before they turn back to you. "ignore him."

"hey!" satoru huffs, walking closer to sling an arm around your shoulder—casual, like it's something he doesn't have to think about. you grumble under the extra weight, shooting him a glare, but he's too busy smiling like he's up to something.

"so…" he grins down at you, eyes shining and full of mischief. "know what day it is today?"

you blink at him, trying to scour your brain. "what's the date again?"

satoru gives you a blank stare, before sighing heavily. "god you're slow. it's february 14th, stupid."

"oh," you reply blankly, relaxing because it's nothing inherently important. "so valentine's day?"

satoru's smile comes back full force—cheeky and blinding. "exactly! and when i went shopping today guess what happened?"

"what happened?" shoko asks boredly, shaking her head when she makes eye contact with you.

"well," he drags out the word, crossing his arms like he's pleased with himself. "i was walking along after picking up some sweets because—"

"because you have an addiction," you supplement, and satoru pauses to glare down at you, reaching out to flick a long finger against your forehead.

"it's not an addiction! and don't interrupt me! anyways—"

you smother a smile that shoko mirrors.

"—i was walking and then these two girls came up to me all smiley. like they were giggling and shit, right?"

"uh huh."

"and they started going on and on about how i was the most handsome guy they've ever seen. and then they asked how come i was walking around by myself on valentine's day."

you blink, suddenly feeling a strange mix of interest and irritation.

"so i told them that it's not really my thing and that i didn't have anyone to celebrate with anyway. and then they said it was actually a crime that someone like me was single on valentine's day."

you have to suppress a roll of your eyes, though you're not sure why.

"so basically the moral of the story is that i'm extremely charming and super good-looking too! and that girls love me!"

he looks at you, eyes scrutinizing your expression as you glance at shoko, unimpressed.

"that's it? that's your crazy story?"

"well you guys always say i'm full of it when i call myself hot! now i have proof that it's a universal truth!"

"well we're not stupid—" shoko rolls her eyes, hugging her arms to push away the cold as she leans against the railing. "—we know you're freakishly hot. you're just obnoxious and we like teasing you."

"ugh." satoru rolls his eyes, huffing as he stretches his joints. "you guys are ridiculous. and—"

he pauses, an odd expression crossing his face as he blinks in thought. then he's turning to you with the most smug smirk you've ever seen on him. "wait. you think i'm hot?"

you frown, lips parting in mild confusion. "huh?"

"that's what shoko just said. that you think i'm freakishly hot."

your brows shoot up, an unfamiliar rush of heat crawling up your skin. "but she said both of us! like it's just something that's obvious. i mean as long as you have eyes anyone can see—"

"oh so it's obvious, is it?" satoru's expression is oddly giddy, a pink flush settling high on his cheekbones.

you gape at him, suddenly speechless. you don't remember satoru ever having the ability to make you speechless before.

you can't comprehend the stirring in your chest—uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

"you—" you scoff, reaching up to shove him away. "you're full of shit. doesn't change no matter how hot you are."

shoko has gone quiet, eyes darting between you and satoru with an uncharacteristic glint of curiosity. but satoru's gaze does not stray away from you, pearly whites on full display as he licks his lips. he doesn't say anything else, running his fingers through his hair.

"sure sure," satoru hums—pleased. "whatever you say."

you throw shoko an exasperated glare, and she shakes her head, though there is a shine of amusement in her eyes—like she knows something that you don't.

"i mean, they were right you know?" satoru ponders, leaning back against the railing. "why aren't we doing something fun today? we used to go out and buy a shit ton of chocolate back when—"

he stops, expression going sour, before disappearing all together. there is a clear absence, one that the three of you notice but try not to linger on.

("valentine's day?" suguru had asked years ago, glancing down at you with a smile. "you like it?"

"definitely not," you reply, cheeks warming as you fiddle with the sugared churros in your hand, unable to look at him. "what's so great about a day where couples spend a shit ton of money on each other to make the rest of us singles feel miserable?"

a muted chuckle, and when you look up suguru's eyes are shining with mirth. "i'm sure you wouldn't think that if you weren't single."

"i guess," you huff, glancing at the sidewalk. your face feels like it's on fire—but suguru has always had that effect on you. "not very likely to happen though."

the expression suguru throws you will linger in your mind until the day you die. "what do you mean?" he asks—incredulous, like you were speaking nonsense. he stops in his tracks, the busy streets bustling around him as you continue to walk.

you take a bite of your churro, glancing back at him with clear confusion. "huh? oh i just meant me dating someone is unlikely," you shrug, though suguru looks speechless, lips parted and eyes wide behind dark bangs.

"why on earth do you say that?" he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. he seems to visibly shake off his initial shock to continue walking, and you patiently wait for him to rejoin your side—he does.

"i don't know," you say, somewhat bashfully because you don't usually talk about these things with him. "do you really think there's room for things like that in our lives?"

"do you?" he counters, and you're too busy formulating your answer to notice that he's oddly interested, eyes continuously darting over your face.

"i mean, it'd be great if there was," you ponder, taking another quick bite. "it'd be nice to be able to settle down with someone even after all the crap we've gone through."

"right…" suguru seems to nod along with you, matching your steps even with his longer stride.

"but—" you stress. "considering that most of us are too traumatized or dead by that time, i don't have much faith."

you laugh at your own statement, but there isn't much amusement in it at all. putting it into words makes you truly realize how shitty your lives are even at such a young age.

your mind drifts to the cerulean eyed sorcerer who's currently off in a different city, being made to fight because he is god on earth in a seventeen year old body. it drifts to a brown haired girl who sits, secluded in a room as bodies are sent to her on a conveyor belt, her hands outstretched to feel blood and gore and horror day in and day out. then it drifts to the boy who is most like you, the one with the dark bangs who rationalizes this pain, this service you have devoted yourselves to with the need to do good for others—because there is no other explanation for why you have to go through this.

the same boy who takes your answer in critically, eyes heavy with an oddly somber sheen. he doesn't say anything, thinking hard, and you focus on eating your churro because you've never once found silence with suguru to be uncomfortable.

you are halfway finished when he breaks it.

"well…" suguru's voice is oddly high, a tick of nerves that doesn't usually infiltrate his calm tone. "if there was room for it, what would a good valentine's day look like for you?"

you laugh, loud and unfiltered, and suguru's skin flushes at the sound.

"i don't know!" your laughter dies down into hushed giggles. "i can't think of anything. besides this is stupid as hell!"

"indulge me," he says quietly, and when you turn to look up at him he's staring at you deeply—eyes hooded and smile gone. you suddenly feel oddly parched as heat crawls up your neck.

"um—" you swallow, the churro in your hand forgotten as you glance at the sidewalk again. "i-i'm not sure. i've really never thought that much about it."

"would you want flowers?" he asks. you suddenly become acutely aware that his voice has gone lower, throaty and deep in a way that sends chills up your spine.

you shake your head quietly, somehow nervous to look at him. "it makes me sad that they die off in a few days. better to keep them planted than cut them for a bouquet."

a quiet huff of laughter—fond and nostalgic. "that's on par for you. very in-character."

you lick your lips, tasting the sugar from the treat in your hand. "i guess…maybe i'd like chocolates?"

"chocolates?" suguru repeats, like he's surprised. you don't know why his reaction has you stumbling, but you shake your head quickly, appalled that you're even telling him this in the first place.

"i mean—it's not a big deal or anything! even just a small box of them would do! i don't really care anyway—"

"i would've guessed you'd like a plushie or something along those lines." he hums, a small smile stretching across his face. there's a dust of color blooming across his cheekbones, and you think he looks unfairly charming.

"that's good too!" you reply, too quickly, before catching yourself and ducking your head. "i mean…i don't know. plushies are really cute. i think they'd be a cute gift."

there's a beat of silence, and when you look up suguru is smiling at you like you've just put the stars in the sky for him. he hums to himself, eyes darting around the streets and looking much more at ease than he did a few minutes prior. you find yourself unable to look away.

"what would you want?" the words escape before you can stop them.

"me?" he asks, tilting his head in mild surprise.

"yeah. what would you want for valentine's day?"

suguru blanches, gaze darting over your facial features with shocking speed. it lingers on your eyes, before flickering downward, then shooting back up. you're trying to trace them but they're too fast, and he shuts them before you can process anything. he keeps his eyes closed as you curiously await his answer.

to this day you don't quite understand what he meant.

"anything i can get," he answers with a rueful smile, shaking his head at you fondly. his eyes bore into yours with an intensity you've never seen before. "anything at all.")

a familiar voice tickles your ear amongst the silence even now, and you rub your palms together. you can feel satoru's gaze on you, trailing over your expression—searching, analyzing.

you let him—used to it.

"that's enough of that for now. plus don't the two of you have to go check on the kids today?" shoko asks, eyeing the two of you pointedly. her voice has a strain to it, one that you can only pick up because you've known her so long. but you're grateful for the change in subject as you glance at satoru, who checks his phone.

"ah shit. they should be back from school by now but we were supposed to pick up some groceries beforehand," he mutters under his breath before looking down at you. "you wanna head over there first and i'll go get some stuff?"

"sure," you reply, patting shoko's shoulder in farewell. satoru steps closer, digging into his pockets before dropping the apartment keys into your palm. he pushes his shades up the bridge of his nose, eyes trailing over your face like he's searching for something, and yet you can't make out what.

a beat of silence.

"d-don't forget to get some of those cookies tsumiki said she liked last time." you drop the keys into your bag and shrug off the odd feeling of this conversation—something strange that you don't feel like looking into because you're scared of what you'll find out about yourself.

satoru's eyes go soft, a mixture of somber and affectionate, and he smiles easily. "you got it." he reaches out to ruffle your hair, licking his lips as he heads for the door. "see you later."

you watch him go, and think that you'd rather have him by your side. but you keep that to yourself—so used to sewing your mouth shut.

("which do you want?" you ask satoru, who peers at the shelves over your shoulder. his close proximity does nothing to you, but he seems oddly giddy when he glances at your side profile.

"hmm, the white chocolate," he answers, low and hushed, like it's meant only for you to hear. you can feel the energy radiating off of him—can feel it shake your very soul.

"okay," you reply, reaching up for the box, but satoru beats you to it. he stretches up, towering over you and you shoot him an playful glare. he had gotten a growth spurt over the holidays and wouldn't let you forget it.

"aw this is so sweet of you," he teases, excited and all too pleased. you roll your eyes, hiding a smile.

"you're the one who's been bugging us for valentine's day chocolate."

"like it wasn't a good idea," he counters with a grin. "even if we're all single we should still get chocolate."

you snort in amusement, before turning to call out across the aisle. "suguru which one should i get you?"

the dark haired male meets your gaze, and the warmth of it sends a tickle through your stomach. he shakes his head with a gentle smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. "don't worry about it. you know i'm not big on sweets anyway."

you deflate—he smiles at you like he's happy you asked.

"you can give me his share," satoru interjects with a playful smirk, pressing his palm into your shoulder. you shake your head in exasperation.

"no way. i'm still going to get him something." your eyes dart across the shelves, before you reach up and pull down a box of unsweetened chocolates, tied with a red ribbon. "this should be good."

satoru eyes the box, and you glance at him. "suguru would like these right?"

"yeah," he shrugs, before crossing his arms. "as long as they aren't crazy sweet. he hates sweet stuff."

"okay good. then i'll get him these!" your smile stretches wide, and it doesn't go unnoticed.

"you're being awfully thoughtful today," satoru comments. you look at him quickly, quirking a brow.

"well i can't just get you one. you're not my only friend." you shoot back.

satoru grins. "guess that's true."

his arm takes its position around your shoulder as you head towards the counter.

"you were really particular about getting suguru something though. any special reason?" he pipes up, and you immediately go still, looking at him as you try to bite back an uncharacteristic surge of panic.

"of course not! i got something for everyone. i even got shoko the rum and raisin chocolates." you say quickly, fighting the urge to crumble under satoru's implications. "besides this was all your idea anyway!"

you dig into your wallet, pulling out exact change and smiling at the cashier, who puts all of your chocolates into a bag. you decide you'll gift them later, when you're in the comfort of the dorm.

"okay let's leave—" you pause when you turn around, breath catching.

because satoru is staring at you, an odd expression on his face. there's something behind his eyes—realization mixed with another emotion you can't quite place.

you're not sure if the expression excites you or scares you.)

you don't expect tsumiki to be so excited when you push open the door. she bounds out of her small bedroom, practically tripping over herself as she chants your name over excited giggles.

"hey kiddo, how was school?" you smile as she throws her arms around your waist. you pat her hair, making a mental note to take her for a haircut sometime soon.

"good! my friends gave me some chocolates today!" she's giddy as she says this, and you smile playfully.

"oh yeah? any boys?"

she immediately flusters at your quirked brow and teasing grin. "of course not!"

you laugh, patting her head again as you take a seat on the couch. "okay okay! where's your brother?"

you don't see the dark haired nine-year-old anywhere. normally he'd be doing his homework at the kitchen table—so much more diligent than you ever were at that age.

"he's in his room," tsumiki answers, and your eyes catch the sneaky bit of amusement in her face.

"doing what?" you ask curiously. she smothers a smile, shrugging.

"i'm not sure." she raises her voice to call out. "megumi! she's here!"

you can hear him grumbling down the hall, hear his little footsteps padding across the floor—affection swells within you.

you think back to the day satoru dragged you to meet him, and you internally remind yourself to thank him.

"hey gumi." you offer the kid a smile, though it falters when you notice the way his hands are hiding behind his back even as he mumbles a quiet greeting in return. "what's wrong?"

"i…" his voice catches, and you notice the heavy pink flush crawling up his neck and into his cheeks. "i just wanted to…"

he trails off again, and tsumiki nudges him discreetly. "just do it!" she whispers, not all that quietly. your eyes dart between them in confusion, and megumi tries to sink into his sweater's collar.

"megumi what's wrong? are you okay?" there's a note of concern you can't keep from your voice, and tsumiki gently pushes him closer to you. "did something happen?"

"no…" he mumbles, attempting to hide his face even more. "i just wanted to…give…"

you blink owlishly. "give…?"

megumi lets out an exasperated huff, brows pinching helplessly before thrusting his arms into your line of sight. "here!"

your lips part. in his little hands are a box of chocolates and a small stuffed bear.

"this is…" you trail off, taking them from his hands.

"he wanted to give you something for valentine's day! to show you how much he appreciates you!" tsumiki interjects, practically bouncing on her feet.

"no i didn't! it's just chocolates stop making it sound like such a big deal!" megumi immediately snaps, glaring at his sister. you can practically see his cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you think you will never stop caring for this kid. there's a tickle of a distant memory—small fists clenched around a backpack and deep green eyes that stare up at you in childish apprehension.

those same green eyes now sneak glances at you, assessing your reaction, and you decide to put him out of his misery.

"this is so sweet megumi. thank you!" you smile at him gratefully, touched beyond recognition. your heart swells with affection once more.

megumi shoves his hands into his pockets, a stubborn pout on his face that makes the fat of his cheeks look that much more endearing. "whatever, it's not a big deal."

tsumiki shoots him a glare, before turning to you with a wide smile. "he says that but he was really excited to get you something!"

megumi gapes at her, eyes going wide in betrayal before they narrow. "shut up! besides it was gojo-san who gave me the idea!"

you blink, before smiling somewhat gingerly. though there is a strange sort of satisfaction in you when you hear those words—the mention of satoru's name. as detached as he tries to remain, you know all too well how much more there is to his character.

"i thought gojo-san would suggest flowers," tsumiki ponders, reaching out to squish the little bear before looking at you curiously. "aren't flowers a typical gift to get someone for valentine's day?"

you shrug, smiling carelessly. "i guess so. but i'm glad he didn't because i don't really like flowe—"

it hits you. echoes of a conversation that occurred many many winters ago. it washes over you, a refreshing tide that cools your skin and tickles your face.

of course, it made sense now that you thought about it. there were no secrets between satoru and suguru after all.

a chime cuts through the silence. you glance down at your phone to see a casual text from the snowy haired wonderboy who has been by your side since the beginning, and you can't help but smile.

i'll be home in a minute :P

a promise that has remained constant all these years.

so you type back.

hurry back. waiting for you.

you smile to yourself, heart thudding heavily against your ribcage. "hm."

tsumiki quirks a brow. "what?"

"nothing," you shake your head, wetting your lips as you reach down to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. she smiles at you, stars in her eyes, and you think you'll remember that smile forever. "i was just thinking."

"about what?" megumi can't stop the curiosity from seeping into his voice as he peers at you. you grin, gently patting his head with the bear plushie and laughing when he swats you away.

"valentine's day," you answer, smiling at them as you stand up to head to the door. you already know who's about to knock. "i was just thinking that it's not too bad of a holiday."

[my-castles-crumbling]

hiss - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 247

When Regulus finally finds James in the library at the end of a very long day, he's not thrilled to see the older boy isn't alone.

It's not abnormal. James has so many friends. But it's still jarring. And to make matters worse, his study companion is one Lily Evans.

Of course, there's nothing wrong with Evans. She's sweet. Kind. Beautiful. Her ginger hair frames her face in a way that makes her look ethereal and her eyes are always full of understanding and love. Which is exactly why Regulus feels ill seeing James with her. Because as he watches his boyfriend laugh and speak animatedly with her, a little voice in the back of his head hisses: He belongs with her. He shouldn't be with you.

But as he walks closer despite himself, he finally picks up on a snippet of their conversation.

"....and honestly, I think Reg's the one, Lils. I don't want to scare him off, but he's bloody brilliant, you know?"

And Regulus's jaw drops. Because somehow, James's eyes are lighting up as he speaks, his hands flying and his smile as bright as the sun while he talks with the most beautiful girl in his year because he's speaking about him.

It doesn't make sense. It shouldn't be possible.

But after standing there for a moment, completely surprised, he decides to allow the insanity. Because James Potter is the best thing that's ever happened to him, and he's not going to question it.