#he's her teacher and he's held in such high respects what do you mean she's maybe 1000 years older than him???

[shadowed-dancer]

Characters that are younger than Xiao and it feels wrong

Over half the archons (Nahida, Focalors, Furina, probably the pyro archon and the Tsaritsa assuming they were born after the cataclysm. Idk I feel like we assume gods should be the oldest and they just... aren't)

Yae Miko

Dainsleif

NEUVILLETTE

Characters that are older than Xiao and it feels wrong

Ganyu

[eris-snow]

𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

Tags: bakugou x gn!reader, jealousy, Band AU, drummer bakugou, Quirkless AU, fluff,

Drummer Bakugou would be hot as hell. Disclaimer: The song Good 4 u from Olivia Rodrigo is in here so all props to her for this song because I am incapable of writing a single note.

God, he pissed you off. Bakugou can be one hell of an asshole, anytime, anywhere. You blew out an irritated scoff as you fixate your eyes on the blinding lights glaring down on the stage, determined to find a way to make yourself go blind so that you could stop looking at that emotionally-exhausting human named Katsuki Bakugou.

Unfortunately, his aura made it practically impossible to ignore him.

Your band had picked him up about a week after you guys formed. Jiro said she knew a guy that could fill in your drummer's vacant spot. After all, you needed a percussionist. Bands couldn't last long without one.

So when an angry, explosive and loud blond was dragged into the rented-out studio the very next day, you were hesitant to believe that this was the man that was going to solve all your problems. He proved you wrong though.

"Why the hell do you want me in your stupid little band anyway?" He snarled, trying to pry off Kaminari's arm that was clamped around his shoulders. "Can't you just ask Icy Hot or something? I'm sure even Damn Deku learn how to do it if it meant helping you guys until you got a replacement!"

"But that person won't be you, Bakugou!" Kaminari moaned, determinedly and successfully getting the blond into the room with the help of Tokoyami and Yaoyorozu. "Please, man! You're the best there is close to campus! The school band won't even let us take anybody!"

"And I can see why!" The blond spat, still fighting the mass of limbs that blocked the door. "I didn't want to do this shit!"

You frowned from your spot, clicking the microphone to the stand as you folded your arms. "Are you sure about this?" You whispered to Jiro, who had her head cradled tightly in her hands. "Isn't he the one always getting the top marks on all the weekly tests the teachers give us? You sure he can play?"

Bakugou's neck jerked so hard that you thought he would get a whiplash. "Hah?" He stopped resisting, sharp eyes snapping to you. "The hell do you mean 'can I play?' I'm the best fucking person you'd find in this entire country!"

Tokoyami, Kaminari and Yaoyorozu slumped down in relief, winded.

You blinked, taken aback. Then, your lips curl into a sly smirk.

"Prove it."

He decimated any thoughts of getting another person the second he held those drumsticks.

Since those high school days, the 6 of you matured into a band that wrote and performed original music, posting it on any social media platform to let it gain traction.

Thankfully, with Jiro's parents being music producers, it was infinitely easier to learn what was in and find the direction your band was going in.

Even after years of performing, you were still a bundle of nerves before performing.

Not this time though.

Now, all could do was to remind yourself to stay calm, get into the zone, and channel all this irritation into your vocals to make your performance more realistic and impactful.

Your relationship with Bakugou would be described as...chaotic at best. As the main vocalist in the band, you were mostly in charge of the lyric writing and overseeing what was the chords and rhythm for each song.

Bakugou was the one who dwelled the most on each section to make sure your lyrics were nothing short of perfect.

There were times when it would be just the two of you in that studio, rehearsing and replaying original albums or favourite covers before the others came. Even if Bakugou and you would yell and glare at each other, both of you held begrudgingly respect for what each of you did.

Bakugou annihilated any competition for a drummer in your region, just like he said. And even though you never brag, Bakugou knows you have the confidence and lung capacity of a whale. Your technique was unquestionably better than Jiro's.

That's why Bakugou knew every habit and quirk you executed in or out of that studio. He'd gotten really good at observing especially you.

The way you would fidget when someone would tell you how amazing your singing was, obviously flustered. That incoherent laughter that you think sounds terrible but one that Bakugou absolutely adores because it enforces the genuinity of your reactions. The blond is proud to know that he has drawn that laughter out of you the most times out of all the people he's seen you interact with. The way your words can change from throat-ripping rasp to velvety smooth to fit any one of your songs.

Fuck, you're so clumsy and stupid and irritatingly mind-racking all the time, but he can feel his feelings slamming harder and harder against that bedrock wall of control he so desperately built to keep his mind clear.

You don't make it easy though.

Bakugou is obnoxious at times, and this was one of those occasions. There was a slip-up backstage, and he just wouldn't stop yelling. You get that he was angry, you were too, but this was one of the times to be professional and suck it up. You'd get to perform anyway, it was just a little hold-up because one of the lights stopped working. One of the male assistants even came up to you to offer you a drink in apology.

Still, Bakugou just had to make a scene.

He ripped gently took that beverage out of your hand and threw it away the second you got it. Snapping at you in his temper tantrum, lashing out a tired "whatever" as if he were a child. The nerve of this guy!

Control now, let loose later, you remind yourself behind those velvet black curtains. Ignoring the looks of concern from your bandmates and the pressing scowls of confusion Bakugou was giving you.

A practised smile frames your face as the curtains part, and that's when you were greeted by your ever-enthusiastic fans.

It's showtime.

Maybe your sneaky attempt at revenge went a little too overboard.

After all, almost half of the female fans of your band were always fangirling over the great Lord Explosion Murder that killed everyone with his music. You wanted to make him feel how you did for once, even in your own narcissistic way.

There's no way he'd like you anyway.

It was easy to get lost in the song you wrote about heartbreak, getting lost in the frenzy of emotions, the strumming of the electric guitar, the rhythm of the drums...

you could feel the music thriving in your bones today.

As you sang, you noticed a guy in the front row grinning so broadly that practically half his face was plastered with that smile. "I LOVE YOU Y/N!" You heard him shout, jumping along with the crowd as you transition into the bridge.

Maybe you just felt neglected with all the feelings bottled up at your throat with Bakugou. It's hard to say anything when you know it's not your place, after all. Maybe that's why you did what you did next.

Smiling alluringly, you lock eyes with that man in the crowd and sing.

"Maybe I'm too emotional

But your apathy's like a wound in salt

Maybe I'm too emotional

Or maybe you never cared at all"

His eyes light up so bright that it almost makes you chuckle. It felt nice to be reciprocated for once.

At the back of the stage, Bakugou stares at you in utter confusion. What the hell did you think you were doing? He thought, finishing his section and letting you transition back into the chorus.

"Well, good for you

You look happy and healthy, not me

If you ever cared to ask"

Twirling the drumstick between his fingers, he watches, stupefied, as you continue to blatantly flirt with the audience, looking so innocent even though Bakugou knows you know exactly what you're doing.

You smile at-some guy in the front row, the blond can't make the extra out-and-did you just wink at him?

Bakugou's nostrils flare, eyes burning with jealousy.

This was what he get for being an unceremonious idiot. Karma is having a field day today. He watched you flash that flirtatious smirk to that bastard one more time as he clicks his tongue and raises his drumsticks in the air.

Tch.

The symbols clang loudly under his aggressive playing style as he lets spiteful jealousy take over his actions. He strikes the drum harder than necessary, unable to do anything but express how he felt through his playing, and it certainly gets your attention because you just sing louder above his drumming.

Kaminari, stunned, racks up the volume as Tokoyami supports Bakugou's drumming, letting the vocals and the rhythm take charge with a hint of the main melody from Kaminari to tie the entire performance together.

The performance ends with you and Bakugou panting, having used so much energy up to prove a silent point to each other you both couldn't voice at the moment.

The crowd roars with applause. Jiro exhales in relief, grateful both of your childish reactions only fueled each other and didn't tear down the entire show. You all bow, and practically hurtle off the stage. Shit. Bakugou was not going to be happy.

-

"What the hell were you doing back there?!" Bakugou growls collapsing on the couch as if dropping a dumbbell, vermillion eyes fixated on you in pure, raw fury. The minute you got of the stage, Bakugou had dragged you away from your bandmates and flung you into some random room to 'talk to you privately'. You right. He was fuming. "Flirting with the audience like that...are you begging to cause problems?"

"What's wrong with engaging the audience, hah?" You fire back, eyes lit aflame. "My pitch was perfect today!"

"And my rhythm has never been better!" Bakugou flings, eyes locked with yours as you glare each other down with searing stares. "But does that mean I make those fucking pretty eyes to anybody? I fucking don't!"

"Maybe it's because it's nice to reciprocate for once?" You yell without thinking, voice booming. "You don't even know who those lyrics are for, asshole! They were meant to be for you!"

Stunned silence enveloped the room. Bakugou recoils, taken aback...

"Run that by me again?"

Your eyes widen, only just realising your mistake. The red in your cheeks swelled from anger to embarrassment, bite dissolving the minute he called you out.

You messed up. "I-" You run an exasperated hand through your hair, sighing. "That song was for you, Bakugou. I was just fed up because you were acting all cranky before the performance started. And the fact that your fans have been vexingly clingy lately. it was just a mix of things that bothered me for a while now that blew up all at once."

Bakugou replays the lyrics in his head, realisation hitting him like a truck.

You like him.

He takes a bold step forward, closing the space between the two of you.

He likes you.

"Bakugou-?"

"Your fans," He leans in a hair away, breath tickling your face. "They piss the shit out of me too."

Your breath hitches. Was he really-?

"You gonna leave me hanging or what?" Bakugou grumbles, the fury in his eyes seeping out to make way for a softness you're not used to seeing.

You close the gap between you two.

Bonus Part:

When Kaminari sees the both of you come back with joint hands, he immediately pumps his fists and high-fives Tokoyami. "Finally," He groans, "you've been dancing around each other for years now. I thought you would never get together!"

"SHUT THE HELL UP DUNCE FACE!"

[writingcold]

Welcome to Chapter One and Two of Best Laid Plans!

A/N: This is not an easy story to read.  I feel I need to say that up front.  This follows Jake and Amanda across a twenty year journey when the story is fully told.  It is an AU, set during the 1980’s, though the era plays very subtly in the story itself.  This is a sad, angsty read with little pockets of happiness and tenderness.  

The story is a simple one - Jake and Amanda fall in love over the course of a summer before her first semester of college.  But for all of their planning, their young love takes a turn and sets them both on a course that is not the path they could never have expected.  It is the first story in a long time that I have tried to write in first person - a little different!

I’ll be posting in two chapter increments, every Wednesday.  At least that is the current plan!  BLP is a finished work, so there will be no disruption in postings.

This is a complete fiction - totally made up.  I do not, nor will I ever know Jake or any member of GVF.  That said, this story is mine.  Please respect that.

A tremendously huge thank you to @takenbythemadness for being my eyes on this.  She took so many bullets as I honed this story into what it is.  I owe her drinks and lots of boxes of tissues.  💚Love you, my friend.

Content warnings: Angst.  Pregnancy.  Poverty.  

Word count: approx. 9700

Chapter 1: December, 1981: Amanda POV

     My feet could not be still.  They bounced and kicked, shimmied and banged against the counter and stool of Blaine’s Diner.  My heart felt like it was going a million times a minute in a threat to jump out of my chest as I tried like hell to keep a calm exterior.  Cindy watched me as she moved around, filling cups and ushering plates in and out of the kitchen.  Her bright smile seemed to curve all the more every time she drew close to me, coffee pot in hand in a silent ask if I needed more.  The answer, of course, was always a nod.  My fingers would instantly wrap around the warmth of the putty colored mug as the stream of molten liquid refreshed the pottery.

     “Jake must be getting home, yeah?”  Cindy asked as she worked to make fresh coffee.  “Did you have a good semester?”

     “It was fantastic,”  I answered, my body practically vibrating over the notion that his name had been uttered around me.  “Jake got in last night, actually, so…”

     A soft laugh warmed my skin as she reached over and patted my arm.  “It’ll be good to see you together again.  I’ve got a good feeling about you two.”

     Cindy had had a front row seat to the burgeoning romance that was between me and Jake.  We had spent countless hours within Blaine’s, downing coffee and spinning plans the likes only new love could create.  She flitted off to help another table, leaving me alone in my excitement.  Jake had been my high school crush.  I was new to town my freshman year and my eyes landed on him the very first day of school.  He was a senior, forced to show new students around.  Although he was nice through the whole tour, I could see how he was annoyed by the end.  I had stayed towards the back of the group of eight kids, just listening to him explain the layout, giving little hints about how the bell schedule seemed to give us an extra minute between the fourth and fifth periods, which teachers were cool and which were not, and when to avoid the school lunch.  He held the door open for us when it was time to get back to the office.  When I passed him, he smiled.  It wasn’t one of those mean ‘hurry up so I can get away from you all’ smiles either.  He was not the cutie pie high school boy.  He wasn’t tall, dark and handsome, either.  He was only a bit taller than me, with his shaggy hair all unkempt and dark eyes positively glittering as he had smiled the kind of smile that tugged at one corner of his mouth more than the other.  He and his twin brother, Josh, were not the most popular, but they seemed to be everywhere and attached to everything - together.

      I carried that smile with me all through that year.  It was stupid and girlish, but despite all the typical teen drama that happened, seeing Jake smile brought me a comfort that I did not understand at the time.  I would run into him during drama and band classes, as well as all the different productions that we put on that year.  I was a little distraught when he graduated.  He had plans of going to Loyola on a music scholarship, while his twin was headed to New York for film school.

     My youthful angst over not seeing Jacob Kiszka was fierce as the summer expired and the new school year started.  My friends were loud and obnoxious and full of being sixteen, or close to it.  I was the first to get my license and thus drove everyone everywhere - including parties, practices and games.  I had my first kiss that year by Robbie Parker.  Am I embarrassed that I pictured that it was actually Jake giving me that kiss - just a little.  Robbie was sweet, but my heart belonged elsewhere.  

     My crush only increased over the remaining years of school.  The Kiszka family was incredibly tight knit.  Jake would be there for nearly every play (maybe not opening night, but at least be there for one performance), and every big event for his siblings.  Senior year was my year to wonder.  The last of his siblings had graduated.  I was still carrying the torch, though.  I could not really explain why.  I did see him in passing during  the holidays while I was gift shopping with Jenni and Mel.  But it was at Martin’s during Spring Break that had left me breathless as I smacked right into him as I was leaving and he was walking in.  I was so embarrassed that I didn’t even look back after he tried to make sure I was okay.  All I could think was how good he smelled.  Ugh.

      I was at Marni’s graduation party when the friends decided they had had enough of the adults having all the fun and wanted to head out to the river for the rest of the night.  There were rumors of a bonfire and keg.  We piled into my ancient microbus and bounced our way down to the other side of the golf course, out into the woods where no one lived.  By the time we got out to the party, it was all swamped with football players and jocks of all kinds, along with cheerleaders, band geeks, and the Kiszkas.  My eyes pasted themselves instantly to Jake as he stood talking with Josh and Sam along with a few from my class.  I tried to be normal.  I really did.  I swear I was not gawking, but Jake looked different that night.  He looked like a man with his hair pulled back and scruff on his chin.  Marni practically threw me under my own bus when she screamed - full assed screamed - a hello in their direction.  Fortunately, everyone just chalked it up to Marni being Marni, probably drunk off her butt and it was only 10:20 in the evening.  

      We danced around the bonfire and dug our toes in the river mud and laughed when people started to fall into the icy water.  As the night wound down, I noticed that Jake was close to my group, his eyes straying to me.  Me.  I chanced a smile and a hello.

     “Amanda, right?”  he asked as he smiled that smile that I had held dear for four years.

     “Yeah.  Jake, right?”  I mimicked with a way more confident nod than I realized.  I heard Marni start to downright cackle as he took my hand. 

     “Happy graduation,”  he said with a smile, completely ignoring my obnoxious friend.

     We fell into conversation immediately.  He was all about Chicago and what he was learning.  He wanted to know my plans - where I was planning on heading off to for school or otherwise.  Our conversation was like breathing.  Our words were normal and filled with fun and laughter and something that I would come to realize was promise by the end of the summer.  We had traded numbers at the end of the night.  I watched as he wrote his number on my forearm - the way he held my wrist and blew against the ink to make sure it didn’t smudge.  He stood in the road as I drove my half passed out friends into the dawn’s light and called me two hours later to say good morning.

     The summer had been magical.  Every moment I wasn’t working at the grocery and he wasn’t working at Martin’s Music, we were together.  It was like Jake and I were magnets that needed to be together.  My parents were a little concerned about how much time I was spending with him and voiced it after they caught us making out behind the dugout on the school baseball fields.  Jake found himself in a long conversation with my dad without me present.  That was weird.  

      When summer was screaming to a close, my whole being was amped up to eleven.  I was getting ready for school and things got serious.  I was in love.  I knew it.  I voiced it.  I had never said ‘I love you’ to anyone besides my family.  I was rewarded with silence.  Just when I thought my heart couldn’t take it, he kissed me.  Jake kissed me and held me and treasured me and lulled me, and finally set me on fire with words of love the likes I was sure no one had heard pass his lips before.  

     Instead of dreading what was to come, we planned.  We planned every instance of every week, planning for calls, planning for visits during the holidays, planning for the future.  When we parted - me to Dearborne and him to Chicago - we had an idea of what our schedule would look like.  We spent the last days wrapped up with each other.  We were happy.  We talked about the future and how it looked for us.  We decided, together, that we could flourish.

      College had not been as easy as I thought it would be.  My schedule was crazy and hard and I had no one to turn to but myself.  Jake called me at the dorm every Tuesday and Saturday afternoon.  We’d write.  Before I knew it, mid-terms were kicking my ass and Thanksgiving was right around the corner.  Though I had hoped that he would make it home, the possibility of him picking up a week’s worth of gigs had become a reality and too good to pass up.  So, we promised that the holidays would be extra special.  That was what had led me to be in Blaine’s, waiting for Jake.

     “Just the Two of Us” started to pipe through the radio.  The happiness in my body doubled.  Cindy paused as I could no longer hide the smile that graced my mouth.   She took a chocolate chip cookie from the tray and set it before me with a wink.  

     “If that boy doesn’t get here soon, I’m afraid you’re going to explode,”  she teased.  “That’s on me because if it gets any sweeter, I’m going to go into a coma.”

      The chime on the door filled my ears and I felt his gravity pulling me - all of me - with force.  Jake walked through the door and I knew everything was… off.  His eyes sparked for a moment like usual, but then it was gone.  He walked slowly, his body rigid like he was dreading to talk to me.  Cindy was waiting at the counter for him.  The look in her eye matched my own.  The happy that had been in my gut turned to steel wasps as he paused with a hard swallow.

      “Can I get a coffee, please?”  he asked, his voice halting.

      “How about menus?”  Cindy asked as she reached for a fresh mug.

      “Just the coffee today, thanks,”  he said softly, his gaze shielded.  “Would it be all right if we sat in that booth over there?”

       Cindy nodded with a smile that did not meet her eyes.  I watched as he grabbed hold of my mug and walked away without a touch, a smile, anything that would convey the warmth that should have been present.  I felt my once excited feet shuffle forward.  The apprehension that poured out of my brain, I could taste it in my mouth.  He may not have waited for me at first, but he did wait until I arrived at the table before he sat down across from me.  He barely could hold my gaze as he seemed to find it difficult to get comfortable.

      “You look good,”  he said, finally after taking several sips of his coffee.  “How’s your family?”

      “They are well.  Grandma should be getting in tomorrow with Aunt Rose from their trip from Florida,”  I said, attempting to sound like I did not notice how he seemed to skirt looking directly at my face.  “How’s your folks?  Josh coming in from New York?”

      He nodded as he fidgeted with the handle of his mug.  “They’re good.  Josh drove up with me.  He’s already fighting with mom over which cookies to make.”

      I could feel it.  Jake was visibly upset, but I could feel the soured air between us.  I felt my lip tremble as I realized that he wasn’t just struggling to look at me, but was physically restraining himself.  This.  Whatever this was, I had felt it before but in a much smaller venue.  This was like when Robbie kissed me then a few days later said he didn’t like me anymore.  What stung for moments returned to my body.  Every nerve ending was paused, waiting for the shot that I suddenly knew was coming across my bow.

      “Mandy, you must understand that this summer meant everything to me,”  he started, each word fighting to get out of his mouth as if his lips were fighting against him.  

      My jaw felt like jello as my stomach rolled around like I had a bad case of flu.  His body seemed to bend away from his own thoughts.  The sight made my brain stand up in anger.  The skin around my eyes felt like it consisted of pulsing drums as I shifted in the seat.

      “I’m not understanding what’s happening, Jake,”  I said as I tried to reach across the table.  

      The words started to fall out of his mouth, but my ears fought against hearing them.  It was like every third or fourth or fifth was striking right when finally, finally my brain allowed one single word to penetrate - pregnant.  Everything became laser focused and my body shored itself up like it was about to be run over by a hurricane of maximum force.

      “When did this happen?”  I asked, my voice foreign to my brain.

      “Thanksgiving.  I knew I was drinking too much.  I knew it,”  he whispered, the anger towards himself bruising the softness of my own heart.  “I didn’t mean for it to happen.  Mandy, I fucked this up so bad.  I didn’t mean it.  I just…  I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

      My back was straight.  Completely opposite of the way it felt like from the inside.  My stupid jaw wouldn’t stop quivering as he continued to talk, but each word brought me closer to vomiting up the gallon of coffee that sloshed around my stomach.

     “I have to do what is right,”  he whispered, his eyes looking glassy with tears.  

     I watched in shock as he stood up, fetching a couple of dollars from his pocket to lay down on the table to cover the ticket and tip.  I realized then, there was no noise in the diner.  It was like the few tables that were occupied knew what was happening between us.  Jake leaned in close.  The smell of his cologne, his smell that I so had welcomed and had missed, invaded my senses.

      “Understand that I love you,”  he whispered.  “It’ll always be you, Amanda.  I know I messed this up.  My mistake.  I’ll always love you.”

      He kissed the ridge of my cheek.  I could feel his mouth trembling as he planted a ghostly kiss into my skin.  He did not withdraw quickly.  He hovered.  The click of his teeth chattering in his head was like nails in my heart.  His pain was palpable, bleeding into my own in a perfect storm of …  It was a perfect storm of…  Distance.

      He was gone.  My Jake was gone.  I felt the first tear strike my face and I wiped it away with a whimper.  Cindy approached, a wad of tissues in her hand and a reassuring touch to my shoulder.

      “Take as long as you need, sugar,”  she whispered, her fingers pressing gently into the sleeve of my sweater.

      In the matter of moments, my world was tilted to the side, kicked down the road and incinerated before my eyes.  Jake was supposed to be ‘it’ for me.  We had talked futures.  We planned everything.  We had had sex.  Oh my goodness the sex.  But we had taken care of each other - we talked about it and made sure we were careful.  I was important to him, he cared for me deeply, just as I cared for him, and he was…

Jake POV

     I sat in my car for hours after the diner.  What I had to do was hard enough, but to see it etched and blistered across her eyes killed me.  The last thing I ever wanted to do was to harm her.  The last thing I ever wanted to do is to face any time without her.  And yet, there I was, getting drunk in the front seat of my father’s car, alone, beyond confused at how something so stupid could have happened.  

     Junior year had been difficult.  It was even worse than my sophomore year.  I felt lost.  I enjoyed classes for the most part.  The work was hard, but manageable.  I enjoyed the gig work that I was able to drum up - and the job in the record store was great.  It was harder making friends.  Chicago was huge and might as well have been another planet compared to Frankenmuth.  Dorms were not for me.  It was too easy to get into trouble.  Too much booze, too many girls, too much of everything.  Getting that apartment with Derrick, even though it was crappy and in a shit building, was huge.  But it also allowed for more distraction than I had planned on.  If there was a way to ignore the entire year, even though I passed all my classes - barely - I would gladly do so.

      I didn’t want to go to that party.  Sam insisted.  He was all hopped up on his own stellar freshman year at Stanford.  Josh was doing amazing things at NYU.  Ronnie was killing it at Ann Arbor.  Then there was me.  I was in a position of losing my tiny little scholarship, and felt like I was squandering my parent’s money, as well as my own.  So, to go to a party with freshly graduated high school students was not high on my list of shit to do.  But then she was there.  Amanda Fischer.  She was adorable with a capital ‘A’.  She had been that kind of quiet pretty girl in high school that went unnoticed until she clobbered you with a smile that you were sure you did not deserve.  And there she was, with the same band of friends that she had been with since she had moved to town my senior year.  She watched over them like a mama hen, making sure everyone was having fun, but staying safe.

      She was like the sun.  Her laugh was music and I found myself drawing closer to her as the hours ticked by.  She was friends with everyone.  I finally found myself next to her and felt stupid when I pretended to not know her name. My heart pounded heavily when she said my name.  We talked like old friends instantly even though that had not been the case.  Our spheres had crossed and touched, but never really had I talked with her.  At the time, I wondered why that was.  She was a drama and music kid.  She was always around the fringes of my own group in school.  And yet…  

     We found ourselves tucked on a huge boulder on the edge of the river, just down a bit from the party.  I got to know her.  Everything.  She was so ready to laugh and ask questions and challenge me in my own thoughts.  I was hooked even before I was writing my number across her arm.  In my brain, I was already marking her as my own, but in truth, I was signing myself over to her.  

      The summer left me stunned.  Mandy was my drug and she made me better just in her presence.  I could see forward so clearly as to what was to come.  Everything was leading me to this, and I wanted to be a man for her.  I wanted to shelter and care for her, and wanted her to care for me and shelter me.  I dreamed of family and that big house on Birch Street, and growing old with her, learning all of her secrets and desires and just everything.  

     I returned to school revitalized.  Mandy had provided me with purpose and direction.  All was going better than ever before.  I picked up studio time for a couple of albums of little known blues and rock and roll artists.  I picked up more gig time on the bar circuit, too.  I played rhythm guitar for The Wringer on Tuesdays and Wednesdays at Odd Fellas Club, while Friday and Sundays was at the Blue Room with Three Broken Strings Band.  It afforded me to put away enough to increase my partner buy-in with Henry for Martin’s Music Shop.  Baird’s Records and Music was flexing my hours to spend more time in management, while Archer Studios invited me to sit with a variety of producers to observe their work.  It was going in the manner that my dreams had begged for, and it was all for her.

      I shone at midterms.  My adviser had even been surprised when I had shown up on time to our little meeting in regards to whether or not I was going to graduate on time.  The music director was impressed about the studio time, then presented me with an opportunity that I knew I could not say no to.  I could not wait for Thanksgiving and getting home to see Mandy.  To be close to her.  To be with her.  It would be a solid grand to play as a fill-in for a blues outfit for the ten days during the break - two shows a day at a venue three times the size the bars I was used to playing.  When I called and talked with Amada about it, she was over the moon for me.  We promised each other that Christmas would be all the more special in our reunion.  My roommate, Derrick, could not return home for the holiday and invited me to a dinner party to be held in our own apartment.  He had rounded up a handful of misfits to enjoy a dinner that lined up with the end of the show for Thursday evening.  How could I refuse?  I was already walking around like I had all the breaks suddenly pulled for me and life after graduation was going to be perfect.

     I came home in a haze of cigarette smoke and beer.  Derrick was corralling the group, which was supposed to only be ten people, but ballooned to twenty seven bodies crammed into the living and dining room.  When I walked in, it was hard not to continue that haze into a full blown feed bag of food and booze.  Most of the faces around me I had known, but there were a few new ones.  While I manned the sink when it was time for dish duty, a girl from the arts department was my drying partner.  Her name was Georgia and she loved listening to my stories about back home, my plans, and the - according to her - swoon-worthy romance with my girl.  

      I managed the music while Derrick was the best host he could be the rest of the night.  The morning brought my head down through a blur that held a weight on the skin of my back.  I was face down on my pillow.  At first, it felt like a fleeting dream of Mandy and those times that I had woken to find her all wrapped up in me and my bed and our love.  But the weight that felt ghostlike in between my shoulder blades did not dissipate when I shifted.  Instead, a heat was released, instantly striking into my side like a bomb.  My eyes flew open to find a splash of bleach blonde hair was mingled with my own.  The absolute shock that flooded every nervous system helped me to launch my body from the bed, taking the thin comforter with me.  

     Georgia groggily lifted her head, instantly making a face that indicated pain from a hangover.  She pulled her naked body up, tucking her legs under her as she visibly struggled to figure out where she was.  I panicked, fumbling in my search for my pants, coming up with nothing but her lingerie and skirt until finally, my pants close to the door.  I was stuffing my legs through the fabric as she started to laugh.

      She scoffed as she pushed her hair back in what seemed like an attempt to be normal.  “Shit, this was a mistake.”

      “No shit,”  I grumbled as I struggled with the button on my fly.  “What the hell happened?  How the fuck…”

      She laughed.  Outright laughed.  My stomach threatened to empty all over her as she slid from the bed to gather her clothes.  She stumbled from my room, right in front of Derrick and shut herself into the bathroom.  The heat that flooded my face and neck was enough to roast the sun.  And then it hit.  I had betrayed Mandy.  I had slept with that woman and had taken every shred of trust that my love had bestowed upon me and set it on fire.  The sound that burbled through my throat was foreign.  And then she was gone.  No other words were spoken.  She left me there in my own guilt.

      Josh flew to Chicago for an extended layover before getting back to school out east.  I had told him that I would fetch him. I couldn’t leave my room.  I could hear Derrick in the front room talking with him as I sat in the corner, eyes burning from grief.  My brother sat with me while my roommate disappeared to give me space.  I was heartsick.  I couldn’t hide the tears.  I couldn’t stop the venom for myself from spilling out between us.

      Somehow, he put me back together enough to make my gigs for that night.  He sat at the side of the stage, insisting that once I had myself started that things would level out - that I would be able to put things right with my Amanda.  And he was right.  I knew that I needed to tell her what had happened - not that I actually remembered anything.  Josh left early the next day with assurances that I just needed to stay the course and keep my shit together.  Mandy was everything.  She knew she was everything.  It was a mistake.  It could be a mistake that could be lived through.

      In the few weeks that flowed by between Thanksgiving and the winter holiday break, I had done just as Josh suggested.  I kept my nose down, worked my ass off both in class, and at the record store and my night gigs.  I kept to myself, turning down invites to go to the bars and hang out with friends beyond school.  

      December twentieth had rolled around.  Derrick was once again manning the apartment for those who could not return home for the holidays.  I set a stack of new records on the record player for him before I finished packing for my fast break from the likes of Chicago.  He had drifted out with a wave on his way to work and a thanks for the music.  Josh was arriving on the red eye.  The plan was that I was going to pick him up and drive home - arriving in time for breakfast with the family.

      It was after ten thirty when the knock came at my door.  I found Georgia in the grimy hallway, disheveled and looking upset.  I told her that Derrick was at work and I was on my way out to get her to go on her way.  

      “I’m pregnant,”  she said quietly, her dark eyes filled with tears.  “I’ve not been with anyone but you for months.”

      Just when my heart thought it couldn’t take more, I found that it exploded out my mouth and through the top of my head.  It was like all my bones were made of rubber and betrayed me in my quest to leave.  The words that wanted to come out of my mouth did not.  I should have questioned.  I should have handled things better.  Instead, I watched as my life with Amanda Fischer flew away.  Everything was decided before she left.  After the shock turned to a crispy mess at my edges, I knew.  I was going to have to figure it all out along the way, but life was not going to be what I wanted it to be.

      Josh drove us home.  The moment I saw him in the airport, he knew.  He professed that he knew shit had hit before he landed.  His face told me that he was keenly aware that I was wrecked.  We talked all through the drive.  Well, I cried through it, while he assured me that it would be well.  The family would throw their full support behind me.  I would not fail in this.

      The bottle at my side did little to make me feel like I was doing what was right.  I was doing what my family expected.  I would take care of this woman I did not know.  I would take care of the child in her belly that she said was mine from a night that I do not remember.  The disappointment that was in my father’s face was nearly as bad as the betrayal that showed in Amanda's eyes.  My mother was sick with worry.  The fury that she felt edged them all.  I had let everyone down and now I was going to show that I could be redeemed through marrying a stranger and doing right by my child.

Chapter 2: June, 1982: Amanda POV

     If you were to ask how I survived freshman year, I would simply tell you I had no choice but to bury myself in school.  I landed a job in the student bookstore in February, and took a weekend shift at the public library.  I deliberately shoved my brain into places it was busy so as not to have to think of anything except for the tasks before me.

     I could be found in the darkest hours, cursing myself for foolish tears that would somehow appear on my cheeks.  I was bleeding out.  My whole world was bleeding out and I had no idea what would be left if the hurt ever vacated my system.  I refused to broadcast my troubles.  How weak must I have appeared walking from class to class, feeling very much like parts of me were just gone, or rotting upon my sleeve.  My heartache did not keep my bosses from giving me positive feedback in my work.  It did, however, keep me in the shadows of parties and study groups and anything that required me to expose my wounds and false smiles.  By March, I found that every breath was not weighted.  Every muscle no longer felt frozen.  I found myself being able to talk to others without fumbling my words.

      Jake was to be at the forefront of everything I was doing.  To have my compass ripped away, tossed me into a current I was not nearly ready for.  But somehow, by some microscopic miracle, I survived.  I felt like I had a whole heart.  It was held together with rubber cement and sticky tape, but it felt whole once more.  I found myself heading out with my dorm friends to the end of the term parties and feeling a smile push its way back onto my face and words of future plans flying from my mouth like I meant them.

      When it was time to return home, I hesitated.  Jenni, my younger sister, said that she had seen Jake working at Martin’s Music all the way back in January.  To think that he was not in school hurt.  To know that he was already home, and with her on my home grounds, made me drag my feet.  I had my summer jobs lined up - once again working at the grocery, but also a few days in the library.  The hours would keep me fairly busy.  And friends from high school had already reached out, providing a safety net of sorts in the downtime.

      Home seemed smaller when I dropped my bag in the entry hall.  Mom and Dad were ecstatic to see me.  Jenni and Mel nearly tackled me.  Home may have felt smaller, but it felt good.  To have a home cooked meal and faces that I loved being so close was healing.  

     “Family picnic next Saturday,”  dad had announced as my sisters and I were working on the dishes.  “You are expected to be there.”

      We rolled our eyes playfully but knew from the authority in his tone that there would be no excuses taken to miss said picnic.  The week went well.  I was in the bakery at the grocery store, so most of the time, I was covered in sugar and flower and a sticky hairnet, but could have the radio on as loud as I wanted and danced like I didn’t care.  The library put me on the circulation desk and shelving books.  It wasn’t hard, but felt like my eyes were constantly searching for any evidence that Jake was indeed still living in town.  My heart struggled on both thoughts - that he did not finish school and was living in town - or maybe he decided not to follow through with his plans of partnering with Henry Martin at the music shop.  Both paths were not right and picked at the drying glue beads on my heart.

      Saturday started beautifully.  The city park was a jewel that straddled the river, meandering lazily with sport fields and monkey bars and slides and horseshoe pits.  The weather was crisp and perfect and drew out so many to enjoy the early summer day.  I had found a smile.  All the aunties and uncles and grandparents had ventured out to join us.  Jenni and I were running around with the littlest of cousins while Mel took her spot helping Mom organize the food.  I felt like a kite, bouncing between constricted fingers, ready to take off to be part of my own sky.  Not that my family was holding me down, but the time was coming for me to make my own way.  I could feel it in my skin as I spun little Zach around in my arms.

      I was distracted by Aunt Mary for a few moments as she waved for me and Jenni to move close together for a picture.  Next thing I knew, Zachary was booking it towards the riverbank just as fast as his little three year old legs could carry him.  I sprinted after him, the breath heavy in my chest with the thought that I may not be fast enough.  The boy’s peels of laughter shot me full of fear that he would lose his footing and fall into the fast moving water.  I swooped in just before he started to turn direction.  Instead of scolding though, I laughed with the boy as I lifted him up and over my shoulder in a show of play rather than fear.

      We giggled and laughed as I teased him, all the while I was walking us back towards safety.  He deftly shimmied his way across my back for a piggy back ride, his little hands taking hold on my shoulders and chin and neck.  I felt a ray of happy strike my chest.  

      “Amanda?”  

      I stopped in my horseplay with Zach to find Jake standing with a heavily pregnant woman.  He looked exhausted with dark smudges beneath his eyes.  His hair had been chopped short - shorter than he had ever had it before.  I of course noticed the matching gold plated bands right away on their hands with an eye that I hoped was not shocked.  There was no smile on his mouth and it hurt to see the corners turning downward.

     “Hello, Jake,”  I managed to say in a normal voice despite my insides sloshing around like I was on rough seas.  “How are you?”

     “Good.  Good,”  he said even though the corners of his eyes pinched in the way that made me know without a doubt that things were not good.  “Uh, this is Georgia.”

      The woman at his side was pretty in that make-up sort of way, though she looked sour in the late term of her pregnancy.  I smiled the best I could.  My eyes met his gaze for a moment, but it was enough.  It was like my heart flew apart at the realization that there was no joy in him - not any more.  I couldn’t force any words past my lips.  Fortunately, Zach must’ve picked up my unease and started to fuss against me, yanking my hair to move.

      “I better get going,”  I said, hoping that he did not hear the quiver in my voice.  “It was good to see you Jake, Georgia.”

      I took a few steps before getting Zach down so that he could run ahead of me back to the family corner.  I tried my hardest to keep my shoulders strong and my back straight, but I felt like jello by the time I got to Jenni.  Her eyes were trained over my shoulder as I’m sure she was watching the couple continue to walk down the path.

     “I have to go,”  I whispered to keep my voice from cracking.

     Jenni nodded as she drew in a sharp breath.  “I’ll keep you covered with the folks.”

     I slithered away, out of the park to my waiting bus.  The microbus didn’t want to start at first - almost as if hoping that what it saw was not Jake with another woman.  The flash of memory crossed my mind of my first time with Jake in the back of the vehicle I sat in.  The way he had held me, took care of me.  He may not have been my first, but he damn sure made it feel like he was going to be my last.  I gulped as I backed the bus up and made my escape.  The feel of his hands echoed across my body as I fought to keep in a jagged sob.  The words that he whispered as he worshiped my skin punched and kicked in my belly as my vision blurred.  

      I missed second gear as I shifted, the engine giving a jolt over my mistake.  It was enough to rattle me back to what I was doing.  The tears were hot on my flesh as I rushed to wipe at them.  Home felt like a dollhouse as I parked the bus and tumbled through the door.  I discovered that my shared room with Jenni was little more than a little girl’s fantasy.  Her unbroken, full of wonder heart’s pixie dust and magical dreams etched into every inch of walls, carpet and ceiling.  It resided in every book, every poster, every piece of art.  My feet carried me right to the bookcase.  Jenni had covered it with one of her cowgirl hats, but the journal was there - untouched, unmoved from when I had laid it to rest at Christmas.  The dark navy cover with little imprinted silver stars called out for my fingers to reach up and retrieve it.  

     The corner of my mouth flinched as the cover popped and the spine cracked as if in warning of what I was about to see.  Its pages were filled with little girl desires, goals, plans.  Words wrapped in shakily drawn hearts and clouds as she wrote out her deepest events with Jake.  There were pictures and mementos and sketches and memories of a forever that would never happen.

      A picture drifted to the floor.  The sound of his laugh filled my ears as I bent to pick it up.  He wore those short red swim trunks that day with a baseball hat, his hair sticking out from beneath it in all different directions.  We spent the whole day on the river, tubing, just the two of us.  It was the first time he had said he wanted me…  He wanted me that way.  He had been lost in thought, playing with my fingers and he just said it.  No smile.  No laugh.  No nothing but the words and the weight that followed felt like he had captured me like a butterfly, so careful not to bend my wings.  He was beautiful in that moment.  He was a man giving me a glimpse of a life that I so desperately wanted with him and him only.

      I was surprised that I was no longer crying as I traced the line of his arm in the picture.  I puffed out a breath like I was blowing out stale air from the attic.  I tucked the picture back into the diary and returned it to its resting place.  It was a little girl’s refuge and would stay that way.  These were memories of a better time and I just needed to accept what was instead of what could be.  The exhaustion of the moment pressed down on me and I was ready to release it.  I could say goodbye to Jake.  I would say goodbye to Jake.

Jake POV

     The day had started just as every other day had since everything had so drastically changed.  Instead of waking up in my tiny assed room in the shared tiny assed apartment with Derrick, I woke up in my tiny assed room in the shared tiny assed apartment with Georgia.  I was able to procure the living space above the accounting office downtown.  Of course, Mr. Moser, the accountant, was a total prick about everything.  Walk across the floor any time during office hours could result in a call that we were being too loud.  School was done - for both of us.  A fact that I was reminded of often.  I was working my ass off, sometimes finding that I was ‘home’ for six hours or less at any given stretch.  Mr. Henry was happy to let me come on full time right away at the music shop.  I also picked up weekend shifts at the papermill.  It still wasn’t enough to cover the medical bills, so I also was a substitute night janitor at the school.  I was lucky to sit a few minutes before each stretch of job.

      The pregnancy had not been an easy one.  Most days, Georgia could only go between the bed to the gross couch I was able to lift off my parents from the garage, to the bathroom.  Most days, her mood was foul, so me being at work all the time was not totally a bad thing.  Maybe a selfish thing, but not bad.  

      I married her the second week of January.  Mom was beyond pissed and Dad was disappointed.  Georgia had no ties to her family.  She did not have any friends that attended the services, either.  Josh was worried.  Ronnie and Sam were baffled.  And I was in mourning.  But I was doing what was right.  I was going to provide a home and family for this child that was to be mine.  I could be that man - that man that took responsibility for his shit.  There was no love in this relationship.  Some days, I wondered if there was any respect to it.  Minute by minute could be a struggle.  The arguments were steady with her lamenting that she was no better than her mother - she’d wind up stupid with a horde of kids she hated and a man…

     She often stopped short at that part.  I would be gone before she could finish the sentiment anyway.  I was not one of those men and she damn well knew it.  The doctor suggested that she needed to move to ease the stress on her body.  I had taken to walking with her when I had time between jobs.  Saturday mornings before I had to get over to Martin’s for a few lessons, followed by my twelve hour shift at the mill was one of the few times that I could walk her through the park.   

     With the end of the school year, I knew that I would have to address the fact that Mandy would be returning home.  I would have to acknowledge the wound that was refusing to heal within my chest. I was in no shape to see her dancing with her cousin in the sunshine that morning.  I flew apart at my seams the moment my eyes landed on her.  

        Mandy was the kind of beautiful that I could read like a song title, with notes that were delicate and fierce and…  And there she was before me.  Her raven hair tied back in a thick, glossy braid, with little stray wisps that kissed around her neck and face.  To hear the twinkle of her laugh filled my skin with an energy that I had been desperate for.  The instant pain that flickered through her features clawed open the flimsy stitches on my soul.

     Georgia felt it - the hard gravitational pull that Amanda had upon me.  I was sure of it.  Her body was instantly rigid and her breath was tight.  It was not lost on me that she said not a word to Mandy after I introduced her.  By the time we got home, she was spewing venom the likes I had never seen.  Instead of feeling shame, it was rage that blurred in my vision.

      “You cannot seriously think that I can just not feel anything,”  I said, my voice foreign to my ears as I hissed each syllable.  “You know what she was supposed to be - what she should be - for me.”

      Georgia’s eyes bulged with a sickening glare.  “Then I guess you shouldn’t have fucked me!”  

      The words were screamed across the entire downtown.  I was sure of it.  It was her favorite bite when she felt like she was cornered.  My fault.  I did this to her.  Maybe I did, but I wasn’t the only one in that bed.  The only reprieve with this argument was that at least it was Saturday and Mr. Moser wouldn’t be calling the cops on us this time.  Instead of watching her spiral out of control while my brain bit back words that were cruel, I merely grabbed my keys and walked out.

      I dug in my pocket for change that wasn’t there.  It would be a long day without food in my belly.  I pushed into Martin’s back door, shoving my smelly coveralls for the mill into the locker that Henry had gotten me, along with my keys and slammed the door with a huff.  I could feel my world crumbling further as the man that I called mentor looked me over.  He pointed at the office door while he finished up with a customer at the counter.  My heart sank.  Henry was one of those people that most wished for to be part of your life.  Martin’s music had been a refuge while I was growing up.  Dad and I would spend hours within its walls, playing, messing around, searching for whatever caught our eye.  Henry and Dad were good friends, but as I grew, I found that the man filled all those voids that I felt when I was around anyone else.  By the time I was fourteen, I realized I wanted to be him when I grew up.  

      Stepping into the small office that was crammed with filing cabinets and boxes, I poured myself a cup of tar that Henry called coffee.  I didn’t mind though.  It would at least be something in my stomach.  I looked over the schedule, noting that my one o’clock had been canceled - again.  I grumbled.  I got paid regardless, but honestly, how I could be considered intimidating was beyond me.

      “Bad day,”  Henry said as he closed the door behind him.

      I blew out a breath when I really just wanted to bury my face and cry.  Henry patted my shoulder as he moved around me.  He balanced his long frame against the edge of the old desk, arms folded across his chest.  The look in his face made all my upset that much worse.

      “I’m sorry I came in like this, Henry,”  I said, wiping my fingers across my forehead.

      “I think it’s time to talk about the partnership agreement,”  he remarked, his lips pursed.

     Oh hell no…  

     I felt everything rush to my feet.  The deal was that I would graduate, buy into the partnership and in five years, take over the business.  

     “I know things haven’t been going well,”  he continued, giving me a knowing look that I’m sure was supposed to be comforting but instead felt like it was my cue to panic.  “I’ve talked things over with Ada and we agree that the partnership that we thought we could have needs to be revised.”

      “I’m sorry,”  I mumbled out as I tried to find where my heartbeat had gone.  “Henry, I - I just don’t have the money to buy-in right now.  All my gig cash got eaten up first and now it’s just…  I just don’t have it… I didn’t mean-”

      One of his bear paw sized hands came down on my shoulder, his face a mix of upset and concern.  “Whoa, Jake.  Slow down.”

      “No, this is not how it’s supposed to be, Henry,”  I choked out across my tightening throat.  “I get it.  I’m trying to get there.  I’ll do anything to keep up with my end of the plan.  It’s everything -”

      I couldn’t breathe.  The man gripped my shoulder as grief and panic conquered my entire body.  The rattle and bang of the office door sent me to hiding my face.

      “What did you do, Henry?”  Ada’s strong tone was instantly defensive as her hand fell to my empty shoulder.

      “I just said that we needed to talk about our partnership,”  the man said softly, his hand rubbing into the thin sleeve of my t-shirt.  “Jake.  Come on, son.  It’s okay.”

      “Jacob,”  she soothed, hugging my head into her torso.  “Come on, baby.  It’ll be okay.  It’s not bad.  Just my stupid husband’s inability to read the room.”

      Once the emotions were let loose, I couldn’t drag them back.  Everything was flooding out of me - from the fight with Georgia, to seeing Mandy, from all the mistakes and all the loss, it all just washed out of me and I was helpless to stop it.  And these two lovely people who I considered second parents let it happen.  Let me cry like a damn child over a broken toy.  But they held me.  They must’ve realized that they had become my glue that was holding me together.  

      Ada was quick with a glass of water and tissues while Henry frowned as if he was trying to piece together what was going on.  These two were never able to have their own kids.  I was among the multitudes that they had unofficially adopted as their own - but Ada always said that I was the one she would fight to bring me home.  Mom would just cackle and offer me up.  Something that Mom missed was the drift of sadness that invaded Mrs. Ada’s eyes whenever that phrase was uttered.  

      “I didn’t mean to lose it like that,”  I said as I wiped at my face.  “I’m sorry you two.  It’s just everything I wanted to do is just gone.”

      “That’s why I wanted to talk about the partnership,”  Henry remarked, taking his seat behind the desk.  “It’s time to maybe restructure it - you’ve got a baby coming.  We need to make sure everything works here, okay?  I think I have a few ideas-”

      “You mean we, Henry - we have a few ideas,”  Ada said sharply with a pat to my arm.  

      He might’ve rolled his eyes dramatically, but the smile was there.  I felt my body return to normal.  A wisp of strength returned to my burning lungs as Henry and Ada outlined their ideas to keep things moving forward - taking a little bit of extra time before I took full ownership, but if I wanted it, Martin’s could still be mine.  The plan was enough to carry me through the rest of the day.  Ada showed up with a plate before I had to leave for the mill.  She grumbled that I was working myself to death.  I left with a smile - something that had been elusive as of late.  

      I dragged myself home.  I didn’t want to talk.  I didn’t want to fight.  I was near crawling as I took to the stairs outside of the apartment.  As I jingled the key in the lock, for a moment, I hesitated.  I wondered if Georgia would still be inside.  There were no ties to her other than the baby.  She had nobody other than myself to keep her here.  If I admitted to myself, I looked forward to meeting my child, loving them, sheltering them.  Perhaps it would be the catalyst to love for the wife I barely knew.  I knew there would be no love like what I still harbored for Mandy, but at the very least, have some semblance of a marriage.

      The apartment was silent when I entered.  I dropped my keys in the dish at the door and kicked out of my boots.  Once I stripped out of the coveralls, I lit a smoke before I headed towards the shower.  My eyes passed over the empty counter of the kitchen and the bare walls of the space.  The bedroom door was still closed and I decided not to look inside for her.  I did not need to be screamed at so early in the morning.  Instead, I let the shower penetrate my skin, washing away the harshness that Georgia had laid into me hours before.  A stray thought of how good Mandy had looked until I had to open my mouth to force her to look at me flashed across my consciousness.  The conflict struck my heart and stayed there.  

      I stood in the kitchen with a piece of bread with peanut butter smeared across it when Georgia slowly made her presence known.  I had made a pot of coffee but could only stare at it.  I was too damn tired to wash out the only mug in the apartment.  I was waiting for her words to slam into my head and tear me down to the floor.  Her silence made my skin prickle with anger.  All I could do was hope that perhaps she did not see the reaction.

      “I’m sorry, Jake,”  she said quietly.  “I’m sorry about earlier.  I was out of line.”

      I could feel my eyebrows pinch together in confusion.  Looking at her, how she held her hands under her swollen belly like she was already holding our baby, she looked lovely in her own way.  The tiredness of her eyes made me drop my guard.

      “You have to understand that I did not expect to see her yesterday,”  I said softly.

      “She’s everything you said she would be,”  Georgia sighed as she leaned against the counter next to me.  “Maybe more.  I think that’s why I reacted to the situation like that.  Made me realize a few things.”

      I couldn’t say anything.  Her dark eyes shimmered in the low light of the morning.  I shoved the rest of my peanut butter bread into my face to settle my quivering stomach.

     “I know you’re killing yourself to keep us afloat, Jake,”  she whispered.  “It won’t always be like this.”

      I looked at her as I filled a glass with water.  “I know.  You doing better this morning?”

      “Just ready for this baby to be here, I think,”  she muttered as her hands swirled around the top of her belly.  “Been super active all night.  Going to be bouncy, I think.  Kind of like you.”

      I couldn’t help but smile.  She beckoned me for my hand and I obliged as she took my wrist and guided my fingers to where the baby was kicking and moving.  My child.  No matter what - that was love.  Love waiting to be brought into the world.  It was what I clung to when the woman before me slung me full of arrows and venom.

      I pressed my fingers against what felt like the crest of a tiny knee and was rewarded with a hard thump.  I couldn’t help the smile that split my lips, nor the soft chuckle that rode out on my breath.  

      “I’ve got to get to bed,”  I replied as I continued to wonder at the life within her tummy.  “I’ve got to be back to the mill by noon.”

      Georgia nodded.  I noticed the corners of her mouth tightened.

      “Why don’t you come lay down with me,”  I said softly, my eyes lifting to hers.

      She nodded as I slipped my hand into hers to guide her along.  I slid into the small, double sized bed and waited for her to get comfortable on her side before I formed myself against her, my hand searching for the connection to our baby once more.  It was not love.  It was not love that I felt for her in moments like this, but at least it was comfort.  She could be kind.  I could return that kindness.  I fell into a sleep under the rhythmic kick of my baby and the soft breathing of my wife.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I hope you enjoy the story so far.  I’ll be back next Wednesday with another two chapters.  I will continue to warn that there is heavier angst ahead, and just be aware of your limits.  Next week will be tough.  

I have a tag list if you would like to join, or you can just reply to this or message me.

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[m1ckeyb3rry]

Pomegranate Ink: XX

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: You go on a mission for Gojo.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.9k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: there’s been too much gojo in pomegranate ink recently but the next few chapters after this one should be the exchange event which means minimal gojo !!

Although you were technically his coworker and equal now, the admiration you held for Kento Nanami had never quite faded. He had even given you his recommendation, so he obviously did not feel like there was a massive gap in your statuses — or, indeed, any gap at all — but that did not change the fact that when you joined Gojo in his office and saw that Nanami was standing there, you immediately straightened your back.

“Nanami, sir, I didn’t realize you’d be here!” you said before turning to Gojo. “And what was that crazy ominous text about, huh?”

“I’m the teacher here, so why am I the one you disrespect so much?” Gojo muttered. You gave him a look, because if you had to list all of the reasons why Gojo didn’t deserve any respect, then you’d be talking for a very long time.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N. I hope you’ve been doing well,” Nanami said, as polite as ever despite the typical squabble between you and Gojo. “I expect I’m here for much the same reason as you. Although, I’m not quite sure how keen I am on Gojo asking a child to do his dirty work.”

“She’s a Grade 1 sorcerer, the same as you, and you’re the one who recommended her, so why would I treat her as any lesser?” Gojo said. Nanami gave you a sympathetic frown.

“I recommended her because she deserves to be paid more. That’s not a reason for her to be getting jerked around by you and your inane demands,” he said. “She’s still only a second year, so please remember that the next time you ask her about something so serious.”

“What’s going on?” you said. “It’s alright, Nanami, sir. I mean, whatever Gojo’s about to say is definitely going to be something stupid, but I don’t mind helping him out. He’s done so much for me that it’s only fair.”

“Still, you should try to stay out of harm’s way as best as you can,” Nanami said.

“I can use my Reverse Cursed Technique now, so there’s definitely no issue,” you said. “Anyways, Gojo, get on with it. I’ll show you the meme Yuta made for me earlier if you’re quick enough.”

“He’s onto making memes now?” Gojo said in surprise. “That’s big news.”

“I think Toge got him into it,” you said. Gojo thought about this before nodding. It made sense; Toge had been a master with photoshop since birth or something, probably, and he was Yuta’s best friend. It stood to reason that his habits would eventually rub off.

“You’ll definitely have to show me later. I asked you to come here for a reason, though, so we should go over that first. Do you remember what I was telling you earlier, about that special grade curse that performed a Domain Expansion in front of Yuji and I?” he said.

“Yes. It was definitely a worrying thing, especially because Domain Expansions necessitate such a high level of skill. Even sorcerers that can perform them are so rare, which makes it a big problem that there are curses which now can,” you said.

“Exactly. There was recently an incident at a nearby high school that I believe those curses might be involved in, so I’m sending Yuji and Nanami to investigate. I’d go myself, but I have to go on a trip, so I can’t,” Gojo said.

“I don’t recall agreeing to do this,” Nanami interjected. Gojo ignored him; of course, Nanami definitely would go. Even though he was a rule-follower, he didn’t have a great love for the higher ups, and despite his comically constant irritation with Gojo, he also had a lot of faith in the man, which meant he’d begrudgingly oblige his requests, no matter what.

“Why’s that involve me?” you said.

“Originally, I thought about having you take the mission instead of Nanami, since you were a Grade 1 sorcerer who already knew about Yuji’s existence, which would mean one less person would have to find out, but I realized that there was a flaw in that plan: because you’re still a student, the higher ups would definitely be suspicious about that kind of assignment. Even a tiny bit of added scrutiny would be enough for them to pick up on Yuji, and I don’t need to explain to you why that would be disastrous,” he said.

“That’s why you went with Nanami,” you realized. “They don’t really care about him and what he does. Uh, no offense, sir, it’s just that you give off such a stiff vibe that they think you’re firmly on their side, so you’re totally above suspicion when compared to me and Gojo.”

“I understand,” he said. It was something about Nanami which you appreciated, the fact that he didn’t really get upset very easily. He was a relaxed man who was very unflappable, at least as long as Gojo was uninvolved.

“He’s also trustworthy enough to not reveal any details of the mission,” Gojo added. “These are all compliments, Nanami, so you should accept them!”

“Get to the point,” Nanami said. “I see what you want from me, but if you can’t send her on that mission, then why have you called her?”

“Y/N, while Nanami and Yuji are busy investigating that scene, I want you on a different case. You see, a few days ago, a restaurant randomly burst into flames. Although that could be a coincidence, something tells me that there’s more to it. It might even be that same curse from earlier. I want you to see if there’s some kind of greater plot going on here that the curses are working together to achieve, or if it’s just a coincidence that this kind of thing has been happening on such a mass scale recently,” he said.

“Very few things are coincidences,” you said. “Although I do think this one might be. I suppose there is a chance it’s not, though, so sure. I can do that.”

“Hold on a second. You said that that curse could perform a Domain Expansion. What if it pulls that out? Does she have any counter to that?” Nanami said. “If she doesn’t, then it’s totally irresponsible of you to send her. Even more irresponsible than I ever thought you’d be.”

“Um,” Gojo said. “Y/N? Do you have a counter for that?”

“Wow, Gojo,” you said. “I can’t believe you didn’t think of that. Thank you for the concern, Nanami, sir, but as the case may be, I actually do have something I can use if things come to it, so I’ll be alright.”

“If you say so,” Nanami said.

“I knew you’d have a way around it! Or else I wouldn’t have asked you to take the mission in the first place!” Gojo said.

“Oh yeah? What’s my counter, then, huh?” you said. Gojo was oddly quiet for a second.

“I don’t know?” he said finally, voice quiet like a mouse’s instead of boisterous as usual. “I just had faith that you’d figure something or another out. You’re a talented sorcerer, so I had no doubts you’d be alright. Besides, like you said, sorcerers with Domain Expansions are a rarity, so it’s not like I could just find and send someone who can use it to investigate. Even if I could, I wouldn’t trust anyone else the way I trust you, and anyways combat should be your last resort. Avoid it if possible.”

It was very difficult to be angry at Gojo. He looked like a sad, wet cat that had just been sprayed and scolded, pouting slightly, his shoulders slumped. You clicked your tongue before leaning over and hugging him tightly.

“I was only joking. I know you wouldn’t put me in harm’s way if you could help it. I’m a Grade 1 sorcerer now; how could I claim that title if just a Domain Expansion was enough to take me out? You were right to ask me. I’ll take care of things, don’t you worry, and I’ll be back in time to take part in the exchange event, too,” you said.

“For the record, I wasn’t joking,” Nanami said. “But there’s no point in further argument. You’re right about one thing, Gojo, and that’s that there aren’t that many sorcerers around that we can trust. Like it or not, we’ll have to make use of Y/N’s talents.”

“I wouldn’t have asked her if it wasn’t like that,” Gojo said. “That’s the world we’ve been given, though, so we’ll make the best of it. Y/N, I’ll take you out for dinner and shopping once you’re back as a thank you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you said. “But you know I’d never say no to such an offer! You better have that credit card at the ready. I’m taking you up on it for sure.”

“Good,” Gojo said. “I expected no less.”

You were wearing a pair of sunglasses Gojo had lent you as you walked down the street, attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible. You didn’t want to be at all recognizable — not by the curses, who would probably not remember your face even if they saw it, but by anyone related to jujutsu society who might be out and about. If one of your cousins or someone like that saw you, then you’d be in a world of trouble. After all, they’d definitely ask you why you weren’t at the school, and what would you even say to that? You couldn’t exactly tell them that you were on a secret mission for Gojo, so it would be an awkward conversation overall. You had faith in your disguise, though, so there was definitely no issue —

“Hey, Y/N! I wasn’t expecting to see you out here!” a friendly voice said.

You whipped around, trying to discern who it was that had recognized you. The typical culprits were absent — any of your classmates, the third years, your family members, or any of the higher ups. Finally, your eyes lit upon him, beaming and obviously about to say something again, just as loudly as he had the first time.

“Shut up,” you hissed, wrapping your arm around his neck to yank his head down and slapping your hand over his mouth. “I’m supposed to be in disguise right now.”

“Really?” Takuma Ino said, voice muffled by your palm. “You look exactly the same but with sunglasses, though. As far as disguises go, I don’t think it’s that effective.”

“What are you doing here, anyways?” you said, deciding you’d have to reevaluate your disguise at a later moment. Pushing your sunglasses up to rest on the crown of your head, you let go of Ino, who rubbed the back of his neck and readjusted his shirt collar.

“I was planning on going to see a movie at the theater a few blocks down! Do you want to come?” he said. You thought about it for a second. It would be fun, after all — Ino was the kind of person that you couldn’t help liking. He had this unfailing optimism about him that made him a great mission partner, and he also was one of those people that had a moral code they actually followed. Overall, you were definitely really fond of Ino, but you knew you couldn’t take the time off even if you wanted to. Gojo was counting on you.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could. I’m actually busy right now, though,” you said. Ino shrugged.

“No worries,” he said. “I’ll see you around, then! Let’s try to go on a mission together at some point. It’s way better doing stuff with you than it is with most of the other Grade 1 sorcerers. Last time I went, they had me go with Naoya Zenin.”

You winced at the mention of the name alone. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was fine, I guess. He’s just kind of—” Ino leaned in to whisper in your ear “—a douchebag.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you said with a snort. “Luckily, I haven’t seen him since he was suspended after that mission where he supervised me. Douchebag is the best way to describe him, so don’t think I’ll tell on you for thinking like that.”

“Thanks,” Ino said, clearly relieved. “Anyways, I should go! The movie’s starting soon, and I like watching all the trailers that come before it, so I can’t be late. See you around, Y/N!”

“See you,” you said, waving as he turned the corner. It was a little disappointing. The downside of being a Grade 1 sorcerer: you had even less time to just enjoy your time as a student. Instead of getting to train with your friends and watch movies, you were completing a dangerous mission, with unregistered special grade curses as your opponents. While Ino watched his movie and your classmates prepared with one another for the exchange event, you were conducting a potentially fatal investigation.

At least you got paid way more than the rest of them — bar Yuta, of course, who was rolling in the cash of his special-grade salary. But he was also an entire continent away, so you didn’t envy him too much.

The restaurant that Gojo was talking about was closed off with construction barriers and yellow tape. Fiddling with the pouch of needles you carried with you at all times, you stepped over the tape and around the barriers, closing your eyes and sharpening your cursed signature detection.

The incident had happened a few days ago, so they were incredibly faint, but the residuals were definitely there. Gojo had been right in sending you; the whispering remnants of cursed energy would’ve escaped almost anyone else’s notice. It was only because of your advanced signature perception that you had caught them, and even then, you would’ve missed them if you weren’t looking for them in the first place.

“One — two — three — four,” you counted, crouching before the only seat that wasn’t scorched. For some reason, this residual felt familiar to you, though you couldn’t quite place where you remembered it from. That only made you feel more uneasy; was it a curse you had faced before? Or was it a possibility that someone you knew was working as a curse user alongside the special grade curses?

It couldn’t be anyone too familiar, though. You would’ve known who they were for sure if you had met them more than a few times. Whoever’s residual this was, they were a person you had only encountered once or twice. That didn’t narrow it down any, of course, and indeed it made it more difficult for you to pin down who it could’ve belonged to. How were you supposed to recognize someone you barely knew?

Pulling out your phone, you typed out your findings in a new note. Four residuals at restaurant. Three belonging to curses. One belonging to a curse user. Curse user’s residual is familiar but unidentifiable.

You’d email the entire attachment to Gojo once you were finished with the mission so that he had a frame of reference and some background for when you gave him the official report in person. This way, you’d also be sure to not forget anything, since you were writing it all down as you discovered it.

Leaving the strongest source of the residuals behind, you went over to one of the charred pieces of wood that must’ve once been a chair. When you poked it with your finger, it crumbled away into ash. Your lips tugged downwards into a frown, and you knelt, squinting at it. This was the important part; curses could appear anywhere, but whether they were involved in the disaster was what you were supposed to be investigating.

All residuals told a story. What did these ones have to say? What had happened at this restaurant? Was it something mundane, or was something more sinister at work?

A man set ablaze by something cursed. Flames bursting up at random. People burning. Fire licking throughout the restaurant, stopping at the feet of the three curses and their benefactor and then suddenly extinguishing. The foursome leaving the restaurant with nary their clothes singed.

Gojo was right: it had not been a coincidence. This restaurant had burnt on purpose by what you could only assume was the curse he had met earlier, the fiery one with the head like a volcano. Furthermore, you could sense no other residuals besides the ones left by the group, which meant that the curse had done it for no reason other than because it could.

Naturally, there was no sense in trying to assign meaning to the actions of curses. They were who they were; it was in the character of a curse to destroy, so there wasn’t any morality to it. They weren’t evil out of conscious choice — that was what was intrinsic for them, so that was how they acted. Still, this felt unnecessarily cruel, a display of senseless violence just for violence’s sake.

Fire seems to have been set with malicious intent. No evidence of a struggle. No evidence of a need for self-defense. No evidence of outside intervention via sorcery.

Leaving the restaurant behind, you leaned against the wall, trying to figure out what you should do next. Any residuals that the curses might’ve left as they made their escape would be washed away by now, simply due to the massive traffic in the area, so you couldn’t track them that way. But what other clues did you have about their hiding spots? How else could you observe them? Your findings weren’t anything special, especially without much to substantiate them. They could be put down to the typical behavior of curses, even though you had this sense that something else was at play.

“Honestly,” you said, puffing out your cheeks and letting your sunglasses fall back on the bridge of your nose. “This blows. What am I supposed to do now?”

“You know,” a wheezy voice said from beside you, “I never thought someone as mortal as you would dare stick their nose where it doesn’t belong, but I guess humans really are stupid."

It was like that snake curse of Elakshi’s all over again. You hadn’t even noticed the curse approaching, but here it was, in this deserted alleyway with you, right next to you. It was a grotesque mixture of person and horror, too close to humanity to be dismissed in turn, too close to monstrosity to be given any real sympathy.

As Itadori and Gojo had said, his head resembled a volcano, with one single, huge eye glaring out in front of him. His back was hunched, like he was an elderly man, and he wore a yellow-spotted cape draped over his shoulders. He mirrored your position, making no move to attack you, obviously delighting in the fact that you recognized him.

“You’re the curse that Gojo fought,” you said. The curse spat, his saliva splattering against the concrete and melting it, steam arising from the spots where it had dropped.

“Satoru Gojo,” he snapped. “Yeah, I fought that weakling.”

“Didn’t he beat you? You shouldn’t call him weak. If anyone’s weak, it’s you,” you criticized. This was, in hindsight, not the smartest thing you could’ve done, but you found it a little humorous that this curse really believed Gojo was the weak one between them two.

“What?” the curse said, flames bursting from the openings which must’ve functioned as his ears. You winced, taking a step back from the massive heat suddenly emanating from him. “You think I’m weak? You are nothing compared to Satoru Gojo and I. You could never defeat me, and yet you dare call me weak?”

“How did you know I’d be here?” you said, deciding to get to the point before he began to attack. “You must’ve, or else you wouldn’t have come. I know your hideout isn’t nearby, because I would’ve sensed it, which means that, for some reason, you believed that a sorcerer would come to the scene of your crime. Why? What tipped you off?”

The curse ignored you. “If you think I’m so weak, then fight me yourself! Come on, girl, why don’t you?”

“I’m not in the mood,” you said, eyeing him warily, taking another step back. Gojo had recommended you avoid combat, and you were inclined to agree with him. This did not seem like an ideal matchup for you; this curse, whoever he was, seemed to be the type that was focused on brute strength and sheer power. Furthermore, there was no way you could take him by surprise, and even if you got lucky and managed to land a hit or two, there wasn’t a guarantee that they’d be immediately fatal.

Your best bet would be to escape now, before he could attack you. But where would you go? The alleyway opened up into bustling streets on either side, which meant that you’d be putting civilians at risk if you fled and the curse decided to chase you. The question of where he had come from also remained. Did he have backup? Even now, were there more curses on their way to attack you? Or were the majority of their forces located in that high school where Itadori and Nanami were operating?

“That high school,” you continued in a forced show of bravado. “You’re involved in that, aren’t you? You and the other unregistered special grades. Have you all formed some kind of group?”

“Why should I answer your questions?” the curse shouted, the top of his head emitting wisps of smoke, threatening at an eruption. “You’re a human, so I owe you nothing! I know you’re running because you have no hope of fighting me, but don’t think I’ll let that happen. I’ll kill you before you can take another step!”

“Who are you?” you pressed, ignoring his threats. “Curse, tell me your name. If it makes you feel better, mine is Y/N L/N.”

The curse froze in his tracks, fire abruptly cooling, the air almost chilly in the absence of his furnace-like heat. Then, to your surprise, he took a step backwards, though he still trembled with rage, his single eye narrowed at you. There was a war in that iris, like he could not come to terms with what he had to do.

“Y/N…L/N?” he repeated. You hadn’t been expecting that kind of reaction, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

“Yes,” you said. “And you are? Who do you work for? I know you’re operating alongside at least one curse user. Who are they? I know I recognize their residuals, but I can’t place where from. Who is it? Tell me, now, before I — I call Gojo!”

“Satoru Gojo is abroad,” the curse said. “So don’t think that that kind of threat will work on me. But if you really are Y/N L/N…I’ve heard about you, in fact.”

“From who?” you said, still trying to figure out how he knew Gojo wasn’t in the country. “Who told you about me? Why does it matter who I am? Didn’t you just want to kill me?”

It wasn’t like you wanted him to kill you, but the total flip in his attitude alongside the reluctance with which it had occurred made you mistrustful. Was this a way for him to catch you off guard? If that was the case, then it wasn’t working. You still didn’t believe in him one bit, and you also couldn’t figure out what kind of angle he was playing it. It was totally unbelievable for him to have heard of you — unless he somehow knew about that.

“I’ve been told that you cannot die if we want Sukuna on our side,” the curse said, though his hands twitched, like he wanted to reach out and burn you with them regardless. “If we want him to fight with us, then we cannot kill you.”

“So that’s your goal,” you said. “Or at least one of them: you want to reawaken Sukuna fully. I guess that that’s not too much of a surprise, though I don’t understand what my involvement in the scenario is.”

The curse’s lip curled in disgust. “I don’t, either. You’re just a bag of bones, held together with a minuscule amount of cursed energy. What vested interest does someone like Sukuna have in a weakling like you? Why does it matter that you live? I’d ignore the warning, but last time I did…well. We can’t risk it. Not yet, anyways. Get out of my sight, irritating pest, before I change my mind and decide that killing you and shutting your insufferable mouth is worth risking Sukuna’s aid in our plan!”

“That’s fine by me,” you said. “I’ve found out more than enough. I hope to never see you again, Mount Fuji!”

“Mount Fuji?” the curse screeched after you. You could see the air shimmering around him, a warning of an imminent explosion as you sprinted away. “Be grateful you escaped this time! It won’t be the case if we ever meet again, Y/N L/N!”

With trembling fingers, you finished typing your report on the bus, glancing out the window periodically in case the curse had decided to chase you all of this way. Once it had been formatted and updated with all of your findings, you downloaded it as a PDF and emailed it to Gojo. This was a weight off your shoulders; at least now, even if that curse did come for you, you had managed to get the information to Gojo.

It had been more productive of a mission than you had originally anticipated. Although some of your conclusions were little more than conjecture, only guesses based on offhand comments made by the curse and the more circumstantial evidence, you felt confident about most of it being correct — and you told Gojo as much when you met him next.

“You really think there’s someone leaking our information?” Gojo said. You sighed, swirling a spoonful of sugar into the tea Gojo had offered you. Nanami and Itadori had just returned from their mission, and you were sure that whatever they had discovered would reflect what you had.

“The curse knew that I’d be there, which I suppose you could put down to a lucky guess, but he also knew that you were abroad. There’s no way he could’ve just happened upon such a random explanation; the most likely solution is that someone’s giving them our information. It would also account for why those residuals felt so familiar,” you said.

“Someone in jujutsu society, who you’ve only met once or twice, is working with the curses,” Gojo said, massaging his temples.

“I’d like to say it’s Naoya,” you offered. “Mostly because I hate him and believe that most of the world’s problems can be put upon him. But, unfortunately, I’d have recognized his signature, and anyways he wouldn’t benefit from jujutsu society collapsing, so we can rule him out.”

“I wouldn’t have really suspected him in the first place,” Gojo said. “If I had to guess, it’s someone associated with one of the schools.”

“Another student?” you said. Gojo nodded.

“Or a faculty member, possibly. I doubt that they would be the curse user whose residuals you recognized, but I do think that that’s where that group is getting their information from. I’ll ask Utahime to look into it — I’ve known her since I was young, so I can be reasonably assured that she’s not the one who’s leaking our secrets,” he said.

“Then whose residuals could they be?” you said. Gojo shook his head.

“I don’t know. I hope that, by catching the spy, we can figure that part out,” he said.

“There’s another thing I don’t understand. If the curses are working together to resurrect Sukuna, then why would a sorcerer be working with them? What use would any of the students have with a world where Sukuna reigns once more?” you said.

“Use your imagination, Y/N,” Gojo said. “Think about it. There’s a lot of reasons that people would want to ally themselves with the curses, especially because of how powerful they are. Even if they don’t agree with the final outcome, they might be trying to use the curses’ powers to their own ends.”

“Do they really think that they can deal with curses like that and win?” you said derisively. “It never ends well when sorcerers get involved with curses, especially inexperienced sorcerers, which is what they would be if they’re a student.”

“If they’re inexperienced, then they wouldn’t have the foresight to realize that. Or maybe there’s something they want badly enough that they’ll take the risk,” Gojo said. “There’s a lot of reasons. I can’t be certain, but anyways, I think it’s the most likely explanation. Like I said, we’ll have Utahime help us. She may not excel in strength, but she’s always been the observant type. If anyone can get to the root of things, it’s her.”

“That’s good,” you said. “Yeah, you’re right. There’s not much more we can do. It’s just all so much, and so sudden, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Gojo said. “Thank you for going on that mission. You definitely managed to make the most of it. I’m just glad that you escaped the curse without having to fight. I don’t know how that kind of a confrontation would’ve gone.”

“Probably not well,” you admitted. “He’s not the kind of opponent I’m best suited to face off against.”

“How’d you manage it? You were obviously around him long enough that you could have an entire conversation with him, so how were you able to escape fighting? He was so ill-tempered when we met,” Gojo said.

“Maybe that’s just your personality,” you suggested weakly. You had avoided including that particular detail in your report, mostly because you were still struggling to come to terms with it and what it meant.

“Do you really think so? If that’s the case, then he definitely would’ve fought you, because according to your report, you were just as annoying as I would’ve been in the same situation,” he said.

“No,” you said. “That’s not why. It’s because of Sukuna.”

“Sukuna?” Gojo repeated incredulously. “How’d he end up there?”

“He wasn’t there. Not physically, at least. It’s the same thing from when I went to help Megumi, when Sukuna refused to genuinely, properly fight me. For some reason, my death is something that he wants to avoid, to the point that even that curse believed that killing me would automatically disqualify Sukuna from their list of allies,” you said, and you were surprised to feel your throat swelling, choking with inexplicable tears. “I don’t understand it, Gojo. What does he want from me?”

You buried your face in your hands. You knew it was a little ungrateful — after all, you had the King of Curses supposedly watching over you, his name alone ensuring you did not die, but why did it not feel like a blessing? Why was there no benevolence to it? Why did it frighten you so much?

Sukuna did not care about you. He wasn’t protecting you, necessarily. He was just keeping you around for some greater purpose, one that only he could fathom. That was what you feared. What would Sukuna’s whims cost you? What was it that he was saving you for? What would he do to you once you had fulfilled his wish? Because you knew he hated you. He hated your ancestor, and therefore he hated you, and although there was something blocking him from it, he certainly wished for your death. So what was it that he could possibly want from you above all else? What could he possibly want so much that he would even delay the death he so longed to see for it?

Gojo’s hand was soft atop your head. He did not pat you, nor did he stroke your hair. He just let his hand rest there — it was as much comfort as he knew how to give, after all. This was Gojo at his core: a man who did not really understand how to love someone else. Maybe another person might’ve resented him for it, but it only made you feel fiercely more for him, made you wish you could go back in time to when he had been a child and tell him that one day, he would meet you, someone who’d always love him, no matter what, and that he only had to hold on until such a day could come.

“He wants something only you can give,” Gojo said. “I don’t know what that could be. Sukuna’s never been the kind of person that can be easily understood. It doesn’t make sense to me, either, but that’s how it is.”

“I don’t know, either,” you said. Gojo ruffled your hair before retracting his hand.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to know immediately. But think about it, alright?” he said. “And in the meantime, you might as well enjoy the benefits a little. You can’t escape it, so take advantage of the fact that he’s decided, for some reason or another, that you are important to his plans!”

“Yes,” you said. “You’re right. There’s always a bright side, isn’t there?”

“There you go. Cheer up! Let’s move on to more fun topics. The exchange event is in a couple of days. Aren’t you excited to see everyone again?” Gojo said.

“Not when one of them might be a traitor,” you confessed. Gojo shook his head.

“Don’t think like that. Certainly, you shouldn’t trust anyone with your deepest secrets — except for Yuta — but they are all your friends. You can still be happy to see them. Let Utahime and I deal with the problem of the traitor; you just enjoy yourself at the event, alright?” he said.

“Alright,” you agreed. “And although I agree that he’s definitely not the traitor, why is only Yuta deemed so trustworthy? Why didn’t you include Maki or Tullia on the list?”

“He’s in Africa, so it wouldn’t make any sense for him to be the spy,” Gojo said. “He’d be an awful source of information, since he pretty much…has none at the moment. We have to suspect basically everyone else, even though you’re right in thinking that it’s unlikely for either of those two to be spies.”

“I see,” you said. “I guess there’s nothing to be done about it now, is there? This is what it’ll be like until we can catch the spy.”

“I’m afraid it is,” Gojo said sympathetically. “Hey. Wanna go get ice cream with me?”

“You just got back from your trip, didn’t you? I don’t want to make you go out if you’re tired,” you said. Gojo had insisted on meeting with you the instant he had returned from the airport, and though he had done an admirable job at hiding it, you knew he was still exhausted. Still, he shook his head.

“Nah, I was going to go either way. It’ll just make me less lonely if you come along, too,” he said, standing up and pulling you to your feet. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

You laughed softly. “You know, Gojo, sometimes I think you’re not that bad.”

“Hey, thanks! Anyways, I’m thinking of trying a new flavor, but I’m not sure if I’ll like it. Do you promise to finish it for me if I don’t?” he said.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever. You have to pay for it, though,” you said.

“Pinky swear?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

[lobotomyincorporated]

Whitenight's victims disciples

Oliver: "Y-you look so pretty. C-Can I draw you?"

Oliver is a modest worker that is prone to crying. She loves to draw the other staff and abnormalities she works with. She was the first to enter thanks to the training captain's advice.

+

Gonzales: "Hey man, don't sweat it. Senor Punishing Bird gets out all the time. Mind the pecking though!"

Gonzales is an eccentric employee who enjoys his job a little too much. He tends to be an airhead but is surprisingly capable of working under pressure. He also helps relax other workers by playing games and cracking jokes.

+

Eden: "Yes, yes, working with One-Sin is great and all, but when do we get to the--you know--nitty gritty stuff?"

Eden is a nefarious worker who can't stand a normal routine. He lives off the excitement and dread of dealing with Ordeals and escaped abnormalities. He's brash and sometimes callous, but he still retains a reasonable respect for his fellow workers. He likes to occasionally hang out with Oliver and watch them draw.

+

Xavier: “Sigh, man, I need a damn raise.”

Xavier is a composed worker who is very reliable in serious situations. He takes on the mantle of a leader whenever a captain isn’t around to settle things but lacks the resolve to do anything more than basic obligation and survival. He likes to take naps on his breaks.

+

Cheo: “It’s all fun and games until Olive gets worked up.”

Cheo is a prudent employee who specializes in strategy and tactics. However, what they make up for in brains they lose in basic motor skills. They’re a klutz. Olive doesn’t know what’s worse, Cheo’s constant accidents or their chill despondence over them.

+

Olive: “You tripped and let Funeral out, I’m ALLOWED to be worked up!”

Olive is a steadfast worker that agonizes over every little, potential threat to his company and workers. His priorities for his occupation make him look to be a weird mix between a mother-hen and a teacher’s pet. Cheo’s prone to accidents makes him want to tear his hair out.

+

Max: “At least this off-graded green goes well with my eyes.”

Max is Brook’s younger brother with an optimistic personality. Fashion means everything to him and enjoys the variety of styles the abnormalities and E.G.O. have to offer. Unfortunately, there is little that matches his taste, but he still enjoys the experience, nonetheless.

+

Brook: “Groan, I don’t have the energy to deal with this today.”

Brook is Max’s older sister and has a very pessimistic mindset. Her personality makes it hard for others to work or mingle with. She tends to hesitate when working in new containments and suppressions. She’s secretly jealous of her brother’s positive attitude and lashes out because of it.

+

Vincent: “How does our Captain do it, I wonder.”

Vincent is a modest employee who reminds many workers of the Welfare sephirah. Growing up in a Nest gave him both the knowledge and sophisticated manner of speaking he utilizes now, but with the addition of a more quiet, soft-spoken style that alludes to his silent generosity. He looks up to the training Captain and Sephirah for their kindness.

+

Khanna: “HAHA, who will I get to pulverize today?!”

Khanna is a ferocious fighter who enjoys suppressing anyone and anything. What she lacks in mental capacity she makes up for in her physical abilities. Her character is incredibly brash but holds her friends and family close to her. She works here so her family can move into the L Corp. Nest.

+

Cormac: “Hold your horses, everyone, I’ve got this!”

Cormac was one of the oldest employees working in L Corp and was the former first-floor central captain. A cheerful fellow who always held their head high, he was a leader who provided staff comfort and strength during the hardest times. His glasses mean a lot to him.

+

Nat: “…”

Nat is a quiet and observant worker who never said much. His interactions with abnormalities and staff were minimal at best. The training captain is the only one who was ever able to get an obligatory response from him. Some wouldn’t be surprised if he had a crush on her.

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

So...can we have either Professor Pepa with Delinquent student Felix or maybe Professor Felix with Needs Better Grades Student Pepa?

Oh a CLASSIC porn trope? I'm oddly excited for this one (and i have a teacher x teacher one in the inbox too ;))

(Also pls note, for the sake of the fic, Pepa is young 20 ish, Félix is...let's say in his 50's)

Félix enjoyed teaching. These guys were the future, and he liked being a part of it. But of course, teaching wasn't the perfect job. There was always that one kid. That one student that was a little rough around the edges. This year, it was Pepa. And Pepa was a boy crazy, loud bubblegum chewing little spitfire. She was really only here because her mother made her, but she hated being here. Despite the fact that she was incredibly intelligent. Seriously, girl could do math better and faster than anyone in this class.

She just hated it, so everyone had to suffer. Her grades, her poor mother, the students she chose to distract. She was a nuisance, especially when you tried to confront her. She'd lash out, she'd bark, she'd insult, and for one of her boyfriends, she'd claw and she'd thunder. And yet, despite all of her bullshit, she was his favorite. Now Félix was going to be honest with himself, he liked Pepa. Pepa was so fucking cute. Her mane of red hair, her thin frame, her freckles, and she had delightfully small tits. He could even see her little nipples occasionally, if the weather was as cold as her glare. He wanted her. He thought such a small little lady would look so good under him.

Yet he never acted. How could he? He was a professor, a respectable one at that. He had been teaches for ages, he couldn't blow that for some girl. Even if some girl looked especially cute right now, not listening to his lecture and focusing on applying lipgloss to her little lips, grinning with her cute little gap teeth. He shouldn't feel this way about a student, but he did. Every impulse in him told him to just manhandle her and ram himself into that tight ass-

He looked at the time. No wonder everyone was getting antsy, they had a minute left. He sighed, put his chalk back by the chalkboard.

"Okay, that's all for today. Remember, test tomorrow everyone, midterms. I'm letting you guys do open book, but that doesn't matter if you don't know the process. Study hard, get good sleep, eat a good breakfast, and Pepa, a word please."

Pepa was about to leave her desk, before groaning loudly in defiance. She gave her friend a high five as she left, and eventually, the room held just himself, and Pepa. She looked so disinterested, and it was terribly sexy to him. Not that she'd ever know. She popped her gum at him, as if she wasn't already portraying the fact that she was bored.

"So, what?"

"Pepa, you know why we're talking here."

"Is it because I don't give a shit about this class?"

He sighed as he slowly approached her desk, gently tapping his knuckle against it. Papers were all over her desk, and he always loved her pretty hand writing.

"It's because I WANT you to care. You're so smart, you could be taking extra credit even."

She snorted at him, as if he said something funny. Her earrings looked so pretty as she fixed a bit of her hair back.

"Yeah, and do more work? Not a chance. I mean I'm not FAILING-"

"You're hanging a 'C-'. You're gonna fail tomorrow if you don't do something to fix it."

Pepa got up from her desk, sighing as she put her hands on her hips. He tried not to look at her legs when he was talking to her, even though they were so long and thin and perfect.

"Okay, okay, FINE. I know what this is. You really want me to 'pass the test' huh?"

Félix gave her a look, before nodding.

"Well OBVIOUSLY I want you to pass! You're a bright young lady, I want people to see that!"

Pepa rolled her eyes, scoffing in almost disgust. She took her gum out of her mouth, and after getting rid of it, got to her knees, right in front of him. He jumped a bit as soon as her hands grabbed onto his belt, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Woah woah-what are you DOING?!"

Pepa looked up at him with her eyes. They were so green, so pretty, so mischievous.

"Don't act dumb! I'm giving you what you want, you give me what I want."

"That's not what I MEANT! You CANNOT-"

He freezed as soon as her hand cupped his crotch. Oh even though his pants, they felt so soft.

"Your balls are so HEAVY. I'd be doing you a huge favor. Do a huge one for me."

Félix shouldn't. He'd jerked off to the thought of it many times, but this was REAL. This was a real student who was holding him, who was nuzzling her face against the crotch of his suit. It was different. It was better. He looked at her, the door, then her. He took a deep breath, before making his choice.

"You can't tell ANYONE, do you understand?"

"I won't tell if you won't. We starting now, or what, old man?"

He nodded, and helped her with his belt. He pulled himself out, and tried not to absolutely love how her little hand made his cock look huge. He wasn't a 'stud' by any means, but he was terribly thick, he'd give himself that much. She wasn't intimidated by it, slowly stroking him and watching as the skin rolled back and forth. She pressed it against her cheek as she continued to softly stroke, showing just how comfortable she was with a cock.

"Let's negotiate. What do you want?"

"Titjob."

"Of course. And I want an A+."

"I'll give you a C+"

He flinched a bit as her grip got just a bit tighter. Probably best to not piss off the one who's holding your dick, even if she was cute.

"I don't give C+ blowjobs, you dementia douchebag."

"First of all, not that old. We'll do A-."

"Deal."

Would it look a bit suspicious, sure, but that didn't matter. What mattered were those freshly glossed lips as they peppered his length in kisses. Her lips were so soft, so warm, even better than he pictured them being. He felt her use her other hand to let his balls free, and had to lean back against his desk a bit as she fondled them. He was embarrassed to admit it, but the last time a woman had been so good to him was...a while ago. He was already excited, not just from what she was doing, but how she looked doing it. Her cute hair in twintails, the window of her shirt showing just a bit of cleavage. She pulled away to take off her shirt, and holy shit.

They were immaculate. So small, so absolutely perky, like they were excited to see him. He loved small tits, and hers were just fucking right. She put his cock right in between her tits, and pushed them together as she started to move them up and down. And to his surprise, she was moaning as she did so, as if this was doing something for her.

"You're so much bigger than any of my boyfriends. So...thick."

He thought she was going to be sassy and reluctant about this the whole way through, but holy shit, she was getting horny over watching his cock slide in between her little tits. He watched in fascination as she continued, occasionally leaving his tip a drool covered kiss with her little mouth. He acted without warning, grabbing a hold of her twin tails, and pulling her into him. He got a good chunk of his cock past her lips, making her gag in surprise. He pulled out as quickly as he went in, despite his cock's objections, wanting to see if he hurt the startled looking girl.

"Mierda, sorry, was that too-"

"Do it again~"

Her eyes were no longer sharp with snark. They were hazy in an odd sense of lust that he had never seen from her. And boy, did it make him absolutely throb for her.

"Alright. You like a rough lesson, I'll give you a rough lesson."

So, change of plans from the tit fucking. Now, he was focused on yanking on those pretty twin tails like they were horse reins, forcing her back and forth to take his cock. She gagged loudly everytime, and stuck her tongue out everytime he pulled away. Holy shit, she liked to be gagged by his big, black cock. He had to be dreaming.

"That's what you needed-a dick in your mouth to keep you from fucking talking during my class. You're always talking and chewing that fucking gum- let me put something else in that little mouth."

He coiled the hair around his hands, and YANKED her. He pulled her hard, and held her as his cock came in her tight little throat, balls seizing and relaxing against her little chin. It was the hardest he came in a while, and it was enough to make him growl like a fucking bear as he did so. He felt her throat swallow his load, and ever so slowly pulled away, watching as a line of cum dribbled down her tits. He let go of her hair as she got up, grinning as she wiped cum from her lips. He thought it was over.

He thought wrong.

He watched as she reached under her skirt, and pulled off her panties, throwing it at him. Then, like something out of his fantasies, she swung one leg over the desk, hiking her skirt up to reveal her wet little cunt, littered with a mane of red pubic hair.

"Fuck me."

He wanted to. Holy shit he wanted to. But throat fucking was one thing, this was her pussy. Her tight, soaking on his desk and under a pretty little skirt, pussy.

"I...shouldn't."

"You should. And now. It's so empty and lonely~"

He wasted to pounce on her as she used her fingers to stretch her lips, showing the red, eager insides of her pussy. He wanted to, he was already feeling ready to go again, but post nut clarity granted him a moment of common sense.

"I shouldn't."

Yeah, that was all he had. Pepa reached over to grab his tie, and with surprising strength, yanked him towards her, his cock pressed up against her cute little ass.

"Hey, you wanted me to try for my grade, right? Well here I am, trying so hard~"

He wanted to swat her hand away as she reached over to grab his cock. He wanted to tell her that this was a mistake, but then she pushed himself in. It was just the tip, but it was all he needed. He held onto the desk, slowly pushing more and more into her. She squirmed a bit, her red cheeks matching the damn near sweaty temperature of the room.

"Oh...fuck, you're so tight."

"And you're stretching m-me, holy fuck!"

She was losing it just as much as he was. He pushed himself in fully, and upon seeing that she could handle it, went absolutely shit. He put one leg over his shoulder, and started to buck into her soaked sex. He should've been gentle, but he couldn't be, not when he's getting everything he's ever wanted.

"Holy fuck, holy FUCK, I'm fucking your little cunt, Pepa. Oh my god I'm fucking you raw, you feel SO fucking good!"

She was yelping and crying out with every thrust, absolutely drowning in her own pleasure. She had one hand holding her leg, and the other had it's nails digging into the wood of his desk.

"H-harder Señor, please-"

"It's PAPI."

He brought an open palm right across her ass, making just the LOUDEST slap sound. She cried out in delight, and he swore her tongue hung out from her pretty lips like a starved bitch.

"P-papi! Do that again, more, please!"

He obeyed. He spanked her again, and again, making her both jump, and cry out in absolute delight. She was liking this. Liking getting spanked and fucked by her teacher so much, it made her cum. She screamed like a damn banshee for him, and it was absolute music to his ears. He was punishing Pepa properly, and she looked absolutely delighted as fluid gushed from between them and onto his desk. It was so much, he could hardly stand it.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I just n-need to pull out-"

"No, please, inside, I need to feel it!"

He wanted to argue with her, but he didn't. Instead, he railed her through his orgasm, and tried not to pass out as this second orgasm painted her inner walls, before slowly seeping out of her and onto the desk. It felt so fucking good, it was everything he wanted, but at what cost? The clarity kicked in, and he pulled out, watching as the cum came out of her gaping pussy. Oh no. Oh no, he came inside a student. And he LIKED it! And he REALLY wanted to take her home and do it again, SO badly.

"Oh no. Oh no, I didn't use protection. I just fucked you raw, oh no."

He was in the middle of panicking a bit as she sat up on his desk, looking absolutely satisfied. She wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him. He held onto her as his mind sank further into the lustful daze in order to let the sound of his wet tongue on hers, and getting only more aroused. His hands drifted up her flat stomach, to cup her little tits, rubbing the little nipples with his thumbs. Her hands wandered his frame, before suddenly pulling away, with a smirk on her face.

"There we go!"

"How did you-"

That little sneak had gone and taken his cellphone. She grinned as she typed quickly, before handing it back to him.

"All done."

"What did you do?"

"Put my phone number in it. You know, so I can earn some of that extra credit~"

She leaned up to nip at his ear, before getting off his desk, and fixing herself up. It took only a second before she looked totally proper, as if nothing happened. She grabbed her bag, and blew him a kiss as she started to leave.

"Don't forget, A-, papi~"

She left. He cleaned up, packed his things, and left probably a half an hour later. He drove home, stopping by to get Chinese food for dinner. He preferred cooking, but his mind was...elsewhere tonight. He walked inside his building, locked the door behind him, and sat in front of the tv as he opened up his food. He opened up his phone to delete her contact. Once was too much, he couldn't be tempted by her again. Only, he had a text message.

From Pepa.

He opened it, and there she was, in her bed. She squeezed her tits together for the camera, and made a kissy face for the photo. He knew then and there that, unfortunately, he was not done.

Not by a long shot.

[shadowqueen402]

Prim And Proper Origins: Part 2

Prologue is here:

Part 1 is here:

For the past eight years, twelve-year-old Primrose had been rather meticulous with her little scheme. At home, she would behave extremely well, treat her parents and brother with respect, and do really good in school. This included treating the other students and teachers with kindness and hospitality.

Of course, this did not mean that she actually cared. While her parents, brother, and the others may have assumed that she changed her ways, in reality, Primrose couldn't care less about them. She only saw them as nothing more than pawns that could help her get whatever she wanted.

What amused Primrose was the fact that they weren't suspecting a thing. They just carried on with their lives, believing that she actually changed. To make it more convincing to people like her brother, Primrose had to do a lot of things that she would never do..

First, she practiced how to play the flute. Though she was fluent in English and French, she had also started studying Spanish in her free time. She worked hard in school and managed to get all A's in every single class she took, especially the ones that she would normally flunk in.

To top it off, she had even joined ballet class. Sometimes, Primrose would bring 'friends' over from school and pretend to be interested in the gossip that they would tell her. With all that had happened, Primrose was able to fool everyone while, at the same time, either wear expensive designer clothing or flaunt her new purse that her father gave her.

Of course, Primrose had known that someone would get suspicious. And that someone was none other than her brother, Vladimir.

Vladimir had been secretly wondering how Primrose was able actually to get straight A's. It wasn't that he was jealous, but the fourteen-year-old had recently been finding himself being compared to Primrose. And he didn't like that one bit. Everytime he came back with a report card that had A's and B's, these would his parents' replies:

"Seriously, Vladimir? B's? Primrose managed to get A's in this subject and she isn't in high school yet! We need to get you a tutor!"

"Why can't you be like Primrose; smart, well-educated, and passionate about learning something new? You'll never be successful if you don't work hard enough!"

Vladimir couldn't take it anymore. Maybe, Primrose could help him bring up his grades so he could stop being compared to her anymore.

He walked to the door to Primrose's room. Then, he opened it up and walked into the elegant and fancy pink bedroom that belonged to his sister.

Primrose, who was sitting on her desk, looked up from her book and glared at her brother. "What do you want?" She asked in an aggravated tone.

"Whoa, calm down," Vladimir replied, furrowing his brows. "I didn't come here to take anything of yours. Rather, I came to ask if you could help me."

"Why would I help you?" Primrose asked.

"To bring my grades up." Vladimir crossed his arms. "Apparently, our parents are getting onto me about my grades. So since you got all A's, I'd figured that—" His eyes cut off when he saw a bunch of papers on the floor. He picked them up and widened his eyes.

"Answer sheets!?" Vladimir exclaimed. "You were cheating on every single test!? Wait until Mama and Papa find out!"

"Give those back!" Primrose yelled, but Vladimir held them up to prevent her from taking them.

"No! They need to know the truth!" Vladimir said, glaring at his sister. "They need to know the truth, Prim! If they found out you were lying to them, you would be in so much trouble! Either you tell them or I will!"

Primrose had a look that was a mixture of shock and anger. She wasn't going to let Vladimir get away with this. An idea came into her head. With a smirk plastered on her lips, Primrose took a fist and hit herself in the face.

"What are you doing!?" Vladimir demanded.

"Mama! Papa!" Primrose cried out with crocodile tears. "Vladimir hit me!"

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps came rushing to the door. Mr. Gaillot opened the door with such force that it caused the two siblings to jump.

"What is going on!?" Their father demanded, glaring. "My wife and I were on our way to her spa treatment and you two had to do something that would make us late!"

"Primrose had been cheating on her tests!" Vladimir yelled before Primrose could say anything. "I came to her room to ask if she could help me bring my grades up with tutoring and I found these!" He showed his parents the answer sheets.

"And so you hit her!?" Mrs. Gaillot growled, glaring at her son and placing her hands on her hips.

"Yes, he did!" Primrose shouted.

"No, I did not!" Vladimir yelled. "She's just manipulating you in order to get what she wants! And it doesn't help that you two obviously believe her more than me!"

"ENOUGH, THE BOTH OF YOU!" Mrs. Gaillot shouted. "You both are grounded! It's quite obvious that you two cannot seem to get along with each other!"

"How am I grounded!?" Primrose demanded. "Vladimir hit me!!"

"Don't back talk to your mother, young lady!" Mr. Gaillot snarled at Primrose. "This is what is going to happen from now on. Vladimir, I'm sending you to London! The Boarding Academy for Boys will straighten you out and hopefully teach you how to get along better with family!"

"Papa, you can't be serious!" Vladimir protested.

"My decision has been made!" Mr. Gaillot replied. "Now get packing, young man!"

"As for you, Primrose, you won't be going to that high school that you wanted to go to!" Mrs. Gaillot said. "After your father drops your brother off, we will be moving to Scotland! Your father and I will also decide what high school you'll be going to!"

"What!? That's not fair!" Primrose yelled. "You can't do this to me, Mama! Don't I get a say into something?"

"Absolutely not!" Mrs. Gaillot barked. "Now, get to bed!!"

The next day, the family were now in front of a large building where teenaged boys were attending. Vladimir gripped his suitcase, glaring harshly at the school.

"We'll see you soon, Vladimir," Mrs. Gaillot said. "Write to us, whenever you can."

Vladimir didn't say anything to his parents or Primrose. Rather, he just walked up to the building without so much as saying goodbye to his family.

With a disheartened look on her face, Mrs. Gaillot turned around to leave with her husband and daughter. And they started to drive back to France.

"Mama, don't you and Papa have workplaces in Scotland?" Primrose asked in an attempt to make the silence not awkward.

"We do," Mrs. Gaillot said with such pride in her tone. "I have two perfume shops there. Your father, on the other hand, owns five jewelry shops there as well! One of my shops and one of your father's shops is located in Edinburgh, which is the city that we will move to. I expect you to actually be on your perfect behavior when you get to this high school, young lady."

"Yes, Mama." Primrose gazed out the window. But a smirk appeared on her face. Since she would be living in Edinburgh soon, she couldn't help but wonder what experiences she will face in life. But as long as she had wealth and looks, she can still get what she wanted, right?

I don't own Madame Prim and her family.

[lord-of-dragons-2007]

(Reefside 2004)

"Ah ha! I found it." Haley exclaimed as she found what she was looking for,

"Let's see; Kim, Jason, Rocky, . . .Here it is Billy Cranston." Hayley said as she was scanning Dr. O's little black book that held numbers for past rangers; Hayley went over to the phone and dialed the number in the book,

"Hello?" came the voice on the other end of the phone,

"Hi, you may not know who I am but we share a mutual friend and he is in colorful trouble and I need your help." Hayley quickly explained in a cryptic way,

"Hmm, I understand . . . you can fill me in when I get there, where are you?" Billy asked,

"I'm at Tommy's house in Reefside." Hayley answered,

"I'm in Angel Grove, I'll be there in about three hours." Billy explained,

"Ok, I'll hold down the fort while you get here. Is there anyone else I should call?" Hayley asked,

"If you can, Kimberly Hart is in Reefside; she would want to know." Billy instructed,

"Ummm, she's kinda involved with is mess too." Hayley explained,

"Hmmm, I see. Right off hand I don't know who else could help us right now, just hold things together till I get there." Billy said,

"Will do and thanks." Hayley replied,

"Anytime, see you soon. Bye." Billy said as he hung up the phone,

"Bye" Hayley said as she hung up the phone.

"Man I hope that Mesogog doesn't attack while the team is away." Hayley thought to herself, as she made her way back down to the ranger command center to try locate where the ranger team had gone.

(Angel Grove 1993)

The dino-thunder teens had been wondering around Angel Gove for quite a while now, a few hours had passed since they made the discovery of landing in the past. Not just any past but their teacher and mentor's past,

"Well makeshift compass boy where do we go now?" asked Conner,

"Conner give it a break we're in town, its not like I know my way around Dr. O's hometown." Trent defended as the teens made their way to what was presumed as the famous youth center that Dr. O had always talked about,

"Hey guys isn't this the youth center that Dr. O was always talking about?" Ethan asked,

"Lets go inside and get something to drink, I'm dying for a smoothie." Kira suggested to the four teens standing around,

"Ok let's do it." Conner said as the four teens started to head inside the building when suddenly their bodies turned into their respective colors and where zapped out of the area.

(Angel Grove 1993)

Tommy, seeing as his adult mind was in his teenage body thought it was better to go to school first and ask questions later when he was free to do with whatever he saw fit,

"Man, what am I going to do? I mean sure Hayley knows what happened, but can she really help us out of this one?" Tommy thought as he slowly walked off to school,

"Hmm, November 18, 1993; why does it seem so important? I mean of all days I could have traveled back why this one?" Tommy wondered as he started to think back to what the meaning of this particular day, but before he knew it he was already at school,

"Oh well, if the events of the past continue as they have then meaning of this day will reveal itself in due time." Tommy thought as he entered the front doors of his old high school.

Kim was much on the same train of thought as she walked to school,

"Well if experience has taught me one thing on this matter its this: just go with it till someone back home finds a way to get me back." Kim thought as she walked,

"Uhh, I cant believe how fashioned challenged I was at this age." Kim shuddered as she looked down at what she had picked out for the day,

"Well the good thing about time travel is that whatever happens in past stays in the past." Kim thought trying to comfort herself,

"For now I just have to hold it together and act like my teenage self." Kim thought as she put her worried mind at rest to try and muster up an act to convince everyone of her past that nothing is out of the ordinary as she walked through the front doors of her old high school.

(Ranger Command Center 1993)

Immediately, four teens landed and fell to the floor in a darkened room that was surrounded by computer consoles all monitored by a little robot,

"Ooof!" all four teens called out as they hit the floor with surprise,

"Ay yi yi yi yi yi!" Alpha 5 cried out it distress as he saw how the rangers landed and scrambled to try and help them up. As the four teens slowly got up from the floor they were in awe in what they saw around them,

"GREETINGS HUMANS, I AM ZORDON AN INTERGALACTIC BEING TRAPPED IN A TIME WARP." Zordon said as his head was zapped into the energy tube,

"PLEASE DO NOT BE AFRAID; YOUR POWER SIGNITURES ARE NO DIFFERENT THAN THAT OF THE RANGERS THAT I KNOW FROM THIS TIME. TELL ME WHO ARE YOU; WHERE ARE YOU FROM." Zordon asked as the four teens looked between Alpha 5 and Zordon in confusion; not really sure if what they saw was true or a dream, but they decided to go with it anyway,

"My name is Conner McKnight and I'm the red dino-thunder ranger." Conner answered,

"My name is Kira Ford and I'm the yellow dino-thunder ranger." Kira answered,

"My name is Ethan James and I'm the blue dino-thunder ranger." Ethan answered,

"And my name is Trent Fernandez and I'm the white dino-thunder ranger." Trent answered,

"And we're from a city called Reefside in the year 2004" Conner finished,

"Is this all of your team? its only the four of you." Alpha spoke up,

"There are six of us, the fifth member of our team, Dr. Oliver is our black ranger; and the other Hayley, is not a ranger but our tech advisor." Conner answered, Zordon was silent but obviously contemplative to the explanation the rangers were giving,

"HMMM, THIS DR. OLIVER; COULD HIS FULL NAME BE DR. THOMAS OLIVER?" Zordon asked,

"Yeah how did you know? And " Kira asked,

"BECAUSE YOUNG KIRA, IN THIS TIME PERIOD WE KNOW YOUR DR. OLIVER AS TOMMY OLIVER." Zordon explained,

"RANGERS IF I COULD TROUBLE YOU, YOUR PRESENSE HERE INTREGES ME; COULD YOU TELL ME HOW YOU CAME HERE TO BE?" Zordon asked, the four rangers recounted the events of the past few days. Everything from the premonition dreams to being teleported to the command center,

"HMMM, I HAVE BUT ONE MORE QUESTION FOR YOU RANGERS." Zordon said,

"What is it?" Ethan asked,

"WHERE ARE THE DR. OLIVER AND KIMBERLY HART FROM YOUR TIME PERIOD? IT IS IMPAREITIVE THAT WE LOCATE THEM." Zordon asked,

"We don't know, like we said when we came to they where no where to be found. Why?" Trent explained,

"BECAUSE TRENT, IF THE TWO TOMMYS OR KIMBERLYS MEET, THE EVENT COULD CREATE A CHAIN OF EVENTS THAT COULD UNRAVEL THE FABERIC OF TIME AND SPACE AND DESTROY THE UNIVERSE AS WE KNOW IT." Zordon explained,

"Ay yi yi yi yi yi! What are we going to do Zordon?" Alpha 5 cried out it distress, as the four teens looked at Zordon with utter fear in their eyes,

"CALM DOWN ALPHA, FIRST YOU NEED TO SCAN ANGEL GROVE AND THE ADJACENT AREAS FOR A POWER SIGNITURE SIMILAR TO THAT OF THE DINO-THUNDER RANGERS THAT WE HAVE HERE." Zordon explained,

"Yes Zordon I'm on it." Alpha 5 said as he began typing away at the computer consoles,

"AS FOR YOU RANGERS, I NEED YOU TO STAY HERE FOR NOW; WE CANT RISK YOU ALTERING FUTURE EVENTS ANYMORE THAN YOU HAVE ALREADY." Zordon ordered,

"ok, but is there anything we can do?" asked Conner,

"FOR NOW RANGERS, I'M AFRAID NOT; THERE IS A BUNKER DOWN THE HALL AND DOWN THE STAIRS, THERE IS A TELEVISION AND SOME PRIVISIONS THERE." Zordon said,

"so you want us to just sit around watching tv in hopes that we can go back to our time?" Ethan asked sounding a little agitated,

"I SENSE THAT ALL OF YOU INDEED WANT TO DO SOMETHING MORE PRODUCTIVE WITH YOUR TIME HERE, BUT WE CANNOT RISK ALTERING THE FUTURE THAT YOU KNOW; I AM DEEPLY SORRY THAT IT MUST BE THIS WAY RANGERS, BUT FOR YOUR SAKE I NEED YOU TO REMAIN HERE UNTIL ME AND ALPHA CAN FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO IN THE MEAN TIME." Zordon explained,

"Ok, but you'll call us when you need us right?" asked Conner,

"You need'nt worry rangers, Zordon and I do not intend to keep you here indefinitely, just until a temporary solution can be had. For now rangers just take a breather from your ordeal." Alpha said as the robot ushered the teens out of the main chamber into the bunker where they could relax and not be found out by the current rangers if they needed to be in the command center.

After the four teens left Alpha continued scanning for Dr. O and Kim's signal,

"Tommy seems to have picked and mentored a nice bunch of kids." Alpha surmised,

"YES HE HAS, I COULD NOT BE MORE PROUD OF HIM AT THIS MOMENT ALPHA. TOMMY OLIVER I AM SURE HAS BECOME A FINE MAN." Zordon concluded,

"I've found the signals Zordon . . . ay yi yi yi yi yi!" Alpha said,

"WHAT IS IT ALPHA? DID YOU FIND THE TOMMY OLIVER AND KIMBERLY HART FROM THE FUTURE?" Zordon asked,

"Yes but the signals are on top of each other ay yi yi yi yi yi!" Alpha answered,

"ALPHA CALM DOWN BRING UP THE MEETING ON THE VIEWING GLOBE." Zordon instructed as the robot complied, what they saw next made the old wizard look shocked.

(Angel Grove High School 1993)

Tommy had done a good job not letting anyone on to the fact that his adult mind was in his teenage body, he had come close to showing his hand in his science class when he had breezed through the class knowing every single question the teacher asked. School was now over and he was heading to his locker to collect his things in preparation of being stuck like this for a while,

"Hey Tommy, how's it going bro?" a voice asked behind him, it was Jason Scot his best friend,

"Hey man, nothing much just getting ready to home for the day." Tommy answered,

"Are you feeling ok? You were acting strange in class today and from what I've been hearing from everyone else is that you've been acting strange all day. You wanna tell me what's up?" Jason pressed; Tommy looked down in defeat and decided to come clean with Jason to a certain extent,

"Listen, this is one of those times when I cant tell you the full story but I need you to trust me when I say that I'm ok. Can you just play it off like nothing ever happened." Tommy explained,

"Sure but you are going to tell me the full story some time right?" asked Jason,

"Yes but some day." Tommy explained,

"Look right now I have to go." Tommy said,

"Ok, you take care of yourself bro." Jason said,

"Always do bro, later." Tommy said and with that he walked away from his friend.

Meanwhile on the other side of the hall Kimberly was going through the same affair as she was trying to get her things and make her way home in case she had to stay in this time period for a while as well,

"Hey Kim, hey what did you think about math class today?" someone asked behind her; it was Trini Kwan,

"It was ok, kinda easy." Kim responded without thinking about her answer,

"Hmm, ok who are you and what have you done with Kim?" Trini asked as Kim looked down as she decided to come clean with her friend,

"Ok Trini look, something is going on and as much as I would love to tell you the whole story I just cant and you need to trust me on this when I say I cant tell you now and I need you to play it off like everything is fine." Kim explained,

"Well ok, but you will tell me about this right?" Trini said,

"Yeah don't worry but I cant tell you now." Kim said,

"Listen I gotta go, I'll see you around." Kim said and with that Kim left her friend in the hallway confused.

(Mysterious Island Lair 2004)

"Zeltrax begin your attack with that monster of yours, lets see how tough he really is." Mesogog commanded,

"At once my lord." Zeltrax responded as he bowed,

(Moon Palace 1993)

"Uhh, what happened?" Elsa asked as she slowly came to,

"Wait I remember now." Elsa said as the previous events came back to her,

"Oh damm, I was set up; damm you Zeltrax." Elsa cursed out,

"Ohh who's down there?" came a gruff voice as Elsa scrambled to find a place to hide for the time being until she figured out what to do next.

[odanurr87]

My thoughts on... Doctors

Yoon Kyung Sang as Jung Yoon Do, Park Shin Hye as Yoo Hye Jung, Kim Rae Won as Hong Ji Hong, and Lee Sung Kyung as Jin Seo Woo If I were to draw a line segment and place the medical kdramas I've watched to date on it, with the degree of over-the-top drama and lack of professionalism decreasing from left to right, I'd place Yong Pal all the way to the left, followed closely by Doctor Stranger, and Hospital Playlist all the way to the right, with Doctor John probably somewhere around the left of the midpoint (still haven't finished watching Angel Eyes). Much to my surprise, I think Doctors probably belongs somewhere to the right of the midpoint (but not too far) and I'll try to explain why that is, but first let's talk a little about the premise. Doctors aka Female Gangster Hye Jung (no, really, that’s another title for it) focuses, not surprisingly, on the transformative journey of Yoo Hye Jung from a smart, rebellious, and kickass teen who doesn't get along with her dad, has no friends and no dreams about a better future, to a driven and talented doctor who's well liked and respected by her colleagues, but who's held back by a tragic event from her past. Hong Ji Hong, as her home-room teacher at high school, is the one who sets her on her path to becoming a doctor, and later as her mentor/boyfriend also helps her move on. Yes, you read that right, her home-room teacher eventually becomes her lover. Personally, I don't think they handled the pacing of the teacher-student relationship very well. The first couple of episodes do not hint at any romantic feelings between these two but then along comes Episode 3 and suddenly they... kinda do? It all felt very rushed, especially her friendship with the second female lead, Jin Seo Woo (Bok Joo!), and the fallout between them, what prompts a bitter rivalry when they meet again working at the same hospital 13 years later.

She’s not called gangster for nothing

Subverting expectations or bland storytelling?

It is perhaps to be expected that Hye Jung has an agenda, tied to a possible case of medical malpractice that involves Seo Woo's father and the hospital's director, Jin Myung Hoon, played by Uhm Hyo Sub, known for playing the antagonist in several dramas (but I always remember him as the butler in Shopping King Louie). Curiously, while this plot thread is present throughout the show it isn't given the prominence one might expect, with the screenwriter (Ha Myung Hee) slowly developing it over the course of the show, always careful to keep the details of the event shrouded in mystery. Instead, the show chooses to give more prominence to the development of the relationship between Hye Jung and Ji Hong and to the medical cases that the doctors face, how they resolve them and how they often tie to their personal lives, but mostly Hye Jung's.

And here's where I got the largest positive impression of the show: the doctors don’t lose their composure in the OR, they act calmly and professionally. The one time this doesn't happen it is considered a serious breach and immediately addressed. This show doesn't feel the need to artificially create drama by having characters act irrationally, having doctors sabotage each other for the sake of their personal glory, or having patients die in the OR so that a doctor can be conveniently blamed and drama can be amped to eleven. In fact, I can't recall a single surgery that didn't go as planned. There were several times I'd go, "Aha, now this will happen so that event X and Y will follow!" and the show would answer with a resounding, "Nope." Perhaps many viewers will find this boring but I found it refreshingly different. And this is not to say there are no dramatic or tension-filled scenes, what sometimes make it lose points on a realism scale, but they're never overplayed.

Not sure I want to know what he means by that

Besides Seo Woo, whose rivalry with Hye Jung takes some time to resolve, the only other character who's initially distrustful of Hye Jung's ability and disapproves of her attitude is the second male lead and her senior, Jung Yoon Do. However, after a couple of instances where Hye Jung proves herself in his eyes he apologizes and never doubts her again. This becomes a turning point for our SML as he slowly starts falling for Hye Jung's charms and loosens up considerably, to the point I really liked him despite his unrequited love for Hye Jung. This is another plus for Doctors, as when he confesses his feelings to Hye Jung she wastes no time clearing the air replying, "I don't trust love between a man and a woman. But if I have to love, that one person will be Hong Ji Hong." That's that potential love triangle neatly resolved. Even when he later gives Ji Hong a heads up about his feelings for Hye Jung (Yoon Do is very straightforward and honest) the latter nonchalantly replies, "Good. Try your best." what leaves Yoon Do thinking he's already lost before he even had a chance to compete.

Ji Hong and Hye Jung: A mature relationship with little drama

Ji Hong is a charming, easygoing, glass half-full, kinda guy, who always looks out for his students and never holds a grudge. As he tells Hye Jung one episode, there are too many things he wants to do in his life to waste time mulling over negative things like revenge. If this were a fantasy cdrama, he'd probably be a Daoist (he'd certainly make a better Daoist than The Taoist Grandmaster). This may irk some viewers looking for a revenge-driven plot where the protagonists actively seek the downfall of some powerful figure/s with almost single-minded determination, like in Graceful Family (which I do recommend btw). The seeds are certainly there for Doctors to take that route but it chooses not to, what makes me think that perhaps they were planted because it is expected for this type of show to have that plot line and not because the screenwriter particularly wanted to, but this is pure speculation. While Ji Hong helps Hye Jung with her search for the truth he does so out of a desire she'll be able to close that painful chapter of her life and live more in the present, and he doesn't waste an opportunity to let her know she can be happy, as this dancing scene to The La's "There She Goes" proves.

This man makes it difficult not to fall in love with him As for Hye Jung, I think this is probably the better Park Shin Hye performance out of the dramas I've watched with her (no, I have not yet watched Pinocchio). She was cute as Go Mi Nam in You're Beautiful but I felt the show never let her grow out of that character and show us who she was as Go Mi Nyeo. Here I felt she was able to show more range and she looked comfortable with her male costar despite their age gap. Certainly, the two actors/characters seemed to have a lot more chemistry than that shown in her latest drama, Sisyphus: The Myth, between Kang Seo Hae and Han Tae Sul, and makes me wonder what a reunion with Kim Rae Won as Han Tae Sul would've looked like.

I still love you, Go Mi Nam.

Honestly, the only obstacle to their relationship is themselves, as they're both highly intelligent and independent people who've never been in a romantic relationship before and who usually try to solve problems by themselves rather than relying on others. This veers dangerously close to "noble idiocy" territory at times but doesn't outright cross into it, to my mind, or at least doubles back fairly quickly. For instance, in order to protect Hye Jung, Ji Hong makes a deal with a character one time that I won't spoil. When Hye Jung finds out about it she confronts him but Ji Hong defuses the situation by arguing he's "taking one step backwards and two steps forward" to ease tensions, that this is not as bad as she makes it out to be (glass half-full kinda guy), and that he's actively looking for a way to revert this. When I took my time to ponder his argument I had to concede it was fairly reasonable. Like I said, Ji Hong is surprisingly mature about handling relationships and conflicts, something that was unexpected. Another time the two have a conversation where Hye Jung points out how he's always trying to protect and comfort her but that this is not reciprocal, that she also wants to protect and comfort him but he won't let her, finally asking him to change if he wants to make their relationship work. While she definitely had a point I was a little irked about the conclusion, which came across as rather one-sided. Quite surprisingly, it didn't take long for Hye Jung to acknowledge she was wrong to corner him into changing when she was also asking him to love her for who she was, a confession that leads into this beautifully awkward scene where Hye Jung tries to make the first move and Ji Hong doesn't know quite what to make of it.

When you try to give him the green light and he doesn't get the memo Their relationship isn't perfect (what relationship is?), there are bumps on the road, and they alternate between being lovers, teacher and student, and colleagues, throughout the show and depending on the situation, and sometimes their inability to recognise what role they should be playing (the characters, not the actors) causes some tension or friction between them that usually gets resolved by, shockingly, having a conversation like normal adults. Maybe these are the moments that some reviewers had trouble believing, as they sometimes appear to be dissecting the ins and outs of their relationship with clinical precision. They are neurosurgeons after all.

Of second-lead relationships, The Beagles, and music

I've praised the main leads and the second male lead, but what about the second female lead? Seo Woo's growth is very slow and a large part of it occurs when a conflict that personally involves her arises towards the end of the show. Seo Woo is initially jealous that Hye Jung has managed to become so successful in life and doesn't take kindly to Yoon Do falling for her rival. She has insecurity issues tied to her parents' expectations of her and Hye Jung "taking things away from her" (she also had a crush on Ji Hong in high school) that should've been better fleshed out in the initial episodes of the show. Surprisingly, what seems to be a trend with this show, the second leads don't end up together and, in fact, Seo Woo ends up in a relationship with fellow doctor Pi Yeong Kook, the one friend who's always there for her no matter what. Eventually, Seo Woo is also able to let go of the past, daring to stand up for Hye Jung and call her a friend, and overcomes, if not her parents' expectations, certainly their narrow-mindedness and greed, not to mention her own ego.

I guess this qualifies as subverting expectations? There is also quite a bit of comedy too, in no small part thanks to "The Beagles," Jung Pa Ran (played by Lee Sun Ho), Yoon Do's uncle, and Jo In Joo (played by Yoo Da In), both of which are Ji Hong's closest friends, who have a great friendship and a running gag of annoying the heck out of Yoon Do by constantly staying at his place. There's one episode where even Seo Woo joins the beagles and Yoon Do is like, "I give up. Live happily among the three of you." and finds himself temporarily exiled to Ji Hong's apartment, much to the latter's surprise.

The Beagles adopt a new member Music-wise, I wasn't particularly impressed by the songs, as the one that made the most lasting impression was The La's "There She Goes." The score itself was composed by Park Se Jun, who previously collaborated with the show's director, Oh Choong Hwan, on shows like Start-Up and While You Were Sleeping, but perhaps this shouldn't be surprising as Park Se Jun's name pops up everywhere. The score itself is actually not half bad but it wasn't particularly memorable, save for a few exceptions. The first one is the fact that Doom at Your Service's "Destiny to Love" is used regularly throughout the show, what surprised me seeing as it's a track from a 2021 drama playing on a 2016 show (they really should've used it when Ji Hong steps out of the helicopter). The other is the track "Goodbye My Fellow" which, for the life of me, sounds like something lifted straight from another 2016 show I recently watched, Marriage Contract. I could swear they're playing the same, or mostly the same, music as in either "Beautiful Memories" and/or "Beautiful Days" but to different notes, speed, or something. The second I listened to that music playing in Doctors I instantly thought of Marriage Contract. Initially, I thought maybe they were simply reusing the score from one of their shows but Marriage Contract is from MBC and Doctors is from SBS so I'm not really sure what's going on here.

Marriage Contract. Probably the best contractual relationship kdrama there is. Watch it.

Conclusions

All in all, Doctors was a surprisingly pleasant watch throughout and I didn't find it boring despite its 20-episode order, what usually makes me suspicious of the quality of the show. Some reviewers have argued the ending feels rushed and while I disagree I have to concede certain plot lines are purposefully left unresolved. In short, if you want to see the antagonists killed or in shackles, then this is not the drama for you. It's not that there are no consequences for their actions, there are, but we don't get to see the full extent of them. Following Ji Hong's life philosophy we only get to see the positive outcomes, not the negative ones.

In the end, I think I can confidently say Doctors succeeded in subverting my trope-oriented expectations, what I consider to be a positive. It’s no Hospital Playlist (that’s a high bar) but it’s certainly a lot better than some of the other medical dramas I’ve watched. Of course, perhaps my baseline isn’t diverse enough, with medical dramas like New Heart, Good Doctor, D-Day, and Dr. Romantic still on my watchlist. What about you? Have you watched Doctors? Where would you place it on your own medical kdrama line segment?

[ut-girl666]

Heyyy it’s the anon again! I’m back with more questions :3

Can we know a bit about the OCs listed under Prime partners?

And also, if any of your Rescue Bots OCs have met High Tide, Quickshadow, Blurr, and Salvage, what do they think of them?

Hey! So sorry for such a late response to this! I had a reply in the works, but Tumblr ate it, so I’m gonna type it out again.

To start with the RBs;

There’s a possibility the OCs have met High Tide in passing. But I can certainly tell you, immediately off the bat, since I’ve heard that he goes full drill sergeant on the RB’s asses, Mintracer would not be fond in the slightest. Who does this mech think he is, bossing around his adoptive son, and second-creation? Oh yeah, and his son-in-law, too, but more focus on his precious Chase. >:(. The others, it depends, haven’t decided yet.

Blurr and Salvage, it also kinda depends, and I’d say they’re probably some of Blades’s classmates from the academy, given behavior, from what I’ve heard. Most likely, they may have met Blaze as classmates, and Mintracer as one of their teachers, but the others, who knows.

Quickshadow, yes, Mintracer, Flare, & Ember have certainly met her. Mintracer is neutral, but also not quite fond of her. Her history with Chase and Heatwave is… interesting. Flare and Ember wanted her to be something of a love interest to him; didn’t work. Heatwave doesn’t swing that way, and was already with Chase. Chase and Quickshadow just didn’t really… ‘work’, as anything more than classmates, if you feel? Quite possibly she was one of the students who barely held onto a C in his class, after pretty much the whole school base bombed that final essay; might’ve gone at Chase a little after, too, claiming favoritism in some form, since he was the only one got higher than a B-. Haven’t quite decided, but Mintracer wouldn’t be fond of this particular former student, and Flare and Ember have probably forgotten about her.

—

Now, on the Prime Partners; for context, this is to say partner more means ‘romantic’ partner, since that’s the relationship they each had with their respective partners. So, Elita would also be classified as one, and later on, Thunderclash as well. And further, in AU Canon Divergence, context: Solus is a TransMasc/FtM using He/Him pronouns and from a former sister planet known as Femmax, Amalgamous was the original Decepticon Leader way back when long before any of the main bunch were thought of, and Zeta is a separate person from Sentinel. So in order, from first to last so far;

Luma

Luma is Solus’s partner. She was a moon/night themed femme, that Sola met at some point when the two took a trip from Femmax to Cybertron, and the two became fast friends, and developed some feelings. Luma was quite possibly the most supportive person of Sola’s feelings regarding their gender, and was happy to adapt to new pronouns and a new name for them. They held quite a lot of trust between them, and lived together on Cybertron post-transition, in a relationship. Solus was adamant that he wanted Luma with him in the afterlife, so they both reside in the Hall of Primes, which started the trend.

Wintegreen

Wintegreen was Amalgamous’s conjux. They had a cross faction relationship, originally, since Amalgamous was a Decepticon - the Leader of that revolution, in fact! (Also the very proud holder of the title as The First/Original Autobot Fucker/Crossfaction Relationship Engagee) - and Wintegreen was some little nobody Autobot foot soldier. After lots of stress from the Autobots, and seducing and serenading from Amal, they decided they were done being an Autobot, and became a Decepticon, sitting on the throne with Amal. They ended up with two creations; the first one named ‘Thirteen’. They passed when the Autobots managed to unexpectedly siege the base, post-war/in the middle of Alchemist’s Reign. The four rest together, though their creations didn’t follow into the Hall with them, thought to have reincarnated.

Lilacwing

Lilacwing was Zeta’s… well, it’s complicated, but not to say they’re not in love! They just don’t know what to call it, because they weren’t necessarily official, but certainly accompanied and interacted with each other a whole lot more than just the Prime and Air Commander who happened to be ‘friends’. But they did have more than their fair share of nights on the couch with some shitty romance show going as background noise. Unfortunately in normal AU, they did pass, killed at some point though only Lilac recalls who, making way for Sentinel to be picked by the council.

However, in the ‘Line of Primacy AU’, they didn’t pass, but Zeta was forced to abstain a while, due to a situation popping up, and forced to give up the ‘pop up’ in his chamber, so they lived in his place, and after Sentinel fell, they came back into reign. After a while, eventually they found the little one they’d been forced to give up, and brought him home, with the little friend he was with, since they’d been left without anyone else to go to. Therefore creating the lineage, of Zeta and Optimus. And they ended up adopting Megs, and they love their silver swan, even if he does tend to forget they’re his adoptive parents every time he visits Iacon. No, Lilacwing did not carry Op. ;)

So that’s them. I’ll probably make some more regarding the LoP!AU at some point, and such, but there we are! And again, super sorry about the delay. The original answer got erased, and then it was an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ thing, and I just got around to retrying answering. Hope this answers, dear Anon!

[emilyoracle]

Your English teachers lied to you.

Thought I'd post my old writing advice guides onto this blog since I deleted my old one. I hope it's helpful!

::

Listen. I respect the hell out of teachers. The vast majority of them work crazy hard and most of the time, including the times they give you well-meaning ‘writing rules,’ only want to instill good and helpful habits into you.

That doesn’t change the fact that many of these rules are stupid.

Here are my top five ‘writing rule’ pet peeves, and five rules that should be followed.

✗ Don’t write ‘said.’

Okay, I know this is common knowledge by now, but it’s so important. The concept that you can never write ‘ so-and-so said’ is hurting novice writers’ narratives. Said is invisible. Said is powerful. Said is transformable. If every quote ends in a strong synonym, it is distracting. Sometimes, in an established repartee, quotes don’t need to be tagged at all. Or an adverb following ‘said’ might be better for the narrative than any single verb.

Eg. // “I hate the rain,” grumbled David.

“I love it,” Claire announced.

“You love everything,” he muttered.

“Including you!” she giggled.

versus.

“I hate the rain,” grumbled David.

“I love it,” said Claire.

“You love everything,” he said impatiently.

“Including you!”

✓ Don’t write ‘something.’

Cold hard truth, baby. ‘Something’ is a draft word. It’s what you write when you want to think of a replacement. I cringe when I see it in a sentence that would have been improved tenfold by a specific noun or descriptive phrase in its place. There are times when ‘something’ works or is the only option, but experiment by replacing that word with more description before deciding it’s necessary to keep.

Eg. // He pulled something shiny from his pocket. She craned her neck to see what it was. A metal flask. versus. A flash of light caught the metal he pulled from his pocket. She craned her neck to see what it was. A drinking flask.

-

✗ Avoid adverbs.

This is true and false, but I’ll address the false part first. The concept that you can’t use adverbs at all is ridiculous. Don’t blindly (!) replace every adverb in your prose with a single verb because someone said you should. You want whatever you are writing to flow well and to deliver the best impact or imagery. Sometimes that means adverbs. Or you might want the verb to be discreet (such as when using ‘said’) but still want to invoke emotion. That also means adverbs.

Eg. // "Don't do that!" she spluttered, panicked by the urgency of the situation. versus. "Don't do that!" she said frantically, panicked by the urgency of the situation.

✓ Use strong verbs. At least consider them.

Verbs make the world go ‘round, people. Most of the time, a strong verb will make your writing flow well and deliver the best impact or imagery. Weigh a strong verb against an adverb + weaker verb and decide the one you want to keep in a scene. Don’t just stick with whichever you wrote first because you grew attached to the sentence.

Eg. // She held up her blood-slicked sword proudly, her other fist raised triumphantly. versus. She thrust her blood-slicked sword into the air, her other fist clenched high in triumph.

-

✗ Don’t use a thesaurus.

I. HATE. This rule. I had an English teacher in middle school who marked any words she thought you had looked up as wrong. As a young reader with a large vocabulary, I was always needing to prove that I hadn’t just picked a random synonym from a thesaurus, that I knew and deliberately chose those words. (That sentence has a great example of a necessary adverb! Get BENT Mrs E. (She also hated adverbs.)) This is the same idiotic concept as telling artists not to use reference images. Use a thesaurus if a certain word is failing you or you hate every word you’ve come up with yourself. There’s nothing bad or shameful about it.

Eg. // There are no examples for this. I’m not sure how I would even do that. Insert stock photo of someone perusing a thesaurus here?

✓ Don’t use words you aren’t comfortable with.

Now, when you search the great wide web for a synonym to a word and then choose whichever one sounds nice because hey, the internet said it was interchangeable, so it must be! … Yeah. Don’t do that.

I use a thesaurus to find words that I can’t think of in the moment but they are always ones I still know. Every word has a subtle (or not so subtle) connotation that you need familiarity with before deciding it is the perfect replacement. Know your words before you start playing Mix n Match.

Eg. // Amusement in the profession puts transcendence in the performance. (Utter nonsense, written by me and thesaurus.com) versus. Pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work. (Inspiring quote, written by Aristotle)

-

✗ Don’t end sentences with a preposition.

Whoever made up this rule is an elitist hack. (I just googled it, and supposedly it began with a bunch of 17th century scholars who thought English should have Latin’s grammar, so. Yeah. Elitist hacks.) Ending sentences in prepositions sounds wayyyyy more natural than the alternative. If you don’t want to sound stilted, beat this rule into the dirt.

Eg. // They didn’t know of what she was capable. versus. They didn’t know what she was capable of.

✓ Be conscientious of your sentence construction.

A lot of grammar rules are bogus. Not ending a sentence with a preposition, not starting a sentence with a conjunction, not laying face down on the floor and screeching… Oh, right, that latter one isn’t a rule, it’s just what you want to do when you have to think about grammar.

But, regardless of bogus grammar rules, you need to put thought into your sentence construction. Editing (not writing) is the best time to do this. That’s when you can make sure the words flow together naturally as an individual sentence, as part of a paragraph, and within the chapter as a whole.

Another common construction faux pas that I see is disregarding the sequence of events because you believe it will have greater impact. In reality, if you avoid putting your narration out of order, it usually results in stronger sentences.

Eg. // "Tell me it's not true!" He stood in the doorway after bursting into Kyle's room, panting from his sprint up the stairs. versus. He sprinted up the stairs two at a time and burst into Kyle's room without knocking. "Tell me it's not true!" he demanded breathlessly.

-

✗ If you break writing rules you’re a bad writer.

If anyone tries to convince you of this, kick them in the neck. (You heard it here folks, kick your DANG TEACHERS IN THE NECK.) (Not really, please don’t.) (If you do, though, don’t say that I encouraged it.) (I’m not encouraging it, I just want to make that clear. Please be nice to your teachers, they have hard jobs.)

Rules were made to be broken. You just need to know the rules in the first place in order to decide to break them, so it’s never a bad thing to educate yourself on general writing advice. Still, there is a fine line between creative liberty and bad writing, and sometimes a famous book or author turns the latter into the former. Know your stuff, but don’t be afraid to throw your stuff into the fire and watch it burn. (Figuratively. Don’t literally throw your possessions into fire, that’s irresponsible on so many levels.) (A lot of parentheses in this rule rant.) (Now that’s just bad writing.)

✓ Take writing rules and advice with a grain of salt, but don’t ignore them.

As a novice writer, or even an experienced one, it is hard to differentiate between which rules work best in your own prose. You may only realize it in hindsight. That doesn’t mean you should ignore every piece of writing advice or dismiss criticism of your work. Think critically about your own style, read books you enjoy and think about their styles, and deliberate– don’t dismiss. Maybe your writing style requires no dangling prepositions or never using an adverb. That’s your decision to make. Just… don’t make it because you’re too stubborn to see how you can improve.

-

That’s all I’ve got! Do you have any pet peeves about common writing advice? Feel free to reblog and add your own!

Don’t forget to write a sentence of your story today! Thanks for reading~

[edwardskhakipants]

Forks, Washington. August 2004.

Esme and Carlisle stood in the middle of their grand living room, waiting for their five vampire children to arrive. Alice arrived first—prompt as usual. She settled herself gracefully onto the tufted sofa Esme had recently acquired, only to be immediately jostled by Emmett who heaved himself onto the cushions. A breath caught in Esme’s throat—she had lost many pieces from her beloved collection by that action—but it looked like this one was still in one piece. For the moment. Jasper took Edward’s normal spot in the only armchair, forcing Edward to wedge himself between Alice and Emmett.

“What?” Rosalie grumbled as she perched on the armrest of the couch beside Emmett, “Are we having another one of those How to Respect the Telepath in Your Life meetings again?”

“No,” Edward answered, fully aware of the intent of this meeting since it hatched in Carlisle's mind two days prior. “But there’s never a bad time to bring that up. Christ, Emmett, if you’re going to have a song stuck in your head for over seventy-two hours, the least you can do is learn the correct lyrics.”

Emmett’s eyebrows knit together, asking his brother a silent question.

“It’s ‘mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido,’” Edward answered.

Emmett’s brow furrowed doubtfully.

“No.” Edward shook his head, answering Emmett’s thoughts. “Why would he eat a beetle?”

Emmett grinned playfully and tilted his head towards Edward.

Edward wasn’t amused. “You know what it means.”

A silly grin plastered on his face, Emmett elbowed Edward in the ribs, silently egging him on.  

Edward’s eyes darted to Carlisle, then Esme, and he shifted in his seat. “Sexual desire,” he muttered.  

Emmett howled with laughter and clapped his hands once, “Wow, Eddie! You’re just going to say that in front of Esme!?” Edward scowled as Emmett’s bouts of laughter echoed through the room.

Esme ran a hand through her youngest’s ginger hair. “Boys,” she warned, and Emmett sucked in his laughter.

“Our meeting today has to do with all of you,” Carlisle began.

“We simply wanted to go over the rules of attending school with you kids before you start your second year at Forks High School,” Esme explained, unfolding and re-folding her hands in front of her. “There are already whispers, and we don’t want those whispers to turn into rumors.”

“I thought the only whispers about us at school were whether or not Edward liked girls,” Rosalie said, earning an eye-roll from Edward.

“No,” Alice chirped,” Some kids think we’re a cult.”

Jasper leaned back heavily in his chair. “We haven’t heard that one since the Seventies.”

“Kids are getting more creative these days.” Emmett nodded appreciatively.

Esme held up one, delicate finger. “Which is why it is best to take preventative action.”

Carlisle took the floor. “We thought a few reminders would be helpful before you started your first day of your second year,” Carlisle said. “We don’t want another incident like the one we had at the end of last year.”

Every head in the room turned towards Emmett.

“What?” Emmett threw up his hands in exasperation, “The water gun fight was the senior prank—I wasn’t the one who brought them to the school. Hell, I wasn’t even the only student who got suspended!”

“That’s true,” Carlisle agreed, “but you were the only student to shout, ‘Sit down, kids! Daddy’s gotta tinkle,’ and shoot the stream of the gun from your crotch.”

Jasper snickered—the sound was immediately silenced by a single raised eyebrow from Esme.

“I still don’t see the problem,” Emmett continued, “That’s not necessarily a vampire thing.”

Edward—who often mistook himself as the third vampire parent rather than the youngest son—sighed, “Yes, but it brings unnecessary attention to the family. Which is the first rule: do not bring attention to yourself.”

Esme ran her fingers through her son’s hair once more, “Yes, darling, you are especially good at keeping to yourself.” Edward’s eyes widened, despite Esme’s gentle touch, already aware of where her point was headed. “So much so, that I have been given the names of several child therapists to help my son through his depression. One was recommended for his exceptional work on spotting and treating the early signs of sociopathic behavior.”

Esme grabbed her son’s chin and forced him to look at her. “You have to talk to other people.”

Knocked off his high horse, Edward flinched back from Esme’s hand. “Friendship with humans never bodes well for us.”

“We’re not asking you to create lifelong friendships with humans,” Carlisle clarified, “We are simply asking you to be likable.”

“A nearly impossible feat for Edward.” Rosalie grinned. The comment went unnoticed, save Edward’s slight flinch. But the quick, little tick was satisfying enough for Rose.

“Look at your father,” Esme gestured towards Carlisle, “At every hospital he works at, he goes out of his way to ensure he is well-liked among his colleagues. He forces down countless lunches and coffees, solely to make sure they’re comfortable around him.”

Carlisle took over. “And your mother, a beloved member of her gardening club and a prized member of the PTA.”

“And neither of us have rumors started about us, and do you know why?”

All five teenagers grumbled the ingrained response. “Humans don’t want to spread rumors about people they like.”

“Exactly.” Esme nodded.

“I try!” Alice whined, “But Edward never lets me talk to any humans.”

“That’s because every, single thing that is about to come out of your mouth is incriminating. You might as well walk around with a neon sign that says, ‘I’m a psychic vampire’.”

Alice scoffed, “Is not!”

“You wanted to tell Nihal Howard not to audition for the musical.”

“And he broke his leg on opening night,” Alice challenged.  

“You were going to tell Christiana Ward that pink was not her color.”

“And she lost prom queen to Ashley Kirby.”

Jasper put a comforting hand on his wife’s knee. “Maybe try not to meddle so much, darlin’. Natural relationships, first.”

“They would have been!” Alice wailed, “I would have played it cool and casual and made friends and you all would have seen it! But everyone’s hurt and I have no friends at all because Edward won’t let me try!”

Edward rolled his eyes.

Carlisle suppressed a heavy sigh. “You have to let your sister try, Edward.”

Edward’s mouth fell open. “You cannot seriously be siding with her on this!”

But Carlisle stood his ground. He and Edward stared at one another for a few seconds, engaged in a silent conversation. In the end, Carlisle tilted his chin and Edward slumped back. Victorious, Alice used both pointer fingers to jab Edward in the side several dozen times at vampire speed.

Rosalie flipped her golden locks over her shoulder. “I don’t know how you all struggle so much. I have no issues with becoming well-liked at school while remaining inconspicuous.”

“Oh yeah, you’re so inconspicuous,” Edward grumbled, now extra-petty that he had been called out two times in one meeting. “You dress like you're on your way to brunch at your second husband’s country club in Beverly Hills and you make out with your foster brother. The perfect picture of discretion in Forks High School.”

“At least I don’t dress like a sad, old man.” Rosalie grimaced, disappointed in her comeback. The light, humorous insults that were required in family situations were Emmett’s forte; Rosalie’s insults were meant to emotionally cripple a person.

Edward sat up in his seat on the couch and turned to face Rosalie. “I think you missed the main takeaway in that you make out with your foster brother.” Edward turned back. “I can read your minds, and I still don’t understand what made either of you think it was okay to bring your relationship to school?!”

Emmett smiled, unperturbed. “It’s hot.”

“It’s disturbing,” Edward disagreed.

Esme frowned, “You kids don’t really do that, do you?”

“Would it help if Jasper and I became an official couple too?” Alice suggested.     Jasper perked up at the idea of being able to hold hands with Alice in public again.

“No!” Edward yelled at the same time Emmett and Rosalie muttered their acquiesce.

“It wouldn’t seem as weird if there were two couples,” Emmett agreed.

Edward dug his fingers through his hair. “Oh my god!”

“...maybe not, kids,” Esme intervened, but was ultimately ignored.

“So should we come out today like it happened over the summer, or make a little show out of it?” Alice asked Rosalie.

Rosalie waved a hand in the air. “Oh, it’s way more fun if you play up the theatrics.”

“A little more realistic, too,” Emmett agreed.

Alice looked to Jasper for his opinion. “It might be better if we were discreet about it,” she said. “Like we knew it was wrong, but we wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of our love.”

Jasper scooted forward to the edge of his seat. “Or we could let it be quiet and drawn out. Let others see our mutual pining, and root for us to be together.”

Gazing deep into the golden eyes of her soulmate, Alice sighed, “I love that.”

“If people wanted us to get together, it would normalize Emmett and Rosalie’s relationship.”

“Or Rosalie and Emmett could stop,” Edward suggested, bitterly. “That would be normal, too.”

“Oh, Edward,” Alice patted his shoulder, “You’ll find love someday, too.”

“That is not at all what bothers me about the situation.”

Carlisle made the decision for everyone. “Rosalie and Emmett, break up at school. Alice and Jasper, remain friends and siblings.”

Disappointment filtered into the room through Jasper.  

“I heard that,” Edward grumbled at someone’s thoughts.

“You were supposed to,” Rosalie shot back.

“We are also initiating a new rule,” Esme brought the room back to the conversation at hand, “No more correcting your teachers.”

A chorus of complaints rang from the couch.

Esme clicked her tongue, “I’m tired of defending you all from entirely preventable issues. I have emails from curious teachers wondering why my foster daughter is taking French 101, when she already appears to be fluent.” Esme looked at Rosalie, who immediately tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Or why my son, at the tender age of sixteen, could not only deadlift three hundred pounds in his first weightlifting class, but also give his coach tips on improving his posture.”

Emmett glanced over at Edward before he realized Esme was, in fact, addressing him. “What!?”

Jasper snorted. The sound was a mistake, for it brought Esme’s wrath onto him. “And not to mention the emails from not one, not two, but three teachers warning me that my foster son has an intimate understanding of the mechanics of a point fifty-eight caliber rifle-musket.” Esme held out her hands, almost pleadingly, “How does that subject keep coming up, Jasper?”

A noncommittal grunt was the only answer Jasper had for that question.

“No more,” she commanded. “You can get good grades but keep your extra knowledge on any subject to yourself. Whatever your teacher teaches is all you know. Understand?”

“But what if we—” Edward started.

“Understand?” Esme repeated.

The five teenage vampires understood, even if they didn’t want to. 

“I believe that all five of you will graduate from Forks High School!” Esme cheered.

The kids stared back, unable to muster the zeal Esme had over the prospect.

“Meeting adjourned!” Carlisle announced, and faster than fast vampire speed, the kids bolted from their seats. 

Esme was able to get in a few more reminders as her children flitted around the house and filed out to the silver Volvo.  “Remember to buy lunch with cash and not your credit cards. Emmett, please do not joke about being mauled by a bear. Do not address your teachers by their first names—I don’t care if you’re older than they are, Edward. Alice, please wear something a bit more causal, pet.”

When the house was finally empty, Carlisle pulled Esme backwards into his chest and began massaging her temples. The gesture wasn’t needed, but any touch from her husband was always welcome.

“Do you think they’ll listen?” she asked her husband.

“Not a chance.”

[cersworld]

scene fourteen

cast: idol!sunghoon x reader ft. enhypen, txt, stray kids, etc.

what happens when your crush and ‘friend’ start dating on what was supposed to be a good day? you go for a long walk and come home with a bag full of empty wrappers and a new found friendship with a random guy you found crying in a park at half past one in the morning, on a weekday, in the middle of winter. what could possibly go wrong? nothing. (read: everything)

warning(s): a lot of swearing, mentions of bad mental health and mental health conditions, mentions of injuries, mentions of food, toxic friend(s), etc

you slipped silently through the large hall doors before quickly scurrying to your friends. everyone's eyes were on you, you could feel their gazes drilling into the back of your head as you slumped down next to jiwoo who gave you a quick glance and pat on the leg before turning back to the front.

the lights dimmed as the stage curtains were pulled up and there stood the principal with a microphone in his hand. you suppressed a groan as you watched him pull it up to his mouth and blow on it, instantly resulting in a high-pitched squeal filling the room, causing everyone inside to wince.

“good morning, students!” he says after a moment, “i, along with the rest of our staff, have prepared a surprise for all of you! you’re welcome!” he announced cheerfully before walking to the side of the stage.

once again, the whole student body held back groans. last time this happened everyone ended up on a two hour hike, which then turned into five hours when someone decided it would be funny to trip a teacher. it wasn’t funny and everyone ended up soaked in rainwater when the teacher wouldn’t shut up about respect.

some shuffling could be heard from the dark stage before the spotlight came on. you instantly heard squeals and gasps from around you as people took out their phones and began to record. addy slapped you from where she was beside you as she too pulled out her phone, with its bejewelled phone case, and pointed it towards the stage.

“one, two, connect! hello, we are enhypen!”

as soon as the performance ended, there was a round-of-applause before the teachers began ushering all the students out of the hall and onto the field and back to class.

“hey, y/n?” some girl tapped you on the shoulder, “mr. kim isn’t here today so it’s a free period.” she informed, to which you simply nodded.

“what the fuck?! so i didn’t need to buy you that frappé?! do you know how expensive that was?!” ryo screeched as he walked out behind you.

you snickered at him, pulling your large chocolate drink out of your jacket pocket. “sucks to suck, bitch.” you said as you took a sip of the drink before moving it towards him, “want some?”

“yes, please.” he said before you moved the straw to his mouth.

that was when addy decided to come over, along with the rest of the group, and start speaking, “aww, look at you guys sharing a drink. how are you guys not dating when you’re literally sharing a straw?”

your face instantly scrunched up, “i share my straw with anyone, what are you going on about?”

“no, but i mean, like, he’s a boy.”

you raised an eyebrow at that, “okay, and?”

she looked at you incredulously, “that’s like, an indirect kiss.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at that, “what does that have to do with him being a guy? i’ve shared my drink with everyone here, including you.”

“y-yeah but-” she started to rebut before glancing around, clearly looking for an escape, and then squealing, “oh my god! look, they’re here. and they’re coming this way?!” she turned back to you, running her fingers through her hair, “quick, how does my hair look?”

you took another sip of your drink before confusedly furrowing your eyebrows at her, “fine? why are you-” but before you could finish your question you felt someone tap your shoulder and as you turned around, you were met with the seven boys you had just watched perform on stage.

jake, the one who had tapped your shoulder, then looked back at the other boys, grinning, “see? i told you it was her!” before turning back to you, “hey, we meet again!”

you stared at him blankly for a second before glancing at the boys behind him, finally remembering where you had seen them before when you caught sight of sunghoon, a.k.a the cute, clumsy famous dude. your face quickly broke out into a grin as you raised a fist to fistbump jake, “yo~ it’s you guys! no wonder you looked so familiar.”

there were a few beats of awkward silence as your friends silently watched the interaction, before sunghoon mustered up the courage to walk forward and softly ask, “so, what’d you think of the performance?”

“oh, i loved it! especially the part where you-” you started before crouching to the floor and imitating his move from given-taken, almost poking yourself in the eye with the straw of your drink. “you calling me over the thin line, i, who calls you and then boom”

everyone watched as you got up from the ground, rubbing dirt off your skirt, shocked at the fact that you could sing so well. well, everyone except sunghoon, anyway, who was used to it but still proud at the reactions you had gotten from his members.

“tha-” sunoo began, about to start complimenting you, but was quickly stopped when addy moved in front of you, pushing you back as she began to talk and bat her eyes.

“omg! hi! i am such a huge fan of you guys, oh my god! i can’t believe you actually came to my school! i really liked the performance too! you guys were amazing! wow, can i get a picture with you guys?”

max held in a snort as you watched the boys silently exchange glances before jungwon stepped up, “um, sorry, but we aren’t allowed to take pictures with the students.”

“aww,” she pouted at that, lips jutting out as she fluttered her eyelashes some more, “i promise i won’t post it anywhere! please? just one, i swear!”

you watched as the boys started to look uncomfortable and decided it was time for you to step forward and pull addy back slightly, “hey, don’t you have class right now?”

“w- yeah, but i-” she stuttered, glancing at the boys and then back at you.

you gave her a slight nudge towards the buildings, “you should probably go then. i heard that ms. yun was planning to get you suspended if you were late again.”

her eyes widened at that, “actually?! oh my god i have to go!” she yelled before running in the direction of the buildings.

as she did, you took another sip of your frappe before turning and seeing a middle-aged man approaching the boys from the other side, a small badge with the word ‘manager’ on his chest. you quickly took a step away from the boys, in case the man thought you were harassing them, only to step on hyun’s foot, earning a harsh push from him.

you let out a strangled yelp as you stumbled and fell backward, dropping your frappe onto the grass beside you. this is why i don’t like you, you fucking prick, you thought as you were caught mid fall, glaring up at hyun who instantly froze when he saw who had caught you. this is gonna be my villain origin story, i swear to god.

“be careful.” spoke sunghoon softly, before standing you up, pulling away and grinning at you, tilting his head as he spoke, “and i thought i was meant to be the clumsy one.”

you were about to reply before you heard max stalk toward hyun, "oi!" he said, grabbing onto the guy's collar, "what the fuck, dude?!"

you chewed on your lip, glancing around to see how many people were watching before stepping forward and pulling max away from hyun, “okay~ let’s not.”

max scoffed, glaring daggers at hyun, “watch it you fu-”

minhyun smirked, rolling his eyes, “what? she stepped on my new shoes, if anything i should’ve punched her.”

as soon as those words left his mouth, everyone turned to glare at him, fists curling by their sides. however, ryo was the only one who stepped forward.

and that’s how hyun ended up in the hospital with a broken nose.

taglist: @ja4hyvn @studioreader @angel-hyuckie @hwalllllllelujah @a-vian @msxflower @rielleluvs @kac-chowsballs @abdiitcryy @s2elf-z @giyyuzz @amakumos @ncthpen @xithecherie @fullsun9890 @hiqhkey @navsnct @enthusiastforniki @hoewithnojams @leeis @c9tnoos @uauznaixla @wonielvr @lost-leopard-beanie

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[theladyofbloodshed]

Au Acosf - Chapter 73

I decided to split the chapter into two parts as it's growing so large and there's a lot to deal with so, surprise you get half of it earlier! All of you who thought Adeline/Eris were up to something sneaky... he's just a boy who loves his mama!

@a-court-of-valkyries @sv0430 @mis-lil-red @nesquik-arccheron @emily-gsh @sunsetsofanemoia @swankii-art-teacher @moodymelanist @nestaarcher0n @my-fan-side @c-e-d-dreamer @nestaspegasus @champanheandluxxury @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @lyzriel @dustjacketmusings @sugardoll22 @gwynethhberdara @embersofwildfire @witchsouth @faeriebambula @lady-winter-sunrise

‘Keep by my side,’ Baran advised, extending his arm for Nesta to slip her own through.

There were many mourners lined up along the vast corridors, weaving their way through the Forest House towards Beron’s body which was kept in a large hall for them to pay their respects. There was little chatter, just a sombre mood as if all the colour had been drained from the world. Mourners had come to say their final farewell to their High Lord. Nesta wasn’t sure how much of it was voluntary or expected following his passing.

She thought she might feel different, might feel some relief that the iron-fisted Lord had passed away, but her gut churned with worry.

There were tears from a number of females – quiet ones that slipped down their cheeks – as they shuffled along in the queue. Beron had never been the sort of male that would want females weeping for him, she thought; he was more likely to be the awful cause of tears and laugh cruelly at them. Change brought uncertainty, so perhaps some were worried over the future, perhaps some wanted to appear full of sorrow to appease their new high lord.  

Baran led her through a side door, once guards had allowed them entry. The Forest House was a labyrinth, one that never seemed to end so she was glad to keep hold of him.

It was the family’s private quarters Baran had taken her to, Nesta realised with a jolt. Her eyes canvassed the portraits lining one the pine-coloured walls. Each High Lord of the court had a painting there; all the males had cunning eyes with shades of brown or russet hair. These males likely had all killed to secure their throne. Eris was simply the next Vanserra in a long line of males who had held the seat. The Vanserra name was ancient and powerful, holding the seat of the Autumn Court for an impossibly long length of time. The weight of the Vanserra legacy was gargantuan – and she did not envy Eris for carrying it.

‘The public showing will end soon,’ explained Baran as he escorted her into a small parlour. ‘It is customary.’  

He gestured for Nesta to take a seat so she perched on the edge of a dark green couch, her fingers brushed against the velvet material as a way of grounding herself. It almost felt like a dream. A strange dream that she could not wake herself up from.

‘Eris will come here when the viewing is finished. He knows you will be here.’

‘How did he know I’d come?’

Baran quirked his head to the side, the dimple making an appearance again. ‘Because he said good people always go where they are needed.’

***

‘She’s not here.’

‘What do you mean she’s not here?’

Cassian gritted his teeth, fighting away the snarl rumbling in his chest, setting his siphons pulsing with power. ‘I mean she isn’t in the cabin, Az. What else could I fucking mean?’

Rhys saw fit to extend the offer of paying their respects to Beron’s memory to Nesta too. Az had been sent along with Cassian to Illyria under the thinly-veiled guise of winnowing them. Cass knew he was only there to ensure he did invite Nesta and return to Velaris rather than barring the door and not leaving.

His heart was in his mouth as he lumbered through the cabin like an oaf. He hauled open the armoire’s doors, wrenched open the chest of drawers. Cassian didn’t know what he was looking for really. Evidence that Nesta had packed and left. Evidence of her hiding under a bed ready to jump out and surprise him. That desperate hope that she hadn’t been driven away by him.

Azriel never gave him an inch of space. He’d stuck to him, colliding twice when Cassian had turned around and barrelled into him by accident, once wing to wing, the second time Az’s head had clattered with his jaw.

The cabin had been so well warded by Rhys for their protection that Nesta could only leave willingly. Somehow that was worse. She had walked out of that door by choice.

‘Cass, stop. Stop.’ Azriel blocked him on the stairs. ‘She might be with Emerie for all we know. Stop jumping to conclusions.’

‘She’s not. I know she’s not. Move.’

Az pushed against his chest, hard enough to shove him back a few inches so his wings bounced off the wall.

‘Tell me to move again and you won’t go to Autumn. We need to be a unit tonight to protect our High Lord and Lady. Think, Cass. Every court gathered. The risk is high for a trap or an attack. If you will be a liability, you will stay behind.’

It was rare for either of them to ever pull rank on each other. It was only ever done with good reason.

When his temper stopped pressing on the edges, Az released a scarred hand from his armour.

‘You are duty bound to this court,’ he said, voice crackling with power then he softened slightly, brow drawing downward. ‘Cass, have some trust in Nesta.’

‘She doesn’t want the bond.’

‘Who cares? She hasn’t been fae long – she doesn’t understand their significance in the way we do. But she has chosen you.’

‘For how long?’ He had given his fear a voice and now it felt like a very real creature growing larger with every rasping inhale.

Zasha rested his large on his knee when the descended into the kitchen so Cassian could gain his composure. Big, amber eyes blinked at him. She wouldn’t leave for good without Zasha. All of her clothes, her belongings, they all were still in their rightful place in their bedroom. It was enough to take the edge off of his fear.  

Nesta’s note had been found on the table and it was now curled up in Cassian’s hand, a treasured secret too fragile to let go of. Shame smacked into him like a wave against a rock.

‘I was a fucking bastard yesterday.’

‘Just yesterday?’

He stuck his middle finger up to Az, but was secretly thankful for the jibe. It knocked the last bit of his temper loose. He explained how cold he’d been to Nesta as a defence mechanism for an inevitable, make-believe rejection. Azriel was good enough to listen without passing comment. His face remained unreadable.

‘I need you there, brother. Mor’s not going. I can’t protect Rhys and Feyre alone. The Crown is still in play. I’m uneasy about us going there already. I’d feel a lot better with you at my side, Cass.’

Rhys would not subject his cousin to that. Wouldn’t force Mor to sweep low and kiss Eris’ boots. In the pit of his stomach, Cassian knew that part of his fear of abandonment stemmed from that stupid dalliance in Illyria with Mor. He had been nothing; the bottom rung in a lesser society. There were males there whose glory was already written in the stars. Males who had achieved greatness in their lives – and he had been nothing. Young, dumb, untested, more boy than man. Even between him and Azriel, his brother was the son of a lord at least and a shadow singer. Cassian had been nothing then but Mor had chosen him. It was her first time – but his too. He’d never touched a female before her.

And then she’d got what she wanted and never wanted another moment with him again because the best way to ruin an engagement with a future high lord was to debase herself with someone like Cassian.

He’d learnt from it, pretended it was as meaningless to him as it was to Mor. Both had had fun and that was all either had planned for. He didn’t blame her for it. Mor had needed an escape and he was glad she felt safe enough around him - and still was safe in Velaris. But there would always be doubts that he was not good enough for anyone.  

***

Nesta occupied herself with a seat by the window. Her eyes would flick up from the book on Autumn Court history she’d pulled from the shelf to watch the mourners departing back through the dense forests. A servant had been and gone with a tray of tea, speaking little as she deposited the items on a rickety table.

The stream of visitors trickled slower and slower as she drained the dregs of her tea. Eventually, the door opened and Eris slipped in. There were shadows beneath his eyes and he trod heavily into the room.

A vigil by his father’s body had occurred for two days, as expected by Autumn traditions. During that time, the new high lord was unable to eat or sleep, only drinking scant amounts as a testament to his devotion to the role. It was the time when he’d be weakest and more likely to be attacked during the period of instability; the first trial of his rule.

Nesta had moved to him. And then their arms were around each other, Eris’ head bent towards her own.

‘I’m so sorry, Eris.’

‘I thought I’d feel better about it. Thought I’d laugh, but I feel so empty.’

She stepped back to examine the fatigue wearing on his expression. Her father’s neck had been snapped in front of her eyes – and just like that the years of neglect had been erased. Elain and Feyre held a candle to his memory, their brilliant father who had brought armies to the battle ground. Not the father who had watched their mother die, not the father who had lay on his bed day after day while poverty tore at their flesh, not the father who watched his youngest be dragged away to Prythian and did nothing. Death, it seemed, absolved all sins.

Nesta led Eris into a chair and took the one next to him. ‘Let yourself grieve. It’s not shameful to still feel grief despite his actions. You can feel cheated, angry, sad. You can feel all of it, Eris.’

Eris nodded. ‘A tyrant, a bully, and still my father. Still a male I’ve learnt a lot from. He taught me how not to be. And I’ve vowed to never repeat his mistakes.’ Nesta clasped his fingers to squeeze them once in understanding. ‘Still a part of me though. Still what I can become.’

‘What happens next?’

‘The other high lords should present themselves tonight. Any who do not attend oppose my rule.’

‘Is that likely?’

‘It has never happened before. Not for my father or any other high lord. Afterwards, my brothers and I will carry my father to the pyre where his body will be cremated. I know it is difficult for you to be here – to even give my father any respect after he humiliated you – especially with your mate’s court.’ Eris pulled his fingers free from hers. ‘I will be busy. My mother will be stood alone mourning her husband. I couldn’t.’ His voice broke then. ‘I couldn’t let her go through it alone and I didn’t know who else to ask to be there for her. He isolated her from everybody. She has nobody except me.’

‘I’ll be there as long as you need me. Where is she now?’

‘Having a lie down. She’s… I’m so worried.’ Eris scrubbed his face with his hands. ‘Did you know faebane accumulates inside a body with regular doses? On one off occasions, the body can remove it, but when it is continually absorbed into the system the body struggles to expel it. Magic begins to dim until the host is rendered almost mortal.’

His voice was barely more than a whisper so Nesta had to lean towards him to catch each word.

‘My father died in his sleep. After months and months of food laced with faebane. Massive organ failure. My mother has been taking it too, to not arouse suspicion. It was put in both of their food.’

‘Is she sick?’

Eris shook his head slowly. ‘Her dosage was always much lower, but still there. Her body should begin to break it down now she no longer has to take it. But I’m still terrified, Nesta. I can’t have a healer see her properly because it would arouse too much suspicion.’

‘How did you know it would work, Eris?’ Nesta breathed. The story had the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. Such a gamble, such a dangerous scheme.  

Eris rolled his shoulders to ease the tension knotting his spine. ‘My father’s been complaining of headaches and nose bleeds. He’s had two healers exiled for failing to discover what was ailing him. His moods have been worse than usual. Utterly vile. He dug his grave before he died, so to speak. Nobody will be too sorry. Autumn Court citizens will know that he’s been ill and it’s been hushed up.’

It was a dangerous game they’d both played, Eris and Adeline. Nesta could hardly believe that Eris would risk his mother that way – to let her take the faebane and to plant it into Beron’s food. He seemed to follow her train of thought.

‘There is a saying that poison is a female’s weapon. If my mother ever came under suspicion, the only one capable of pardoning her would be the High Lord.’ Eris gestured to himself.

‘You thought of everything,’ she said, marvelling slightly at the lengths of his plotting. ‘Will your brothers swear fealty to you?’

‘If they know what’s good for them. I expect them to pledge their allegiance by nightfall tomorrow. If not, they’ll be hunted.’

The words hung in the air. It would break Adeline if more of her sons were sent away. She had already seen two die. She had suffered enough in her sad, sorry life.

Despite the enormity of the Forest House, a silence had veiled it. Nesta struggled to even hear any steps scurrying by in the long corridors. Eris stared blankly at the wall, the enormity of the decision weighing on him now. She let him have a while to dwell without infringing on his silence. Instead, Nesta observed from the window as servants readied a pyre in the distance. Trees had been felled creating a clearing. The wood was chopped by burly males, their axes splitting the trunks. Others used to magic to tear branches off and to layer them around the stage. Ordinarily, the wood wouldn’t burn. It was too fresh, not dry enough, but magic would be used that night.

The Night Court would show, Nesta was sure of it. Eris had been their ally and the time was ripe to seize the fruits of it. Eris had positioned himself exactly where he needed to be without waging a civil war in his Court. It was difficult not to wonder whether Eris really needed the Night Court’s alliance now.

‘Does your tattoo hurt?’

Nesta touched two fingers to it through the soft material of her black gown instinctively. She nodded.

‘It woke me,’ Eris continued, rubbing his arm where his lay. ‘And then my mother came to me that morning to say he’d died. I already knew. I felt different. Full of power. Power that pushed at the fringes, expanding and growing through my marrow.’ Eris joined her by the window, face grave. ‘How badly does it hurt you?’

‘Just itching mostly. A little sore like I’ve bruised it.’

‘I think it’s the change in my powers altering the promise. I shouldn’t think it’s anything to worry about.’

‘I’ll investigate it.’

‘Add it to your eternal to-do list,’ Eris teased.

She nudged him with her elbow and he slung an arm around her shoulder, tugging Nesta into an embrace. When Eris finally let her go, Nesta couldn’t help but sadness surrounding her. Eris was a High Lord now. His duties would be never ending – and he was not a male who would delegate. Eris could never relinquish control that way. There would be no more dances, no outfits sent ahead for her to wear, no more teasing and joking, no bouncing ideas off each other – and definitely no time spent training magic or Zasha. It felt like the end. The end of their strange, unexpected friendship.

‘Besides,’ he said, winking, ‘If Koschei is on my heels, I had to level up my powers. With my father gone, that’s one less ally for Briallyn.’

‘You’re two steps ahead of everyone else.’

***

In five hundred years, Cassian had never received an invitation to the Autumn Court. None of them had. The Autumn Court wasn’t known for its hospitality or cheery nature. From its reputation, they expected gloom and dungeons galore. Lesser fae heads spiked on wrought-iron gates.

Rhys had been militant in ensuring they had a contingency plan for every outcome. If anything happened – any seeds of a trap or danger – they’d winnow out. They didn’t put it past Beron not to have faked his death to gather them all there.

They had discussed the possibility of Briallyn pulling strings or even Koschei. The priority would be getting to Nesta then winnowing to safety. The whole situation made Cassian raw with anxiety. He’d not been able to eat a bite, could barely sit down. He’d not even considered that it might be a trap, not until Azriel had mentioned the Autumn Court males who’d been under the thrall of the Crown. He’d excused himself to vomit. Nesta could already be hurt for all they knew. Time was too short to plan properly, especially with only scant details that Azriel had from spying.

When Rhys announced they were to leave, Mor had pulled her arms around him, worry marring her expression. Cassian could not even find words to say. His tongue had knotted, worried that Nesta would stay in Autumn, worried something worse would happen, worried he’d lose her entirely.

In a copse of trees, they landed in the Autumn Court. A warm breeze rustled through the red leaves. The rich evening light caught upon the branches so they appeared like spun gold. For such a cold people, the Autumn Court was gorgeous. The vibrant leaves littered the soft undergrowth in hues of amber to orange.

‘It’s pretty,’ Feyre said, brushing her fingers against the rough bark of an ancient oak tree.

‘You’re able to enjoy it more when Eris and his brothers aren’t hunting you and Lucien through it, I suppose, Feyre darling.’

Feyre gave a middle-fingered salute to her mate who reached for her hand and kissed the tip of her finger.

The location of the Forest House was known – it was too vast for it to not be known by every court. Still, it wasn’t weak; beyond the fortress itself, the thick forests made it difficult for an army to mobilise effectively. A massive river thundered by over weirs and rocks, cutting it off from the north and the east.

Torches lit their way towards the Vanserra family home. From Nesta’s stories, Cassian knew Eris had his own residence, further away with a lake and an orchard – far more than a humble cabin in Illyria.

‘Rhysand,’ a deep, rich voice rippled across the forest floor to them.

Appearing a few paces behind, flanked by his Peregryn guards, was Thesan, High Lord of the Dawn Court. Even this Court suited him, Cassian thought, as the golden glow bathed his brown skin so he glowed brightest of all.

They walked in silence, continuing onwards until they saw the guards flanking the narrow gates. The Summer Court was already there; Varian inclined his head in acknowledgment. They had left Amren and Mor in Velaris; the latter had too much history with Eris, the former couldn’t be trusted not to spit on Beron’s corpse.

‘We’ll be herded in there like sheep,’ Az murmured, shadows skittering over the ground.

There were four gates at each compass point, each one only wide enough for two to pass through comfortably; an excellent defence for the Forest House.

‘Sense anything?’

‘I don’t think I can ever feel anything but on edge here, Rhys.’ His hazel eyes scanned the crowd. It was sacrilege to bring a weapon – it didn’t mean blood couldn’t be spilt. The sentries were all armed to the hilt. Magic could be equally as deadly, sometimes worse.

Cassian was scanning for another, but there were no signs of his mate. Tamlin had arrived with an elderly female whose face was severe. They exchanged a nod of acknowledgement. Kallias and Vivienne appeared beside them along with a modest number of their council. Vivienne searched their group then her eyes widened in understanding when she realised Mor was absent.

A guard announced that they would be escorted to the main hall where they were expected to pay their respect to the former and current High Lords. Eris would gloat through every minute of it, Cassian was sure of it.

A warm hand touched his shoulder, making him jump. Without pomp or fanfare, Helion had arrived. There was no Pegasus, no blazing chariot, not even a single member of his entourage to escort him. There was a longstanding history between him, Beron and the Lady of the Autumn Court. Yet, he had come all the same, putting duty ahead of feelings. Perhaps Cassian could take a leaf from Helion’s book.

‘Eris has just become the most desired male in Prythian,’ Helion murmured to them, joining their group. ‘It’s said the Vanserra treasury is guarded by a dragon, it’s so vast.’

‘We’ll stage a heist later, Helion,’ Rhys replied, clapping him on the back. ‘Stop spending so much on wine and you won’t need to loot your colleagues.’

***

The Courts were assembled; all of them were in attendance. All had come. Nobles and lesser lords from the Autumn Court had also arrived, keen to clamour for Eris’ favour. The hall was swollen with bodies. Yellow candlelight flickered against the cream walls and along the polished wooden beams above them. A smell of roasting chestnuts wafted through air.

Each High Lord brought their small council, except one. The majority had come clad in black – even Helion had opted for an onyx toga that reached past his knees with no sign of his crown or golden arm band. He looked lost, Nesta thought. Helion, who seemed to dominate every social situation with his oozing charisma, was dulled. Morose, even. She’d felt his amber eyes on her often, but when she finally raised her head to meet him, it was not Nesta that Helion looked at all. It was the frail female tucked beside her who stood in a stoic silence.

Before entering the hall, Nesta had brushed through the Lady of the Autumn Court’s dry hair, tidying it for her after her lay down. It was brittle under her fingers, her skin so pale it was almost translucent. Was it grief or the faebane? Or was it guilt?

The Vanserra family stood on a raised dais, Eris the tallest of them. The body of Beron lay before them wrapped in a shroud of richest green patterned with golden branches. Nesta kept her hand settled on Adeline’s back, feeling uncomfortable to be lined up alongside the rest of the Vanserra’s as if she had become part of the family, though they were positioned to one side, sentries guarding them. No, Nesta would never have let Adeline go through this agony alone, to stand in isolation whilst she mourned. She would weather Feyre and Rhysand’s scorn.  

Cassian would not look at her, would not as much as acknowledge her presence. The guilt pressing on her chest was immeasurable. She knew that this was a torture for him and wished she could have told him properly that Adeline needed someone.

Nesta fixed her attention on Feyre, willing her to look at her, but Feyre stayed with her head tipped towards the floor as an acolyte spoke. She looked to Rhys next, staring at him until his violet eyes turned her way.

Go into my head, she begged, go into my head.

Nesta?

Oh. You heard me.

You were screaming so loud against my mental shields.

He still managed to drawl even in her head.

Tell Cassian I’m sorry. Please. I didn’t know I’d have to stand up at the front like this. I know this is hard for him, but… I needed to be here.

Rhys gave a slight nod of his head, inconspicuous to anyone who was watching. If he passed along the message, Nesta wouldn’t know. Cassian had not deigned to turn any attention to her besides, he was watching Kallias as he passed on his condolences to Eris on behalf of the Winter Court.

In turn, each court approached. With every new arrival, Adeline seemed to shrink more and more against Nesta. Tears had come easily to her, so Nesta drove her thumb harder against the female’s skin, a private message that she was there with her.

When Rhys and Feyre paid their respects, Feyre’s eyes briefly met Nesta’s. Sorrow glimmered her features at the sight of Adeline, weak and broken, resting her weight onto Nesta.

The acolyte began talking again, her voice a lilting song against the bleak mood that had seized the Forest House. She said a eulogy to Beron, listing his achievements, his history, his long, long life ruling the territory. The brothers stood in stony silence. The acolyte did not tell the High Lords how Beron had beaten and tortured his sons, had driven one to exile, had forced them to fight until two had died. She did not speak of the way Beron had crushed his wife for centuries. No, death pardoned all crimes.

Under the direction of a sentry, each council from each court, moved to form an aisle for Beron’s body to be carried through like a guard of honour. They were duty-bound to enact it, even if none had ever cared for the male.

At the back of the hall, the door opened once more. A lone figure entered. Handsome and scarred, red hair running down his back.

The enormous silence filling the room was only broken by the quiet gasp beside Nesta as Adeline clutched a hand to her mouth.

Eris was already moving with purpose, legs striding through the empty space towards Lucien.

Bodies paces from each other, they paused - then Eris threw his arms around Lucien, pulling him tightly to him.

‘My brother. Welcome home.’

Lucien’s throat bobbed. His eyes closed, Eris’ too, as they continued their embrace. Adeline was shaking beside Nesta so she drew her shawl around the female, drawing it tight enough to stop her falling apart.

The brothers moved into position ready to carry their father’s body out through the Forest House and into the thick trees beyond to his place of rest. Lucien paused to kiss his mother’s cheek – their first moment in centuries. She touched his forehead with her own, eyes heavy with tears. Her beloved son, welcomed home: Eris’ first act as High Lord.

Guards flanked them either side as Nesta escorted Adeline behind her husband’s body. Her own chest felt as if it were caving in when she moved past the Night Court and was unable to stretch out her fingers to brush against her mate and have the touch she yearned for. Yet Adeline was so frail, her body weakened by faebane that Nesta had to be strong and continue guiding the lady.

One by one, the courts followed afterwards, trailing their path.

Adeline’s tears fell thickly blurring her russet eyes so she clung to Nesta as they weaved over uneven roots, following the glow of torches through the darkened forest. It was a shame that the most unified Adeline’s sons had ever been were as they carried their father’s body to its final resting place. Nesta stroked up and down her back, feeling each painful nub of her spine.

With a heavy heart, Nesta realised that Adeline had done this twice before for two of her own sons. She had walked their bodies into the forest to watch them burn. She had seen their bodies cremated and set to the wind the day Lucien had been expelled from his home. The Lady of the Autumn Court had lost three sons that day.

It was a pyre worthy of Beron, Nesta thought as the Vanserras laid him in the centre of it. It was magnificent, as wide as it was tall. Each son stood near a portion, their hands alight with flame. Yes, it made sense for the Autumn Court to cremate their dead. Their magic was flame, capable of devouring.  

Eris, voice, thick with emotion pushed against the silence. ‘Cauldron save you. Mother hold you. Pass through the gates and smell that immortal land of milk and honey. Fear no evil. Feel no pain. May you rest in the realm of eternity.’

 In unison, the males sent their flames to crawl across the pyre.

Adeline turned her face to Nesta, burying her choking sobs into her neck. Nesta bit down on her tongue, fighting against the tide of emotion threatening to overwhelm her too. For over five hundred years, Adeline had been the belittled wife of Beron. Now, she was free.

Nesta managed to turn her eyes to the flames, to focus on the flickering golden light. Most of the attention remained on the high lord, but one pair of amber eyes weighed heavily on them again.

Helion Spellcleaver watched the Lady of the Autumn Court cry against Nesta with longing carved into his features. She caught the hesitant step forwards – then Helion stopped himself. He did not turn his eyes to Beron, merely stared down at the floor, the ache in chest a palpable thing.

Lucien stepped away first, his flames receding from his fingers. One by one, the brothers relinquished their fire, symbolic of their time spent with their father, until only Eris remained. His flames burnt and crackled, the sound of wood splitting and hissing, driving a knife through Nesta’s own heart at the memories it brought with it.

She wanted it to be over. She wanted to go home.

[gloxina111]

The Enchantress

-> PAIRING┆MHA x Fem! Enchantress! Reader

-> CAUTION ┆She/Her Pronouns / Black Reader

-> WORD COUNT ┆800

-> PART ┆1/?

-> NOTE ┆Reader is the host of The Enchantress (from the Suicide Squad) and the reader has no quirk.

::::::::: _-_-_- ::::::::: _-_-_- ::::::::: _-_-_- ::::::::: _-_-_- ::::::::: _-_-_- :::::::::

The clanging of keys had awakened you. You had been incarcerated in a maximum-security prison for four months after an insensate in NYC. "#123, Wake up, you'll be sedated and transported by the end of the day," a guard walked by. "Where am I being transported to?" you asked looking out of the little peephole. "You'll be going to Musutafu, Shizuoka Prefecture, Japan and you'll be attending U.A high in the hero course," the guard walked away going to another section of the prison.

Late multiple guards came to my cell, restrained me and sedated me.

𖤐 ~ 𖤐 ~ 𖤐

Once the sedative wore off I was already in a small office still restrained to a wheelchair. "Aw, well it's good to see you awake. I'm Nezu the principal of U.A hight," a short rodent-looking creature held out its hand to what I just looked at. "Oh, sorry my bad," he smiled before ushering someone to unrestraint me. After the mask that prevented me from speaking was taken off I introduce myself, "Y/N, L/N." "Now that we got the formalities out of the way let's meet the faculty," Principal Nezu hopped off his chair and led the way to the teacher lounge room.

Immediately as the two off you entered the lounge room everyone was on high alert. "Everyone may I have your attention please, this is Y/N L/N and they are here for the villain rehabilitation study," Nezu introduced. "I just have one thing to and on to that if it's okay?" you looked over at Nezu, to which he just nodded his head to symbol to carry on. "As you might all know I was the reason for what happened in NYC four months ago, but I just want to make it clear that I have no intentions of causing harm to anyone nor do I have a quirk and I look forward to learning from you," you bowed in respect. "Nezu what does she mean, she doesn't have a quirk?" a load blonde asked. "Well you’ll find out later, now let's move on to your homeroom and teacher," Nezu started walking again.

"This will be your homeroom," the principal pointed to a sign that said 1-A on it. "Your homeroom teacher is Mr.Aizawa," he gestured to the man working at his desk. "You'll start school tomorrow and for the time being, you will be living in a sanctioned house outside of Musutafu. If you need anything please contact me or your homeroom teacher Aizawa," he lead you out the door of the classroom and to the front gates of the school where a car awaited you. "You'll be needing this," Nezu handed you your personal key card before waving bye and walking back into the gates, well you were transported to your new living quarters.

Following up on getting dropped off at the front gates of a modern Japanese house you were escorted into the house by guards.

The house wasn't the biggest but it didn't matter since there was only one person and an ancient, inter-dimensional spirit that you hosted would be living in the house.

"Dzamor, do you think we'll get our stuff back?" you asked the ancient spirit. "No," was all she desired to hiss out. "Since we're starting a new life at U.A you can't take over whenever you want, you're not messing this up for use do you understand??" you informed the spirit to what The Enchantress didn't reply. With that, you made your way to the only bedroom in the house and got ready for bed.

𖤐 ~ 𖤐 ~ 𖤐

The next morning you had gotten into one of the many school uniforms that were neatly folded and placed on the dining room table right before guards ushered you to a white van that had U.A printed on it.

Once you arrived at the gates of U.A security had come to the door and let you out before restraining you right before they walked you into the compounds and to your class. Well being walked to your class you had walked by Nezu to which he smiled and wished you luck for your first day.

When you entered the class all eyes were on you and you could hear your peers whispering to them selfs about you. “Who is that?” “Isn’t that the person that caused all the chaos in New York a couple months back,” “Why are their people surrounding them,” were some of the many comments that you could hear right before you were handcuffed and shackled you a desk and chair. “This Is going to be a long day,” was all you could think about, and that you were right.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Graveyard Siblings (6)

Class revenge. And mention of suicide.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 5)

------

Normal class day and most of the class was still together. This is set after the class’s trip to Gotham.

Alix and Chloe had transferred to another class or a different school. There were a few new students but they transferred out within a week, when they all had tried to point out Lila’s lies and the class picked on them on Lila’s behalf.

Class is still taught by Mme. Bustier.

She rolled-calls and somehow Marinette’s name was on there and she just absentmindedly read it.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng”

“Present.” A cheery voice said.

Goes to the next name before everyone froze and looked at the source of the voice which was where they exiled Marinette to before her ‘suicide’.

There she was. An older-looking Marinette who would look the same age as them as if she was still alive, her longer hair was in a high ponytail and her clothes were switched out from her usual pink to red and black and had a more mature look that was stylish instead of cute.

She wore her signature bright grin but the sight of it brought chills down everyone’s spines.

Lila thought that it was her curse kicking in and since she hadn't seen Marinette until then, fainted on the spot, thinking she was finally going to be killed.

“M-ma-marinette. What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” Older Marinette said with a confused face. “Oh. You mean why am I not late? First time for everything, I guess. I am not late today so Yay for me.” She giggles but everyone else thinks that it sounds terrifying.

“But this is impossible. You simply can’t be here.” Max said, “Odds of you still alive are zero.”

“Can’t I? I mean I woke up early and got here on time. What is impossible about me being early? I would normally be a zombie during the morning, Max but nice one.”

Some students checked their phones for akumas. Hawkmoth had mysteriously disappeared around Marinette’s death making a few rumours about Marinette being Hawkmoth floating around. (Lila was the first to suggest that as a theory.)

Mme Bustier cleared her throat, terrified out of her mind and scared that if she provoked the ‘ghost’ of her former star student, there would be consequences like the horror movies. But she was not going to let it hurt any of her students.

“Marinette, there must have been a misunderstanding. You should be home.”

“Why?’

“Because um...you are... you are sick and you don’t want to infect your fellow classmates, right?”

“Hm..I feel fine but now that you mention it, I feel a little dizzy. I think I am going to take the day off.”

The rest of the class murmured in agreement, scared not to offend the ‘ghost’. A few of the girls like Mylene had tears running down their cheeks. Horror movies logic dictates that you should not remind the ghost that they are dead or make them angry.

Juleka was half-scared out of her mind for Rose who was also crying and herself and also half-excited, even though Marinette might be a vengeful ghost, there is still a ghost in their classroom.

Mme Bustier started muttering prayers under her breath.

Marinette packed up her things and was out of her seat when Adrien came into the class.

He was held up because he started sneezing non-stop this morning. Turns out Natalie had some black feathers on her.

He sees Marinette in the back row.

“Ma-Marinette! How are you here?!” to which everyone in the class sans Lila who was still passed out, shushed at him.

Ignoring them, he blurted out, “You are dead.”

The word echoed through the classroom. It was silent for a moment and you could hear a pin drop.

“Dead? What do you mean dead?” Marinette took a step down the stairs, the perfect picture of confusion but her eyes seemed a little crazed and Adrien took a step back, the word ‘Traitor’ carved into his back started burning.

Everyone in their seats shifted slightly away from her. Some considered making a run for the door but they didn’t want to draw attention and face the ghost’s wrath. They all mimed at Adrien to stop.

He ignored them again. “Don’t pretend you are innocent. You did this to me. YOU MADE ME LOSE EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING. YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED DEAD. I DON’T REGRET KILLING YOU FOR THE HORRIBLE PERSON YOU ARE, LADYBUG. YOU DESERVED TO DIE FOR WHAT YOU DID.”

Realizing what he said, he covered his mouth, hoping it would somehow fix the damage he had done.

Marinette smirked. The picture of innocence gone.

It took a moment for what Adrien’s outburst meant to register in their heads.

Adrien, in an attempt to get back into their good graces, had once claimed to be Chat Noir, the ‘hero’ of Paris. They had brushed him off. If what he had said was correct then that meant that they drove Marinette who was Ladybug to kill herself. Horrible realization sets in as it meant that Hawkmoth won.

Lila chose that moment to came back to the land of the living to scream bloody murder once she saw Marinette again.

The scream brought everyone out of their trance from their shock and started screaming or yelling.

The windows slammed open and the wind whipped. The doors of the classroom closed shut with a loud bang. The clouds were dark outside and there were some flashes of lighting and thunder. (Thank you Longg.)

Marinette’s hair was undone and whipped around her. Her eyes were glowing blue. As she started laughing at the chaos she had unleashed, the class and Mme Bustier ducked for cover and hid under their desks. Except for Adrien and Lila.

Lila, fueled by anger, pounced at the ravenette but was thrown against the classroom wall before she even had a chance to lay a hand. Fell down and appeared to be knocked out. Alya made a move to check up on her.

Adrien was thrown back against the floor when the strong winds started. The scars on his back were burning with a lot of intensity now and it was a miracle that he still hasn’t passed out from the pain.

Unknown to him, the words were glowing red and seen through his shirt. Mme Bustier, Nino, Sabrina and Nathaniel were the few that saw the bright red letters spelling out ‘TRAITOR’ on Adrien’s back as he got back up.

“Marinette, this isn’t you. Milady, please.”

“Shut up.” She flicked her wrist, sending Adrien against the teacher’s desk. He hit it hard and was knocked out like Lila.

Alya after making sure that Lila was fine. “Marinette, stop this. I know that you are probably mad at Adrien for killing you but we never did anything to you.”

“Never did anything?! Never did anything? Hah. What about the time that you slapped me in the face in front of the entire school and said our friendship was over? You called me names. You said that I deserve every bruise you gave me. The rest of you weren’t any better.” She turned around and with the flick of her wrist, the heavy desks were in the air, robbing anyone of a hiding place.

“You stood by and allowed it to happen. You destroyed my stuff, claiming I deserve it. My sketchbook, filled with commissions, torn and stepped on like trash. You all crossed a line that Chloe didn’t even dare and you call it the right thing to do. Hypocrites all of you. Some of you have known me since l'école primaire. What was it about me that you believed her over me?! ”

What happened next was all a blur to everyone, there was a lot of screaming involved, some blood, lightning and thunder everywhere and then, black.

Nino opened his eyes to see Alya peacefully sleeping on her desk. What happened?...Oh Crap I fell asleep. The last thing I remember was….MARINETTE!

Nino snapped his head up. And saw the rest of the class and Mme. Bustier asleep in their respective places.

But there was a sense of wrongness. Something was off... and he can’t pinpoint on what.

The bell rang, startling everyone awake. Nino checked the time. And crap did they all sleep through the first period?! Turning towards his now-awake girlfriend, “Hey Alya, Alya, what do you remember?”

He was surprised to see red eyes like she had been crying. “I- I- I had the weirdest dream. Marinette was there, like she never died and she… why are you looking at me like that?”

“Don’t freak out but I don’t think it was a dream.”

On the rooftop, above the classroom, a red clad figure lounged at the edge with her airpods in and chuckling to herself.

-----

Marinette didn’t torture them. Scared the hell out of them, sure but it was harmless. Mostly. She left carved words on everyone’s wrists which no one else but the class can see. (This one is more mental than anything.)

The scars are unique depending on how close they were to Marinette before she died. Most of the class had the word ‘friend’ crossed out. FRIEND

Nino and Kim had Childhood friends. It serves as a painful reminder of how long they had known the girl.

Alya was a special case with BEST FRIEND and ‘A good reporter always checks her sources’ underneath it. She remembers saying those words to Marinette a long time ago, back when she thought she knew Marinette.

Mme Busitier had Best Teacher and when she was in the comfort of her own home, saw ‘Bully Enabler’ on her other wrist.

Adrien and Lila were questioned as they weren’t the only ones with scars on their wrists. (Although Lila had LIAR written in big letters across her forehead with a sharpie and a drawn-on-moustache of a cartoon villain.)

Nino managed to get the class to back off on Adrien and later to pull him aside to explain about the scars on his back and why did Ladybug (who was apparently Marinette this whole time and she was dead... he thinks.) called him ‘Traitor’?

Adrien told Nino everything. The curse didn’t interfere so for the first time in months, Adrien was able to say the truth.

-----

That was also the day that Lila’s reign finally ended.

The class had suspected for a while about her lies and false promises. There were a few inconsistencies in the beginning that were overlooked and brushed off as Lila’s memory problems.

They all had for the first two years had defended Lila against anyone (mainly Marinette) who thought she was a liar. Lila herself made sure that her lies were believable, actually putting in research for once in her life and planting evidence here and there about her achievements with a few faked articles. They staunchly believed her lies until Marinette’s death.

With her main enemy finally down and everyone else who opposed her, lost their morale along with their ally, Lila stopped putting in the efforts to make her lies seem real and then the cracks of her kingdom began forming.

At first, the students of Mme Bustier class believed them but the stories soon seemed like bragging but they were too polite to point it out to their ‘nice’ and ‘shy’ classmates.

Lila began making mistakes from her lack of research and a few of them later pointed out the few inconsistencies but they were brushed off as memory lapses.

More and more of these ‘memory lapses’ happened more often and soon, most of the class had their suspicion of Lila.

They were just in denial of Lila lying to them.

A few like Max, Nathaniel, Juleka and Sabrina who finally find out that Lila was lying and confront her about it were threatened and they were too afraid to do anything.

After all, Marinette had tried to disprove them and look where she is now. Six feet under.

And the ‘ghost attack’ from Marinette was the final straw.

The class tried to help Lila get rid of the sharpie, especially the one on her forehead and Alya made a comment how it was so typical of Marinette despite being dead and some half-heartedly agreeing.

Max, frustrated that his friends still can’t see it that Lila is a liar and they were the ones who drove Marinette to death that she is now haunting them and it was all their fault, took out his detailed research to disprove Lila’s lies. Nathaniel, Sabrina and Juleka spoke up and brought out their own research. The seeds of doubts which had been planted the past years were finally sprouting

A while later, the entire class was in chaos, everyone was shouting at Lila, some of them were shouting at Adrien, Alya being in complete denial and Mme. Bustier trying to maintain the peace.

Unknown to them, the camera in the classroom was being live streamed to a screen in a room in Le Grand Paris, complete with audio as a group of teenagers watched the chaos unfold.

“You know.” Chloe said, “I thought it was hilarious when you went all bloody mary on them but this shit is way more entertaining.”

Maria smiled, satisfaction on her face as she snatched some popcorn from Alix. “Oh, I had fun. Took years but Lila is finally getting what is coming to her. In about an hour, Signora Rossi is going to come through the door with the police.”

“What did you do, M?”

“Let’s just say the Italian Embassy and the French Police got an anonymous tip this morning about Lila Rossi and the incidents following her around the schools she had attended in the past couple of years.”

“No..” Alix gasped.

Maria just smirked.

-----

Gabriel was freaking out when Adrien came home and told him about what happened to his class.

He did not need another ghost attack on top of everything else.

First, Afterlife had managed to steal some (read: a lot) of Gabriel’s investors and Gabriel’s shares were plummeting.

Secondly, there were a few important documents leaked onto the internet, showing a few suspicious purchases which had the brand and himself under scrutiny.

Third, Natalie told him about her recent condition which occurs during the night and raised a few suspicious glances from Emilie when there was a raven in the house while Gabriel wanted to see proof of this transformation.

Lastly, Emilie had been poking around about the years she was in her coma and it was sheer luck that she hadn't found out about Hawkmoth and connected the dots.

He called up John again to complain that it didn’t work and asked for a refund or face a lawsuit. John pointed out that the spell only worked in the house and kept ghosts out of it and other places were free game.

Needless to say, Gabriel pulled Adrien out of school to be homeschooled again and made sure Emilie stayed inside, no matter what.

The longer Natalie stayed as a raven, the whiter Gabriel’s head of hair became and he was beginning to lose hair at a very fast rate.

----

(Part 7)

I swear I didn't mean to forget tagging you guys.

Taglist: @local-witch-of-mn, @ladyqnoirr, @lolieg, @istoleyourcookies