#funnily enough the only reason i found this was because i was digging through the nights into dreams wiki

[shadowiie]

[samasmith23]

Evangelion: You Can (Not) Marathon — (Part 4)

Neon Genesis Evangelion, “Episode 4: Rain, After Running Away/Hedgehog's Dilemma”

Continuing my Evangelion re-watch marathon with NGE, "Episode 4: Rain, After Running Away/Hedgehog's Dilemma"! For my thoughts on the previous episode, click the link to the post below:

With that out of the way, let's dig in! I’m especially excited to revisit this episode as this was always one of my personal favorite episodes from the series!

I love Misato’s dialogue when she reacts to seeing Shinji’s room completely empty with only his ID card and a letter on his desk: “*Sigh...* He’s run away… I’m not surprised…”

Even without reading the goodbye letter, Misato immediately realizes what is going on because she and Shinji truly are similar when it comes to their loneliness and desire to run away from the rest of the world.

This whole montage of Shinji wandering aimlessly back-&-forth around Tokyo-3 and the Japanese countryside perfectly encapsulates the major reason why this episode in particular has always stood out among my personal favorites: namely it’s ability to effectively communicate so much information about Shinji’s character primarily through visual storytelling and with little to no dialogue!

Elements like Shinji going back-&-forth on the looped train station while repeatedly listening to tracks 25 & 26 on his cassette radio convey Shinji’s lack of motivation and finding escapism through repetition, the scene of him witnessing two people kiss in the movie theater (the film is a dramatized retelling of Second Impact funnily enough) highlight Shinji’s simultaneous desire for and aversion towards having intimate relationships and physical contact with others, the pink-filter scene of Shinji feeling overwhelmed by the sight of Toyko-3 and subsequent leaving to the countryside represents Shinji’s fear of the pressure of responsibility and desire to run away from pain, while him coincidentally encountering Tokyo-3 again on the mountainside is reminiscent of Shinji’s inability to truly run away as he keeps coming back to piloting the EVA in order to find some purpose in life, and the image of Shinji sitting by the cliffside is reflective of his suicidal ideation since the landscape is visually based off the real-life Owakudani area which is sadly well-known for its high suicide rates.

Interestingly though, series' creator Hideaki Anno has stated before that a defining feature of Shinji's character is that, "he is a boy who doesn't even have the courage to kill himself."

And it is here where I feel its appropriate to address a major elephant in the room when it comes to analyzing anything Evangelion-related. Specifically, in addition to being reflective of Anno's own personal struggles with depression, EVA as a series simultaneously functions as a meta-critique of the Japanese otaku subculture. For those who aren't aware, "otaku" essentially somewhat functions as a Japanese synonym for a nerd or geek with obsessive interests. In his essay "おたく / Otaku / Geek," Morikawa Kaichirō argues that "contemporary usage of the word otaku [originating] in an essay titled 'A Study of Otaku' that appeared in the June 1983 edition of Manga Burikko, an erotic manga magazine [by] Nakamori Akio (1)." Following the infamous 1989 otaku murders in which an anime fan named Tstusmo Miyazaki killed 4 young girls, Kaichirō elaborates that otaku evolved into a pejorative shorthand for "person who has retreated into a fantasy world, unable to tell the difference between reality and illusion, and is sexually attracted to small children (8)."

Concerning Evangelion, both Anno and the other founding members of Studio Gainax were pioneering members of otaku subculture within the anime industry, but during the production of his previous anime, Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water, Anno fell into a four-year-long struggle with severe depression and became increasingly introspective and critical about the certain elements of otaku lifestyle which he grew to hate about himself and others. While Anno today openly embraces the more positive aspects of his otaku identity, during the mid-to-late 90s Anno's clinical depression and growing disenchantment with otaku significantly influenced the overall narrative and themes of the franchise. This is supported by an interview from the 1997 Neon Genesis Evangelion: The End of Evangelion Pamphlet with assistant-director Kazuya Tsurumaki, who described Shinji's "distant, awkward communication" with the rest of the series' cast functioning as a parable for otaku IRL.

Now with that major aside out of the way, let's resume the analysis of the episode!

I think this scene answers my previous question about why exactly Shinji suddenly decided to disobey orders during the fight with the Angel Shamshel in the previous episode: Namely, after realizing that perfectly obeying orders like a robot got him nowhere, Shinji simply stopped giving a crap and was determined to just kill the Angel even if it meant he himself would get killed in the process. It further feeds into to the previous cliffside imagery which alluded to Shinji’s suicidal tendencies and his lack of any true desire to live unless he can be of use to someone else. It just goes to show how empty and hollow one's existence can feel when consumed by severe depression and self-imposed isolation. A true Hedgehog's Dilemma...

Also, while Spike Spencer’s “yes” replies to Misato can feel a tad bit sarcastic here, he does perfectly nail Shinji’s nihilism in this scene!

As much as I rag on Kensuke in the ADV dub for his crappy voice acting, I do love how he serves as somewhat of a foil to Shinji during the scene where Kensuke’s childishly pretending to be a military soldier before camping out with a wandering Shinji. While Shinji is a stand-in for the introverted depressed otaku (which is reflective of Anno’s own mental state during the production of NGE), Kensuke reflects the more nerdy escapist otaku who’s so overly immersed in their fandom passions that they blind themselves from the ongoings of the real world.

This contrast is best conveyed when Kensuke ignorantly states how jealous he is of Shinji for both being able to pilot EVA and live under the care of an attractive older woman like Misato, whereas Shinji reflects the harsh reality and emotional struggles that a 14-year-old effectively serving as a child soldier would endure. It’s likely no accident that Kensuke was cosplaying as a soldier during this scene, especially since the previous interaction between Misato & Ritsuko about the former’s concern for the mental health of the EVA pilots was juxtaposed with the latter coldly examining Rei’s physical health so that she could fulfill her duty as a cog in NERV’s military industrial complex. Ironically, the same industrial complex which Kensuke idolizes is the one which causes Shinji & Rei pain.

Also, we get another bit of foreshadowing about the EVA’s harboring the souls of the pilot’s dead mother’s as Kensuke reveals that just like Shinji he too lacks a mother.

Misato’s angry reaction to Shinji stating that he’ll continue to pilot the EVA solely because it’s what’s expected of him and that he doesn’t want to place the burden of responsibility on Rei is… interesting. On the one hand Misato is exposing her limitations at being an efficient parental-figure/guardian to Shinji by letting the military commander side of her personality override her nurturing side by coldly scolding Shinji and telling him to leave if that’s going to be his attitude going forward. But on the other hand, I can’t help but completely agree with Misato’s rationale here since if Shinji’s going to continue piloting, then he should do so only if he legitimately wants to or is doing so to discover his own purpose in life, rather than doing so simply out of detached obligation or an aimless desire to gain validation from others. In this regard, piloting the EVA is metaphorical for growing up versus running away, something which Misato herself has and still struggles with.

And that’s why Misato's so harsh on Shinji here. It's because she knows exactly what he’s going through. But while Misato does legitimately want what’s best for him (which is why she feels that him quitting might be better for his mental health), she’s unable to express it in a tactful manner since Shinji in this scenario represents the part of Misato that she hates about herself.

Regarding the scene where Toji requests Shinji to hit him as recompense for him previously hitting Shinji back in Episode 3, I never noticed this before but Toji's request is actually reflective of his struggles with toxic masculinity. I mentioned before that Toji heavily fits into the archetype of the traditional school jock. And although he does subvert many of the traits associated with said-archetype (namely through developing a sense of regret for his previous bullying of Shinji and even empathizing and befriending him), Toji still embodies several attitudes associated with toxic masculinity through his belief of resolving conflict through physical violence. Whether it be him punching Shinji out of anger for EVA Unit-01 accidentally hospitalizing his younger sister, or Toji insisting that Shinji punch him back in order to “let bygones be bygones” between them.

In this regard, Toji is also experiencing his own form of the Hedgehog’s Dilemma which Shinji & Misato also deal with, since he struggles with expressing his feelings of empathy to others and relies on a tough-exterior and communicating primarily through physical pain.

And interestingly, this examination of toxic masculinity isn’t just limited to Toji’s character, but also too Misato’s as well since in previous episodes she scolded Shinji for “not acting like a boy” whenever he acted distant or reserved. And these harmful perceptions of “traditional” masculinity are something which Misato overcomes by the end of this episode when she realizes that the Hedgehog’s Dilemma is causing both Shinji and herself to shielding their true feelings by allowing themselves to be hurt and to hurt others. This is why Misato comes to regret her previous scolding of Shinji, and rushes to see him goodbye at the train station.

Also, I love how Misato’s realization of the harm the Hedgehog’s Dilema causes both her and Shinji is contrasted against one of Shinji’s most famous line’s in the entire series, exposing the true depths of his depression and self-loathing to Toji: “I'm the one who deserved to be hit! Not You! I'm a coward! I'm dishonest! I'm sneaky! And a wimp!”

This final moment where Misato apparently arrives too late at the train station only to see that Shinji never actually got on (once again running away in a sense…), and the two stare at each other for a full minute across the station before calling back to their lines from Episode 2 (specifically when Shinji first arrived at Misato's apartment...), is yet another perfect example of communicating so much information and character development with very little to almost no dialogue! It’s at this moment Shinji finally realized that Misato does legitimately care about him as a parent/guardian-figure and was more than just his commanding officer expecting him to solely follow orders. And Misato finally realized that she needs to not hide her motherly affection for Shinji and start showing him legitimate support, instead of trying to shield her own loneliness through both her gruff military exterior and messy home life.

The duality between Shinji & Misato's respective Hedgehog Dilemma's comes full circle by the end of the episode. As Anno himself once clarified in a written statement for the July 1995 edition of Neon Genesis Evangelion Vol. 1:

"[Shinji] tries to live in a closed world where his behavior dooms him, and he has abandoned the attempt to understand himself. A cowardly young man who feels that his father has abandoned him, and so he has convinced himself that he is a completely unnecessary person, so much so that he cannot even commit suicide. And there is a 29-year-old woman who lives life so lightly as to barely allow the possibility of a human touch. She protects herself by having suface level relationships, and running away. Both are extremely afraid of being hurt. Both are unsuitable-lacking the positive attitude-for what people call heroes of an adventure. But in any case, they are the heroes of this story."

Well, that was NGE, "Episode 4: Rain, After Running Away/Hedgehog's Dilemma", and even after all this time this one still stands as one of my personal favorite episodes from the entire series! Even as far back as Episode 4, Anno was relying heavily on visual storytelling techniques which heavily distinguished EVA from your conventional giant-robot anime series! And that’s a huge factor why even upon rewatch this episode still holds up phenomenally well among the earlier episodes!

Funnily enough though, this episode was actually almost never produced and is the only one out of all 26 episodes in which Anno possesses neither a writing nor co-writing credit. According to the Platinum Booklet - Episode Commentaries, Episode 4 was originally absent from the original plot outlines for the series, stating that,

"In actuality, this episode was once omitted in terms of the series composition and it was planned that what is now Episode Five would come after Episode Three. But as production progressed, staff members voiced their opinion that perhaps there was a need to depict Shinji’s relationship with the people around him after Episode Three, and thus, this episode was made, greatly changing the contents from what had originally been conceived. Because of this, the script for this episode written after the script for Episode Five had already been finalized. This is the one and only episode of all the TV and movie episodes in which Director Anno did not have a direct hand in the plot and script."

All I can say is, thank goodness that this episode does exist. Regardless of whether or not Anno himself was directly involved with the writing process for this specific episode, you can feel his influence all throughout its runtime. Overall, definitely a strong contender for one of the best entries in the original series!

Next time... Episode 5 and our first real glimpse into the enigma known as Rei Ayanami!

[margarethelstone-2]

if I loved you less (i might talk about it more)

requested by one and only @nerdypanda3126. thanks so much!

Read on AO3!

"Taichi... You still like me, don't you?"

The young man in question raised his eyes from the book he'd been trying to read for the past quarter, and fixed them on Chihaya, confused. It wasn't just the question that surprised him, even though its content sure would have been enough to puzzle a better prepared soul.

The fact that Chihaya had barely spoken at all for most of their time together today was the main reason why he felt startled by her words now.

She really had been quiet for most of the day, even though they were spending it at his place, determined, as she herself had claimed, not to get in the way of his studies. Taichi had tried to make her realise that it wasn't what he wanted at all, that the very reason he'd invited her over was to get a break from all the reading and just relax a little. He'd explained over and over again that he needed her to be a distraction; tried – unsuccessfully – to get it into her head that she was actually doing him a favour. He knew how much of a workaholic he could be and so he specifically planned the visit as a means to enforce the necessary break he might not have taken otherwise.

He had told her all of that. And yet, she'd remained quiet.

All the way until now, that is.

And just what on earth was she going on about?

"What's with that question? You know the answer to that," he replied casually, almost dismissively, before going back to the textbook in his hand. He really had no idea what had gotten into her all of the sudden, but then again, he didn't care to delve on the subject. He knew she'd tell him anyway.

"I was just wondering," she answered, a trace of hurt ringing in her voice; Taichi needed to hold back the smile that sprang on his lips at the sight of her pout. "Is it so bad if I do?"

Taichi hummed in thought.

"Is that why you've been so quiet all day?" he asked right after. "You've been just busy considering my possible affection for you?"

"Stop with the mockery. I'm thinking of it seriously."

"Oh? And what conclusions did you come to?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I'd come to any."

He had no choice but to close the book and put it away after a statement he'd just heard. Not that he minded. Throwing it on the floor rather carelessly, he sat up straight in his corner of the couch and, resting his chin on his palm, he fixed his gaze on the girl seated by his desk on the other side of the room.

She really was being impossible today.

Well, he supposed that wasn't anything new. He'd known Chihaya long and well enough to not be fazed by the swings in her mood or the inane schemes she so often came up with. He had learnt to expect the unexpected, every day, every hour of his otherwise boring life, because that was obviously the only way to keep up with her. The one thing he had to keep doing if he still wanted to be a part of her life.

Because that was how Ayase Chihaya was.

Chihaya. His best friend. His fiercest karuta rival. The girl he'd been in love with since fourth grade of primary school and the girl who'd rejected him straightforwardly at the very beginning of their third year in Mizusawa High. The girl whom he'd thought he could never win over, on whom he'd given up again and again, fooling himself he could move on and blight the love he'd had for her since he'd been a ten year old squirt.

He sighed and shook his head, remembering her question from a moment before.

She knew damn well he was still head over heels for her.

She was his girlfriend, for sanity's sake.

"I can't believe you actually have asked, you know," he picked up with the same fake weariness he'd shown before, if only to cover his growing amusement. Seeing her very real anxiety made him assume a more solemn expression, as he asked, "Seriously, what brought this on? Are you mad about something?"

"I'm not mad," she disagreed instantly, and with good emphasis.

"Are you unhappy then? Did I do something to make you feel like that?"

Again, she denied. Now she just looked sad. "That's not it."

Wrong. She was flustered.

"Then what is it?" Taichi asked, as gently and warmly as he could. Not for the first time, he felt grateful for all the hard training his patience had received. It was obvious that Chihaya needed that from him now. "It's not like I could get over you like this, you of all people should be aware of that. You're the most important person in my life. The best companion I could think of. You know I get lonely and grumpy when I can't see you, and you know I still get absurdly jealous, even though I hate being so. And so I can't help but think there's something else I'm not doing right."

Taichi stopped there, waiting for her to, if not answer his question, then to contradict him in one way or another, at least. After all, he really was at a loss.

He thought he'd been doing a fairly good job as a boyfriend, when all was said and done. He'd already shared Chihaya's most important interest and it wasn't difficult to at least understand the new ones she'd found. He made sure to be there for her when she needed him, and tried his best to give her space when she needed that more. True, he'd had some trouble coming for help on his part, but even that was a thing of a past rather than present – certainly not something that could shock Chihaya into thinking like this.

He would think that the all-day-long date he'd come up with and seen through in celebration of their first anniversary as a couple last week was a good show of how much he still cared.

He wasn't perfect. Neither was she. But never in his life would he have thought that he'd failed to get his feelings across.

"Chihaya," he prompted once more, his voice audibly quieter. "Please tell me what it is. I can't fix it if I don't know what's broken."

She looked up from the floor she'd been glaring at for a while and met his gaze, a shadow of unease still clouding her big brown eyes. She opened her mouth to answer; she closed it instantly and looked away again, abashed. There was a hint of pink on her cheeks, and it only grew darker as the time passed, though whether it was because of embarrassment or something more alarming, Taichi couldn't tell yet.

"Chihaya–"

"It's because you never say it."

He supposed his eyes opened wider than ever, what's with the utter astonishment he felt growing inside him immediately. For a few moments, he could do nothing but stare, the craziness of the situation overwhelming enough to successfully prevent him from forming a sensible thought, and much less coming up with any kind of solution. One look at Chihaya was enough to sober him up, however.

She was distressed. She was insecure.

No matter how stupid he thought the reason to be, he could hardly allow the situation to last.

With a groan that was bound to startle her, he bent over and buried his face in his hands.

Only one thing he could do now.

"Come here," he said, his face still hidden behind one hand as he tore the other one away and beckoned her towards him. "No excuses. You'll talk later. Now just come here, please."

She did, albeit tentatively, as if afraid of the reaction he might show her. With his patience starting to run thin at last, Taichi didn't wait for her to cover the whole distance, instead reaching out and grabbing her by the wrist, only to pull her down on the couch right next to him.

And then he pulled her even closer, locking her in a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm gonna do something to you," he mumbled into her hair, his voice a mixture of laughter and complaint. "You cruel, cruel, woman. Have you no heart? Here I am, mind reeling as I try to figure out what the hell I did wrong again and you say it's because I don't say I like you enough. As if you didn't already know you've got a firmer hold of my heart than I ever did. Tell me, am I really this bad at showing you that I care that you doubt it?"

It was Chihaya's turn to growl at him, though it surely – and fortunately – didn't stop her from burying her face even deeper into his chest and digging her fingers into the shirt on his back. Again, Taichi laughed at the display, but didn't loosen his grip one bit.

That silly, unbelievable, most beloved girl.

"This and that are different things," she muttered finally in response against his buttons, her stubborn indignation probably being the only reason why he could discern the words at all. "There are different kinds of love languages. We even talked about it, you know."

"Yes. And as far as I remember, we've already established that neither of us cared for this one. So your argument doesn't work."

Well, this was a lie, or at least, it wasn’t fully true. After all, he could never get tired of hearing her say those words, to him and him only. But he didn't need it that much, not when he already knew of so many other ways in which Chihaya expressed her love towards him. He'd always assumed it was the same for her, too.

Funnily enough, he still didn't think he was mistaken.

"I've had feelings for you for the past fourteen years, you dummy, I wouldn't change my mind just because you decided to return them," he threw in only half-jokingly, as if to make sure he got his point across before moving onto the next part. "So? Care to tell me what's the source of it all?"

He felt her tense against him for a split second, only to relax in the next moment with a long, weary sigh. He waited for her to make herself comfortable in his arms, shifting ever so slightly to make it easier for them both. And then he heard her speak.

"I met up with Kana-chan the other day," she admitted weakly. "Her and Desktomu. And I guess... They're always so sweet with one another, now more than ever. I suppose... It made me feel a little jealous. But most of all, it just made me think."

"And you decided that I'd fallen out of love with you, because I don't talk like Komano does?"

"I didn't decide anything, I told you already. I just wondered if maybe I was doing something wrong to deserve that treatment. Sorry for being so terribly scared of losing you again because of my own foolishness."

Words caught in his throat as Taichi tried to protest against this new development. That last addition Chihaya had made – and more importantly, the wounded, truly uncertain voice with which she'd spoken – would have been enough to melt his heart even if he had actually been angry with her. Right now, he had to hold back from grabbing her by the chin and kissing her senseless until all the idiotic ideas evaporated from her overworked mind.

The things she did to him without as much as trying.

You evil little imp.

"They're newly-weds. You can't use them for reference," he managed to stutter out at least, conveniently ignoring the hoarseness of his own voice and the emotion that hovered behind it. "Not to mention, those two are the opposite of us when it comes to talking about feelings openly. There's a reason they got together six years before we did. Just because something works for them doesn't mean it's the best course for us to take as well."

He smiled again and planted a kiss at the top of her hair, before adding, "I still can't believe you really doubted me, though."

She huffed and pulled away, although she still didn't move from her place on the couch. They were still close; close enough for Taichi to see the light reflecting in her eyes and the blush that hadn't left her cheeks, and to reach out and comb her tangled hair with his fingers. Another gesture so full of love, even though it was but a fraction of all that she made him feel.

"Well, since I never understood what had made you fall in love with me in the first place, it's only natural that I'd have this kind of doubts."

He chuckled and she smiled on her part, her obstinacy giving it to the desire to just be with him. It was another thing Taichi was able to read in her eyes – and, knowing the feeling well enough from his own experience, he had no trouble deciphering it.

Delayed, the first part of her sentence entered his brain.

What made me fall for you, I wonder?

He didn't know. It had been so long since he’d realised his feelings after all, and longer still since those feelings had been born. Even all those years earlier, he probably wouldn’t have been able to point out the reasons clearly, never mind finding the one spark that had started it – trying to do so now seemed downright impossible.

There were so many reasons, after all.

Maybe it was because she had never considered herself a possible love interest for anyone, first when she was too engrossed in karuta and later, when she thought she didn't deserve to be one. Maybe it was her hot-headedness and her drive, and how different she'd always been from him, and yet never failed to tell him how much she'd admired and envied those qualities of his that she lacked.

Maybe it was the fact that she'd always been with him, so close and so dear and yet so impossible to grasp.

Maybe it was because she'd loved him long before either of them dared believe that was the case.

Maybe...

"Maybe," he said out loud, though in fact not loud at all, his lips moving against her forehead as he leaned in to put a kiss there, too. "Maybe, if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more."

Edging away, Taichi saw tears gathering in her eyes. He wiped them away with his thumb, his hand cupping the side of her jaw fittingly.

And then he kissed her properly.

Just like he had wanted to ever since he'd first seen her that day.

[doudecim]

I want to say that 99% of the fics here are on FF.net for I have only recently discovered the wonders of AO3, and I still didn’t dig deep in there to find all the HitsuKarin goodies.

That being said, I will put the list under the cut because this will be one very long post. So, I hope you all enjoy it!

one-shots

A Constant Fascination, by back-in-a-bit. — 'Colour me blood red passionately.' Hitsugaya makes it his personal mission to get Karin to blush. Pity it's easier said than done. In fact, it might just take him a lifetime. [rated T]

A Fall in the Fall, by MeteorLeopard. — This was ridiculous! There she was, just looking at the fish, and the next thing she knows, she's up in a tree being held against her will! And it's all his fault! [rated T]

a little suffering is good for the soul, by the milliner’s rook. —  Future fic. If there are stupider ways to get courted, Karin can't think of them. [rated K+]

A Woman Scorned, by Glowing Blue. — The twisted fairy tale of Karin finding her own invite to the ball, though she's hardly looking for a Prince Charming. [rated T]

but leave the soul alone, by the milliner’s rook. — AU. Death, it's catching. Or: the one where Toushirou and Karin share night shifts at the hospital. And coffee. Terrible, terrible coffee. [rated K+]

Collection, by ichilover3. — A drabble/oneshot dump. Shenanigans, silliness, and sexy-times abound. Also alliteration, apparently. [rated M]

crawl into your shadow, by the milliner’s rook. — AU. There's a witch in this sleepy little village now that goes by the name of Karin, but nothing has changed since she's arrived. Not really. [rated T]

Delirous, by carved in the sand. — Matsumoto finds her captain to be a lovestruck teenage boy. [rated T]

duckling theory, by the milliner’s rook. — The first thing Karin notices is watermelon. Looking back, maybe it should have been startling green eyes. [rated K]

For You, by Glowing Blue. — Death had never been the paradise everyone wished it to be. But then they found each other. [rated T, two-shot.]

frostbitten, by the milliner’s rook. — Set during the time skip. The winter they meet is unkind with snow. [rated K+]

Frozen Moments, by CrazyAce'n'PokerFace. — 101 drabbles/one-shots that give a glimpse into Toushirou and Karin's life together. A love story told in snapshots. [rated K+]

funny valentine, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — I'll be yours if you'll be mine. [rated K+]

humour me, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — True love's kiss. That ought to do it. [rated K+]

i’m high on believing, by the milliner's rook. — For the record, he prefers his plain black shoes to her fancy red sneakers. [rated K+]

ice breaker, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — AU. There are better ways to get found out than making out in a closet and tumbling onto the ground. [rated T]

if my heart was a compass you’d be north, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — Future fic. Give me a reason to believe. [rated K+]

In Every Season, by Adobo-chan. — A collection of HitsuKarin oneshots. [rated T]

In the Dark, by ichilover3. — It really wasn't anyone else's business. She should be allowed to fornicate with midgets if she wanted to. [rated T]

innocent guilt, by SebonzaMitsuki27. —  AU. Oh, I know! You're a tramp with wings! [rated K+]

Juxtaposition, by Lady Azar de Tameran. — Something within Hitsugaya Toushirou thinks that he may have met his match. [rated T]

keep me in your pocket, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — Set during the timeskip. Don't stay out of touch, okay? [rated K+]

Kuchiki Rukia, the Glorified Courier, by MeteorLeopard. — Delivering super-top-secret messages between dimensions is tough work; believe me, I know. If it weren't such a rewarding experience I'd downright refuse to play the messenger. Honestly. [rated K+]

liliputians, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — Future fic. It's alright, kid. I'm short too. [rated K+]

Lovely Complex, by Unknown lazy ass. — She slyly grinned, “Wow, you really are head over heels for me, aren’t you Toushirou?” [rated K+]

Momo knows Best, by MeteorLeopard. — Sometimes having a meddling older sister... sucks. [rated T]

of halos and wings, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — Future fic. He had betrayed Hinamori with nothing but his heart. [rated T]

Old Haunts, by the milliner's rook. — Future fic. You were just gone, Toushirou, what was I to think? I thought—I thought you'd come back, and you did, twenty years too late. [rated T]

Peeping Tom, by Glowing Blue. — The love story of Hitsugaya and Karin, as seen from open windows and heard through thin walls. "Hisagi's eyes had a tendency to stray." AU. [rated T]

phantasmagoria, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — Flickering through black and white, they find their perfect shade of grey. [rated K+, two-shot.]

put down your sword and crown, by the milliner's rook. — AU. When her old man dies to save Ichi-nii's life, everything changes. Days after the funeral, the word Quincy is spoken for the first time, and at five years old, Karin becomes defined by it. [rated K+]

Red, The Colour of Despair, by the milliner's rook. — It was strange how much difference one colour could make. [rated K+]

Revenants, by carved in the sand. — Hitsugaya ponders the ghosts that haunt the girl he still loves. [rated T]

Sports and Sex are Universal (but never the twain should meet), by back-in-a-bit. — Toushirou gives Karin a flat look. "I'm not high-fiving you over sex," he says. [rated M]

Subtle, by nublados. — Toshiro comments on the subtlety that is Karin Kurosaki. [rated K+]

The Art of Asking, by Felix02. — He should have known that her father wouldn't be able to keep a secret, especially from one of his daughters. [rated T]

The Art Of Getting By, by the milliner's rook. — AU. There's some difficulty between juggling flirting, killing Hollows and getting to class on time with the hottest guy in high school, but Karin's certain she'll get the hang of it eventually. [rated T]

The Staircase not Taken, by MeteorLeopard. — Perhaps it was a good thing that the stairs were destroyed, her brother acting demented and a violent fight going on without her just upstairs. After all, the visitor who happened to drop by was worth the wait. [rated T]

the winter sun smiled for things to come in spring, by the milliner's rook. — What is it with you! You're either too young or too old! What the hell! [rated T, two-shots.]

Urahara's Lawn Mowing Service, by MeteorLeopard. — Incorrect phone numbers are a messy business. Even messier though is the business that happens after said incorrect phone call. "Fine, but I bet your girlfriend didn't call back because your lawn needs to be mowed." [rated T]

velocity, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — Aim for the goal, and don't look back, no matter what. [rated T]

where angels fear to tread, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — They belong in hell. [rated K]

You Taste Like Birthday, You Look Like New Year, by the milliner's rook. — Future fic. She likes his hands, Toushirou notices. Loves them, in fact. [rated M]

complete

lune, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — AU. Me and you and moonlight shivers. [[rated T] other main pairings are ByakuyaHisana, ShinjiHiyori and UlquiorraNel, so beware that HitsuKarin is not the only focus in this one.]

Waterlogged, Wind-chapped, and Sun-bleached. — They grow up together, and the slow progression of their relationship shapes their world. AU. [rated T]

Wendybird Chronicles, by the milliner's rook. — She wonders if they ever had a chance. If they might have missed it, somehow. [rated K+]

on going

Wrong Number, by Lunatasha. — Unknown (10:22): So! I just read all of the conversations I had last night while I was out drunk and thoroughly embarrassing myself and please let me apologise for bothering you (especially as I think you were working if you were in your office?) last night. I mean in hindsight I probably should have stopped messaging you as soon as it was clear you weren't who I was looking for, but drunk me apparently hates sober me so yeah, I'm sorry. That being said thank you again for helping me out even though I must have been bothering you, I appreciate it. [rated T]

Only in Dreams, by TullyBlue. — Brother, she had called him, but he spent the entire meal acting like she was a ghost. Eating with the twins, he can’t even imagine being that cold to his sisters. Yuzu’s laughter brightens his day and that admiring glint in Karin’s eye, that he only catches every once in a while, means the world to him. The so-called brother in his dreams makes Ichigo’s skin crawl. Everything else, though, he wants to see more of, to know more about, to understand. Old, wood floors, a spacious room, flowing black robes, and those swords... [[rated T] other main pairings are IchigoRukia, UryuuChad, GanjuHanatarou, so beware that HitsuKarin is not the only focus in this one.]

abandoned or on permanent hiatus, probably won’t ever post a new chapter again

Blizzard Blues, by the milliner's rook. — Future fic. I heard your brother had an eight pack, Captain Hitsugaya! That he was shredded! [rated T]

Catalyst, by Etiena. — With captain-level shinigami in her family, it is no surprise that Kurosaki Karin has potential. But it isn't family which triggers her change. Instead, a chance encounter with a young shinigami captain leads to startling revelations. [rated K+]

Go Against the Grain, by Adobo-chan. — Old law deems that only a son may become the Kurosaki House's next leader. Born from this ancient tradition, a tragic betrayal and her mother's sacrifice, Karin is brought up as Kurosaki Kazuto, the 29th head of the family. [rated T]

oh sinful rose, by the milliner's rook. — AU. Five years after the monarchy is overthrown, a noble finds a forgotten princess in chains. DISCONTINUED. [rated T]

Quandary, by Glowing Blue. — Funnily enough, meeting such a spirited single mother was actually part of his job description. AU. [rated T] (I love this one so much!)

Roommate For Sale, by SavageTrickster. — AU. There are many things in life that she didn't know, but the one thing Kurosaki Karin was certain of is that her overprotective brother is going to blow his top when he meets her new roommate.

[anika-ann]

WINSoD - Pt.2

We Move Together...

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2, part 3)  

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 2400

Summary: In which Steve might get a bit tipsy and jealous in a sweet way. 

A/N: As adertised, What I’d Never Say or Do (Had I Been in My Right Mind) is only refered to as WINSoD. Also - enter Age of Ultron ;)

Warnings: mention of superntural creatures, alcohol, language, briefest mention of death, journalists acting like jerks 

Part 1 (previous chapter)

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The press conference was a thing from nightmares. You did not enjoy all the flashes of cameras; you were not Tony freaking Stark, all charming and witty when over a hundred reporters stumbled through the doorway of the huge conference room. No, you could only manage to be sassy and fun within a circle of your friends. Which you found yourself in anyway, but boy, the presence of the others was still very much apparent and they were the ones asking questions.

Even Bruce had been forced to come, much to his dismay, but him and Clint were for some reason left out when it came to the poisonous questions, their duo considered only unwilling participants of the whole plotting for and against the poor soulmate pair of you and Steve.

You truly envied Thor who was off to Asgard once more. And while you wouldn’t want to be in Bucky’s shoes, you sure as hell wished you could sit this one out as he did, the public still not aware of his existence safe for one priest who had helped him to find his way to Steve.

It was ridiculous. The tone a question was asked with was enough to distinguish whether it was aimed at you and Steve or at someone else. Hell, when it came to you and Steve, they didn’t even bother asking, just stating the facts instead.

“Such a long recovery. That must have been horrible, especially with amnesia involved, wasn’t it.” (Yes, shockingly. What is it to you, huh?)

“Such luck you were able to remember, isn’t it.” (Luck had nothing to do with it. God’s sister has.)

“You must be angry with Captain’s team too, aren’t you.” (No, they are the best, you idiot, this whole thing is a stupid lie.)  

“I am sure you’re willing to share your story since people were grieving for you in such a worship-like way…” (…fuck you.)

In reality, you tried to word your indignation towards this herd-like aggressivity aimed at the Avengers and the blatant pity for you rather carefully, speaking of hardship but justified, and yes, you were very lucky indeed. They didn’t need to know just how much.

Steve received a pretty similar set of questions, but they were more of anger and questioning whether the team was still able to function after such a betrayal that nearly ended up tragically. Steve was surprisingly convincing in his act of a disappointed teammate and friend and expressed hope that they would be able to continue to exist and cooperate, his team slowly earning his trust back.

“Have the outcome had been different, my reaction would be too. But the love of my life is here with me and that is what matters. I cannot begin to say how lucky I am to have her back and I thank God for that every day.”

You bit your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at the private joke and smiled at him instead, earning a whispering wave of ‘awww’ from the crowd and a blinding mess of camera flashes when you gathered the courage to lean in and kiss Steve’s cheek chastely. The reporters went absolutely nuts.

Tony and Natasha on the other hand had to face the stoning. Seriously, there were being personally attacked, questions dripping venom. But they clearly had more experience and knew how to answer without the cunning reporters being able to twist their words into something else, much to the vultures’ dislike and annoyance. Duo Stark-Romanoff fought back and very effectively.

It filled your chest with pride, having friends capable in so many ways. They were so freaking badass.

It made the whole experience more bearable; that and Steve’s hand always touching you, grounding you and reminding you that never ever he would let you face the wolves alone.

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You all knew that a public apology and trying your best to deal with the press somehow wouldn’t be enough. Well, you had hoped it would, but hadn’t quite believed, expecting to have to more in near future.

You were right, of course, which was why you were currently dressed up (or dolled up, as Steve loved to say, because you were his doll, after all) and forcing yourself to leave the elevator once it would stop, with Steve by your side.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he coaxed, knuckles brushing your cheek tenderly, planting a soft kiss to your temple, too worried about smudging your lipstick despite Natasha’s earlier reassurance that it wouldn’t smudge under any circumstances as she had thoroughly tested.

You tried not to think about that kind of testing and clearly Steve felt the same.

Instead, you gazed into the cerulean blue with a drop of green of his eyes, not convinced. He was being sweet and all, which you appreciated, but in reality, he had no way of knowing it would be alright. Mostly because Tony went all the way and invited all the important people who could influence the public opinion as much as rising stars of whom he felt could influence the public in the near future.

So next to a senator and a group of big-shot businessmen, there would hang out a pair of lawyers sticking for the little guy and right next to a supermodel, there would be a girl starting a new food bank. Thinking about it, it was a funny parallel to Steve and you by his side, except you weren’t doing any good, unlike them. Not that you would say that out loud.

To be fair, the Avengers decided to spice thing up a little by revealing Bucky Barnes being alive, very slowly leaking his story of a brainwashed soldier. Funnily enough, in a shadow of your big reveal, his own went rather quietly.

People were so freakin’ weird.

“I guess I’m gonna survive…” you murmured, ignoring the icy shiver that ran up your spine at your choice of words. Steve’s gaze seemed to turn distant for a moment before coming back to you, some of the strength he had been trying to project into you disappearing in the wind because of the painful memory. “Sorry. That was-“

The emotion no doubt twisting his gut caused his inhibitions to fly out of the window and his lips captured yours in a searing kiss that took your breath away. You melted against his muscular frame that seemed to engulf you completely, his calloused fingers grabbing onto your bare shoulders, digging in a bit deeper than necessary.

Your head was spinning with the passion displayed so openly and in the back of your mind, you registered that the elevator stopped, but before you could get to the idea of thanking Tony’s AI, your brain got side-tracked when Steve shamelessly licked into your mouth and backed you into the railing by the wall.

Feeling the familiar heat pool in your lower abdomen, sending sizzling heat through your veins, you instinctively gripped the lapels of his suit jacket when his lips retreated to give you a chance to breathe in.

Who needed breathing anyway?

He grinned against your mouth, the little shit he was, and one of his hands guided your head to a tilt for better access. You most definitely whimpered at that as his body trapped you against the wall completely, not leaving an inch in between.

Feeling him this close would never get old and you thought you might burst by the time his mouth moved to your left ear, keeping you in place while his hand moved from your shoulder to trace the line of your dress, slipping between the high slit of your dress to caress your thigh.

“Watch your mouth, doll. Or I’m gonna have to do exactly this to shut you up every time you don’t,” he whispered and your ragged breath caught in your throat when the perfect comeback popped in your head – a reasonable one, surprisingly enough.

“I bet the press would love that.”

His fingers flexed on your leg and his teeth very carefully nibbled on the skin of your neck, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Don’t care about the press,” he growled lowly, sighing as if in pain when he slowly pulled back, leaving you clutching the railing so you wouldn’t fall as your legs turned into an uncontrollable wobbly mass. Then, as if he wanted to ruin you completely before the night even started, his lips were graced by a soft smile, his eyes twinkling. “I care about you.”

“And you call me trouble…”

He had the nerve to wink at you and thank the AI for the stop he never explicitly asked for.

“My pleasure, Steve,” Jarvis hummed, sounding amused and self-satisfied.

Your soulmate gentlemanly offered you an elbow to lead you out of the cabin.

“Shall we, my lady?”

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In all honesty, the party wasn’t that bad, mostly because it wasn’t just to celebrate your resurrection, but also retrieving a sceptre Thor’s brother had used during The Battle of New York.

You wouldn’t go as far as saying you enjoyed the evening greatly, but you had met several interesting people of which only few had weird questions regarding you; however, weird questions when showing up in public was an everyday occurrence.

You finally truly understood why Steve was happy you treated him like an equal (most of the time anyway).

Every single original male Avenger and Sam and Bucky made sure to dance with you as well as with Natasha and for a good measure, when the song got the right beat, your favourite redhead dragged you to the dance floor for a friendly dance; needless to say Natasha was much better at spontaneous dancing than you. Steve assured you about the opposite by a kiss and a rather filthy promise as soon as you shared your thoughts on your lacking skills with him.

Actually--- yes, you might even say you enjoyed the party very much, uncharacteristically for you, considering the insane number of people attending. The penthouse was way too full, but here you were, sipping on your third glass of champagne, listening to Thor’s colourful narrating regarding Asgardian battles. It wasn’t that you were interested in battles, no – it was the man himself creating suspense and gesturing wildly and making the whole clutch of listeners breathless.

“Careful with the admiring, doll,” Steve whispered to your ear, his arm sneaking around your waist out of nowhere, nearly making you jump out of your skin. “I might get jealous.”

Giddy from the alcohol, you turned your head and brushed his lips with yours.

“We did establish I’d marry Thor if you weren’t an option, didn’t we?” you teased lowly, catching the wink Thor sent your direction as if he heard you despite your hushed voice. It wasn’t flirtation; no, it felt more like mischief, as if he was being your wingman, which he excelled at apparently, because Steve might get little possessive if the grunt by your ear was anything to go by. “As if you didn’t know I only have eyes for you.”

“Just eyes?”

“Why, Captain, are you implying something?”

“Maybe.”

“Of course, my heart is yours as well,” you smirked at him, making his somehow annoyed and pleased at the same time. You leaned even closer. “And everything else.”

“Alright, but what about that hammer of yours? I mean, I saw people swinging around Captain’s shield – though not as skilfully – but no one uses your weapon. Why? Is it that heavy? Are you the only one strong enough to… keep it up?” one of the women asked, apparently more than a little tipsy, judging by her implication.

Gee, she had no inhibitions. Were you being like this now? You really hoped not…

“Well, my lady, that is a very complicated matter…” Thor started, clearly pleased by that question.

“Dance with me again,” sounded softly at your ear and your lips automatically curled up in a smile.

“Whatever makes you happy, my love.”

Steve grinned as he swiftly got rid of the glass in your hand and was already pulling you away by the time you noticed the envious or the amused stares of your companions.

“Green’s not a good colour on you, Steve,” you hummed incidentally, earning an actual pout. “This is adorable though. And I’m not gonna complain about you getting a bit handsy more often.”

“Trouble, doll.”

“I love you too.”

“I do love you. I’m sorry if I got annoying. It’s just… ugh. Thor. You got this look in your eyes and I just-”

Oh.

You sometimes forgot Steve could be as self-conscious as you were. It made your heart ache and yet grow with fondness for your soulmate.

“No, Steve. I might get starry-eyed, because of course I do admire him. It’s easy to get captivated by his stories or his manners, just look at the crowd around him. But you… there’s something about you… that strikes me right here.” You tapped over your heart pointedly. “You know me through and through and yet here you are. You must know I’m yours and still – you treat me every day like you’re courting me and at the same time, we’re comfortable with each other and--- yeah, that. Thor is great. But you’re everything. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” he confirmed, brilliant eyes shining, the drops of Asgardian liquor he had consumed adding to the glow. “And you’re mine.”

“Meant to be…” you cooed, happily giving in to his lips when they found yours again for a short moment. You barely realized you stopped in your steps as the slow song had made you only sway. You whispered into his lips then, unbothered. “Plus, I bet you could lift that hammer and keep it up too if you tried.”

His rich laughter filled your ears and he spun you both in circle, planting a kiss on your forehead. You already planned on how you’d get him a custom-made mug with a little hammer on it, reading ‘I am worthy’ or something like that. You were sure he’d love it.

Yeah, it was an amazing party.

Here was a funny thing though; when you had already been confronted with the fact angels and God existed, you should have known blasphemy was a thing.

So, naturally, as you had said ‘I guess I’m gonna survive…’, you should have known there would be a thick chance that you wouldn’t.

That was the first thing that flew through your mind the moment something burst through a wall as if it was made paper thin and not metal.

The second thought? Oh shit.

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Part 3

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Thank you for reading! 

Like I said, chapters of this fic will be less chronologically tight. Buuut, you’ll see ;) Also, sorry it took me so long.

[ezrasarm]

Come Back To Me In Waking Dream

[ Day 5 | Angstaggedon Masterlist ]

Pairing: Ezra x Reader

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: Torn apart by the forces of the universe, Ezra becomes a ghost of himself.

Warnings: ANGST, hints at depressive episodes and thoughts of death, more angst. This is not an uplifting story.

Credits: A huuuuuge thank you to @din-damn-djarin​​ and @chaotic-noceur​​ for beta reading and letting me use them as a human squash court for me to bounce my ideas off of! The title is inspired by a piece of poetry written by David Keenan that preludes his song “Full Stop” and I thought it fit just right.

A/N: Not to toot my own horn or anything but... I hope y’all brought tissues.

As with any line of work, the longer you’re in it, the smaller the world- or in this case, the universe- seems to become. You and Ezra had made a number of first encounters through your years working the aurelac business. It wasn’t glamorous by any means, no matter what the precious gem associated with it might suggest. The work was rough and often fruitless. But, on those rare occasions that you managed to find a sizeable deposit in those tangles of rhizomatic roots- provided you had the skill to extract them, one, without killing yourself, and two, without damaging the delicate bounty in the process- you could make quite the pretty penny off of it. And you could make it fast. It was part of what made the industry so cutthroat in the first place. It was also entirely the reason that making lasting relationships, business or otherwise, was nearly impossible for you.

Both Ezra and yourself had gotten into prospecting and harvesting aurelac even before the rush. It seemed like your timelines were interlinked. You couldn’t stop running into one another if you tried. You could recall quite vividly the first time you saw him. His rich smooth voice and exuberant charm were not things that detracted attention from him. So he was hard to miss in the small, dingy convenience store on the freighter back from the Bakhroma system. When you finally acquaintanced yourselves with one another quite sometime later, he insisted he had seen you around here and there long before that. You argued that he must have been mistaken because you couldn’t possibly have failed to notice him and that peculiar blonde patch in his hair. And that even if you did, you would have heard him coming even sooner. “That,” he said, “is not necessarily true.” But none the less you managed to crack him up. He’s had a soft spot for you ever since.

You had gotten to know each other pretty well through the many drinks you shared when you found yourselves on the same planet and the odd job you would work together in between. You now knew him well enough that if you were feeling bold you might venture to call him a friend. Perhaps even admit that at times you thought you could be a little more than that. Although you would never have the nerve to say it to his face.

Then he disappeared. One moment he was on The Pug scanning the boards, the next he was gone. Funnily enough, the job he managed to scrounge up was one you had been eyeing yourself. You got pulled away on a contract with an old client of yours to do some appraisals and he set off for this prospecting mission of his. He said it would take a week tops and that he had something he wanted to tell you when he got back. Then you never saw him again.

You see, Ezra had just been working up the courage to tell you how he felt. He swore the next time he saw you would be the day he told you he loved you. That you were the star of his dreams when he slept and the object of his reveries when he woke. That practically every moment of every day he spent away from you he was thinking about where you were or what you were up to. None of this stopped when his pod crash-landed on Bakhroma Green.

He just needed one more job to save up to take you out on Kamrea, your temporary home when you could afford to live there. He had this grand plan to woo you with a nice meal and a necklace made from a small aurelac crystal he had harvested on one of the first jobs you had worked together. He knew how hard you pushed yourself. You never gave yourself a break. He thought it would be nice to treat you to more than just a drink in a bar for once.

It was supposed to be a simple job. Prospect potential dig sites, maybe even harvest a little while he was at it, then get the hell out of there. But none of that happened. Instead, he got stranded on that godforsaken rock. It was years before anyone came to his rescue. He lost his arm somewhere along the way. A rogue thrower shot from a skittish young sater. He was normally quite conscious of staying out of their territory but with the seasons changing, foraging for food brought him out of his comfort zone. The resulting infection cost him his dominant hand.

But his physical injury was hardly the worst of his ailments on his extended visit to the Bakhroma moon. He was quite positive he was going insane hauled up in the damaged drop pod that only served as a reminder he wouldn’t be leaving the forest moon any time soon. As he quickly came to find, he and prolonged periods of time without human contact were not a good combination. While saters and other prospectors may have passed through every now and again, he often had enough trouble bargaining with them for his life, let alone a ride off the dumb rock. They never stuck around long and they certainly weren’t talkative. His mental health took a nosedive quite early on. He took to talking to himself, writing to keep his mind busy. At his worst, he could recall experiencing fits of hysteria and even hallucinations. He had the delirious diary entries to prove it.

It was around the time he lost his arm that he began to lose hope too. The longer he was stranded there, the more doubt that there would be any way out at all began to creep into his mind. There were some nights where the thought of seeing you again, brushing that rebellious strand of hair out of your face and pulling you into a long-awaited kiss, was the only thing that kept him going. He could still see your face. The upward quirk to your lip and the light graze of your hand against his as you passed him by in the hall on his way out. You were in some big rush as you always were. You assured him you would see him later. All he could think of was how wrong that assumption was now. He never could have imagined that would be the last time he saw you. And now here he was projecting phantom memories on the blank ceiling of the pod, cursing himself for not telling you what he should have the moment he knew. He refused to let himself die without letting you know how he felt. Maybe he would be able to rest easier if you knew.

For the first couple cycles you worried yourself sick. The risk associated with your field of work was not lost on you. He wouldn’t just leave you like that- he couldn’t. You wouldn’t let him. But years had passed. It soon came time for you to confront the acceptance of one of two realities: either he was dead, or he had abandoned you. The thought confused you. He wasn’t yours to be abandoned by and yet the resentment that came with it stung you just the same. You couldn’t tell which hurt you more but you knew you couldn’t sit around waiting for a dead man. And if he was alive, you refused to spend another second pining over a man who would up and leave you without so much as a goodbye. So you swallowed your yearning, the nag in your heart that clung to the hope he would still come back for you, and you moved on.

When Ezra got off the Green he hardly recognized himself anymore. His hair had grown shaggy despite his attempts to keep it under control, there were patches of grey in his dishevelled beard, his face had thinned, and those were just the physical changes. It was one of the last sling-backs before they killed the Central-BG line for good. A Kaslo Porting team, dropped to scavenge for old scraps and parts they could mark up and sell second hand, stumbled upon his pod. He was deathly frail when they found him. With his food supply having long since been depleted he had almost poisoned himself by mistaking a species of berry for its edible cousin in his desperation. If they hadn’t found him sooner, the doctors on board the freighter couldn’t see how he would have survived. He wound up hospitalized for weeks.

After all that time with just one thought on his mind, he knew he had to find you. Upon being discharged he searched high and low for you. He felt foolish checking all your old haunts. It had been so long. But he didn’t know where else to begin. He checked with mutual friends and old employers. They all seemed too surprised by being in the presence of a ghost to give him a straight answer.

He went to just about every place he could think of, asking your name as though it carried the same weight to everyone else as it did to him. He was sure he had searched every last corner of the galaxy. When he kept coming up empty he began to doubt whether you yourself were alive. It seemed like he was the only who knew who you were. It was like you didn’t exist. It was like you never had existed. He went so far as to question if he had made you up. If you were merely some fucked up defence mechanism manufactured by his brain to keep him hopeful. To keep him from giving up so long ago as he had been tempted to do. But he couldn’t bring himself to stop looking. That would be admitting something to himself that he would never be ready to. His head would perk up if through the chatter of crowded spaces he would hear a laugh similar to your own carry across the room. He would lose his place in conversations when he would see a flash of hair not unlike your own out of his peripheral vision.

Then one day he found himself back on The Pug, scanning the boards the exact same way he had been the first time he laid eyes on you. He wasn’t actively looking for you. No more than he always was. But sure enough there you were. Your arms crossed over your chest and your gaze tilted upward to read the job postings that flashed by not unlike flight numbers in an airport. You had matured a little. You wore your hair differently now. Shorter than he remembered but he liked it just the same. Your posture had changed too. You looked calmer, more confident and at ease as you watched the boards. Not tense and nervous as you used to be when you lived paycheck to paycheck, desperate for every opportunity you could leap at. Life had treated you well, he remarked to himself. As it should have. You looked just as beautiful as you were in that faded photograph of the two of you he carried everywhere with him. The same one he studied every night as he tried to fall asleep on those lonely nights on the Green.

He felt his heart leap in his chest when you turned in his direction, a graceful smile across your face and your arms outstretched. He felt the adrenaline kick in, like a jolt of electricity through his entire body. He realized then that he hadn’t moved since he had laid eyes on you, too startled by the long anticipated discovery to function. A hysterical grin had stretched across his face. He couldn’t believe he had finally found you. That you were there standing right in front of him after all he had been through trying to get back to you. He was just about to step towards you. To shout your name, take you in his arms and do what he should’ve done long before. That’s when a young tike, hardly three years old came darting past him, tripping over her own feet as she bumbled towards you at top speed.

Then it dawned on him. That smile? Those open arms? They weren’t for him.

You crouched and swept the child up in your arms, peppering her face with kisses as she giggled back at you. It was now that he could see the resemblance. The twinkle in the young girl’s eye and the way she threw her head back when she laughed were not foreign to him. A man he didn’t recognize came trotting after her, scooping her up from your embrace before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips.

It finally occurred to him why no one had recognized your name.

You looked happy. The smile on your face made his heart swell as he watched you from a distance. He only wished that he was the cause of it. The realization struck him that he could never be that for you. A husband. A father to your child. Even if he wanted to, years of breathing in toxic particles does things to a man. Now he was too late anyway. He had never wished so strongly that he hadn’t taken that job, that he hadn’t boarded that pod and set off to Bakhroma Green. Tears stung his eyes as he choked back the confession welling in the back of his throat. He couldn’t do that to you now. You deserved better than the trauma of a phantom walking back into your life after all this time. And stood there, every semblance of hope he had harboured since your fingertips slid off his own in that hallway shattered around his feet, he considered something. He should’ve let himself die on that rock. It would have been a more merciful death than the one he had just experienced as he watched the very dream that kept him alive all that time fall apart in front of him.

[ Angstageddon Masterlist | Ezra’s Arm Masterlist ]

-- Angstageddon Taglist 

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[listless-brainrot]

tagged by @scrtminlikesdrawing and @harutheestallion !! thank you sm for tagging me <3 <3

prompt-share your: 

first fic: my VERY first posted fic was on ff.net and was. it was a total drama oc cast thing. i don’t really remember most of it bc i’ve blocked most of my younger fan days out of my mind but ESPECIALLY that. as for my first official atla fic it was bending expectations (which i’ve unfortunately deleted for the time being but it will come back! i just wanna flesh it out more)

favorite fic: i have a few!! i don’t read fic as much but fics i go back and revisit are Until Ba Sing Se, Not Ready to Make Nice, and Kiss Me?, and i love all of these for different reasons that i will list Now

>Until Ba Sing Se: the first Jetru-centric fic i found that made me go oh? other people,,, ship what i do? i have content? and seeing it really inspired me to go all out and write my own stuff!! not only that, it’s really well written, and takes place somewhere often loathed by most- The Great Divide. it also gives this really good interpretation of jet that feels practically ripped from my own mind, and haru’s characterization is pretty good as well, giving him a nice relationship to both of his parents. jet and haru’s relationship slowly develops over the course of the oneshot, and it’s just really sweet. the part where they share blankets?? lives in my mind rent free. it all ends.... uhhh... it all ends with... it... i’m sad. but everything else is really good!!

>Not Ready to Make Nice: plays with a concept that i’ve always struggled with for some reason, and that is jet living after lake laogai. not that it’s a concept i hate, there’s just a lot of questions that need answering, ranging from ‘would bee and longshot stick around?’ to ‘does jet ever get his swords back?’ to ‘what now?’. i think this fic really takes these questions and not only answers them, but runs with them. jet’s portrayal in this fic is incredibly nuanced, and it really feels like arthur has such a good grip of what exactly makes him tick. not only that, hama!! dude hama is in this fic and she has a personality and her and jet interact and it’s really good and you should all read it Right Now

>Kiss Me?: this is one of my fav fics for a lot of reasons, and one of them just has to be that sense of pure puppy love that you don’t really see in most fics, especially with haru and jet. when people write these characters, they often forget that they’re kids, teenagers at that, and teens tend to be stupid and inexperienced. that comes to a head here, where haru finds out that jet’s never really kissed anyone before. i love how jet is the inexperienced one, and it’s just really funny to me, and haru’s reaction is really endearing. there’s just this sense of both of them having these mutual feelings for each other that feels natural and really sweet, and it culminates into a nice kiss. a win for the jetru nation, truly

as for fav fics in terms of my own i think hooked is pretty up there

most recent fic: in terms of being posted?? i saw a boy at the party, a modern au oneshot. in terms of being updated?? hooked!! my biggest jetru project. 25k+ words and i’ve barely even STARTED

fic with the most notes: before i deleted it, bending expectations had the most hits, but now that i have, hooked does!! as for notes taken and outlining and other things... hooked. hooked is a HUGE undertaking you guys have no idea

a line or two from a wip: lemme see what i can find... digs through my snippets to give you a piece of a little oneshot i’ve been meaning to flesh out:

The war was over.

Somehow, against every single odd… it was over.

Of course it had ended in spectacle. Why wouldn’t it? The very sky itself had been a display of the sheer power it took to take their greatest enemy down, blinding hues of red and blue locked in a battle for dominance- for victory. 

And then, the red that entrenched the sky, threatening to saturate it in its bloody hues for all of eternity, was outshined, outright engulfed by the swaths of blue energy that grew brighter and more intense, eradicating its opposite, reducing it to nothing. And then there was silence.

favorite character to write for (and why): i only ever write these two exclusively, but it’s really a tie between haru and jet. both of them have these specific structures i try to follow closely, and their characterizations are extremely specific, but i think that’s what adds to the appeal. jet is admittedly harder to write than haru, but he’s also Fun to write. just seeing the difference between their respective povs which are so similar and yet so different, makes them an absolute joy to write, even if i suffer because there are just so many moving parts

character(s) you find hard to write: funnily enough, smellerbee’s kinda hard to write- i really like writing her spunky nature, but i give her very specific dialogue tics that i constantly have to keep track of. solely because of that, she’s pretty difficult to write, but i think it pays off!! i also have to flesh out her characterization a little more, and in general Write her more, but i like what i have so far!!

tagging: anyone who would like to do this!

[kerra-and-company]

Touching 20. For the prompts!

Heya @salamanderapocalypse and thanks so much for the prompt!! :) Sorry this took a couple days, but here you go! See under the cut for the rest of the fic. 

Warnings: Icebrood Saga spoilers, vague discussion of frostbite

Bjora Marches was cold and creepy and utterly unpleasant, and since Minei knew basic first aid, she was on medic duty.

Specifically, she was in charge of trying to keep soldiers from wandering off into the forest, chasing voices. And of trying to keep them alive.

That was usually difficult (if not impossible) and painful. Today, it was just annoying. No one was dying, but a squad of Vigil soldiers had stayed outside too long. She was in charge of treating their lieutenant, a very tall norn who looked utterly exhausted—probably from carrying two of their squad back to Jora’s Keep singlehandedly—and who had the oddest case of frostbite she’d ever seen.

“What did you do, stick your right hand and only your right hand into a snowdrift?” she muttered, dunking the lieutenant’s hand in a bowl of warm water. They snorted.

“No. I made the grave mistake of grabbing an Icebrood Svanir by the arm to stop him from cutting my head off,” they said. “And I didn’t have gloves on.”

“Why on Tyria did you not have gloves on?” Minei reached across the table to grab bandages, setting them next to her so they’d be ready when the injured tissue was warmer.

They shrugged. “I’ve never had trouble with the cold.”

Minei sighed, leaning back in her chair. “We’re going to have to sit here for a while. I’m Minei. She/her. What about you, Lieutenant?”

“Tanza’s fine. She/they.”

“You a fan of snow, Tanza?”

“Not in particular. But I do think it’s beautiful.”

It was Minei’s turn to snort. “That sounds like a fan to me.”

The corner of Tanza’s mouth curved up. “I was found in a cave as a baby by the women who would become my mothers. As far as we know, the only reason I didn’t freeze to death was snow.”

Minei blinked. She’d meant to make small talk, not share personal information. Then she processed what Tanza had said, and she furrowed her brow. “I don’t follow.”

“Do you know how some animals sleep through the winter?” Minei nodded. “Some of those animals dig tunnels made entirely out of snow and stay there for months. They don’t die because, funnily enough, snow walls actually trap heat.”

Tanza looked down, her eyes not quite focused. “There was a snowdrift in front of the cave when I was found. The snow protected me.”

See, child? It is as I told you—ice fortifies. Ice protects.

“Ice is not snow,” Minei snapped aloud.

Tanza’s eyes jumped back up. “Sorry?”

“Never mind.” Minei’s voice was tense. “Not talking to you.”

Their face shifted just a little. “Ah. Well. Okay.” They coughed. “The more important point is that I was saved. And I was lucky in more ways than one. I ended up with wonderful mothers who taught me to hunt and to respect the Spirits. What about your parents? What are they like?”

It depends which ones you mean, Minei thought. The ones I can’t remember? The one who raised me? Or the one who died for me?

Aloud, she said, “I had them. I don’t now.” Anticipating pity, which she did not want, she quickly added, “But I’m glad you do. Let’s take a look at your hand.” It was far too early for that, but it was a change of subject, at least.

Tanza carefully lifted her hand out of the water, and the two blinked.

“You didn’t tell me you were going to heal me with magic,” Tanza said.

“I didn’t,” Minei said, completely nonplussed. She grabbed Tanza’s hand, inspecting the palm and fingers for any sign of discoloration or chill. There was none. “I can’t heal that way. I don’t know how.”

More than that, no one on medic duty today could have healed Tanza. None of them had so much as talked to her, and, more importantly, none of them were capable. Jormag seemed to have a particular fondness for taking out healers, and the Vigil was still waiting for reinforcements.

Minei shook her head. She’d seen enough weirdness to last a thousand lifetimes; she wouldn’t let this unsettle her. “I have no idea what just happened,” she said. “But I’m still giving you a bandage.”

Tanza laughed, and Minei began wrapping their hand in gauze. The entire process was over in under a minute, and Minei secured the gauze with a pin.

“All right,” she said. “You should be good to go. But stay in the keep today, and wear gloves next time.”

“No promises,” Tanza said lightheartedly. She stood up and headed towards the door.

“Lieutenant!” Minei called after her.

They turned around. “Yes, Warmaster?”

“At least promise not to die, would you? We’ve lost too many soldiers already.”

Tanza grinned, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

[ad1thi]

and then there’s you | Au-gust Day 8: Superheroes/Superpowers AU

AU-gust masterlist

i took a brief hiatus but now im back!! this is possibly one of my favourite things ive written, ever

//

Steve was never expecting to get along with James. He didn't have the best start with Tony - even though he likes to believe that they've moved past that and have become good friends - and James' protective streak was well known. After all, the man broke records trying to fly back to New York fast enough and managed to show up just as the Hulk picked up Tony from the sky.

 He still remembers the way James landed around them with a thud, his faceplate snapping up and shoving all of them to the side so that he could get to Tony. He remembers the way Tony's face softened; the way James reached out with one metal encased hand to awkwardly rub his hair before settling on his shoulder.

 He remembers fiercely missing the time in his life when someone looked at him like that, like he was the reason the world continued turning.

 In retrospect, Steve honestly should've seen this whole thing coming, but he's still blindsided by the whole thing.

After the last of the Chitauri are felled down, Thor and James raging in the sky until they drop like flies, they regroup back at Stark Tower. It's almost too easy, over in a matter of hours, even though Steve feels like it's taken ages. They lock the Spectre away and clasp chains around Loki's body - and he can release a breath that he didn't know he was holding it.

 "Colonel Rhodes," he says, later, when they're all lounging in a beatdown shawarma joint, shamelessly taking advantage of an extremely grateful store-owner, “I just wanted to say thank you for all your help. Having two heavy hitters in the sky really helped us take down the stragglers. We couldn't have done it without you."

 James and Tony (from where he's resting on James' shoulder) both turn to him and give him identical looks, the kind that makes Steve want to duck his head and rub the back of his neck.

 "No need to thank me Cap," James says finally, "Just doing my civic duty." But he keeps looking at Steve, in a way that stirs feelings inside Steve that he thought had died when he went into the ice.

 Guess not.

 He nods once and is saved from answering by Tony grabbing the Colonel into another discussion. He takes another bite into his wrap, the food feeling wooden inside his mouth. Tony has one hand in the air, gesticulating wildly, but the other is wound around James, inter-twined with his own. It twists something inside Steve, and he tries to tell himself that it's just him missing his life before the ice. Before he was dropped into the twenty first century.

 He looks up to see Thor giving him an all too knowing look for a man who only met him a couple of hours ago. It makes him so uncomfortable that he stands abruptly, pulling both Tony and Rhodey out of their conversation.

 "I have to go," he says stiffly, "I have some work to attend to. I'll see you guys at the Helicarrier tomorrow at 0900 for a debrief," he nods at his team, "Colonel, it would good to meet you."

"Call me James," he says, nonplussed, "that’s what everyone who isn't this fella calls me," he thumbs at Tony; who's face twists in mock outrage.

 Steve doesn't say anything, spinning on his heel and all but running out of the shawarma joint, lest he dwell too strongly on the fact that James called Tony fella.

 Despite their horrendous first meeting, Steve and James actually get on fairly well. He's in New York a lot, despite still being on active duty. Ostensibly, it's because the War Machine - now rebranded as Iron Patriot armour needs regular check-ups and after what Tony and James mysteriously refer to as the Hammer incident - Tony is the only one who fiddles with it.

 It makes sense, since Tony designed the damn thing, but Steve knows that James is a genius of his own right. Privately, he thinks that James is equipped to deal with any and all faults in the armour, but he makes it a point to come for Tony. Watching your bestfriend strap a nuke to his back and fly into space with no concrete desire to return tends to do that to someone. Hell, if Bucky had pulled something like that he wouldn't have left him out of his sight.

 Besides, now that Steve has been living with him and gotten to know the man behind the mask so to speak, he can see why Tony inspires that kind of loyalty. The way he badly misjudged Tony still digs at him, even though Tony has waved off his apologies multiple times and promises that he harbours no bad feelings.

 Steve isn't complaining though. He likes that James visits, even though he frowns everytime James complains about how hard it was to finagle time with his superiors. Clint calls it his Captain America face, says that he makes it every time he thinks there's a fight. Steve doesn't know if he has a specific face, but he does know that it doesn't sit right with him that James has to fight that much to come stateside.

 That was the whole point of the War, that they would fight so that future generations don't have to. There's a lot to be said for the twenty first century. His country's proclivity with inserting themselves into every war that side of the Atlantic isn't one of them.

 Still, James' regular check-ups mean that Steve has gotten a chance to get to know Tony's bestfriend - since he winds up spending a lot of time in the workshop these days; sketching while Tony putters around. It's like white noise - the sound of a wrench or a blowtorch, interspersed with Tony and JARVIS sniping with each other, and it reminds Steve of the barracks, of the Howlies huddled around a single fire and sniping around each other.

 (It reminds him that he's no longer alone)

 When James comes however, the entire workshop lights up, and Steve along with it. Despite his best efforts, the smidgen of interest he'd felt in the shawarma joint has buried itself inside him, planted seeds and grown around his heart. It doesn't help that James is one of the most easy-going people he's ever met, the kind of person one gravitates to.

 He reminds Steve deeply of Bucky, but then again - Steve was never overcome with the urge to bear Bucky down and kiss him until they both couldn't breathe.

 "Steve!" James cries out, as the workshop doors open with the faintest snick, "It's good to see you."

Steve looks up from his sketchbook - where he's been drawing James funnily enough - and gives him a warm smile, "James. Good to see you. How's the Iron Patriot?"

"Don't call it that," Tony wags his wrench at Steve, looking like he's contemplating the merits of lobbing it at him, "You do not call it that in my workshop. This is a sacred space."

 "She's handling like a dream," James says over Tony, but he still walks over and pulls Tony in for a small hug before making his way over to Steve. The first time this had happened, Steve was almost jealous, but he's since realised that it's just a part of James' schedule. The need to physically remind himself that Tony is okay.

 "There's been a couple of tough missions," he continues with a grimace, after he's done surreptitiously looking Tony over and found his way to the couch where Steve is currently propped up. "I've definitely got some fresh bullet dents. But nothing Tony can't fix, isn't that right Tony?" he calls out to where Tony has turned back to his holo-screens and gets a half-hearted gesture in response that Steve takes to mean that Tony has heard James.

 "Enough about me though, not in the least because I could be arrested for going into detail," James reaches out and places his hand over Steve's; and it takes everything in Steve to not react to the touch, "You getting through the list okay?"

 A month into his stay at the Tower, Steve was listlessly chewing a banana in the Common Room when James came out for some water and saw him. "They taste weird," he'd said, when James asked if the banana had done something to offend him, "I guess I was just hoping it was something that hadn't changed."

James had regarded him for a second, and then pulled out a napkin from thin air, "You should make a list. It's what I tell most of my rookies, when they're going back after a long tour. Make a list of everything you want to catch up and work through it on your own pace. At the very least, it gives you something to do."

 Ever since then, Steve keeps a small black book on his person, filling it with a never-ending list of things. The entire team pitches in, depending on what it is that Steve is about to discover about the twenty-first century. Steve likes it best when James carves out time for him though.

 "I'm adding more things than I'm crossing out," Steve admits, and James clucks sympathetically, "but it's good. I've not Star Wars on my list next? And Tony made me promise to wait for you to come back so that both of you could introduce it to me together."

 James whistles lowly, but his eyes light up, "Oh I am so happy that you waited for me for this. Never listen to Tony, he thinks the prequels deserve rights," he bends down to whisper at Steve loudly, "we don't recognise the prequels."

"Is that prequels slander I hear in my safe haven?" Tony pipes up, spinning around to face them. He's still got the wrench in his hand, "Don't make me revoke your access honeybear because I will, don't test me."

 James holds up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm going to go freshen up," he says with a clap, "but after I'm back, we can discuss Star Wars strategy."

 Steve watches him go, until he disappears around the corner. When he looks back at the workshop, he sees Tony looking at him with a look that's half speculative, half sympathetic.

 "You know that nothing can happen right?" he says apropos of nothing, but Steve knows exactly what he's talking about, "It's against the law. DADT. If his superiors find out, his career is over. 's why me and him ended in the first place."

  Steve found out about Tony and James' history only a month ago, and the sting has faded. Mostly because he knows it was a long time ago, and neither of them harbour those feelings anymore.

 "I know," Steve says carefully, because Tony is still James' bestfriend, "and I wouldn't ask him to risk that. Doesn't change how I feel though. And if I have to wait, or hide it, or even ignore it until he's ready to deal with it - I'm ready for all of it."

 Tony nods, like it's the answer he's expected, "You'll be good for him Steve. He deserves someone who'll wait." Unlike me, who didn't goes unsaid.

 "I don't expect anything from him Tony," Steve says, looking Tony right in the eye, "but I can't just pretend I don't feel the way I do. Especially not if there's the barest possibility that he feels the same."

 Steve isn't generally good with these sorts of things, recognising interest. Still, he doesn't think he's imagined the looks he's gotten from James the past couple of times he's been over, over misread the touching, the talking, the borderline flirting.

 "He does," Tony confirms, "but like I said - nothing can happen." He says in a careful tone, and it takes Steve a couple seconds to cotton onto what Tony is implying. It leaves a rush through him, reminding him of back-alley trysts, protected by the shadows.

 "Nothing can happen," Steve repeats, and Tony pointedly turns his back as Steve leaps up from the couch and follows James out. He thinks about calling ahead, or maybe messaging - but there's a decent chance that James already knows about this conversation, since Tony wouldn't have brought it up unless James had expressly allowed him too.

 Steve might not know much about the twenty first century, but bro-code well enough.

 He knocks on James' door, thrumming with energy, and his heart stutters when James opens it in a towel; one around his waist, catching the droplets of water falling down his chest, and another around his neck.

 "Steve?" he asks, and there's no mistaking the hopeful tone in his voice. It confirms Steve's suspicions, that Tony was talking to him on behalf of James.

 Steve doesn't reply, just pulls him for a kiss.

 Fin

[queencarolinemikaelson]

A Mystery Never Fully Explained

//Klaroline AU Week// - Day 1 - All Human AU

x

There really was no two ways about it, Klaus Mikaelson was a diva.

A prima donna, even.

There was an urban legend in the theatre industry that once, while rehearsing his role as Beast in Beauty and the Beast, Klaus opted to sit his dressing room, rather than ‘save’ his leading lady from the wolf attack at the beginning of act two.

“I was just throwing the moron to the wolves,” Klaus allegedly said smugly, to the rightly irate director.

Yep, he was biggest drama queen in the theatre industry.

All who worked with him agreed Klaus was actually a soprano in a baritone’s body. Though they would never say it to his face. Nope, to his face, all were perfectly lovely.

Because, no matter how many three-year-old-esque tantrums he threw, or crazy demands he slung at a company, or assistants he fired, Klaus Mikaelson was still the best.

Contemptuous he may have been until the very last second, but once he was under the spotlight, he was magic.

No note, nor line was missed. His honey voice caressed every ear like a lover. His impeccable acting could bring to life every character from King Herod to Jean Valjean.

So naturally, when casting for a reinvigorated West End production of Phantom of the Opera, whom else was to set to play the titular character?

Rehearsals certainly weren’t easy for the crew.

The nature of the show meant already two divas needed to be cast for the roles of Christine and Carlotta. How were they to cope with a third.

But they had managed to make it to opening day without too many scuffles until – 

“What the bloody hell do you mean Bonnie’s in the hospital!?” Klaus roared. “Who is going to do my make up?”

“Have some compassion, Niklaus!” Elijah, Klaus’ brother – who also happened to be his manager, (and what was more pertinent, the only one who could make any sense of a tantrumming Klaus) – sighed. “She is in the hospital, after a car accident!”

“We are opening in three and a half bloody hours, Elijah! I refuse to have my Phantom butchered by some blonde-bimbo-beauty-school-drop-out, playing face paint, just because Bonnie decided to have an accident!”

“Oh be reasonable,” Elijah snapped, though made the mental note to tell Ms Bennett just how indignant Klaus was about working with anyone else. Surely that was some vote of confidence? “She was hit by a car!”

Klaus glowered, but didn’t return fire. Even Klaus, diva or not, knew car accidents were bad.

“There are two options,” Elijah said, after both men had a moment to calm themselves. “You can have your makeup done by the associate head of make up. This will require you to leave your dressing room, and join some of the other cast members.”

“I don’t mingle with the peasants, Elijah,” Klaus pouted, petulantly. “They chatter and natter about inane things, and I cannot focus on what is important. Which is the work!”

“Fine! The second option is you trust Bonnie’s substitute. A Ms Caroline Forbes, currently the head of artistry on Broadway’s Phantom of the Opera.”

Klaus rolled his eyes intensely. He hated Broadway. He hated working on Broadway. And with people who worked on Broadway. And just people in general, but that was beside the point.

“Brother, my feelings about Broadway aside, I’m not sure if you’ve seen a globe recently. But this is London. Not New York City.”

It was Elijah’s turn to roll his eyes – honestly maybe it was time to quit, and live as far away from Klaus as possible.

“I’m well aware of the geography, Niklaus,” Elijah groaned, rather uncharacteristically. “Ms Forbes, an old friend of Ms Bennett, is currently visiting London. Had tickets for tonight’s show, in fact, so is very well placed to aid us tonight.”

“Fine,” Klaus grumbled, after a moment of contemplation – though there wasn’t much to contemplate, no make up was so bad that he would endure the blather of other cast members. “This Broadway woman will have to do. But I refuse to be pleasant to her.”

“I would expect nothing more of you, Niklaus.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door of Klaus’ dressing room.

 “Ahh, that will be her.”

 “You did not just approve her to come backstage before consulting me brother!” Klaus growled.

“Well,” Elijah said, buttoning his suit jacket as he stood up, an air of finality in his tone. “As you so eloquently put it, brother you’re ‘opening in three and a half bloody hours’, there really isn’t any time for your arguments.”

Elijah strode away from the sulking Klaus, and greeted the woman on the other side of the door.

“Ms Forbes,” he said politely. “Please come in, and thank you so much for this, the company is indebted to you.”

“Please, call me Caroline,” Klaus heard a bright, cheery voice say, though she was still blocked from his sightline. “Anything for Bonnie!”

“And how is she after the accident?”

“Shaken,” the woman said, her bubbly voice suddenly laced with worry. “Her injuries are mostly superficial, but her arm will be in plaster for the next few weeks.”

“I see,” Elijah said, before they both came round the corner, and Klaus was able to get a good look her for the first time. “This is Niklaus.”

“Hi!” she said, smiling a smile so bright, he should have been wearing sunglasses. “Caroline.”

She held out her hand for him to shake, but Klaus just looked spitefully at it, before looking away.

Klaus couldn’t believe his misfortune. She was a blonde bimbo.

“Right,” Caroline said, a little disheartened, as she withdrew her hand.

“Anyway, Miss Forbes, I’m terribly sorry, but I have to dash. The world does not cease for Niklaus, although he’d like to believe it would. I’ll catch up with you both later.”

The two of them chuckled together, much to Klaus’ chagrin, and then Elijah left, the same way Caroline had just arrived.

“So,” Caroline said, sitting herself daintily beside him. “You and Bonnie have been working on some pretty cool techniques for your look.”

Klaus said nothing, just stared pointedly at her.

“She took me through her plans for tonight, anything you –”

“We actually open very soon, and I would very much appreciate it if you just got on with it,” Klaus snipped. “Though try not to talk, love. It will be a bit painful otherwise.”

“There’s no need to be rude,” she said, as she raised her eyebrows coolly. “I was just going to ask, if there’s anything you wanted to tell me before you get started. Latex allergy, warm ups that need doing, that kind of thing.”

“No, nothing to share,” he muttered. “And as if I would need to do warm ups.”

“Okay!” Caroline said brightly, trying to ignore his cockiness. “Then let’s get –”

“I do warm up, but not near the help,” Klaus interrupted. “If you want a free show then go back to Broadway.”

“Yep, I get the picture. I’m just going to –”

“Urgh, the quality of Broadway is nothing on the talent of those of us on West End.”

“Mmhmm, I understand, Broadway is the worst. But please –“

“In fact, I swear Broadway casting directors just goes to Times Square and nab any old riff-raff street performer to make up their ensembles. It’s lunacy _”

“Uh huh, I get it, Broadway suck, but Klaus I really –“

“I’m literally the best in the country. I have won multiple tony awards, even a grammy award. I have more original cast recordings under my belt than –”

In years to come, Caroline would swear herself black and blue that it was an accident. That it was a mere, yet mildly severe, slip of the hand brought about by loss of concentration because of Klaus’ continual ramblings.

And she would never live it down. But she would also be revered by many because she actually managed to make Klaus Mikaelson shut the hell up for once in his life.

For, at that exact moment, Caroline’s deft hands wiped fast drying liquid latex over Klaus’ mouth, and Klaus, who was completely stunned by the movement, did not move quickly enough before the latex dried.

Sealing it completely shut.

“Oh my god, Klaus, I’m so sorry!” Caroline said, with all the correct emotions. She certainly sounded convincingly mortified, until she followed up the with a quirked eyebrow and the comment, “though, try not to talk, love. It will be a bit painful otherwise.”

And, to Caroline’s amazement, Klaus stopped squirming, stopped trying to form words when his amplifier was completely blocked, and Caroline was finally able to get to work.

“What a happy little accident,” Caroline said, jovially, now a little more at ease that he wasn’t being so obnoxious. “Might just snap a little picture, I’m sure Elijah would appreciate it.” 

Klaus narrowed both his eyes at her.

“Oh? Don’t like that idea?”

Klaus just remained stock still, the menacing look still etched on his face.

“But you are so cute when you’re not talking!” Caroline joked, before quickly realising what she said, and going a lovely shade of magenta.

Somehow, Klaus managed to smirk, even without full use of his mouth.

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” Caroline said, with all the bravado of someone trying to dig themselves out of a hole. “You know you’re cute, why deny it?”

Klaus just shrugged, and dismissively inspected his nails.

“Fine, let’s get on with it,” Caroline said. “And if you’re a good sport, I’ll dissolve the latex before it’s time to sing!”

xxx

“All done!” Caroline beamed, happily inspecting her work.

It was a little under two hours since Caroline began Klaus’ transformation, and a little under twenty minutes since she freed him from his gag.

In the past twenty minutes, even though he had the option of railroading her for having the audacity to seal his damn mouth shut, Klaus found himself, funnily enough, keeping his damn mouth shut.

Experiencing Caroline as she worked was rather mesmerising.

She certainly wasn’t anywhere near just a blonde-bimbo-beauty-school-drop-out as he feared. She was very talented, extremely precise, and had an almost unparalleled eye for detail.

But further than that, at any given moment, her face was liable twist and change, letting him know exactly what was going on. It was rather endearing.

She filled the silence in with bits of chatter, about the different steps she was up to in his transformation, about her life, and just about many inane things really.

And, though Klaus despised the inane, coming from Caroline it felt natural and a little bit lovely.

“You do look fantastic,” Caroline said, proudly, spinning him around in his chair so he could more closely inspect her work. “Definitely like a weird dungeon dweller who’d fall in love with beautiful young things who sing to you!”

“Then you nailed the brief love,” Klaus quipped. “I don’t recognise myself.”

“Well, I would be worried if you did!” Caroline giggled, squeezing his shoulder briefly. “Then you would have to admit to me that you’re a weird dungeon dweller who’d fall in love with beautiful young things who sing to you!”

“I’d never admit it, love,” he said nonchalantly. “Though, I have to say sincerely, your work is impeccable. Bonnie’s work is excellent, but you’ve provided just an extra spritz of something else.”

“Not bad for a Broadway babe, huh?” Caroline winked, nudging him with her hip.

“Not bad at all.”

In that moment of eye contact that so often follows a tease, Caroline was stolen by the glint in Klaus’ eye.

“So umm,” she said, looking away. “Where to next for you, Mr Phantom, sir?”

“Warm up, last minute director notes, back here for a costume and touch ups.”

“I’ll stay here until you’re ready for your touch ups.”

“I look forward to it.”

And with a wink, Klaus was off.

xxx

A few hours later, Caroline was back in front of Klaus’ face, tenderly wiping away the residual make up.

The show had gone off seamlessly. And honestly, Klaus was so completely on cloud nine by how it all went, he was actually being pleasant to those around him.

And now he was with Caroline again, and that was a joy in and of itself. Though he’d never ever admit it to anyone.

Klaus couldn’t help noting how soft and delicate Caroline’s fingers, and the stroked along his skin at different places.

“Nearly done,” Caroline murmured, concentrating on removing a particularly stubborn strip of latex. “Nearly done.”

“Not a problem, love,” Klaus said, absently. “This is the most relaxed I’ve felt in months.”

“Opening night behind you,” she replied. “That’s got to be a relief.”

“Mmm.”

He shut his eyes, and felt himself get mildly lost in the sensations, until –

“Klaus,” she said, softly.

“Mmm?”

“We’re finished.” 

“Oh.”

“Umm,” Caroline said, searching for something to say. “I guess I’m done for the night, unless…”

“Unless?” Klaus prompted.

“Well, I’m really hungry, but I don’t know where is any good around here…”

“Are you asking me out?” Klaus smirked.

“What! No?” Caroline blustered. “I mean, I am asking you to go out, but not out. Not like on a date out.”

“Glad to hear you’re so indignant at the idea of a date with me,” Klaus teased in mock offence.

“I’m not indignant! Dating you would be fun, I think! But this wasn’t a date! I’m just hungry, and I thought you would be too!”

“Dating me would be fun would it?”

“Oh shut up. I’m leaving.”

Caroline grabbed her coat and huffily stalked from the room.

“But you’re hungry, and don’t know where to eat,” Klaus grinned, hurriedly gathering his own things so he could follow her out.

“I can google it, I just thought company might be nice,” she snipped. “Glad you arrested me of my illusions so promptly.”

“You wound me, love!” he laughed, catching her hand in his, and stroking a thumb along it gently – apparently her skin was as soft under his hands, as it was on his face. “Come on, let me take you to my favourite post show hang out. You’ll love it.”

Caroline stopped walking, and narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“Not a chance, love,” Klaus quipped.

Caroline couldn’t help the wry smile stretch across her lips.

“Fine.”

And so it was, the two went to that post show hang out that night. And the night after that. And the one after that. Until Caroline had to leave, back to her home, back to Broadway.

And, in a mystery never fully explained, Klaus put aside his distaste for the iconic New York creative hub, and somehow ended living in New York, reprising his role as the Phantom on Broadway, only a few short months later. Before going on to perform many more incredible shows there.

It was a mystery.

Unless you were familiar with Caroline Forbes.

Then it wasn’t much of a mystery after all.

 xxx

This prompt came from ~somewhere~ literal years ago! “You’re the one person who can do my elaborate stage makeup so every night you spend half an hour in close proximity to my face and I am distressed”. I started writing this in 2015, and it finally was in a state that was nice and shareable. Hope you enjoyed! Happy AU week klaroliners!

[let-it-raines]

another kind of green (2/?)

Emma Swan spends her days in pretty white dresses and heavy layers of makeup. Day after day and dress after dress, she poses for pictures and acts like she’s in love and having the happiest day of her life with the man standing next to her.

It’s not. This is all a gig, and at the end of the day, she’s no longer the girl in the pretty dress who’s faking getting married for a magazine cover or a wedding convention. Instead, she’s the girl who probably never wants to get married.

Little does she know, she already is.

Rating: Mature

a/n: things get explained a little more in this chapter, I promise ☺️

For the lovely @xemmaloveskillianx​ as part of my fic giveaway. Thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke​ for reading over this for me!

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 |

-/-

“Your husband, love.”

Emma blinks at him, far more than what’s considered normal most likely, and he really should have introduced himself in a different way.

Or reintroduced himself if the look on her face is any indication.

Killian isn’t entirely sure of the best way to go about this, obviously. It’s been years since he felt awkward around a woman, but this isn’t exactly a simple situation where he walks up to a woman at a bar, offers to buy her a drink, talks to her and dances with her for an hour or so before they head back to one of their apartments.

This isn’t a situation where he loves a woman, has her love him in return, and then has her leave the engagement ring on the kitchen counter before she disappears from his life.

This is…different.

Obviously.

And all of the words he rehearsed on his drive here completely slipped his mind and are probably back in Vegas instead of Boston. That’s about three-thousand miles away, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get them back.

“Oh,” Emma laughs, but it’s most definitely a pity laugh. “You’re the guy who played my husband at that thing. The – ”

“The wedding convention, yeah, but also I –  ”

“Wait,” Emma starts, closing her front door so that he can only see half of her face now, the worried confusion turning into actual worry, “what the hell are you doing here? How do you know where I live?”

“You gave me your address.”

“I would not have done that.”

“You did.”

“I did not.”

Killian sighs and reaches his hand around his back to dig in the back pocket of his jeans to find the crumpled piece of paper that Emma gave him the night they met. “Look, it’s got your name and number on it, and there’s a little scribbling of –  ”

She opens the door so that she can snatch the piece of paper out of his hands, reading it with squinted eyes before they widen until they’re almost comically big. She doesn’t have on makeup like she did that day, but the green of her eyes is still so vibrant. “I’d say you’re a liar, but this is my handwriting. I only wrote Boston, though. I didn’t write my address. And look, dude, as good as the sex was, I’m not going to sleep with a one-night stand again, especially if that someone is creepy enough to show up at my door. So, goodbye, or something like that.”

And with that, Emma slams the door in his face until it shakes in its frame.

Of-fucking-course.

This most likely would have gone better if he’d not decided to joke around at first, but to be fair, it wasn’t a joke.

Sighing, Killian reaches his hand up to knock on Emma’s door once more. He would give anything not to be here right now. He’s got about twenty other things he needs to be doing today, but he can’t do most of them until this is over.

“Love,” he yells through the door when she doesn’t answer. “Swan.”

“I will call the cops on you,” she shouts back.

Irony is everywhere, he thinks to himself.

“Funnily enough, the cops are the reason I’m here in the first place.”

There’s a clatter inside the apartment before he can hear the chain on her door being pulled, and then the door is opening with the chain still attached so that he can only see half of Emma’s face. He thinks she’s even more beautiful than he remembers her being, which is pretty much impossible since he remembers her being the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen.

There is just something about the emerald of her eyes that he can’t quite forget.

“What the hell are you talking about…”

“Killian Jones,” he fills in, realizing that she likely doesn’t remember his name. She remembers they slept together, though, and he’s relieved over that for a myriad of reasons. They both drank a lot of champagne that night, and he doesn’t want to be sleeping with someone who is too drunk to remember it even if he’d had the same amount to drink. “And look, I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a lunatic, but two weeks ago, we got married.”

“We got fake married. I know we had a lot of champagne, but none of that was real. You know that, right? It was all pretend and scripted and still super weird.”

How the hell is he supposed to explain this when he can’t quite explain it to himself?

“I do know that, love,” he mumbles, scratching behind his ear and then reaching into his coat pocket. He really should have put all of this stuff into a folder instead of every pocket he has. That’s what Liam would have done in a situation like this. Well, no, Liam wouldn’t have gotten himself into a situation like this in the first place. “Take a look at these, if you’d please, and then give me five minutes to explain everything. We can keep talking here, or we can go to a coffee shop and talk so you’re more comfortable.”

Emma glances up at him, taking him in, before she reaches her hand forward and takes the pictures. “If these are dick pics, I will call the cops. I have no hesitations.”

“I can assure you they aren’t.”

She huffs, but then she looking down at the handful of photographs. Her face morphs from annoyed to nothing to utter disbelief. He watches it all happen while knowing that he made the exact same faces while seeing these pictures for the first time.

Well, nearly the same faces. He thinks it might have taken him longer to figure out what exactly is in the pictures.

“Are we getting married by an Elvis impersonator in these pictures?”

“Aye.”

“And they’re real pictures? They’re not photoshopped or anything as part of your arrestable stalking offense against me?”

“They’re real.”

“Like, are they real as in we took them as a joke or real as in we got married in Vegas like we were in a bad romantic comedy?”

“Both?”

“Is that a question?”

“It was an answer.” He doesn’t know much about the lass, but he’s pretty sure she’s about to punch him in the throat if he doesn’t start explaining things soon. “Listen, Swan,” he starts, holding his hands up and plastering what has to be the most unconvincing smile on his face, “I’ve known about this for a week, and this is as far as I’ve gotten with how that night went. We worked all day, got tipsy on free champagne, went back to my hotel and had sex because we both wanted to, and then we proceeded to drink all of the complimentary alcohol until we were drunk off our asses and wandering around Las Vegas applying for a quickie marriage license and then getting married by a quite frankly awful Elvis impersonator So yeah, like a bad romantic comedy, as you’d say.”

He expects the slamming of the door in his face. He really does. He would slam the door in his face too if he showed up at a practical stranger’s apartment spewing this nonsense, but it’s still a shock when all of the sudden he can no longer see Emma’s face and all he can hear is the loudest screaming of the word “fuck” that he’s ever heard in all of his years of life.

Killian had nearly the same reaction when he found out he was married because the Boston PD told him that he’d lied and failed part of his background check because of it.

He’d said it even more loudly when he got home to his apartment later that day and found an envelope mailed to him by the wedding chapel full of pictures from his wedding.

Talk about timing.

What happens in Vegas inevitably does not stay in Vegas, and whoever allowed them to get a marriage license – a legitimate one at that – and then get married while drunk off their asses should be fired from their job. They’re either better actors than they have any right being or the clerk did not care that they were far from sober.

How does he not remember? How does Emma not remember either? They weren’t drunk when they slept together, but they were easily on their way after. And then…what made two practical strangers decide that getting married was a good idea? Was it the fact that they were both attracted to each other? Was it the lore of Vegas and all of those goddamn clichés? Maybe it was the fact that they’d spent the entire day pretending that it was the happiest day of their lives, and all of those thoughts and the falsities of the day seeped over into their thoughts and lead them to a chapel.

He’s never been black-out drunk in his life, despite the times where he was damn near close after Liam’s death and Milah leaving him, and now he never wants to do that again.

“Swan,” Killian sighs, knocking on her door again, “I understand that you’re likely in shock. It’s a lot to take in, but I really need you to talk to me about this so we can figure out how to get it reversed. I think we should be able to get an annulment, but I haven’t actually talked to a lawyer yet. I was waiting to talk to you first.”

There’s no answer. He’s probably never going to see her again.

But then the door is flinging open, and she’s walking out of her apartment with her purse slung over her shoulder and her keys in her hand so that she’s locking the door behind her. “I’ve got a dress fitting in ten minutes, and my manager will kill me if I miss it. So if you have something else to say, you’ve got the seven minutes it takes me to get to the shop to say it.”

Killian is chasing after her now, using his longer strides to catch up to him as she practically power walks out of her apartment building and out onto the streets of Boston, and even though she must want to know more about the fact that they are husband and wife (bloody hell is that still perplexing to think about), she is obviously itching to get away from him.

So he attempts to explain everything as best as he can. He relays his memories of the night, trying to fill in some blanks with her, and while she says she remembers them sleeping together and then deciding to go get something to eat afterwards, everything else is a hazy mess for her. There’s some memory of wandering around various hotels on the strip, but she chalked that up to a foggy dream that she soon forgot.

It was real.

And so is the fact that he only does the modeling stuff to pay the bills and that he’s trying to be hired by the Boston PD, and when he tells her that, she turns around and runs her eyes up and down his frame.

“Oh, you want to be a cop? Is that what’s up with the shorter haircut?”

“What?”

“Your hair is shorter than it was. It’s a neater cut. It was kind of long two weeks ago, and I don’t know, most cops have shorter hair even if yours is a little longer at the top.”

“Why, love,” he teases, leaning into her space, “I thank you for noticing. Couldn’t help staring at me, could you?”

“You wish.”

“Aye, I do.”

Emma huffs and turns away, returning to her quick pace. Yep, he’s definitely always going to be chasing this woman if he hopes to get anything accomplished.

“Listen, Swan, I know this must be confusing, but I’d really like to get all of this handled as quickly and as easily as possible, and I need you to come to my precinct where I’m trying to get hired and explain to the officers that I didn’t lie about being married. I simply didn’t know that I was, but in a way, I’m relieved that we both live in the same city. That’s convenient.”

She comes to a stop in front of a store with a row of wedding dresses, and he nearly plows into her before stopping himself. From the roll of her eyes and her arms crossed over her chest, he can tell she’s not amused. “What’s your district?”

“A-1. It’s – ”

A smile curves onto her lips, but it disappears just as quickly. “I know where it is. Arrange a meeting with your commanding officers or whatever, and I’ll come meet you there. Then we can figure out how to get this marriage annulled because no offense, but I’d rather not stay married.”

“How do you want me to get in touch with you?”

“You have my number, Jones. You can use it. I’d prefer that to you showing up at my door again.”

At that, she’s turning on her heels and walking away from him and into the dress shop. Killian’s got no clue what the hell just happened or if he actually solved any of his problems. All he knows is that it’s over with, and he’s craving a glass of rum.

One he likely shouldn’t have given the situation he’s in, and really, he should probably channel all of his frustration into a run or something like that. He can pass all of the physical portions of his training exams, but he’d like to stay on top of things so he doesn’t fall behind.

His phone rings in his coat pocket, and Killian pulls it out to answer the call. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Ariel hisses out.

“Back Bay. Why?”

“You have a meeting with the boat tour company over their ads in twenty minutes.” “Shit. I do, don’t I?”

“Yep. How did you forget that? You never forget anything.”

“Ah, I don’t know, A,” he lies, turning on his heels and starting a quick jog back to the garage where his car is parked. “I’m stressed over my interview and all for the department, and all of my other gigs have slipped my mind.”

“You’re going to kill it. Don’t be stressed.”

“That doesn’t help.” “Yeah, well, neither does you missing appointments when this is how both of us are currently getting paid.”

“You have other clients besides me.”

“Yes, but not all of my clients are the younger brother of my husband’s best friend.”

Killian’s heart pangs, but he knows it’s true, and it’s what has him running like a madman through the streets so he’s not late for this appointment where all they’re going to do is look at his face and decide if it can sell people on taking boat tours around the city. It may be the vainest job in the world, but a job is a job.

At least for now.

One day, just like this damned accidental marriage, it will come to an end, and Killian will be able to move on with his life like he’s wanted to for years now.

Or at least he can hope.

-/-

-/-

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You can be removed or added at any time! ❤️

[altcvnningham]

1, 3, 5, 15, 18 and 20 😳😳😳😳

thank you for the ask!!! (also superior url omg 👁👄👁🤲🏻)

also my answers here are suuuuper long, because i’m a rambling idiot who’s way too involved in my OC’s. so uhhhh sorry in advance,,,,,

1. what radio station(s) do you listen to?

Vana’s a Samurai stan. She wishes she wasn’t. But, y’know, Morro Rock it is. Once upon a time when she was an even angrier teen, though, she’d listen to shit just like Ritual FM.

(My music taste is all over the place, and though blues is technically my fav bc i love old music, i never listen to it in 2077. So I switch between Body Heat, the Dirge, Vexelstrom for like 2 songs, and ofc, Morro Rock. But of all stations, there’s at least one song that i HATE so I can never stick to one for a whole ride sknsksjsjs)

i think i got the names right?? Idk yall i dont have it in front of me ndndndndhjs

3. how did you feel about Johnny that first night in the apartment, and how does it differ from what you feel now after everything?

so i’m gonna cut a read-more here because i decided to just lore dump Vana x Johnny here so uhhhhhh rip also //SPOILERS//

Vana is an extremely, seriously private, guarded person. Before Johnny, Panam, Kerry- Jackie was the only person she’d ever truly let near her, to get to know her. So obviously waking up to someone else living inside her fucking head was one of the worst things that’s ever happened to her. Her past is also something she’s not particularly proud of, so Johnny getting to witness all that is traumatising. Getting Johnny out of her head was priority number one, even if digging the chip out would kill her.

But after getting fucked over by the VBs, and both of them thinking she was gonna die, Johnny takes her to that abandoned hotel in Pacifica- it’s the first time he’s given her even a sliver of kindness, and the first time she’s ever openly expressed her fears to him, even if he could already sense them before. Oaths and promises are something she holds to incredibly high importance, so obviously when Johnny gives her his dog-tags, ‘proof of my promise’, she never, ever lets them go, never takes them off. (she still doesn’t. they keep her grounded. holding them to calm herself has become a reflex, for whatever reason.)

Everything just seemed to slowly change after that. For two people who hate vulnerability, it’s the only thing that helped them actually see each other. As the Relic continues to take over, they both understand each other more, feel each other more- and eventually it becomes hard to discern where Vana ends and Johnny begins. In cliché Johnny x V fashion like yeah duh it goes further,,,, cockwhore!Vana,,,,,, but with that they also start to become extremely possessive and jealous over one another- Johnny immediately on the defensive about whoever comes close to her, Vana selfishly hiding and keeping Johnny’s existence to herself, even if it slows the hunt for a remedy to the chip- to the point of seriously toxic co-dependency. It’s full of volatile ups-and-downs, fights and make-ups, and Vana almost comes to like the fact that she never has to explain nor hide what thoughts and feelings pass through her mind, no matter how dark or vulnerable. She prefers most things to remain unsaid, but values the fact that they both have a clear, transparent understanding of each other regardless.

But there's also... softer moments. When Johnny puts aside his ego for once, he learns to like the quiet that Vana does, brief as it can be sometimes. He'll sort of just... stay around the room, even if just to procrastinate retreating back into her head, because they realise they like each other's silent, wordless company. He'll wake her up from nightmares, hold her neck and kiss her back to sleep, or until the sun comes up, if she can't. It's all tender things they often pretend doesn't even happen, out of pride, I think, but they both know deep down that those are really the best parts.

Comes to a place where she suddenly hits a wall, and realises, I don’t want him to leave.

She’s never the same again after Mikoshi.

(But uhh anyway fuck V I’m horny on main for Keanu so i was here for the whole riiiiiide yeeeeeee)

5. how do your loved ones (LI, found family, etc) feel about you being a merc? or if you’ve given up the life now that everything’s finished, what was their reaction?

Vana grew up in a rich corp family, and after all the shit she’s endured just to appease her father, don’t think anyone could hate corps more than she does (some details of her past here!!) So when Arasaka kicks her out and Jackie finally convinces her to start merc work, it’s amazing how quickly she slips into the role, almost like she was made for it- an anonymous face within the city, free to roam and drift as she wants, relying on herself and herself only.

Vana works quickly and quietly enough (though not at all with clean hands), relying on stealth and netrunning, so she doesn’t cause too much of a noise that’d have her loved ones (rare as they are) all too concerned. Judy isn’t scared Vana’d be caught in gunfire, because when Vana works, her targets rarely know she’s even there. She’s smart, cunning. Panam appreciates that these skills have helped her out, so she can’t complain. River- who is unfortunately more fond of Vana than she is of him, given that she’s not too comfortable at accepting affection- isn’t too happy about the life she leads, but hey, it’s her skills as a merc and as one of NC’s most adept netrunners that he even stood a chance of finding Randy as quick as he did, so he feels indebted to her for that. Kerry thinks it’s fuckin awesome that she gets to do as she wants and provides for herself, bestieeees

Given she isn’t all that close with many people- keeping her distance and all- the only people who seriously worry about her are folks like Vik, Misty, and Mama Welles, especially the latter two, who knew how much Jackie meant to her, and how easily she cracks under the weight of grief. The only thing, really, that concerns everybody around her, is how insatiable her bloodlust becomes, and how much she'd throw away just to try and quell it.

Johnny’s just in it for the ride. Rather she work for herself than a filthy corp, anyway.

After Mikoshi, losing Johnny, making it to the major leagues, she fuckin... just doesn't care anymore. She hates the big glass house that was practically forced onto her (reminds her too much of her stifling corp childhood), she hates that she has 20 cars that clog up her garage and not just her trusty red Yaiba Kusanagi, hates that folks keep giving her all this shiny golden shit that she doesn't want, like any of it's worth a damn. Since then she's hardly in one place- never at home if she can help it, and either wanders aimlessly around the streets and crashes over at Kerry's to sleep through grief. It isn't the merc life she wants to leave, but major leagues turned out to be a glittering pile of dogshit she wants no part in. She only really stays there because Jackie would've wanted it.

(i’m a lazy bitch like i don’t wanna be a merc. i wanna be one of those cute npc’s with the glowy earrings and bunny backpacks and skimpy plastic skirts, who picks up noodles on the way home to go watch watson whore. in my ideal life i am NOT the main character snnsmsnsks)

15. which NPC is your bff?

Kerry. Kerry is Vana’s ride or die. No fucking questions asked. Kerry’s the only person (besides Johnny, i guess) as close to her as Jackie was. He’s really the only person that ever gets her to smile, like really, stupidly, goofily smile, and despite being almost complete opposites, they just understand each other so well. Whenever they need something, they're the first person they'll call. Happens so often that just as Vana sifts through her contacts to find his, Kerry's already calling for her first. They're practically joint at the hip.

They both live loud, fast lives, but also know how to make time for silence and introspection, something they both need to stay grounded. Vana doesn't buy into his zen-wellness-yoga crap, but sure, she tries copying a couple moves while he's doing it on a lazy afternoon, before scoffing how this is fuckin' dumb and retreats back to the couch. Also, as much as she hates being reminded of the wealth that came with her corpo upbringing, she loves using up all his expensive products, and tends to klep a bottle of his shampoo when she runs out. Cute how she thinks he doesn't notice.

After what happened in Mikoshi, she practically lives at Kerry's place, just dozing away miserably as he lounges by the pool, or curl up on the couch to mindlessly watch his old Samurai tapes (he doesn't like it much, but if it helps her through whatever shit she's going through, he's not gonna take that away from her). On better days, when she actually pulls herself out of bed, he teaches her to play guitar, slipping in a couple tricks Johnny taught him. Funnily enough, the whole thing helps him find some closure too.

( me,, I need a girl like Panam in my life to endorse all of my stupid ideas )

18. what’s your dream cyberware (either something that was shown in lore that wasn’t available in game or mental creation of your own)?

I don’t have access to the tabletop lore stuff rn so i’m gonna pull this out my ass jsjsns

Anything that helps Vana become more deadly at stealth and netrunning. The most eddies she’s ever blown are on increasingly powerful cyberdecks, cooling systems, netrunning gear she can comfortably slip on under a jacket and boots- she likes convenience and functionality, but she needs it to be comfortable, too. She’d fucking kill for anything that lets her scale silently up walls and across ceilings, though- like a spider- and anything that lets her get her hands reeeeal bloody, but quietly. Guess that’s just called a knife, though.

(Me?? Fuck uhhh man i just want synth-skin that looks normal but also shimmers all pink n cute. Literally wanna be an edward cullen sparkly lookin mf. Also, i’m sorry but scanning shit w Kiroshi’s are so dope that’s literally all i want?? Idk i’m boring and mantis blades freak me out uhh)

20. is there anyone you’re crushing on that’s unavailable? (yes this is the “what romance option(s) are you foaming at the mouth for” question)

Answered here :)

(And i’ll say it again, PLACIIIIIIIDE,)

[mwolf0epsilon]

Story about Joey being a vampire hunter and Sammy being a vampire. You can bring in Norman ((human or vampire))to to safe him

Summary: In which Sammy is sometimes a very ugly bat, and his boss might want to kill him. Normal workplace issues.

---

[[MORE]]

     Hypsignathus monstrosus. Commonly known as the hammer-headed bat (or big-lipped bat if you preferred a more unusual denominator), is a frugivorous species of megabat widely distributed in West and Central Africa. It's the only member of its genus, Hypsignathus, which in itself is part of the Epomophorimi tribe alongside other four unique genera.

The largest bat in continental Africa, with wingspans approaching 1 m (or about 3 ft), and the males being almost twice as heavy as the females. It's a sexually dimorphic bat species, with differences including several adaptations that help males produce and amplify vocalizations. Mainly the differing size of the males' larynges, which are about three times as large as those of females, and the large resonating chambers on their faces that give them such a distinct look. 

The females in turn, appear more fox-like as is the norm of most megabat species.

All in all, information that really didn't help Sammy in the slightest, as he tried to make sense of three different books that, in theory, should give him a vague idea of what the hell was going on with his body this time...

     To put it in simpler terms, he'd turned into a bat, as per say of those ye olde queer tales of vampires that were capable of shifting into those little chittering flying rats that flew out of caves and dreary old castles at night… 

But then what he'd seen reflected (because most modern mirrors were not backed by silver or other such pure metals) had most definitely not looked like a squashed-nosed winged rat. It had looked truly like a freakish monster. 

But that was getting a little ahead of himself really...

There were things one had to note beforehand to really comprehend what Sammy Lawrence was currently going through: Starting with the attack.

Two years ago he'd been assaulted by what he'd once assumed to be a creature of mere legend, although at the time he'd thought it was a random dog attack because what had taken a chunk off of him looked inhuman (more like a very warped looking pug-snoutted thing now that he really thought about it). 

On awakening the next morning at the hospital, he'd been informed that he'd henceforth be barred from entering such facilities because he now suffered from vampirism, and that his name and records had been archived by some secret governmental agency that then directed him to a sub-civilization of non-humans. 

Shocked and confused, he'd been quickly integrated into a coven that took no time to teach him the basics. 

He was to live life as if nothing had changed, hidden among mere humans, yet he'd be judged as a pest by those that recognized specific documentation he now had to carry for "security reasons" (aka clearance for services to deny him due to his ailment).

Oh and he had to cope with the harrowing realization that food did nothing for him other than eliciting a form of pleasure (through stimulating his taste buds) and that he needed to instead find nourishment in human blood, otherwise he'd either die or go into an uncontrollable frenzied state (in which case he might end up dead anyway because if he so much as killed a person he'd be put down like a rabid dog).

No pressure right?

Funnily enough, Sammy had actually adapted to this drastic change. The poor man had to, otherwise he was screwed.

And then again it hadn't been all that difficult since the coven was less of what you'd assume from the olden tales of groups or communities of vampires living in the same roost, and more of a civil service in of itself. 

It was like having a parole officer really. One that gave you some pointers in the right direction, and that reminded you of feeding schedules.

Feeding itself wasn't as bad either, twice every month in specially assigned locations where cattle would be provided to them by a few sponsored ranches.

What really bothered Sammy about all this was the maturing of his vampirical traits. Specifically the part when one night he found himself ripping out of his clothes and seeing his body grotesquely transform into a quadrupedal flying thing that he couldn't quite put a name to. Hence why he'd come to the library in search of answers.

Still the best description he got was for some African fruit bat that had a face that not even a mother could love.

How could a vampire seemingly become a herbivorous bat, when he knew for certain he'd slaughtered two horses the previous night?

  "Found anything yet deary?"

     Sammy startled slightly as Mrs. Harrison, bless her for being the supportive sweet old grandma figure that she was in his time of need (and one of the few humans who knew of his predicament and didn't judge him for it), joined him with a couple of books.

She'd taken them both, plus Abigail, to the library to help him figure out about his strange transformations. 

She was also the one who took Abby on the nights he needed to feed because he couldn't trust himself not to attack her. 

He was too akin to a wild animal on a frenzy when he felt the hunger calling, which Mrs. Harrison had stated was normal for fledgeling vampires like himself.

  "Honestly, just this ugly looking thing… it's the closest I've found to what I saw in the mirror."

  "Ah, the hammer-headed bat! They're quite unique I'd say… My dear husband, god rest his soul, used to stuff them back when he hunted in Africa. He thought they might bring him luck, the nutter." The old linguistics teacher smiled, the gaps where she was missing teeth making it look slightly crooked but no less endearing. "It isn't unusual for vampires to instinctively take on forms that don't quite match their dietary needs. Most who change become similar to a species that best suits their needs. This one I'd say has qualities befitting of you deary."

  "That's… not very comforting." His nose had always been a sore spot. Turning into an animal whose face was 90% nose was just insulting to him.

  "Don't take it so badly deary." Mrs. Harrison chuckled. "What I mean to say is these bats, specifically the males, are known to be quite vocal. You, my dear, are quite vocal, are you not?"

Well, when she put it like that…

  "That's a yes in those pretty eyes of yours deary. And besides, not many new vampires can say they naturally became megabats. You're very well endowed in that aspect."

She took great joy in getting him to blush at such a comment. He could see the devilish glee in her kind old eyes, accentuated by crows feet and wrinkles.

They picked up a few books on the "specialized" area, Sammy vehemently ignoring Abby's questions of why his face was so red, and soon enough the trio was on their way back to the apartment.

Sick leave (which he took twice a month as mandated by the coven) would be over tomorrow, so Sammy needed to prepare.

Because working in an enclosed cartoon studio run by Joey Drew would definitely spell trouble for a vampire that had just earned their shifting ability.

-

     There are a set of very specific rules for new vampires. Don't expose yourself, don't expose the community, don't expose the sponsors or patrons.

Sammy had gotten pretty lucky, Mrs. Harrison was a patron and one of the best at her job.

She provided rehoming possibilities to fledgeling vampires, and ensured their safety within the communities they'd been integrated in.

She also kept an eye on hunters.

So of course Sammy was quite aware that Joey Drew was a person he needed to watch out for.

Joey Drew, who was notorious for having at least 36 confirmed kills under his belt. Here's where things got tough: Joey knew Sammy was a vampire, so he tended to keep a pretty good eye on the music director as well.

It was a perpetual game of cat and mouse.

A very dangerous one that had just reached a new level.

Because Sammy's overall safety lay within what his coworkers thought of him vs what they thought of their boss's eccentricities.

No one was crazy enough to believe that their coworker was secretly a vampire, or that their boss was essentially the equivalent of a vampire poacher.

And that is what Sammy wanted to maintain. A veil of normalcy to keep himself safe. One that would be much harder to maintain now that he had matured out of the first two years of being a fledgeling and developed such a large and rather monstrous looking shift.

     Hazel eyes locked with icy blue ones as the music director locked eyes with the founder of Joey Drew Studios. They drank coffee in the break room, surrounded by oblivious employees, and maintained this tense stare-down until Henry came by to drag Joey away.

Then Sammy would let out a quiet sigh of relief and go back to work ironing out the flaws in his current composition.

Jack would pass by his office to drop off a few new lyrics, he'd point out which needed a bit of tweaking, and then he'd be alone with his thoughts and his sheets up until he had to help Susie with recording.

Then he'd spend a good hour or two conducting the band, catching the brief glimpses of his ever watching boss in the corners of his eyes.

The staring contest would restart on every break, and Sammy would have to seek safety by mingling with coworkers (some of which he could not stand).

Norman was often his go to, as Joey never risked these sorts of behaviours with the larger southern man around.

The projectionist was a very bright man after all, and could dig up dirt on anyone that so much as rubbed him the wrong way.

It was a miracle he hadn't figured out Sammy's little secret thus far.

  "Runnin' from the boss again?"

  "That man is insane… I swear he's obsessed with me, Polk. It's creepy!" He'd replied after sneaking away to practically glue himself to Norman's side during another much needed coffee break. He desperately needed a smoke, his skin felt tight and uncomfortable.

  "Drew don't know no boundaries. Yous should consider takin' it up to Henry." Norman suggested. "Only man ta boss will listen to."

  "I wouldn't want to bother Henry because of Joey." Sammy huffed. "The poor man isn't his keeper."

  "Sure coulda fooled me." Only three more hours of this. Three more hours and he could go home.

  "Mr. Lawrence, a word." Speak of the devil… Joey Drew himself feeling bolder than ever as he moved over to address Sammy in Norman's company. "About the most recent composition."

  "Devil's Swing. What of it?" He'd worked hard on it to act as a counterpart to Angel's Tango. One of his finer masterpieces if he did say so himself.

  "I find it's going in the right direction… But it just lacks this… shine to it." Joey gestured vaguely "Like it's missing something that'd make it just right."

  "Shine… you think it's missing some shine?" Sammy suppressed the need to growl. What was the man on about? Just this morning he'd been happy with it!

Lord forbid Mr. Drew could ever make up his mind.

Norman watched the exchange quietly, keeping a close eye on both of them as Joey gave one of his signature grins. The kind that'd make the little devil darling himself quite jealous with just how much tooth it showed.

  "As we're on a tight schedule, I have to ask you to fix it by midnight tonight. Since you were on sick-leave recently, I'm sure you can compensate for setting us back with overtime." Oh, oh dear.

Sammy could now see what he was up to.

By midnight the studio would be virtually empty. Just him, the ever oblivious Wally Franks, and Joey Drew himself.

Oh he was in trouble… Unless he could do the alterations well before, but then if Joey wanted to trap him in the studio where he couldn't get help, who's to say he'd accept any of his corrections?

  "I…"

  "Well, on with it then! No time to waste!" Joey gave him an overly friendly pat on the shoulder, those icy blues glinting with manic glee as he walked off.

Norman wrinkled his nose.

  "That man ain't right in the head… Yous just came back from the doc."

  "You know how it is. Only thing Drew cares about is money." And Henry, to an obsessive degree actually. More so than following Sammy around now that he thought about it.

Either way, he had to get to work now, or he'd be screwed. "I'm going back into my office. There's no way I'm sticking around until midnight."

  "Best o'luck. I'll be in my booth if ya need anythin' from me."

Sammy needed an escape from their boss, but he couldn't exactly tell Norman that. He was the last person that needed to find out one of his coworkers was a damn bat-shaped leech. The blackmail would be horrid!

-

     The clock read 23:47 by the time Sammy had finished, and honestly the blond was ready to break.

One by one everyone in his department had packed up for the night and gone home. Susie had come by to give him a quick peck on the cheek before she'd saunters off humming a chipper tune.

Jack had come by to remind him not to stay too late and then been on his way as well. Wally himself was nowhere to be seen, probably cleaning that spill he'd heard about in Heavenly Toys, so the music director was completely and utterly alone.

And he was running out of time. 

Joey was going to get him.

  "Damn it… I've been good with this. I haven't even tasted human blood, and I'm still going to get put down by some crazy asshole…" he put his face in his hands and groaned. The tightness if his skin had only worsened as his stress piled up.

Stress-shifting was very much a thing and he really didn't want to chance transforming in the studio to release some of the tension.

With his luck Wally might walk in on him.

  "What do I do…?" He could try scaring his boss into letting it go. That bat form of his was pretty ugly, it'd scare the devil right out of Drew himself.

Or it'd just make him step up to the challenge.

A knock startled him out of his thoughts.

  "Y-yes?" He chastised himself for sounding so shaky, especially when it wasn't that grinning bastard who opened the door.  "Norman?"

  "Hey Sammy, I need a favour." The Louisianian greeted him. "I messed up my arm pretty bad while fixin' one o' them projectors. Yous wouldn't mind drivin' me to the hospital right?"

  "I… No of course." He was surprised, noticing the makeshift dressings on Norman's arm. They were messy but he couldn't see or smell his injury so it was likely a burn of some kind. Those projectors tended to overheat and catch fire at times.

  "Good, I'd ask Henry but he wents home early tonight… Strange really, Mr. Drew let a lot of folk go home early tonight..." Norman shrugged "And even if he could drive, I wouldn't bother ta boss t'do this for me."

  "I'll drive, I was done anyway." He left the sheets out so that Joey would find them as they were with ease. "Nearly midnight too, so Drew can't get on my case for leaving a little earlier."

This was the escape he needed.

He owed Norman his life, even if the other man didn't realize it.

     The two made their way outside at a leisurely pace before Norman motioned for Sammy to follow, much to the blond's confusion.

They ended up in an alleyway (not dodgy at all, nope) where Normal pulled off the bandages and revealed his arm was just fine. Sammy stared, eyebrows raised.

  "I lied, I don't need to go to the doc, but I don't think that butcher needs to know that… Have a good night Sammy, and stay safe." The much taller man grinned cheekily before transforming before Sammy's very eyes, into a truly massive Mauritian flying fox.

  "Oh you're kidding…" The larger vampire chittered, clearly amused by his reaction, before flying off into the night. "So much for having something over Polk…"

The music director huffed and began walking towards his car, stopping when it dawned on him. Norman would likely cash in this favour when he least expected it…

  "Son of a bitch, that man better not ask for something impossible…"

You win some, you lose some.

As much as he hated to lose to Norman so often, Sammy was at least glad to win this despute with Joey.

For the time being at least.

[purplesurveys]

1109

What were you like at 17? Infinitely more naïve than I am now. I was going through my first heartbreak, funnily enough caused by the same person who is the reason for my current heartbreak, but that’s a story I’ve shared a million times. Anyway, at 17 I was still in high school so I was definitely more carefree about a lot of things; I wasn’t worrying about the future too much just yet, and I was still set on taking journalism. I was also going through my first family death which allowed me to explore a new side of my emotions.

Tell us about your first kiss. I had been really nervous about it and I felt like I wasn’t ready. But she was very gentle and took her time with me that night, even though I could tell she really wanted to have that kiss. I knew I hadn’t been a good kisser for my first, but she seemed to have good memories of it years later when we revisited the experience.

Tell us about your worst date. I’ve never been on a date with someone I wasn’t seeing.

What’s your biggest flaw? I’m extra sensitive and can’t take even the most playful of jabs without feeling the least bit hurt, unless the dig came from someone I’m extremely comfortable with, like Angela. That makes me the worst person for banter in most cases and it makes me not the most approachable person.

What’s the coolest thing you’ve bought lately? To be honest with you, I only ever buy food lol. I’ve been an employee for three months now and I have yet to buy something that’s meant to be an investment or is meant to last with me. 

Who is your celebrity crush? Can’t really decide between Kristen Stewart and Kate Winslet. Love them both.

What is your biggest pet peeve? I don’t appreciate lateness very much, especially if people have no reason to be.

What’s the song you most wish you had written? I don’t really think like this. If anything, I’m grateful there are songwriters out there who can pen songs that perfectly encapsulate my thoughts and feelings.

What do you always take with you when you travel? Phone, laptop, my chargers for each, wallet, and too many clothes because I like having multiple choices on what to wear while I’m traveling.

Do you have any pets? Two dogs.

Have you or someone you know ever drunk dialed? I never have, but I probably know a ton of people who have.

What is the worst break up you have experienced? The most recent one. The person I trusted the most hurt me in more ways than I could ever imagine. She seemed so desperate to get rid of me, and I will never be able to shake off the excruciating pain of feeling unwanted. She made it sound like I put her on a leash when I did nothing but attend to her every need and adjusted in a million ways for her comfort while never asking for anything back. I blamed myself for months, never knowing what exactly I was blaming myself for.

I worked my goooooooddamn hardest to get to where I am today, and I’m not sure she deserves to re-enter my life after the work and fixing I’ve done to be able to forgive and love myself.

Have you ever been stuck by someone very annoying on a plane/bus/etc? I don’t think so. The only one I remember was a seatmate on a plane who snored for the entire trip, but it didn’t bother me too much. When was the last time you were rejected by someone? Late 2020.

Has someone way older than you tried to hit on you? Nope.

Have you ever been cheated on? Never. 

Did you get lost at all on your first day of high school? No. I went to the same school from kinder to high school, so by freshman year I could’ve gone through the entire campus blindfolded.

Have you ever been interrupted during sex? Yeah many times.

Have you ever been recorded doing stupid things while drunk? Yeah, I’m the favorite for that kind of content haha. I can get quite silly when drunk.

Has a significant other ever called you by the wrong name? Nope.

Have you ever cooked anything and it turned out horrible? Not exactly, but close. I’ve baked stuff before that ended up tasting like nothing.

What is the worst birthday you have ever had? I don’t think I have one that’s in the running for absolute worst, but my 21st birthday coincided with Easter Sunday so I couldn’t invite anyone to celebrate with me. Gabie’s parents, who aren’t even particularly religious, didn’t allow her to celebrate with me because it was Easter, so that was a blow. Angela saved the day by taking me to dinner and spending the whole evening with me, but by the end of the evening Gabie and I had a lengthy argument and she kept trying to break up with me. It was a miserable end to a mostly miserable birthday.

Have you ever choked on chewing gum? Probably briefly in the past. I don’t have any moments that stuck with me.

Have you ever found anything dirty in a siblings room? No, but I also don’t go looking around through his things. < Same.

Have you ever made a bad first impression on someone’s parents? I’m sure I have. I once made a mess in a high school classmate’s bathroom when I cleaned my hands to get red food coloring off of them. I did want to clean it, but my mom suddenly came to pick me up so I had to leave the sink in such a messy state. Years later and I still feel bad about it, even though I’ve never been close to that girl and I’ve never visited her house since.

When is the last time you got into a fist fight? Idk man, 15 years ago? The only physical fights I’ve gotten into were with my siblings and cousins when we were kids.

Have you ever been spit on by a llama? I don’t think I’ve ever even seen a llama in real life.

Have you ever locked yourself out of your car/house? The house, yes many times. Never out of my car.

Describe how you got one of your scars. My right ring toe got caught in the gears once when I was riding my bike.

Describe how you’ve broken a bone, if you have. Never have. Would hate to feel what it’d be like D:

Have you ever had a near death experience? The time I got shocked when I was 11 probably comes the closest.

When you get cold at home, do you get a sweater/hoodie or get a blanket? I rarely get colds. When I do, I just wait for it to leave; I don’t really do anything to deal with it.

Do you require visual assistance? (i.e.; glasses or contacts) I’ve had glasses since I was 11.

Do you work out? Occasionally.

Describe the last cup you drank from. It was just a clear glass that had water in it.

What is a food that you always are in the mood to eat? Sushi and sashimi.

Do you like sausage? I’ve never liked sausage tbhhhh. It tastes odd to me.

Ever held a newborn animal? I don’t think. The closest I’ve come to holding a newborn was meeting Cooper when he was two months old and barely looked like a beagle.

Do you make a wish when you blow out your birthday candles? I haven’t had a birthday cake in a while, but in general I do make wishes when I get the chance to blow out candles.

Have you ever been to Boston? Nope.

Describe your hair at the moment. I showered a few hours ago so it’s still a bit damp, but otherwise it’s nothing special.

What is the last thing you searched for online? I looked for a synonym for a certain word, but I don’t remember what it was.

What are you sitting on? The chair in my room. I actually haven’t sat on it for a couple of months, so it feels pretty refreshing to do so again.

Could you use a massage right now? If I could get rid of how terribly ticklish I am, I would so appreciate a massage right now, yeah.

Is it wicked hard for you to sleep when its hot in your room? Yup and I also get insanely cranky as well. Being hot is one of the worst sensations ever, if not the outright worst.

Do you sleep on your stomach/back/side most often? On my stomach with my arms and legs wrapped around a pillow.

Do make sure you dot your I`s when you write? Yes.

Do you dunk your cookies in milk? No, I just like to eat them on their own.

What did you wear today? I had a tank top and shorts for most of today.

Do medical terms make you uncomfortable? Not really, unless I’m diagnosed with a certain condition lol.

Are you afraid of failure? Yeah because I really hate losing or people thinking I’m not capable enough. The older I get and the more experiences I gain, though, the more I’ve been less afraid to commit mistakes. More and more I realize everybody I deal with are people who also make mistakes and are afraid of making mistakes.

Have you been called a bad influence? I’m sure I have.

What about Chinese food? Love it or hate it? I loooove Chinese food, but it’s not one of my top favorites.

How do you feel about getting new neighbors? I honestly have no clue who any of my neighbors are, so I would barely notice if we got new ones.

Why were you last in a hospital? I needed to get blood and urine tests because my fever wasn’t going away and it was time to figure out what was wrong with me.

When is the last time you went to a doctor, and why? We needed him to figure out what I had from the results of the aforementioned medical tests, and for him to prescribe the proper medicine for me to take.

[rcdwrxck]

more traitor verse stuff

some of this will have mentions of people’s characters.

reno is so dangerous in this verse because he has enemies everywhere now. he’s made enemies out of everyone in shinra, having betrayed them so badly. but other than that he’s had 13 years to get to know them too, so he knows their secrets and weak points (to a point anyway) and he wont be afraid to exploit them either.

-- he’s sold information to avalanche, though they didn’t know it was coming from him. -- he’s sold information to wutai, though again they didn’t know it was him. -- he had a single contact who knew who he was, which was who informed him he’d been discovered. he kept the circle of who knew him so small. -- he has his own secrets which can be used against him, if I feel so inclined I may tell a select few people. -- he’s sold scarlets weapons designs when he found out what they were, enabling shinra’s enemies to defend against the majority of them. (this was spoken about with @madamdirectcr )  -- also in relation to ( @liifestreams reeve, reno is the reason his father get’s killed. he betrays the tuesti’s wherabouts ) -- again with ( @madamdirectcr scarlet ) she let reno get close to her, he let her believe he was in love with her and she with him and has betrayed some of her weakness’ to shinra’s enemies. all those sweet tender moments, tainted with the knowledge that he was simply building her up to bring the company down. although there’s one secret he knows which he hasn’t betrayed, for reasons i can not divulge. -- and funnily enough, he did care about her in his own way -- but he cared for his cause more. -- he genuinely cares about rude. but even this isn’t enough to stop him doing what he thinks he has to do. -- he will use anything he knows about you, against you. -- and he’s had thirteen years to perfect his methods, thirteen years to dig through your life using the clearance of the turks under the guise its for your protection. thirteen years of standing beside you as a comrade, learning your strengths, your weakness’ and your battle styles if need be.  -- he want’s heidegger out of the way, being the war general and all he see’s him as one of the biggest threats (and obstacles) in his way. but he’s not stupid enough to go toe to toe with him if he could avoid it. so he’s likely to use underhanded tactics there. -- he legit wants to see shinra burn into ashes. -- then he wants to dance on the ashes, finally being free of such a tyranny..  -- although... its unlikely he’ll survive that long. but make no mistake, he doesn’t fear death. he only fears his secret being used against him.

[thechangeling]

The one thing you can never do.

Whoops I've got another Kitty fanfic. Apparently I'm going through something so dont mind me.

It's funny how sometimes, after going through so much effort to get away from something, you find yourself ending up right back where you started. Kit wasn't the sort of person to believe in fate or destiny, but maybe there was something inevitable about certain factors of his life. Like he was always meant to be a shadowhunter and maybe he was always meant to end up back in LA. Or maybe that wasn't actually what was inevitable about Kit's life. Maybe his destiny had nothing to do with a specific place or location. Maybe it had everything to do with a person.

Kit wasn't exactly sure why he was having a bit of an existential crisis at such a late hour, but after being submerged back in the Blackthorn circus for a day, he needed to be alone with his thoughts. There was another apocalyptic crisis occurring in LA that the Los Angeles institute seemed to be the center of once again. So the Blackthorns and what Kit liked to call "The Blackthorn Adjacents" had sent out a distress call to New York and also to Tessa and Jem for reinforcements.

The interesting thing about Kit's particular brand of bad luck is that if this wasn't an emergency Ty wouldn't have even been there. Kit knew from hearing Tessa mention it off hand that Ty had gone to study at the scholomance but the threat of an impending war had most likely brought him back home. So Kit had basically dug his heels into the ground and refused to move.

"I'm not going." He had insisted. "They don't need me, it'll be fine." Jem and Tessa had exchanged one of those annoying married couple looks, as if they were communicating telepathically. Then Jem had delivered the money line.

"But what if Ty is in trouble?"

For someone usually so kind and sensitive it was more then a little manipulative, but Kit knew it was for the greater good. So he joined his adoptive parents and his baby sister as they passed through the portal to LA and tried not to hyperventilate. However funnily enough amongst all the chaos of so many shadowhunters being in one place as well as many influential downworlders, he had yet to find himself in a situation where he was forced to speak to Ty. Any time they were in the same room Ty would avoid his gaze and essentially pretend that Kit did not exist.

Which suited him just fine. If Ty wanted to be petty then so could Kit. There was a part of him (arguably much more logical and level headed) that was berating him for this kind of ridiculous behavior. However in situations like this, it would seem that no matter how hard he tried to be honest and express his true feelings, something always stopped him. It was almost as if some cold and dark force took over, wrapping itself around Kit's heart and preventing anyone from getting through.

It was internal struggles such as these that lead him to the roof. He could see why both Mark and Ty liked coming up here so much. There was something quite peaceful and relaxing about being so far away from the rest of the world especially considering the chaos downstairs. It was interesting to Kit how you could clearly see that every person in that institute played a distinct role in the process of stopping this threat.

Everyone except for him.

Sometimes on dark long nights he would wonder if anyone would really notice if he disappeared forever. However this time before he could slip farther into that black hole, he heard footsteps behind him, disturbing his solitude. This was a little irritating

"I'm sorry I just really need to be alone right now" Kit called out to the night without turning around.

"I know the feeling" came the reply in the form of a deep familiar voice that seemed to seep into his bones and flow through his viens, infecting every part of him. Even after three years he would know that voice anywhere.

Ty.

Kit let out a shakey exhale and closed his eyes. He was far too tired to be cold or passive aggressive. So instead of telling Ty to leave him alone, accompanied by some very colorful language, or making some spiteful remark, Kit turned around to face him. Ty was standing with his arms crossed and his signature headphones slung around his neck. His face was blank, devoid of any emotion but his fingers were fiddling with the strings on his hoodie, rolling them between his right thumb and pointed finger. His left hand was fluttering slightly at his side. Kit fought the urge to reach for him. God sometimes it was like he was a drug addict. Just constantly jonesing for his next fix of Ty.

He waited for Ty to speak, but he just stared back at Kit. Even though eye contact was difficult for him, he was looking Kit dead in the eye. And then,

" You are so difficult" Ty spoke with an even voice which was even more irritating then the remark itself. This time he couldn't bite back a retort.

"I'm the difficult one?" Kit exclaimed clenching his hands into fists in an attempt to control his temper. "You're the one who has been avoiding me this whole time genius!" Kit saw Ty flinch at the remark but he wasn't done. Not by a long shot.

"I came here against my better judgement, because I wanted to try and fix what we broke three years ago and you spend all this time acting like I dont exist! Then out of blue you finally come up to me just to tell me I'm difficult?" Kit knew he was raising his voice but he just couldn't bring himself to care. "I mean honestly Ty if you really hate me that much then just tell me straight to my face and get it over with!" Kit yelled, his voice beganing to crack.

Ty was avoiding his gaze now and had wrapped both his arms around himself squeezing tightly, his fingernails digging into his arms. Almost instantly Kit felt all of his anger begin to drain out of his body. Upsetting Ty was still the worst thing in the world.

"You left me." Ty's voice was a harsh whisper barely loud enough to register. Ty shifted his gaze back to meet Kit's. There were tears in his eyes. Kit's heart jolted at the sight. Ty took a deep breath, dropped his hands to his sides and stepped towards him. Kit found it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe.

"You told me that you wished you had never met me during what was probably the most difficult experience of my life, and then you just left" Ty stated pointedly. Kit felt the urge to protest, to tell him that the only reason any of that happened was because of what Ty said. However, something about his tone made Kit feel as though all of the resistance had been sucked out of his body.

He was completely at the mercy of Ty.

It wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Ty took another breath and closed his eyes. "You have to understand, I needed Livvy. I have never known how to do any of this without her" Ty gestured around himself vaguely. " I never had to. Then when I lost her, it was like everything was spun into chaos around me and I couldn't breathe." Ty's voice was becoming shakey and uneven as his fingers started fluttering again. "So I had to get her back Kit, because I couldn't live like that. You have to understand!" Ty pleaded.

Kit felt some of his anger returning, not just at Ty but at himself as well for sympathizing with him. " See that's the problem Ty" Kit began, failing to keep the venom out of his voice. " I do understand! I understand why you did what you did. I always have." Kit found himself moving towards Ty. "I mean it was a stupid plan and I should have stopped you, but I still get it. That's not why I was mad." Ty looked confused but calm.

"Then why were you angry Kit?"

Kit shivered slightly at the way Ty said his name. It was no longer harsh and dripping with malice or frustration. It was the was the way he used to say it, before. Back when they were younger, before everything went to shit. It was soft and sweet and Kit was pretty sure it was his favourite sound in the whole world. He was tempted to just ask Ty to forget about it, forget about all of it so they could put the past behind them and move on.

But he couldn't. Not when the memory was still so clear.

So Kit swallowed down his feelings and pushed on. "You said I was nothing Ty" he stated mournfully, looking down away from Ty's gaze. "You told Livvy that there was nothing if she wasn't here." There was a moment of silence, so Kit raised his head. Ty was staring at him with utter shock and confusion. And there was something else. Something Kit couldn't quite place.

But he knew that it was something he never wanted to see it again.

Ty was shaking his head slowly in disbelief. "That isn't what I meant. I was grieving Kit! I wasn't paying attention to what I was saying." Ty explained mournfully. He moved even closer to Kit so there was barely any space left between them and gently placed his hand against Kit's cheek. "Did you honestly believe that I didnt care about you? That all our time together meant nothing?"

Kit was shaking slightly, not from anger but from holding back the tears. He wished he could break Ty's gaze but it was almost if there was some sort of magnetic pull refusing to let Kit look away. He closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself, and when he opened them, he found Ty still gazing at him with an unusual softness.

Kit took a breath, shaking his head slowly. "I don't know Ty. It was just easy." Tears were threatening to spill down his cheeks. Ty was looking at him with confusion, his fingers twitching at his side. "Easy?" Ty murmered raising his other hand to lightly wipe away Kit's tears. "Why Kit? I dont understand."

Kit took a step back letting Ty's hands fall back to his sides. All of a sudden he couldn't bear to have Ty so close. "Because honestly, why would you?" Kit confessed shakily. "Why would you care about me when nobody else ever has? My whole life, I've always been treated like a tool or a weapon. Like something useful or handy to have around when the situation calls for it, or as an inconvenience that you want to get rid of, but never like an actual person." Kit was aware that he was rambling at this point but he just couldn't seem to stop himself. His entire body was shaking slightly, either from the tears he was trying to hold in or from the anger.

Honestly it was probably both.

Kit could see that Ty was clearly upset by this but he stayed silent letting Kit continue. And there it was again, that same perplexing look on Ty's face. The one he couldn't quite put a name to. But Kit just kept going.

"You don't understand what it's like to spend your entire life not being loved! No matter how alone you may have felt at times, you've always had a family who would die for you! You have spent your entire life surrounded by love Ty and you will never understand what it's like to be completely and utterly alone!" Kit was well aware that he was spiraling at this point but he needed to get it out. He needed to be able to finally tell someone.

"And I'm starting to think that no matter what I do, I'll always be alone and maybe no one's ever gonna love-"

Kit didnt get the chance to finish his sentence. He didnt get the chance to finish whatever the hell he was about to say because Ty was pulling him close and pressing his lips to Kit's in a frantic kiss.

Ty was kissing him.

Ty was kissing him.

Ty's lips were harsh and cold against Kit's. He was pressing his fingertips into Kit's skin, gripping onto him frantically. The kiss was messy and unpracticed but Ty was kissing him with everything that he had and Kit could hardly think of anything else.

Kit could hardly think at all.

Then suddenly Ty broke the kiss and let go of him. Kit found himself instant missing the feel of Ty's touch. He was staring at Kit again with that same fierce intensity with tears in his eyes and Kit found it hard to breathe at the sight. He knew that whatever Ty was about to tell him was extremely important otherwise he most likely would have looked away by now.

"Don't" Ty stated simply, his voice full of misery and heartbreak.

"What?" Kit breathed still in a daze. "Don't? Don't what Ty?" He wasn't sure what was going on or what Ty was asking for, but he was fully prepared to give it to him. He would give anything for Ty to stop looking at him like that.

Ty shook his head slightly and closed his eyes. When he opened them again they were filled with tears.

"Don't Kit." Ty spoke with a frightening intensity. "Dont you dare say that no one loves you." "You can be angry all you want, angel knows you deserve it. You can even hate me if it makes you feel better." Ty was shaking again, tears sliding down his cheeks. Kit wanted to try and comfort him but he found himself frozen in place.

"But the one thing-" Ty continued, "the one thing you can never do, is say that I don't love you."

Kit's heart stuttered in his chest. If he didn't know better he would have thought he was going into cardiac arrest. Every muscle in his body had frozen in place. He willed himself to move, to breathe, to do anything, but it seemed that all he could do was reply those words from Ty over and over in his head.

Ty loved him?

Ty loved him.

Kit was pretty sure he was about to pass out.

Ty must have recognized his shock, as he carefully took Kit's hand in his. Ty stared down and their intertwined hands for a moment and Kit did what he had become quite an experience at. He stared at Ty.

" I'm sorry you didnt realize it before" Ty finally spoke, his thumb tracing patterns against Kit's hand. "I thought you knew. I thought I had made it obvious to you, but I know that most people dont pick up on the ways I express my feelings." Kit opened his mouth to protest but Ty cut him off.

"No it's True, and I'm honestly not angry with you for being confused. I should have just told you, but I was confused for awhile." Ty tentatively raised Kit's hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss to the back of it. Kit felt a shiver run over every inch of his skin.

"I'm sorry I didnt say it back before that day on the beach. When everything went wrong. I didnt know what you meant at first, why exactly you were saying it and why then. I love you can mean lots of different things as I've learned over the years." Ty was looking at him again and continuing to run his fingers along Kit's skin, making shapes of some sort.

Runes. Kit realized. He was tracing runes.

"I understand that" Kit replied. His voice was hoarse from not talking for awhile. He cleared his throat. "I mean obviously not completely, but I get where you're coming from." Ty tilted his head slightly in confusion at the figure of speech. "Where?" he asked.

Kit smiled brightly. Somehow Ty had the innate ability to make everything either adorable, or downright beautiful. "I love you so much" he said in lieu of an answer. Ty's eyes lit up at Kit's confession. "I know" Ty replied, finally releasing his hand. Kit silently mourned the loss of contact.

Ty started backing up towards the hatch, a thoughtful smile taking over his features. He then stopped and stared at Kit for awhile, biting his lip. He then broke into another beautiful smile.

"I love you too Cristopher. Now are you coming?"

And with that, Ty turned around and dropped back down the hatch leading back into the institute. Kit chuckled softly to himself.

Of course he was.