#how come everyone acts normal after she does this despite them calling medics just seconds earlier? how come she doesn't get her memories

[balteus]

yea actually i think the author of raybearer is bent on messing with me specifically

[hobidreams]

november 1868.

but you’ve always been his, haven’t you?

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: smut, angst words: 2.8k contains: historical au, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship dynamics (but era-appropriate; you know how it goes), explicit sexual content, longing.

moonlit throne index. this is drabble eight. start from the beginning?

If there is one inevitability in life, it is that time goes on.

You, like everyone else under King Yoongi’s reign, simply do your best to survive with your head intact. With the ground now mostly frozen over with ice, you have no reason to visit the gardens, and honestly, it becomes less of a loss by the day. You have your hands full with work; the worsening winter always means a higher possibility of catching an illness for the court ladies, and so you are left with little time to think of the king. Willful ignorance is a powerful defense mechanism when even the mere mention of him brings a frown to your lips and a lingering pressure in your chest.

But it is impossible not to think of him today, on the 11th of November. What would have been Queen Jeonghui’s birthday, but is instead a day of mourning.

All official business has more or less halted for the day. The entire palace is somber, the occupants moving through familiar routines feeling numb from more than just the cold. You are among their number, having finished all the work that could distract you while the sun set. Now, you wander in the pitch dark, through the open corridor towards your quarters with heaviness in every step.

You miss her laugh. The queen had always treated you like one of her own, asking after your interests, new discoveries, and health even while her own dwindled. You miss hearing the stories of her surprisingly rambunctious life before she came to court. You miss the brightness in her voice when she spoke of the hopes she had for the future of the kingdom, and for her precious Yoongi. You blink away a tear as your journey comes to its end.

In your small but private room, you begin to undo the straps of your hanbok with the relieving sense that this day is almost over. Stripped to your undergarments, you’re eager to crawl beneath the warm blankets and let blissful sleep take you into tomorrow as soon as your eyes shut.

Except sleep is not easily persuaded to come tonight, as you soon learn.

Even when you force your body to stay still as long as possible, even when you try to block out all thought and simply imagine blankness before you, you remain no closer to dreams, forcibly stuck in this bleak reality. That’s when your exhausted mind begins to wander to places most dangerous, even though you already vowed to stay far, far away.

You wonder whether the king is alone in his grief tonight. Has he eaten properly, or has he completely shut himself away? Does he even have enough heart left to mourn from all you’ve witnessed these past months?

(This last thought is what makes you ache the most, despite yourself.)

Then a quiet voice mutters your name from outside.

You blink and look up, uncertain whether it was just the wind. Who would it be at this late hour anyway? Who would be so bold as to call your name and not your title? But then the sound comes again, louder this time with some impatience in the syllables, and you realize exactly whose voice it must be.

Scrambling to your feet with the chill of losing the blanket sweeping over you, you have a split second to decide between keeping him waiting and having a proper appearance. You land somewhere in the middle, pulling on a loose, long jeogori that was once your mother’s before throwing the door wide open before you can think it through.

Damn all the odds.

It really is him.

In the moonlight, his hair seems almost ethereal with the way most of it cascades loosely around his shoulders. It’s fine, pale gold, spilling across the crimson dye of the royal robes that have been left slacker than is normally allowed in public company. There’s still a hardness in those midnight eyes, a set obstinacy in lips twisted down for a scowl that seems all too inherent to him now.

“Jeonha,” you exhale, more breath than sound.

How are you meant to receive him after all that has happened?

Wordlessly, he moves forward. You flatten yourself against the wall to allow him entry into your tiny home, your world without question, just like you always have. His sleeves brush past you as he walks and the incredibly subtle scent of plum blossoms begins to swirl around the air, so familiar it brings a hot sting to your eyes in an instant.

“Is that—”

“Shut the door.” His voice is biting, forcing you to drop the question.

You have little choice in the matter. When you turn back to face him, this room feels about three times smaller with the imposing aura that emanates from him. He has never felt more like a king to you than now, staring at you down his nose like he holds your life in his palm. At this distance, you fear he can hear the palpitations of your treacherous heart.

“Um.” You involuntarily wrap your hands around your stomach, trying to calm the jitters. “…How may I help you, jeonha?”

His lips curl in a smirk, but there is no real humor in it. “You must know the only thing a man and woman can do alone at night?”

Surprise is so blatant on your face that it amuses him; the smirk grows wider but remains empty still.

“You— You wish to do that?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Did you or did you not say to come if I had anything I required?”

He remembered. He knew it was you. A part of you thaws, just an inch.

“Still— Must… Must it be tonight?” Of all nights.

“It has to be.”

You swallow, dry. All you know of the act are the medical descriptions and consequences of such copulation as written out in your studied texts. To think of such a thing occurring in real life— to even consider it with the king! It was beyond your wildest thoughts, even when you used to let your childhood fantasies soar. But even more ludicrous than that, for him to consider being with you, a mere uinyeo when all the ministers routinely brought their high-born daughters to court in hopes of tempting him… “W-What of the court ladies, the ones waiting to be made concubine…?”

At your last word, he scowls like a bolt of lightning, gone before you can confirm that it was there at all. “I see.” He shifts, as if already prepared to leave. “I should have gone to them first.”

Your stomach drops.

The prospect of a random woman wrapping herself around him in seduction, holding him closer than he’s ever been to you… You wince. The mere thought of how he might fit against her, leave a part of himself inside her body, strikes envy deep into your mind. Especially when you consider all that could follow such an intimate act.

You know it’s not your place to be so concerned; it never has been, but damn it. Here he is in front of you, and not them. That has to mean something.

“No!” You blurt out, and watch his face darken with satisfaction. That in itself makes you fiercely aware of how much he has changed but still, you say, “no. Don’t… don’t go.”

In a stroke of boldness, you slip the jacket from your shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

“Good girl.”

It all happens so quickly.

Grasping your arm, he brings you to him with one strong tug. Invades your space with his heat. You’ve never been this physically close before but you are given no time to savor it. Your eyes search his for a hapless second before he forces his gaze away with a light whip of his hair. For a second, you think like he might kiss you, but that particular touch never comes.

“Bed.” The air around the word makes it sound like he’s rushing as he pulls you both towards the mussed bedspread, but of course it’s not that. It’s almost laughable, the thought that he would want so badly to claim you as his. It’s more likely that he wants any warm body beneath him, and you happened to be the most convenient.

As he pushes you to the floor, as he begins to strip you of your undergarments, your mind struggles to set aside your worries and the rest of the world with it to focus on the feeling of his unobstructed fingers on the skin he reveals with each passing second. For a moment, it works. For a moment, all you know is the heat of his desire as he throws aside most of your coverings, then discards his own as if they were nothing more than cleaning rags. Staring at his bare body for the first time, you take in all the lean muscle that make up his chest, the paleness of his skin that brings to mind the word delicate. It’s at complete odds with the ugliness that’s surrounded him for so long and really, you don’t know what to believe anymore as he rakes his eyes over you too.

You’re shivering. Keenly aware of your nakedness, made even more stark when your king practically fixes you to the floor with his presence alone. He must know this is all new to you, that he’s the only one able to put you in this position even after everything he’s done. But will that afford you the tenderness you so crave? Your pulse thunders in your ears as you await the answer.

“Turn over. On your hands and knees.”

Your breath hitches.

He doesn’t even want to look at your face.

You choke back the emotion that yearns to spill over, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing exactly how he affects you when he doesn’t allow you the same luxury. You’re stronger than this, even though your fears have just been confirmed. That this, his broad hand harshly squeezing your ass, is the only reason he broke through the thick wall of silence between you. That he treats you just like any other woman, not one he’s known all his life.

What does it say about you that you’re still willing to give him everything?

His other hand trails down your back as if lightly scratching an invisible character there. Then, when he reaches for your sokgot, the last bit of cloth left to you, it truly hits you that there will be no going back from this. Not after he physically carves himself into your memory. It makes you unthinkingly tense up; in turn, the hands against you stutter to a pause.

The silence feels thick, smothering. Then—

“Are you afraid of me?”

“No.”

You say it before you can decide whether it’s the truth or merely what you wish would be the truth.

“Hm.”

He leaves you wondering if that was the answer he wanted and resumes, undoing the ties, pulling away the layer that wants to cling to the slight wetness between your thighs. Evidently not one for wasting time, and why would he linger when he just wants an easy release anyway, he runs the tip of his thumb down your slit before pushing eagerly into your heat. The lewd moan that you emit is a noise you’ve never made before, and it makes your face burn with shyness.

You’ve touched yourself like this perhaps three times ever, more out of medical curiosity than anything. You didn’t quite see a point in it when it just left you feeling lonely once the high faded. But under your king’s control, it feels maddeningly new. Maybe it’s because you don’t know what he’s going to do next, like when he suddenly pushes in a second finger and you feel the spike of pain work its way through your limbs before giving way to the next wave of pressure. It’s just almost too much to take, his insistent kneading against your dripping walls.

“Your cunt is so fucking tight. Just for me? Only take my fingers like this?” He feeds you another finger when you nod, huffing a smirk at your whine. The unfamiliar words are as harsh as his hands. You’ve never heard him like this, so rough and cocksure, practically an utter stranger. But a stranger could never bring out such overwhelming emotions in your chest, your poor, confined heart.

Your legs are soon shaking with the strain of holding up your weight when pleasure and pain war so intensely in your body; but you don’t dare collapse in surrender, even though this has always been a losing battle. Not even when he rears back, replacing his cream-slick hand with what you think is the blunt head of his cock. He whets it along your folds and it feels so much thicker, intimidating like the rest of him. But you want it. You realize then just how much you want it, even if this is all you’ll have of him when it’s over.

He leans over you, hot breath whisking across your back, a palm on your hip. “I’m your first.” It sounds like a boast. “No one else.”

“No.” You shake your head. “No one else.”

And he takes his first stroke.

Hisses when he feels you squeeze around him, and you wonder if this is his first time too. Then you have to force yourself to stop thinking about that altogether, afraid that the real answer might hurt more than this: the ache of being spread apart with every brutal, solid inch, filled too quickly by a man who doesn’t seem like he could take things slow even if he wanted to. He keeps shoving forward, biting down every surfacing grunt as his nails dig into your waist and it hurts. It hurts so much but you grit your teeth, refusing to back down because you need him to know that you can take this. Even when your mouth feels drier with every yelp, every moan, you tell yourself it’ll be easier the next time he wants to have his way with you. Right now, that seems better than not feeling him at all.

“This cunt,” he finally growls when he bottoms out, for once sounding so unbridled that goosebumps speed down your weakening arms. But you find yourself liking the sound, craving it even as he pauses to catch his breath.

The first few thrusts are slightly awkward. Just his hips bumping against your ass as he tries to find his footing. It doesn’t take long until he picks up a rhythm. Starts to slam into you, jolting you forward. Soreness starts to grow exponentially with a foreign feeling you think might just be pleasure spreading throughout all of you. You concentrate on that in lieu of your knees forced repeatedly against the hardness of the wooden floor, the bedding too thin to provide any real comfort.

“Jeonha,” you gasp on a particularly deep thrust, and he seems to like that. Strokes faster in response (or perhaps reward). You don’t even register that you’re half-smiling when he does, having learned something about him that is privy to only the two of you.

On top of that, he can’t seem to stop touching you. It goes beyond the way he fucks into you, more into how he can’t stop exploring the expanse of your back with his nails or with his mouth, sucking stinging marks into your body. It’s as if he needs to have as much skin contact with you as he will allow himself, needs to feel your warmth just as much as you crave his. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking, but you try again with a hoarse, “jeonha.” He gives it to you harder, rousing, stoking that dangerous tension.

You don’t even notice his mouth beside your ear until— “Mine.”

He claims you, and something inside you melts. Not a particularly powerful feeling but a sea change nonetheless, a weak peak that ripples out, thrums through you both. He allows you to submit to the sensation for a few scarce seconds before he tears himself away, leaving you to pulse around nothing, whimpering from the emptiness. You barely recognize the sound of skin on skin friction but suddenly, heat splatters across your back, white painting itself over your skin as he gives one, elongated exhale and it’s over.

The king backs up, shifts away. Lets any lingering warmth between you dissipate into the ice air of winter, but this time he holds your gaze with a certain firmness, as if trying to pluck out the slivers of truth in your expression. In his eyes, the thin scar ever carved down the right, you find only more depths. Fathomless, endless depths – dark and painful still.

[goldentournesol]

The Receptionist and the Profiler (Six)

Chapter Six: Lifted Burdens

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

The word reverberated around her brain for days after she heard it. Her brain was mocking her and she knew it.

Girlfriend. Girlfriend. My girlfriend.

Over and over again.

A heartbroken Y/N went home that day to an extremely livid Penelope. Y/N was the one calming her down instead of the other way around.

“How could he be so stupid?! I mean, he’s a genius, but he’s still the stupidest person I’ve ever met! Oh my God, I’m gonna kill him! A girlfriend?! He’s out of his mind!”

And although Y/N agreed with every single word Penelope’d said, there was little she could do about it now. She had shown Ashley around just like she had with every other new agent. It would have been a lot easier to hate her if she wasn’t so...nice. You know, even though her father was a serial killer and all.

She was so normal. And Spencer seemed happy around her. That’s all she could ever ask for, right? So why was it still so painful every time the three of them were in a room together? Why was avoiding all the team members’ apologetic stares as they witnessed a moment between the couple turning into a sport? Well, she knew exactly why, but she didn’t really want to give that thought the time of day.

Derek was almost as livid as Penelope when he’d learned of the new relationship. It took everything in his power to not chew Spencer out.

Spencer, on the other hand, was convinced that this was the only way he’d ever get to get over Y/N. Besides, she’s married now, what’s everyone so upset for? Is his happiness too much to ask for? Although, he did find it odd that Y/N wasn’t wearing rings on any of her fingers. He would have thought that a newlywed wife would have been much more excited to show off her ring. It was also quite strange to hear that Anderson transferred to a different unit. But he stopped himself from thinking about her too much anyway. Stopped himself from thinking about how much her eyes stopped twinkling as much as they used to. Or how her smile always seemed a little less bright than he was used to.

Stop, Spencer. You have Ashley now. He reminded himself.

Ashley was a nice girl. They’d met a few times before they began dating. He first met her when Rossi took him to the Academy to speak with some of the recruits who were interested in joining the BAU. Then, after that, he’d ran into her while he was guest-lecturing at her university. She’d been taking extra classes to get her degree faster and ever since then, they’d kept in contact. They’d met again while Spencer was on his medical leave. He had practically begged Rossi to take him to any lectures. Despite being a homebody through and through, Spencer had had enough of sitting at home waiting for his knee to heal. He needed to get out of the house and do something. Ashley had been the one to suggest a date and Spencer was shocked to say the least, but he accepted. Who was he to deny a pretty girl a date when the love of his life was already married?

Coming back to work was exciting to say the least, even if he wasn’t authorized to go into the field yet. The rest of the team still had to go though, which made the bullpen kind of eerily quiet.

He tried to spend most of his time in Garcia’s batcave to be able to be a part of any video calls with the team, despite the fact that Garcia could barely look at him without wanting to crush the rest of his bones (it’s all in the name of love, she swears). Him being in Garcia’s cave made it practically impossible for Y/N to go in there as often as she normally would. She’d normally spend her entire breaktime with her, they’d chat, eat, and watch kitten videos on repeat. But now Dr. Genius was occupying her space there and it left Y/N sulking out in the empty bullpen. 

Now, Spencer wasn’t completely oblivious to the way the team was acting around him. He’d noticed a decrease in Penelope’s affectionate terms, he’d noticed Derek’s disapproving stares, even JJ was being short with him. Maybe it had something to do with him dating the new agent.

“Hey, Garcia?” Spencer asked from his seat next to her, he was currently going over a case file as she sorted through VICAP.

“Yes, Reid?” She asked, obviously not paying attention.

“Do you guys um, not like Ashley or something?” He asked tentatively, fiddling with his pen between his fingers. That got her attention because she turned in her chair and looked at him.

“What gave you that idea?” She asked with signature Garcia concern.

Spencer shrugged and pursed his lips together, “I don’t know, you’ve all just been acting super weird since I got back and every time I’m with her around you guys it’s super awkward.”

He saw Garcia take a deep breath and she slumped her shoulders, “No, Reid, we do like her a lot. I guess you can say we just weren’t expecting it. I mean, you’d just gotten shot and then came back with a girlfriend, it was kind of...surprising.”

“Why is it so surprising? Is it so surprising that someone actually finds me interesting?” Spencer almost scoffed, that had come out way meaner than he’d intended.

“No, of course that’s not what I meant, you know that!” She exclaimed, tears already threatening her eyes, “It’s just...we all thought it would...y’know, take you a while to get over Y/N.” She tiptoed around what she really wanted to say. Spencer held back a roll of his eyes.

“Well, I am. So...so you can all stop being so weird. Besides, what does it matter how long it takes me to get over her? She’s married now, remember?” Spencer said, not even trying to hide the bitterness behind his voice.

Garcia’s face drained of all emotion all at once, “What?”

Spencer analyzed her expression before shrugging, “What?” He asked, feeling like he was missing something.

Suddenly, she began laughing in disbelief, “No, no, no. There’s no way.”

Spencer’s impatience and irritability grew, “What are you talking about?”

“Spencer! Y/N has been living with me for the past 3 weeks, you big idiot! I’m not saying anything more to you. You need to be talking to her right now, not me.” He felt as though his brain took ages to process what she’d told him.

“What...why would she be living with you?” He asked, his brain raking through all the possibilities. Garcia shook her head and refrained from speaking to him for the rest of the day. The dread set in as he realized.

He’d only seen Y/N at her desk whenever he had to leave the batcave for something. Most times she’d just send him a polite smile but they rarely engaged in any conversation. Her energy has been cut in half lately. 

Near the end of the day, Spencer trudged all the way to the kitchenette on his crutches to make himself a fresh cup of coffee. While reaching up to grab his mug, he tried to balance on his crutches but was still very wobbly. The result of his wobbliness was a shattered mug on the floor of the BAU’s kitchenette. Spencer winced at the sound and sighed a deep sigh.

He heard quick footsteps to where he was, “Is everything okay? Are you hurt?” Y/N stood in front of him, taking in the scene. He hadn’t heard her voice in days, it was the closest thing he’d felt to relief hearing from her again.

“I-I’m okay, I just dropped a mug while trying to make a cup of coffee.” He huffed frustratedly, upset that his mobility was compromised.

“Spence, next time you can just ask me or something--or someone else, it doesn’t have to be me, but I mean, I don’t mind doing it, if you asked.” She stumbled lightly on her words, cheeks reddening. Spencer smiled in response and nodded, touched at her kindness, “Now, step back and let me help you clean this up before someone gets hurt.” 

Spencer took a step back, the feeling of guilt overwhelming him as he watched her pick up the pieces and sweep the floor, “I’m sorry...about that. You didn’t have to help me out, thank you.”

Her face cracked a smile and Spencer felt the hunch in his shoulders loosen slightly, “Come on, it’s really nothing. How’s the um, knee?” She pointed slightly as she brought down another mug and began to fill it with coffee for him.

He sighed, “It’s not great. It hurts sometimes, like a lot, but it could have been worse I guess.” He shrugged, unable to keep his eyes off her captivating face. If he thought the science of reading microexpressions was interesting, reading her face was on a whole other level.

“I’m sorry, Spence, I really hope you feel better soon.” She spoke while adding the perfect amount of cream and sugar. He could tell that there was something weighing on her heavily as she seemed to drift further away as she watched the swirls of the cream dance in the mug.

“Thanks, Y/N/N. Um, what about you? Are you okay?” He asked, noting the way she immediately snapped back into shape almost as if she’d been caught slipping. Her facade was back on as if it hadn’t slipped for a nanosecond.

“Yeah! I’m great.” She smiled, not meeting his eyes, Spencer was about to ask about her current living situation when she spoke quickly, not leaving a pause, “How about I walk this back to your desk for you?”

“Um, you don’t have to do that. I can take it.” Spencer frowned, feeling already guilty enough. 

She giggled slightly, purposefully glancing at both his hands wrapped around his crutches, ��Got a third hand I don’t know about, Spence?”

Spencer grinned in defeat, realizing what she meant, “Right…” He sheepishly began to walk back to his desk, is Garcia needed him she would call. She set the cup down and flashed him a smile before turning around and walking right back to her desk where she stood for a few seconds as if contemplating something then continued on in the direction of Garcia’s office.

“Garcia...I did something bad.” She confessed sheepishly stepping into the office and closing the door behind her, feeling somewhat like a child who hadn’t followed instructions. 

Garcia turned around in her chair, “Oh no, sweets, what happened?”

“I talked to him…” She flopped down onto the chair next to Garcia’s and pouted. Garcia couldn’t hide her smile and shook her head.

“And…?” Garcia looked expectantly at her.

“I don’t think I can ever get over him, Pen.” She suddenly frowned, picking at a frayed thread on her skirt.

“Well it’s not gonna happen overnight, sugarplum. Tell you what, why don’t we have a girls night out when the team gets back tonight. Maybe you could get a little lovin’.” Garcia added suggestively but Y/N rolled her eyes and huffed playfully in response.

“Yes to girls night, no to getting any “lovin’”, I don’t think my heart can physically handle anything else.”

“Ughh, alright. But um...there’s something you should know…” Garcia began.

“What is it?” Y/N pushed.

“So...you know how Reid is a certified genius and stuff...yeah...he’s quite possibly the most obtuse man I’ve ever met.” Garcia spoke.

“Yes, we know this, what is it, Pen?” Y/N asked, growing more impatient and anxious.

“I found out today that he had absolutely zero clue that you called off the wedding.” She said.

“What do you mean? How did he not know?” Y/N almost laughed at the absurdity.

“I guess no one told him. I think we all got so caught up with him getting shot that no one told him. Y/N, I’m telling you, up until 1:22 pm today, he thought you were married to Grant Anderson.” Y/N almost grimaced at the mention of her almost-husband.

“Well, what good is it now, he’s got little miss Ashley, who, by the way, IS NOT invited to girls’ night.”

But she was, of course she was. But it wasn’t just her, oh no, the entirety of the BAU had invited themselves out.

Everyone was stuck in their own little conversations around the table and Y/N felt like the odd one out. She looked up from her glass to see Rossi and Hotch deep in conversation, Derek and Penelope were in the middle of a story to which Emily and JJ were listening intently, and finally, the cherry on top, sitting directly across from her, was Spencer and his precious Ashley sitting practically glued at the hip with his arm around her shoulders. This was supposed to be a girls’ night out, and here Y/N was, feeling as miserable and insignificant as ever.

“I’ll be right back.” She said to no one in particular as she got up from the table, not that anyone noticed or heard. Spencer caught her leaving out of the side of his field of vision but Ashley quickly began telling him another story. Y/N had almost made it out of the bar when a familiar voice stopped her.

“Y/N, hey!” She turned to see none other than Anderson himself, looking quite put together and smiling very largely at her.

“Hey! Um, you out here too?” She smiled awkwardly and looked around for his friends.

“Yeah, came out for drinks with the guys from the White Collar Crimes division. Hey, you should come say hi.” He nodded his head towards a table full of men. Y/N glanced back at her table and saw that no one was looking for her so she shrugged and agreed.

She sat at the table and they all immediately brought her into the conversation, which made her mood lift significantly.

Had Grant always been this funny? She thought. As the guys settled down after their stories, Grant turned to Y/N.

“Can I get you a drink?” He offered nicely and she thought about it. She spent 11 years with this man, what could one drink possibly do? 

As they sat at the bar and chatted, Y/N noticed that Grant was being extra gentlemanly and just...nice.

“So, yeah, this is my life now.” He tilted his beer at the table they were at previously.

“They’re really nice guys, I’m glad you’re happy at work.” She smiled and nodded. Grant smiled back and studied her for a moment.

“Um, so...I was wondering...I mean, do you...are you still sure about all this?” He gestured between them, “It’s just that we get on so well and I um, really wouldn’t mind doing it all over again for you.” He ended his sentence with a genuine smile. 

Y/N’s smile faltered from a grin to a sad smile, her eyes flitting across the bar to look for Spencer, who had been keeping a close eye on her since she left in case she was in trouble. Their eyes met for a moment but nothing longer.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” She nodded with finality. Grant followed her eye-line and felt some jealousy stirring up inside.

“Wait--is this all about Reid?” Grant stared at her incredulously.

“What?! No! Of course it isn’t. We weren’t working out, I already told you.” She defended quickly, but Grant was unconvinced. He gave her a look and she avoided his eyes, “Me and Spencer are just friends, I promise. We kissed like, once, it didn’t even mean anything.”

“You kissed? When?!” Grant’s eyes immediately filled with rage, looking across the bar.

“It doesn’t matter, look, can we just step outside for a second, get some fresh air?” She tried to reason with him but before she knew it, Grant was out of the bar stool and marching his way over to the BAU’s table. Y/N followed him quickly, trying to minimize any damages.

“REID!” Grant yelled in the small bar, quickly alerting all the agents. Spencer’s worried eyes flitted to Y/N’s.

In one swift motion, Grant lunged forward to attack a still-seated Spencer, eliciting a frightened yelp from Ashley next to him. 

But thankfully, Derek was much quicker than Grant and effectively took him down yelling, “What the hell is wrong with you, man?” 

Hotch and Rossi visibly relaxed upon watching Derek drag a livid Grant outside the bar. Mortified, Y/N grabbed her things and ran out, unable to meet any of their eyes. She flagged a cab and tried to stop the sobs from tumbling out of her.

Needless to say, the next month was the most awkward month she’d ever been through. Anderson was lucky he’d only been suspended without pay and not actually arrested for attempted assault of an FBI agent. She was downright mortified after what had happened at the bar and had fully retreated into herself, having finally moved out into her own apartment. Her pickiness ended when she realized she couldn’t stay with Garcia anymore.

 Even JJ had tried multiple times to set her up with one of Will’s friends, but Y/N always refused. Invites to bar nights were turned down and ignored. Her days consisted of waking up, going to work, coming back home, pretending to unpack but in reality avoiding it and ending up sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream. The entire team felt for her, but Spencer especially felt for her as well as felt like an absolute moron. Not about what had happened at the bar, he didn’t really care if Anderson had beat him up, maybe he deserved it for making her feel this way. 

He watched curiously from his desk as Derek and Penelope walked through the glass doors of the BAU and stood at her desk. Penelope placed a heavy cookie tin on the raised part of the receptionist’s desk, the sound making Y/N look up from her computer.

“Morning, lil’ mama.” Derek grinned at her.

“Morning, D. Hey, Pen. What are you two up to?” Y/N’s gaze shifted between them suspiciously, “And what’s this?” She referred to the cookie tin.

“Oh, you know, just your favorite homemade chocolate chip cookies.” Garcia said with a smile. She watched as Y/N’s face lit up and immediately reached for the tin but Penelope held it securely.

“Uh-uh-uhh,” Derek taunted with a smirk.

“What? Why can’t I have the cookies?” Y/N huffed.

“These, my love, are a bribe and I’m not afraid to admit it.” Penelope said with a dramatic upturn of her chin.

“Oh no.” Y/N said.

“Oh yes.” Derek and Penelope both said. When Y/N rolled her eyes and was about to refuse, Penelope opened the top of the tin and Y/N took a peek and was hit by a whiff of heavenly chocolate chips.

“Fine, I will listen to your offer, but no promises.” She tried to stay strong even though the scent of the cookies was already driving her mad.

“We thought you might say that, which is why the entire tin is the bribe.” Derek said smoothly and Y/N’s jaw dropped.

“That is low, chocolate thunder!” She exclaimed and Spencer unwillingly smiled at her reaction.

“Anyway, you get this entire tin of cookies IF you agree to come to Rossi’s tonight.” Penelope offered and Y/N paused to think about it.

“I don’t know, Pen…” Y/N began.

“Come on, pretty girl, we miss you. You haven’t been out in ages.” Derek tried. Y/N’s heart pulled in her chest, maybe she did miss them too.

“Alright, fine, fine! I’ll come.” Y/N crossed her arms, trying to hide her smile as Derek and Penelope celebrated with a hug and a cheer, “Now, give me these!” She stood and grabbed a cookie, quickly taking a bite and visibly melting back into her chair from the taste.

“See? I told you that would work. No one can say no to my cookies.” Penelope whispered to Derek as they separated to begin their days.

She finally got some motivation to empty her bags and boxes when she returned to her apartment. It was mainly because she had to look for an appropriate outfit to wear. Ever since she’d moved, she’d been picking out her work clothes and pajamas from her suitcases, rewearing all the blouses and skirts that don’t need ironing, but it’s time to start taking care of herself again. Perhaps she felt like the clothes she was wearing didn’t belong to her anymore, she decided that she’d take herself shopping soon. After a relaxing shower, she picked out a black satin blouse and tucked it into a pair of fitting blue jeans.

Arriving at Rossi’s, she took a deep breath before ringing the bell.

“Ciao, bella!” Rossi graciously greeted, hugging her tightly, “We’re all so glad you could make it. Come on in, dinner is almost ready.” Rossi’s warm greeting eased the anxiety that bubbled in her chest. She was also greeted warmly by everyone in the room when she walked in. Penelope pulled her to sit next to her immediately.

“You look stunning!” Penelope complemented, making Y/N blush.

“I agree, you are looking hot as hell, mama.” Derek chipped in, making her laugh.

“Oh, hush, you two.” Y/N rolled her eyes and accepted the glass of wine that Emily offered her. She sipped on the wine, glancing at Spencer over the rim of the glass. He caught her eye and sent her a small smile. Y/N sent him a small one back before feeling herself shut down as everyone around her started conversations. She hadn’t noticed just how much she depended on Spencer for conversation in outings with the BAU until his attention was taken away. He would always stick to her side but now he had someone else’s side to stick to. With no Anderson and no Spencer, she really had to fend for herself. All night, she felt this indescribable weight on her shoulders. She did everything to try to get rid of it.

Soon, one glass of wine with dinner turned into two, then somehow turned into two rounds of whiskey. Before she knew it, she was up dancing with Derek and Penelope in the middle of the garden. They all had migrated into the backyard after dinner, where most people were chatting and eating dessert.

“Spencer, are you listening to me?” Ashley’s voice cut through Spencer’s daze.

“I’m sorry, what?” Spencer turned to her, he’d been caught up watching them dance, secretly wishing it was him she was grabbing onto for support instead of Derek. If it wasn’t for his damn knee, he would have joined them in dancing.

“I asked you if you wanted another slice of cake.” Ashley said, with a small smile on her face. She was nice, but she wasn’t her.

“Oh, no thanks, I’m good.” He shook his head and reverted his attention to the dancing trio. She was finally smiling, he hadn’t seen her smile that wide in so long. Her laugh was heard across the garden and somehow it seeped right into Spencer’s bloodstream. The familiar feeling of jealousy creeped up on Spencer as he watched her twirl herself in and out of Derek’s arms.

“See? Aren’t you glad you came out tonight?” Derek smiled as she twirled back against his chest. 

She nodded and smiled, a tad bit too tipsy, “Yeah, I guess.”

Penelope grinned and pulled her away from Derek, “Alright! Quit hogging her, I wanna dance with her too!” Y/N laughed and wrapped her arms around Penelope, burying her face in her shoulder.

“Thank you for everything, Pen.” They swayed and Penelope squeezed her harder.

“Anytime, sugarplum.”

“Alright, I’m just about beat. I need some dessert.” Y/N said, pulling back and dragging them both to where everyone was.

While eating dessert, she watched as Spencer continued to converse with Ashley and felt her blood boiling beneath her skin. Or maybe that was the alcohol, she wasn’t sure. It was like a cloak of clarity cascaded upon her. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of everyone and speaking loudly, loud enough to halt the ongoing conversations. With her eyes on Spencer, she only ever had her eyes on Spencer.

“Spencer, I called off my wedding because of you. And now we’re not even friends. You were my best friend, the closest person to me. I don’t know what happened, but I miss you. I don’t want things to ever be this weird between us again. And--and I shouldn’t have been with Grant, I know that. There were so many reasons not to marry him, but the truth is I was ready to ignore every single one until I met you. I asked myself why I waited so long to get married and I thought I just wasn’t ready but I knew I didn’t want him,” she paused to swallow, her tears blurring her vision, “I want you. And now you’re with someone else, and that’s fine. She’s wonderful and she makes you happy and that’s fine,” A few tears escaped and she realized what she was doing, “and I think I’m drunk and I shouldn’t be driving home so if someone could drop me off that would be great.” She dropped her plate on the table and quickly made it inside, leaving a group of agents completely stunned.

And just like that, the weight she’d grown so accustomed to seemed to dissipate from its place on her shoulders.

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[wolfs-hunt1]

Wolf Kisses 1

Pairing: Stucky x Shapeshifter reader

Summary: Steve and Bucky are out in a mission when they find a lone giant wolf that had been hurt (I can’t do summaries, this sucks I have no idea what to write here)

Word count: 2063

Warnings: mentions of blood, Steve and Bucky are in an established relationship already

A/N: Just a small series, I’m not sure how big it’s going to get or where exactly I want to take this, but I hope to figure it out this week while writing the next chapter, but hopefully, I’ll keep to the schedule and post the next one next week.

Tag list is OPEN

— — — — —

Despite the warmth of the tactical suit, the cold was still nipping at Steve’s extremities. Bucky was huddled up on a blanket, vibranium arm outside so as not to risk touching the freezing appendage to his skin at all.

The small cottage they were holed up in did nothing to stop the howling wind outside, the snowstorm making them have to call off the jet and stay at the safe house for more time than they had planned.

They had just returned from the mission when the snowstorm hit, almost cutting communications with the rest of the team before they could let them know they would be staying until the storm blew over.

The cottage only had a small bedroom with a queen-sized bed and a dresser pushed to the side, and an even smaller bathroom, that connected to the bedroom and living room. One of the walls of the living room was a pantry and the other, pushed a bit in, was a small kitchen. There was a small wood burner and a beaten-up couch on the otherwise baren room. It was a comfortable living space for one person, but for the two super-soldiers, it was a tight fit.

Steve was spacing out, looking outside the window for the whisps of snow rushing on the wind, a warm mug of hot chocolate between his hands. He only nodded once when Bucky told him he was going to bed and kissed the top of his head, ruffling his messy hair before leaving the room.

A loud crash on the outside made Steve jump to his feet in a second, Bucky rushing from the bedroom a few seconds later.

“What was that?” he whispered to the blond, trying to take a look out the window but seeing nothing more than the falling snow.

“It seems to have come from the shed.” Steve moves to the door, picking up his shield in the process, and slowly opened the door, snow blowing inside the small space until Bucky closed the door behind him on his way out. There was a fading trail of fresh blood on the cristal white snow, leading to the shed on the back of the house, making the two super soldiers get ready for a possible ambush.

The trail was getting thicker, despite the falling snow trying to cover it up, and of a sudden, there was another crash, followed by whimpering howls. This made them both rush inside the small shed, logs for the fire were strewn across the place, having fallen from their previous neet pile, a mass of fur with dark red streaks across it was lying on the floor.

The small space was flooded with light once Bucky reached for the overhead bulb, allowing them to see what had happened. A greyish wolf, bigger than normal, was squirming on the floor, a hunters trap on his back leg, ripping the flesh apart with every movement the creature made. It started to growl at them once they tried to approach it, but despite the halfhearted snaps of its maws, the wolf didn’t make an attempt to push them away.

Steve was cooing gently at it, and whispering they weren’t there to hurt it, while bucky approached the serrated trap, and after making sure the wolf was distracted by Steve and not looking his way he put his fingers around it and pulled, opening the rusty thing up while the wolf pulled his leg closer to his body from the pain, loud whimpers and cries blending in with the wind blowing outside.

“We have to clean up that wound or it will only get infected.” Bucky says, while Steve crouches down and gently picks up the wolf, bringing it to the couch inside. Bucky rushes to the pantry, picking up the medkit and some spare sheets they can use so as not to stain the couch with the warm blood rushing out from the wound.

Bucky lays down the sheet so that Steve can put the wold on top of it, it’s body bigger than the couch itself. They open the packaged of gauze and the bottle of antiseptic so they could disinfect the wound properly. The silver fur of the wolf was tacky and clumped at some places, like it had been running through the woods and not sidestepping any obstacles.

The gaping wound is deep, almost ripping the entire muscles until it reached the bone, it would need sticking, and urgent medical care. The best they could do was stitch the bigger gaps and wrap it up so that they could take it to a vet once they were out of the cabin.

Once the wound is properly taken care of, and wrapped in gauze, they try to give some water to the wolf and feed it tiny bits of beef they found in the freezer laced with pain meds. They both go to bed late that night, but they wanted to make sure the wolf was in the least pain possible.

They are both dead asleep, Steve’s arm slung over Bucky’s chest, and their legs entwine when they wake up with a start. A heavyweight being dropped on them both and fur smothering their noses. The wolf, a female they had found out, was laying on top of their chests, snout trying to go under the blankets for more warmth. A small whine came from her when she couldn’t get inside the blanket enough.

Steve started to chuckle at the sight of the big wolf behaving like a child and tried to pry the blanket so that the wolf could get in the bed with them. “You need to get off if you want…” and just as if the wolf could understand them she climbed off from them and waited patiently on the side of the bed for Steve to open up the blanked and she could snuggle to Bucky’s side. Bucky smiled and buried his face on the soft fur of her neck, hugging her closer to his chest.

Bucky was getting cold. Which was odd because he distinctly remembered falling asleep between soft fur and the furnace that was Steve. He could still feel Steve at his back, but the warm fur he remembered raking his fingers over was gone. He opened his eyes to see the empty space in front of him. The sheets were stained with blood and that made his heart run faster, taking off the covers and speeding to the living room.

She was there, on the floor, chewing a piece of beef, bandages bloodied and coming off. He let out a breath and reach forward, petting her behind her ears. She let out a little throaty sound and went back to heating the raw meet.

“Gonna have to change that…” he sais pointing at her leg. “Don’t’ bite my hand off, I only have one left and would like to keep it that way.” he jests chuckling and the wolf lets out some puffs of air, almost like laughter. He looks at her for a while. It wasn’t the first time she had acted weird, but he had never really been so long with a wolf to know what was standard behavior or not.

He grabs the medkit from the couch and started to work on her leg while she ate, at least her mouth was busy, and that could prove less chance of bites on his behalf. Steve wakes up not long after, kisses Bucky, and moves to start on coffee for both of them. The storm was still raging on outside, so they would have to wait longer before the jet could pick them up to return home.

Not that Bucky minded. He and Steve hadn’t had alone vacations in a while, and this could be their alone time. Well… alone plus a wolf.

Once the coffee was made Steve and Bucky sat cuddling on the couch and just talking when they notice the wolf limping to the front door and scratching on the wood, letting out a gruffed bark and looking at them pointedly.

“I think she wants to be let out Steve.” Steve sighs and disentangles his body from Bucky’s, walking to the door and opening it just enough to let her slink out, but not enough to let the snowflakes in, before he closes it back up. She stays out for about twenty minutes before they hear a muted scratching sound.

Only the next day does the storm starts to show signs of stopping, and so they arrange for a jet to come to pick them up, and also tell Tony that they’ll be taking an injured wolf back with them.

They spend their last day just randomly making out on the couch or in bed, reminiscing of the days they were reckless teenagers and did the same. She didn’t come to sleep with them that night, staying in the living room looking sadly out one of the windows.

—

Back at the compound, the wolf is rushed to the med bay where they start working right away with reconstructing the tissue of her leg. Steve and Bucky have debriefing all afternoon so when dinner arrives they are more than starving. They help Wanda and Nat set up the table for the team and help her unbox all the food that had just been delivered. They were all too tired to cook, so take out was their best bet.

When the elevator dinged and Tony stepped out, everyone took a moment to look.

“Look who I found trying to chew through the door.” he starts walking to the table when he noticed the wolf isn’t moving from the interior of the elevator. “Well, c'mon Fang we won’t bite.”

“Fang?” Bucky asks, a scowl on his face.

“Well, he needs a name.”

“First, it’s her, and second, Fang is a terrible name.” Bucky crouches and looks at her, metal hand outstretched in her direction “C'mon girl.” at that incentive she slowly takes a step from the elevator, and after a few more she starts running to him. Littering his face in kisses when she’s close enough. Once Bucky straightens though, it’s only a matter of seconds until a flurry of fur is rushing to the other side of the living room and gluing herself to the glass overlooking the city. “Look’s like someone is smitten with the overview.” he jest before joining the rest at the table so they could have dinner.

“What did the vet said about her leg?” Steve asks Tony while he plates some salad.

“Well, thanks to our medical equipment she’s basically all healed up. They just want to keep her for a couple more tests and to make sure she’s all healed up and she’s ready to return home.”

“Oh.” Bucky deflates, looking at the wolf excitedly wagging her tail while looking outside. He wouldn’t exactly admit it, but the time they were together in the cabin during the storm felt comfortable like he hadn’t felt in a while. Despite being friends with the others, their friendships were always a bit strained in the beginning, he wasn’t at ease. But with her, he felt like he usually felt when with Steve, peaceful and calm. But he understood they couldn’t keep her. She wasn’t a pet, she was a wild wolf and probably had a pack to return to.

“Tests?” Wanda questions, ignoring Bucky’s downwards spiraling thoughts.

“Well, her size is unusual, she’s double the size a wolf should be, and she did behave weirdly with the med team, almost like she understood them all, so she must have some higher intelligence we want to test for.”

He stays quiet all throughout dinner after that, and once he finished helping Sam do the dishes he goes to sit in the lounge sofa to cuddle up with Steve that was playing with the fluff ball currently at his feet. She jumps on the couch and makes a display of laying fully stretch on top of them both making them laugh and rub her belly and behind her ears.

They leave her in the living room of their shared apartment when they call it a night. But they wake up just enough to feel her paw at the cover to snuggle up in the middle of the two, falling asleep with them after a while.

Part 2 

[chat-noir-always-here]

“Hey Arnold!” and “Miraculous!” parallels

Ever have an idea for a post that you take forever to get around to because 2020 is 

actively 

trying

to kill you?!

 Welp, that’s me. I mean, uh, this is that post.

Long post is long and I don’t like cuts cuz I’ve lost a few posts in the past using them. Please filter the tag “long post” I use it for walls of text like these.

So there’s this show from my childhood called Hey Arnold! 

Having been on air before I had cable (I and my unsupervised brothers and sisters spent our childhood watching Jerry Springer and Maury because there was literally nothing else on our cheap little TV. How hilarious is that?) I didn’t really have much of an experience with Hey Arnold! aside from brief little glances at it when i visited a friends home or the rare occasion where they showed cartoons at school. By the time I got satellite, the show was no longer on the air save for some late night reruns and the Christmas special which aired in December along with other Nickelodeon Christmas episodes (THE best Christmas episode EVER btw).

Really I couldn’t remember much about it until hearing about the Jungle Movie finally getting a release date (a total flop but at least its no cliff hanger) and decided to re-watch the entire series in preparation for said movie.

By which point I had discovered another show—Miraculous. 

At first glance the two shows have absolutely nothing in common. Miraculous being a French-born mahou shoujo-esque CGI superhero TV series about a couple of middle schoolers who regularly battle a walking peppermint-frappucino-looking psychopath. Hey Arnold! being a more realistic children’s sitcom about a young football-headed boy who deals out humanitarian aid in the form of advice and simple good deeds to his neighbors, classmates and friends. 

In terms of setting, logic, and animation the two series are as different as night and day.

So imagine my pleasant surprise to discover a whole post’s worth of parallels shared between the two shows???

And here they are in no particular order:

1)Arnold’s Parents/Adrien’s mom

Prior to the start of Miraculous, Emilie Agreste disappeared under mysterious circumstances leaving her family behind. Later on it was revealed that she was in fact sleeping (dead?) in a glass coffin beneath the Agreste mansion--unbeknownst to Adrien, or anyone else in Paris save for Gabriel and Nathalie.

In a similar fashion, Arnold’s parents, Miles and Stella, also disappeared prior to the start of Hey Arnold! and like Emilie were always referred to as “missing” rather than “dead.” 

The Jungle Movie later revealed Miles and Stella weren’t dead, but like Emilie appears to be doing in her coffin, they were sleeping. Having caught a bout of sleeping sickness (apparently they do not need to be hooked up to IVs or other medical devices while in a comatose state cuz fuck logic) they simply needed their orphaned son to come and cure them with the help of the magical golden heart Helga provided him with.

Perhaps Mari holds the key to waking Emilie? That would be nice to see. 

Not the miraculous of course--but some other key.

Although personally I’m hoping for a hardcore, devastating ending like Emilie dying, Gabriel going to prison where he belongs, and Adrien leaving the country for a bit until the second Hawk Moth shows up because I just like devastating cliffhangers and angst and being in utter turmoil over fictional people. But that’s just me.

2) Their best friends are dating

Smol parallel here: Arnold’s best friend Gerald and Helga’s Best friend Phoebe wind up together in The Jungle Movie after being imprisoned together by Lasombra. Similar to how Nino and Alya ended up together after being imprisoned by Ladybug (for their protection, of course).

3) The Bag of Money Episode/ The Ladybug episode

OOh boy both of these episodes make me rage. 

Some context about the Bag of Money episode: Arnold and his friends Gerald and Sid find a random bag of money containing almost $4000. Sid is ecstatic and wants to split the money evenly between the three boys, but Arnold worries it could just be lost and convinces them to let him, Arnold, take the money to the police station. On the way he accidentally switches the bag with another one that is identical and contains a bunch of useless junk, and when he tries to explain what happened to his friends they don’t believe him because their bag of money was accidentally taken by an “old lady with pink hair and a peg leg.”

 Arnold’s a good boy and he’s telling the truth--but the truth sounds crazy, even to my ears. Sid accuses Arnold of stealing the money and spreads lies to their classmates, whom Arnold has spent the ENTIRE SERIES helping in some form or fashion. Despite everything he’s done for them though, the vast majority of the class come to believe Arnold is a thief. Even Gerald, Arnold’s closest friend, nearly believes Sid over Arnold but eventually comes to Arnold’s defense. The other kids (save for Helga who doesn’t really make an appearance this episode) gang up on Arnold, but thankfully the old lady with pink hair and a peg leg shows up with an officer and together they explain the bag of money is now at the lost and found where it will remain and if gone unclaimed will be returned to Arnold, Gerald and Sid. 

Pretty much everything is resolved and things return to normal between the kids. 

But I hate this episode. I hate this episode so, so much. Arnold has spent the entire series helping these people out in some form or fashion. Literally thats the entire show. And after everything he’s done for them they’re so. Quick. To. Turn. On. Him. 

Sound familiar???

4) Hidden Personality                   vs.          Surface Personality

 I do not refer to the cruddy “true selves” thing half the Miraculous fandom believes in. Depending on one’s individual circumstances, environment and how comfortable they are, said person’s behavior can fluctuate or even do a complete 180. This can be kinda frustrating when dealing on one’s own--”Who am I anyway? Is that me or is this me???”

It’s all you, fam.

Arnold and Helga are themselves too, no matter what metaphorical/actual mask they put on. There’s the side that everyone sees and then there’s the side almost no one sees. The hidden personality isn’t hidden due to a lack of trust, necessarily, but rather it is the result of retreating to their respective “shells”--ones which both Arnold and Helga were kinda punched, kicked, and shoved into. 

Helga’s surface personality: Class bully, puts up a tough front, constantly torments Arnold because she can’t stand him and his niceness

Helga’s hidden personality: Poetic, abused and isolated, is in love with Arnold to the point of being obsessed with him and bullies him via surface personality in order to hide that fact

Of course Adrien is no bully--his reasons for not being the “cunning, funny, ultra-charming Chat Noir” 24/7 DOES have a lot to do with his toxic household, his dad, and the overwhelming expectations which are constantly smothering him as Adrien. 

Adrien is a bug under a magnifying glass (or so he feels)

Chat Noir is a chance for a freedom.

 Adrien’s surface personality was molded by his dad.

 Helga’s is the result of her entire family. Her father is brash and loud, her mother is a confirmed alcoholic, her sister is a gifted prodigy, well-rounded and spends most of the series at university or elsewhere. Although her sister, Olga, has been shown to genuinely care for Helga, Olga is kinda the reason their parents neglect Helga. With their first daughter being the genius and prodigy she is, Helga’s parents poured all of their pride and affection and parental devotion onto her. Meanwhile Helga had to walk to pre-school alone. At four years old. In the rain. Not for the last time. 

Which leads me to the next parallel.

5) Umbrella in the Rain

squeals in delight over this parallel<3<3<3

If you’ve never seen Hey Arnold! do yourselves a favor and watch this short little clip over how Helga and Arnold first met. If you have seen it, watch it anyway because it is the most adorable clip in the entire show.

Dr. Bliss: “So nobody’s ever noticed you?”

Helga: “...There was someone.”

The soft way Helga confesses that--you can actually hear how grateful she is to have such a tender memory from such a painful time. 

 In a similar manner, Adrien offered his umbrella to Marinette. Of course Adrien did it because Mari had to walk home in the rain and Arnold did it as a simple gesture of kindness (seeing as they were already at the school)--one of the many kind acts he displays throughout the series. 

 But just like Adrien needed unconditional love coming from somewhere, so did Helga. They were both denied this one common necessity which everyone else around them had. It’s not a lot to ask for, and they should’ve already had it coming from their families--but they didn’t.

 And then, one rainy day, there it was--the unconditional love they needed.

6) Clinginess

What happens when you take someone, specifically a love-starved abused child from an unstable home environment--deprived of the one thing most crucial to their mental well-being--and miraculously provide them with that very necessity? 

Clinginess. 

I can’t really think of the correct word to describe this. “Clinginess” is pretty close to what I’m trying to describe, if not on point, so let’s go with that. 

 What I mean is Helga and Adrien both need Arnold and Ladybug respectively. That’s not a bad thing--it’s okay to need somebody else. What’s bad is hinging your entire being on this one connection. For if either kiddo were to be left behind they wouldn’t handle it very well.

 It can’t really be helped with either Helga or Adrien. They didn’t really have the option to learn certain things and went deprived of unconditional love for such a long time. They’re kids--nine and fourteen/fifteen respectively. They’re not perfect and they’re traumatized for life. Being denied love from your family--the very people designed to love you--would do that to a person. Naturally they would cling to the first people to show up and provide them with the love they needed. 

 The Hey Arnold! wiki says this about Helga and Arnold’s relationship

Due to her unstable family upbringing where both her mother and father constantly neglect [Helga] and shower all of their attention onto Olga, leaving her deprived of the love and attention she needed growing up. On her way to preschool, Arnold helped her by keeping the rain off her with an umbrella and even complimented her on her hairbow. He even later gave her crackers during their snack time. Arnold's kindness and being the first person to notice her quickly caused Helga to transfer all of her love and attention to Arnold.

Of course Adrien’s tunnel vision isn’t quite as bad as Helga’s.

 He treats his friends better.

 He does love his father--

Even though his father is THE. 

WORST.

 PARENT.

 EVER!!!

--because he’s Adrien and he’s just too precious a cinnamon roll and that’s still his dad even if the man does belong behind bars.

7) Unhealthy Obsession

I--

I...

Ugh. I am not going to delve too far into this. You’re just going to have to take my word for it. Helga’s creepy stalker behavior is a thousand times worse than Marinette’s. That pic up there of Helga hiding out in Arnold’s room watching him is pretty decent evidence to back up my argument, but it’s hardly the only example or even the worst incident.

 Honestly I’m amazed at what Nicktoons were able to get away with in the late nineties/early 2000s. 

But yes, Helga’s obsession with Arnold is rather unhealthy in the most extreme moments leading her to display behavior which is more often than not disturbing and concerning. 

The Hey Arnold! wiki has this to say about Helga’s obsession with Arnold

Helga is possessive of her love for Arnold and thinks non-stop about him to the point of obsession. This is evidenced throughout the series by the many shrines and poems she makes of Arnold and of her frequent dramatic soliloquies about her love for Arnold.

Again--Mari isn’t as bad as all that. She’s a sweet girl with many healthy relationships in her life. She has ambition, creativity, and drive. But yeah she can be rather possessive of Adrien too, and that needs to stop. Like right now. Adrien doesn’t need another girl being possessive of him and thinking he’s perfect--he needs someone who acknowledges him as a flawed person and loves him despite that. 

As for Helga and Arnold--show creator Craig Bartlett confirmed they are “made for each other” and wind up married with three kids, so I’m guessing Helga grew out of some of these bad habits? Or at least I hope so...

8) Helper/Humanitarian tendencies

As mentioned before, the plot of Hey Arnold! is more or less about Arnold helping people. As stated by Gerald in The Jungle Movie, “He’s a humanitarian! Like his parents!” Of course not every episode is about Arnold helping people. There are episodes devoted to supporting characters and they’re just as enjoyable and satisfying. 

 But as he is the titular character he spends a lot of time in the spotlight. 

Remember that “best christmas special EVER” episode I mentioned before?

 The reason it’s the best special, in my less than humble opinion, is due to a few things.

 The special is not about Santa Claws. In fact, I don’t think he’s even mentioned, let alone shown and treated like an actual living character.

The focus on the entire episode is again on Arnold helping someone, but he doesn’t succeed. Not really.

The one who succeeded in helping someone was Helga, who accomplished the goal Arnold had set out to do. 

The episode deals with some rather dark subject matter and is actually quite heartwarming as the “perfect present” Arnold was trying to provide someone with wasn’t something you can buy in the store

It’s also one of the episodes where Helga’s love for Arnold leaves her to do good and as her love for him is a secret, she expects nothing in return. She’s just happy to help him.

 Kinda similar to Mari who is, as Adrien puts it in Mayura, “Our every day Ladybug.” Her kindness and devotion to helping others is what drives her as Ladybug and Marinette. It’s what brought Ivan and Mylene together. Is the reason Nathaniel and Mark now have a comic book together. And at the end of the day, that’s the reason for her strange behavior around Adrien--she wants to help him. Even if it’s just as a “good friend.” 

9) There are two main characters

Although Hey Arnold! is technically a show about Arnold, one could argue it is just as much Helga’s story. 

Similarly, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir is named thusly in order to convey the fact that Adrien is just as much a main character as Marinette is. 

Although I must say Hey Arnold! did a much better job of giving it’s co-character their dues. GIVE. ME. MORE. CHAT NOIR. FOCUSED. EPISODES. DAMMIT.

But, yes, in terms of screen time, Helga gets about as much as Arnold does. Her story and struggles were given just as much importance as Arnold’s and many people have even come to believe that the show is really about Helga. I’d say its about both of them.

10) Constantly bumping into each other

Granted this happens between Arnold and Helga more often than it does to the love square dorks. 

 But yes the two people meant to be together keep knocking into each other in their respective universes. 

 I forget who, but I remember reading that someone a while back theorized that this was the universe’s way of trying to push Arnold and Helga together. Kinda like the “Now kiss!” meme

Perhaps it’s the same for Adrien and Marinette? 

;)

[akiwisfics]

Dipping Her Toes In

Summary:  A snapshot of what freedom might look like for Kirari, and the next step of her relationship with Sayaka. Notes: Response to the Hundred Devouring Artist’s Prompt, “Kirari’s first ‘I love you.’” You can find the rest of the collection here. 

---

>> “What does it mean to be in love?”

“... With love being so closely connected to meaning and fulfillment, it's valuable for each of us to define love as an action or series of actions we can take to bring us closer to the people we value...”

A glance through the article doesn’t offer many tidbits. Warnings about not appreciating partners over time, fantasy bonds, things that she never considers. In any case, it’s been some time now, and just as quickly, she clicks the tab close.  She needs something more… concrete.

>> “Scientific studies on love.”

“...During the first love-year, serotonin levels gradually return to normal, and the ‘stupid’ and ‘obsessive’ aspects of the condition moderate. That period is followed by increases in the hormone oxytocin, a neurotransmitter associated with a calmer, more mature form of love…”

The medical benefits might interest Sayaka if she brings it up; they sound like things the girl would use to justify using the word herself, but by now, she knows better: Sayaka gives in to the feeling, surrenders to its irrationality like the true beast that it is. Though it isn’t useful, perse, she does bookmark it for later. Sometimes, Sayaka gets bored with her schoolwork, and something tells her she may appreciate a small abstract like this for bedtime reading.

The girl never learns to relax.

>> “Quotes on love.”

“ At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.”

Plato is a questionable source of advice, maybe. The quotes are saccharine and only fill her mouth a sickenly sour taste. They’re better suited for agonizing romance novels and pop tunes that Yumemi still sings on the radio sometimes. Perhaps a straightforward approach is necessary.

>> “Wiki-How ‘How to Confess Your Love’”

“Take a step back. Be rational for a moment, and take stock of the situation. Consider your relationship to this person, and try to predict how they will receive your words.”

Oh.

Was she supposed to confess before the relationship started? She doesn’t think Sayaka would reject her if she admits to it; not when the other girl had confessed her love… a year ago now? A year and a half? It feels longer, but she tries to block out the shades of things she doesn’t want to think about; it’s easier that way, when now she has something normal that’s hers.

But how would Sayaka react to it? It’s a thought she’s never considered, so she keeps reading.

“Make sure that you mean it. If you have never been in love before, it may be hard to understand the implications of this phrase. There are many types of love…”

What does that mean?

“Sister?”

Kirari pokes her head away from her laptop, and notes the curious look in Ririka’s eyes. She knows she hadn’t started that long ago, but it feels so much later than it is. There’s some cacophony of traffic outside their apartment window, drunk office workers bickering about the latest gossip around the office, her stomach grumbles at the sweet aroma of curry simmering in the kitchen, and Kirari feels at home. Her legs are stretched out in front of her, toes wriggling freely as she balances the laptop on her knees. Her glasses feel a bit crooked, but they have to wait another week or so before she can fix them.

But it doesn’t matter, because tonight, she has a bigger project on her hands, and she can see the way Ririka is already worrying her hands into her white apron.

“What are you doing?” her sister asks and peers over curiously at the laptop screen. Her face blanches just a tad as she scans the article.

Kirari can’t help giggling at the response. “Sayaka is coming next week. I thought

I’d do something nice, but I’m… having a bit of trouble.”

“You two are dating... right…?”

She nods, and keeps scrolling through the page. More social plays. Indirect confessions, gauging the other person. However, it just seems like Kirari skipped a few steps. She never has to worry about Sayaka not being receptive, because she must be. Yet… she keeps pulling up to that second step. The types of love. She doesn’t have many examples. She loves Ririka, for instance. Familial love. But she doesn’t know if the word sits right on her tongue the way it does anyone else.

She doesn’t recall ever saying the word before. At least not like that. She doesn’t recall saying it to her mother, her grandmother, to cousins, to pets, to Sayaka. It isn’t something that…

Ririka is stepping away, but the impulse comes to mind. “Hey, Ririka?” Kirari calls after her, enough to give her older twin some pause.

“Yes?”

Should she look at her when she says it? Would it be more natural? Kirari doesn’t quite make it, instead focusing on the small counter behind her, filled with calendars, homework, bills, and dates. Things to remember for later. The words however, come out easily enough-- even as they feel a bit weird on her tongue.

“I love you,” she says.

Ririka looks slightly disturbed. That didn’t seem right either. Is it really that odd to hear her say it?

“I think you’re supposed to say it back,” Kirari suggests.

Her twin still hesitates, as if testing the word for herself-- seeing how it tasted, if it really fit how she feels. She’s learning how to wear her heart better on her sleeve, and Kirari enjoys seeing it. They are two people now, and though love fitted them before now, it molds itself more naturally in her vocabulary.

Yes. She loves Ririka. She is her twin, her lifeline since she was a child and even now, when sometimes it still feels like the world is ready to swallow her whole and drown her in its murky depths.

“I… I love you too?” Ririka squeaks, though it comes out mostly as a question. It works for now, and truthfully, Kirari finds a bit of comfort in the fact that it’s foreign for them both. They are two people now, but something about their commonalities warm and comfort Kirari all the same. She still plays games, has dumb jokes, and sighs and grumbles whenever Kirari doesn’t think. It’s now that it’s only two of them, they can just be that.

Kirari always loved Ririka, but now especially, it doesn’t hurt to call her sister.

--

She’s known for a while, of course, but perhaps Kirari didn’t have a word for it right away. Fascination was a safer word. It sparked academic interests-- thoughts and feelings more akin to objectivism than the more dangerous realms of subjectivity and the heart. When she puts it like that now though, it feels… sterile-- a dry taste on her tongue, better suited for Terano’s voice, her speeches. Or maybe her midterm paper.

It started and ended with the tower. It always did. She knew the name she wanted for them when she fell, but it was a taste that she was familiar with long before then, a certain sweetness that watered her mouth, like fresh fruit in blistering hot summers. Her eyes had darted and memorized the resume with a rejuvenation she had never known, never felt, and from it, the first loops of a love letter began to form in her mind.

But she hadn’t known how to write a love letter, nor the word for her fascination, so instead, she constructed a tower, and let it loom over the entire school-- a beacon of her obsession and tether to this new humanity that encroached on her heart.

(She still has the deed to that piece of land. She keeps it locked tight in a small safe underneath her bed, along with other traces of the old life she left behind. The only two things she ever needs constantly are the things she has already. Ririka. Sayaka.)

(Sometimes the other things still come back. Sometimes the nightmares don’t stop. But there’s either warm arms around her in the morning, or a welcoming, defrosting smile waiting for her in the kitchen-- Ririka’s breakfast. Soft. Perfect.)

She could’ve told Sayaka after the fall, when she looked so divine in the shimmering moonlight, eyes shining and glistening. In a way, Kirari did? But it wasn’t… it wasn’t the same, was it?

Sayaka never does well with metaphors. Despite the constant reminder of this, Kirari seems to constantly forget. It’s easier to slip into those ideas and actions that she knows well-- a double-speak that was necessary in the clan, at the school. If a truth isn’t at least a half-lie, then its free information-- and information never should be free.

Sayaka is an open book, but the language is one she doesn’t understand just yet. She’s learning though, slowly. She prefers her glasses in the morning, she prefers earthy teas, and she fidgets without anything to do. Waiting is an action to her, but to have nothing planned is permission for her to fiddle. Sometimes that’s organizing and cleaning the apartment (much to Ririka’s chagrin, when it takes weeks afterward to find everything), sometimes it’s studying the big law books-- a few extra copies making a neat stack on the coffee table. Kirari isn’t sure what to do with them now that her entrance exam is done, but Sayaka keeps insisting on keeping them in case she needs the books again.

She puts things to reuse and cherishes what luxuries she can afford. It’s a skill that Kirari is learning, slowly but surely. She recycles, she’s started cooking lessons with Ririka, and though she loathes to do it, she puts more focus on what they need versus the excess and statements that she enthralled herself with growing up.

But Kirari has grown to enjoy parts of it-- beautiful aspects that were easy to forget when she was richer and more pressured. Acts of love, self-sacrifice. Coupled with rarer appearances, even the smallest of actions seem to carry a heavier weight.

It started with a picnic.  Early spring, with the white lilies in full bloom, petals fluttering in the warm breeze. Her nose itched from the pollen as she laid on a dark blanket and observed the open blue sky, cloudless and empty. The looming tower was the solitary object in her vision, the lone door they dove out of just the barest outline from so far below.  On a whim, she outstretched her hands, framing the door between her fingers. What would it have looked like from down below? Two girls in the throes of their own madness, plummeting to their supposed deaths.

“Pres-- Kirari!”

Ah. She hadn’t been used to the name yet. Kirari smiled still, letting her hands drop lazily back on the blanket and patted the empty spot next to her. “The weather really is beautiful.”

“You… you just graduated. Shouldn’t you be--”

“Who’s going to kick me out?”

Sayaka relented and piece by piece, she laid down next to her, shoulders stiff and an uncertain fidget as she observed the clear sky above them. It may have been moments, maybe hours. Kirari counted the breaths shared between them, memorized the warmth that spread where their fingers and hips brushed, and allowed herself to consider what forever would look like just like this. The thought was dizzy, unclear, always is, but it was a thought that was hers . A thought that no one could ever, ever take again.

Not even the girl that held that dream in her hands without even knowing, even as Sayaka had continued to fidget next to her, thoughts elsewhere as they always were. Now? She’s better about it, but some days--

“Are you nervous?” Sayaka had asked, though better for herself than Kirari.

“No,” she spoke evenly, “I know you’ll find me when you need me.”

“And--”

Kirari found her hand, fingers twisting and tangling in the sheet below them and tangled them with her own hand instead. She squeezed firmly, once, and tried to take in the softness along her rough pads, knowing that it would be empty come tomorrow. “I always need you.”

--

And she always does.

So Kirari tries to include her in other ways. They text more frequently now, and sometimes when Sayaka visits, they spend half the time just working on homework and studying. She tells herself it’s normal and that’s okay too. The classes don’t challenge her as much as she would like though, and sometimes her mind drifts. Kirari thinks about fish, thinks about the smaller aquarium she has in the apartment, what her and Ririka will learn how to cook tonight. There’s supposed to be a raid, and she thinks Sayaka is free for once to lend a hand. Thank goodness, but Kirari is a shit healer.

Her mind finds the article when it does wander though, and still, she has to consider everything that’s come before and now. She missed the chance to confess when the election ended, she missed it on her graduation day, and distressingly enough, Kirari missed it when they had their first anniversary just a few months ago.

It was pleasant. She had saved her money through the last couple of weeks before it to take Sayaka to an expensive restaurant downtown-- seafood. Kirari had gifted her a pendant necklace-- a heirloom she had stolen from her clan back when she was leaving it. … Still in the midst of leaving it she supposes.

Though Kirari didn’t have the funds (Sayaka would be terribly upset if she spent the money on her instead of fixing the very minor crook in her glasses of all things), she has to wonder if there is something that could create a moment for them. Not so unlike the picnic between them, a gesture so simple but still stikes at where Kirari needs it.

… Sayaka did just finish her entrance exam. The results wouldn’t be posted yet, but perhaps--

“Igarashi-san?”

It takes her a second, but Kirari is learning to get used to that too. She stands obediently, and feels relieved at the lack of curious, bewildered stares. No one blinks at her name. No one recognizes her face. She is just a classmate, a figure in the crowd. But she wonders, if she had kept the Momobami moniker, would they?

“Could you read the next two paragraphs for us please?”

Kirari speaks loudly and clearly, even as her mind continues to wander. It’s a habit she can’t break from high school, unfortunately. She can’t help it, really. Whatever they read today will be a distant memory, foggy shapes once she’s turned to bed for the evening. Instead, she remembers the way she heard that name the first time.

Sayaka doesn’t know. If she was better about herself, she would admit she’s embarrassed. But she likes the way it sounds next to her name. Kirari Igarashi. It doesn’t remind her of peaches rotting in trees, of drowning. It’s a name that’s hers, and Sayaka’s too.

One day, she’d like it to be legally hers. For now, a few forged papers for her college admissions let her live the fantasy.

--

Kirari knows the man that moved next door to them. He’s smart enough to keep gloves on his hands, hiding the brand permanently etched on his skin, but he doesn’t know enough to keep the weighty recognition out of his eyes as they cross paths in the apartment hallways.

She doesn’t bring it up to Terano when she calls her later, even as she makes plans to meet her. They know Kirari still has a foot in the doorway, just in case the clan tries something again.

The next time she sees him, Kirari waves. He ignores it.

--

They always meet in public. Kirari isn’t sure that’s for her own sake, or more for the sake of Terano’s pride. It’s a routine at this point-- Kirari dangles a particularly juicy carrot, one Terano can’t ignore as she works to repair the damage, and Kirari asks for a favor fitting the price. A public space allows Kirari escape routes, and it allows Terano to have watchers-- in case something goes wrong. Kirari counts the heads that look just slightly out of place, the ones that take a second too long to look away when she sits down.

They never meet at the same restaurant, but Kirari learns that Terano has a habit. She likes coffee, the way the beans reek and leak out of the store out into the open patio. Terano always orders it black, and uses careful sips to disguise her nervous pauses. She’s changed little in the year, now with a weary weight to her eyes that Kirari is all too familiar with.

Kirari settles with a chai tea, because sometimes the thick aroma is enough to distract her from the two very ugly things around her: coffee and bad company.

Today is no different. They’re closer to Shibuya, a dizzying circle of subway stations and commuters that dizzy Kirari some ways and fascinates her in others. Now that her aquarium is more reasonable, she occupies her time observing people like the fish. The commuters and works walk their perfectly etched paths with few variations or changes. If she tries hard enough, she can recognize a few-- those that share the same path she does. If she tries hard enough, she could tell what days they stopped to grab coffee themselves, or which ones had some skeletons in the closet that they weren’t trained as a child to keep secret like Kirari did.

But Kirari is supposed to be normal now, so she doesn’t try that hard most of the time. Terano never thinks she’s trying enough.

She sits down on cold iron chairs, swallows the bile down at the thick smell of coffee beans, souring her mouth, and offers a placid smile to Terano. Something more familiar to both of them. “Good to see you, Terano,” Kirari lies.

“Stop calling me,” Terano snipes. Always straight to the point. “Every time you call me, I keep thinking I was better off just killing you.”

Kirari chuckles and marvels at how her cousin’s eyes trail the white envelope naturally as she pulls it out of her jacket pocket. It’s much plainer than the old calligraphy that was drilled into them both, and she prefers it. “You could never pull the trigger,” she teases in return, naturally. “Do you have it?”

Terano scowls, deeper than usual, but she still digs through her suitcase. What she pulls out is an envelope with sleek black, sealed with clan kanji that she hasn’t seen in months. Something inside her sinks, but Kirari knows that’s the purpose behind it. She wishes she could shake the feeling. Instead she lets herself tread along the surface. Breathing room.

“She passed. That really shouldn’t surprise you.” And yet, Kirari releases the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Even as Terano continues, uses slim fingers to slide the cruel reminder of things she doesn’t want anymore, Kirari feels relieved. “Top score. The pre-law department has been busy trying to make sure the offer’s good. They’re worried someone might leak the score to other schools.”

And Terano hesitates. “... The name she’s attached to--”

“It’s not real anymore.” She feels the smooth paper against her own rough palms, and feels how her appetite drains with each inch that she feels. It stings, it burns -- a heat Kirari so desperately tries to ignore as she stuffs the envelope in her pocket for safekeeping. Later, she will smooth out the creases and take in each letter of approval. University of Tokyo. With her. The warmth will be better then. Light.

Terano swallows. “... Igarashi?”

Her smile blooms at the word. Terano doesn’t say it with the gravity it deserves, but in a way, Kirari appreciates it. She wants her to be hesitant. Uncertain of something that never belonged to the clan. It is hers. It is her and Sayaka’s.

“It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Her eyes trace upward, to silver hair, no doubt too bright in the open sun. Kirari likes to think that Terano is trying to observe her for the first time. Not with the chains around her neck, of that nightmare of Momobami. She grew so tired of it choking her, and though there’s still bruises, some maybe too deep to heal, she’s free.

Only once, Terano swallows her pride. “The short hair suits you.”

--

“Are you sure about this?”

Sayaka threaded her fingers through as if handling something far more precious. Perhaps like sand through her own hourglass, dreading cutting those seconds and years away with a clean shear. Kirari’s eyes slid closed as Sayaka worshipped. Sometimes she misses those mornings where Sayaka would carefully braided silver tresses, looping them with finesse that Kirari could never perfect on her own.

“I need something new,” and she looked up, offering a smile only shared between them. “I know I can trust you to pick something that suits me.”

Sayaka hummed carefully, and through her reflection in the mirror, she could see how furrowed and frustrated she looked. Eyes dark and frown deep. She knew how deeply she was thinking, and the idea of what Sayaka would come up with thrilled her. With gentle hands, Sayaka brushed her hair back, letting it pool behind the chair.

The glean in her eyes was remarkable. “I won’t disappoint you, Kirari,” Sayaka said with stark conviction, leaving a kiss to the back of her head before she began her work.

It took some time and experimentation, but Kirari loves the freedom. They have time to decide what they want. What Kirari wants. The bob cut took some getting used to, but she loves the way it fans against her cheeks when she hunches over notebooks or her laptop. She loves the way that when her and Sayaka are sleeping, Sayaka’s still finds her hands tangled in her hair.

Kirari is in love. She’s always been in love.

--

There’s an extra pair of shoes. Mary’s here. The relationship between her and Ririka confuses her. Mary is all spitfire, physical brushes and jerks. She’s careless and unapologetic with her touches. Perhaps it appeals to Ririka in some sense, that someone would be so comfortable with themselves after spending so long hiding behind a mask like a tortoise shell.

Mary is stretched out on their couch, blonde hair drawn back in a loose ponytail, tied in silk black ribbon. The hum out of her pursed lips is almost contagious as she scrolls through her phone, completely at ease in a space she would have shied away from before. Kirari likes to think that it’s Ririka’s influence, and she’s grateful too, that they seem to be happy together. She just isn’t sure how it works.

Kirari has seen them together of course. Ririka shies away from more overt affection when Mary first arrives, but she gets used to the affection, she sees her grow more into herself. Back to the agonizing babysitter in many respects. She remembers how openly Mary gaped when Ririka admonished Kirari for the first time in her company, and Kirari thinks that was when she realized how serious they were.

But she doesn’t know how they don’t find that constant dance exhausting. And that’s not even including the love mess. Ririka is just as lost by the terminology. She hardly ever makes the first move.

“Where’s Ririka?” Kirari asks in way of greeting as she crosses the threshold into the living room. Their coffee table is starting to lean in the weight of the big law books. There’s a fern plant that needs watering, and the window is open to the busy streets below. She smells noodles at the shop down the street; salty. Maybe they have the extra cash to grab a bowl this evening.

Mary doesn’t look away from her phone, disinterested as ever. “Grocery shopping. She wanted me to wait for you.”

“That’s nice.”

She puts the phone to sleep and sits up, allowing Kirari the space to sit. As Kirari takes her seat, she realizes Mary is wearing perfume and tries to bite back her smile. “I’d like to ask you something,” Kirari says as she sits there, stiffly.

“I’m gonna regret saying yes, aren’t I?”

“Has Ririka said ‘I love you’ yet?”

The way Mary chokes immediately at the question is fascinating as she lurches back, covering her mouth with her hands. The red of her cheeks fits her blond better than Ririka’s silver, but no less amusing. “ What? ” Mary croaked out.

“Has she?”

“Th-This isn’t any of your business!”

“What would you consider romantic enough for such a confession?” She turned closer to her, legs crossed, and studies the way Mary squirms underneath the questioning. There’s something lovely how uncomfortable both her and Ririka could be. “I was considering a devotion day of sorts. People like Ririka and Sayaka need someone to remind them to relax, don’t you think? Breakfast in bed, a nice walk in the park perhaps, and … how do I bring it up?”

“ Shut up, Kirari!”

“Have you said it to Ririka yet? How did you--”

“SHUT UP,” and Mary latches onto her collar tight with clammy red hands, stretching the fabric and shaking her violently. Kirari’s head thumps with the way it rocks back and forth, but really, she thinks the headache is more internal. She wishes Mary could be more honest, but perhaps they’ll learn to do that in time.

--

Some days, it hurts.

It hurts worse than any word Kirari can describe.

But for the first time in her life, she feels like she doesn’t have to be alone to deal with it.

--

Sayaka gets in late, and as they take the dizzying concrete pathways back to Kirari’s apartment, her eyes are already drooping and Kirari spends more time holding her up than actually walking there. She’s learned how to relax a bit more now that they don’t use secretary or president . It’s just them. Sayaka and Kirari. It’s a thought that bubbles pleasantly. Like champagne simmering below. When Sayaka is here, Kirari never stops smiling.

She’s grown too. Sayaka has never stopped training, and she feels muscle as she holds her weight, the weight of a taser in her pocket. Some habits never die. The same time they settled on a good haircut, Sayaka started wearing her own in a high bun with long dark banks framing her beautiful, perfect face. The scratches never completely faded, and Kirari has to stop herself from counting the scratches as she guides them.

“Did you sleep at all?” Kirari teases gently.

Sayaka stifles a yawn, but she doesn’t pull away to save face. “I wanted to make sure everything went well.”

It doesn’t surprise her, but there’s nothing disappointing about it either. Kirari is learning the language, even as it evolves and starts using words that used to be just hers. Sayaka is a book-- her favorite book. She thinks of it like one bound by old parchment and illustrations painted with beauty and dedication. A marvel of detail that frames each chapter in ways that could never be replicated again.

They collapse in bed together as soon as they make it, and Kirari welcomes the extra weight. She welcomes the warmth molded against her. She welcomes the fingers tangled in her hair and the butterfly kisses against her cheeks and lips.

Sayaka shows her love most here, and it’s moments like this that Kirari cherishes most.

--

The date hits a snag immediately when Kirari wakes up to an empty space next to her and the digital clock reading 11:30. She smells Earl Grey and eggs from the cracked door, enticing her to crawl out of the residual warmth of her bed and further into the reaches of the apartment. If she closes her eyes and concentrate, she can hear a light hum, carefully content.

She wants to listen to the melody longer, but she knows Sayaka doesn’t like the breakfast to get cold. Kirari gets up in starts and pauses, fumbling for her slightly crooked glasses and old sweatshirt and pants. She keeps her feet bare because she likes the feel of her toes against ground that’s hers. She yawns and she looks less than perfect. And that’s okay.

Sayaka’s eyes find hers as Kirari wanders into the kitchen, and something catches her by the warm smile. It curves her eyes, black hair wild and fussed from the way Kirari clings to her in her sleep. She’s wearing a t-shirt and shorts, bare legs twitching off and on in a nervous fidget. She pours the tea with a practiced perfection, steam billowing and clouding both of their glasses in the tight space.

“Good morning,” Sayaka says and the smile stretches just a wider, and all too sudden--

“I love you,” Kirari blurts. It’s not perfect, not even close to perfect. They both look like a mess, Sayaka’s dark circles under her eyes after months and months of studying and preparing. Kirari’s hair is tangled and fussed, make-up smeared across her face. But it slips out like a waterfall, one that Kirari can never hope to stop.

She doesn’t realize the tea cup slips out of Sayaka’s fingers until it cracks on the floor, and like a startled rabbit, Sayaka jumps back-- eyes owlishly wide and flabbergasted. Kirari isn’t sure if this is the reaction wants.

“... What?”

Kirari hesitates. “Is… was that a bad time?”

Sayaka cries and Kirari is never, ever sure what to do when it happens. She isn’t sure Sayaka knows what to do when she does either, because rather than responding, she starts bending down to pick up the broken ceramic. By the third piece though, her hands start shaking as the phrase hits her, and almost as if on instinct, her hands start gravitating toward her eyes to cover her tears.

Kirari takes them instead. A quick snatch up and a squeeze tight. She wishes it was to comfort the poor woman, but she wouldn’t-- “Careful. Wouldn’t want you to blind yourself, my dear Sayaka.”

“I’m sorry, I just--”

“Is it weird?”

“No! Never. I…” And her eyes well up again. “... I love you too.”

She kisses once. Forehead. Then along the curvature of one brow. She lets the small touches calm Sayaka down. The ceramic can be picked up later. The tea can be remade, and while the eggs probably couldn’t be salvaged, there’s always another time. She’ll send a better note later, especially after Kirari wakes up one morning to her glasses perfect and the tea cup replaced, but for now, she chooses to cherish the warmth between them.

It’s only one of many first steps in their lives. Kirari doesn’t mind waiting a bit longer for more.

[thedreammweaver]

If I Was A Flower Growing Wild And Free All I'd Want Is You To Be My Sweet Honey Bee Chapter 3 (Harley Quinn show, Harlivy, temporary Ivy x Kiteman, pregnant!Ivy)

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Warnings: main character death (don’t worry, it’s not one anyone likes), violent murder, misogyny, body shaming

Harley was a bit awestruck as Ivy came out of her room. Over the four months Ivy had been pregnant Harley thought she somehow got prettier every day.

She looked like she was a bit further along than she was, they guessed she’d been accidentally helping the baby grow faster with her abilities. Currently she was in a floor length green dress with spaghetti straps and floral print. When they’d gone maternity wear shopping Ivy got frustrated at the lack of options in green and only agreed to get anything after Harley offered to dye it for her. Harley thought she looked like a goddess as she sleepily made her way to the kitchen. Her face falling as she noticed a gift basket on the counter “Oh, god..”

“It’s from penguin again.”

Ever since the news of Ivy’s pregnancy got out Oswald had been well and truly stricken with baby fever. He’d been absurdly nice to both her and Harley lately. “How does he keep figuring out what my favourite foods are...” Ivy mumbled, surveying the basket, angry that she actually appreciated it.

“He invited us to the lounge again.” The invites they’d been getting had seemed actually genuine this time.

“Let’s go.” Ivy said.

Harley sat up straight from we’re she’d been laying on the couch “What? He’s been inviting us for months and you wanted him to fuck off, now you want to go?”

“I’m getting stir crazy I guess.”

Frank laughed “Those hormones are no joke, Ivy actually wants a social life now.”

Ivy used her vines to shove Frank in a closet.

“Speaking of social life, how was your date with Chuck?” Harley asked.

Ivy got quiet, their date had just been both of them watching tv at her apartment “It was cool I guess but...”

“But what?”

“He is acting like I’m...not pregnant, I don’t know, it’s weird. He’s acting like I’m not carrying his kid right now.” Ivy sighed “I guess I’d be weirded out if he acknowledged it too much but he was acting clueless as to why I was going to the bathroom so much and why I couldn’t get comfortable. Maybe he’s in denial..”

“Or maybe he’s just stupid.”

That made Ivy laugh despite herself but she soon go serious again “I feel awkward around him like I can’t ask him to rub my back when it hurts like I ask you to.” As Ivy thought about it she realized she rarely had to actually ask Harley, the other woman always just knew when she was hurting. “Maybe you’d make a better baby daddy than him.” Ivy said absently, tracing circles on the counter top with her fingers.

Harley felt her face get hot “I’m gonna get ready.”

It only took a few seconds after entering the lounge for Oswald to make a beeline for Ivy and Harley, Ed in tow. “So glad you could finally make it, ladies!”

“My eyes are up here, fuckface.” Ivy said, as she noticed Oswald staring at her baby bump. Ed looked a bit dejected as Oswald cleared his throat and continued talking to Ivy “You know, I told my staff to serve you...and your emotional support clown,” he gave Harley a glare “anything you want, on the house.”

Ivy was a bit taken aback, she had only been planning to stay for a few minutes but she was kind of hungry and definitely didn’t feel like passing up free food.

Ivy was sitting by herself now as after they’d eaten Harley had migrated to the bar. She didn’t feel totally alone as she looked down at her stomach, she gently traced the floral patterns draped over it and got sort of lost within herself until someone sitting down next to her distracted her. It was Oswald “I wanted to talk to you about why I invited you here.”

Ivy gave him a look that said ‘get on with it’.

“I- uh...wanted to offer to cover all of your medical expenses for the rest of your pregnancy..” there was a shyness present in his voice.

Ivy’s brow furrowed “Why?”

“I-I’m just looking out for my fellow crimina-“

“You want to start a family but riddler isn’t sure and or doesn’t want to so you’re using me as an outlet for your pent up need to care for a baby?”

“Yes, ma’am...”

“Okay.”

“Okay...what?”

“You can pay for my medical stuff.”

“Oh, thank you!” Oswald said excitedly “You’re doing me a huge favour.” He said before getting up and walking away.

Ivy thought it was the other way around but brushed it off. Before she could get back to her thoughts someone else sat beside her. It was the scarecrow.

“What do you want?” She nearly growled.

“I was wondering if there have been any takers for the little one yet?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Well, I’d be willing to take it off your hands.”

Ivy had unconsciously wrapped her hands and some of her vines around her belly protectively “So you can do what? Experiment on them?”

“Yes.”

“No thanks.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like you want it.”

“Just because I’m not keeping the baby doesn’t mean I don’t care about them at all.”

“I would pay you a lot for it.”

“No thanks.”

Jon frowned “Have it your way.” He said coldly as he got up and walked away.

The next day Ivy was still a little spooked from Jon’s offer and feeling a bit guilty for different reasons. Harley and her crew had a meeting in the abandoned mall for the first time in a while to plan a heist only to figure out that none of their plans worked without Ivy. Ivy could tell everyone was a bit disappointed which made her feel guilty which had caused her to start crying. King Shark had made her a smoothie to help her feel better which she was still sucking on. Clay face and king shark left already but Dr. Psycho was still there while Harley was cleaning up. Psycho turned his attention to Ivy “This is exactly why I’ve always thought giant women are the ones who should handle having kids. When my ex-wife was pregnant she didn’t even show.”

Ivy rolled her eyes, trying to ignore him as he continued.

“Normal sized chicks just get fat and useless and ruin everything, and then they stay ugly after the pregnancy. You’ll probably look especially horrible since you looked anorexic befo-“

Ivy’s vines suddenly wrapped around Psycho’s head and neck quickly separating his head from his body and crushing it.

“Ivy!” Harley had only just turned around after finishing putting stuff away “I was about to do that!” She stomped.

“You should’ve called dibs.” Ivy stood up “I feel extra shitty now..”

“Do you wanna go get ice cream?”

Ivy’s spirits lifted a bit, Harley’s eagerness to make her feel better causing her to smile “Yeah..that would be nice.”

[knightofameris]

bitter endings - aoba johsai

✎ setting. Spring Inter-high Aoba Johsai vs. Karasuno ✎ gender. Female ✎ contains. Kindaichi is referred to as Yuutarou/Yuu but also just Kindaichi lol (you’re his older sister), curse words, you are... mom of Aoba Johsai so now Iwaizumi is no longer mom and dad but just dad, god bless your soul ✎ wc. 4k

✎ summary. And so, your three years as the manager of Aoba Johsai slowly comes to a bittersweet end. It’s more bitter than sweet until your walk home. (Four separate endings depending on who you pick :3c)

✎ ameris’ notes. i could NOT stop thinking about this plot idea SOOOOOO i wrote it. 

sweet beginnings: hanamaki || sweet beginnings: matsukawa || sweet beginnings: iwaizumi || sweet beginnings: oikawa

Enjoy!

❝ new beginnings are often disguised as painful endings ❞

The air’s thick with tension as members of Aoba Johsai’s volleyball team warm up before their match against Karasuno. Despite the fact that they won against them during the Interhigh match, it was way too close of a call. Even you didn’t expect that out of Karasuno’s team; afterall they were always known as “The Flightless Crows.” 

With a deep breath, you walk up to your younger brother, Yuutarou, and give him a quick elbow jab in the side.

“Ack! Nee-san!” Yuutarou glares down at you despite the grin on your face. The rest of the team glance over at the commotion caused by the two Kindaichi siblings. Kunimi is sure to grab the water bottle you give him so he could walk away as you lay torment on your younger brother.

“Relax, Yuu! Also,” you pinch his cheeks despite his attempts to stop you, “when’d you stop calling me nee-chan, come on Yuu!” 

“Now, now, Manager-chan!” Oikawa walks over, wrapping an arm around you. “Don’t go bullying our middle blocker.” You roll your eyes at him, feeling hints of a flush going up to your face. 

“He’s my brother, I can do anything, also you stink! Get off me!” You try shoving Oikawa off of you but his grip on your shoulder didn’t relent, he just laughed. To the rest of the team, this was normal. Afterall, you are one of the few that wasn’t a fangirl over Oikawa Tooru. Mostly because of the fact that you’ve spent the last three years getting to know him and the other third years. But you would be lying if you said he wasn’t pretty. He is pretty, but he’s a pretty bastard. 

A thwump of a ball hitting the back of Oikawa’s head echoes along with a pained grunt coming from the captain. 

“Get off of her, Shittykawa, we have to start heading over, anyways.” 

You look over, only to give Iwaizumi a thumbs up as a thanks despite his scrunched up face as he glares daggers at Oikawa besides you. You go ahead and start packing up the bottles into the carrier and collecting anything else the boys may have missed. 

You take your time, to make sure the boys didn’t leave anything behind and as you zip up the bag a pair of feet enter your line of vision. You glance up to see Hanamaki standing there and the two of you are now one of the last ones to hang around. 

“Thanks for that,” Hanamaki says. You tilt your head, confused as you place the bag strap on your shoulder. “You helped relax the team a bit.” 

You smile a bit, walking in step with him, “Well, I’m just doing what I can so you guys can play to the best of your abilities!” 

“Where would we be without our manager?” Hanamaki chuckles, a lazy smirk on his face as he looks down at you. 

“At the bottom of a ditch, maybe,” you joke back. The two of you walked in silence as you enter the main court, ready for the match against Karasuno. 

Both teams begin warming up, doing practice spikes, serves, and receives. While you begin prepping your notebook along with setting water bottles and towels on the bench for easy access, you notice your hands shaking. You curse when a few of the bottles clatter to the ground. You’re unsure why you of all people were feeling the pre-game jitters. It’s not like you are the one playing. 

Surprisingly, and yet unsurprisingly, one of the new members came to help pick up the bottles. Even if he is the slightest bit terrifying, you know that Kyotani wouldn’t do anything towards you. 

“Thanks Kyotani-san!” You smile at him. He grunts in response, going back to doing warm ups. Yahaba watches the entire ordeal as he sets up a few balls for Kunimi. It is strange to see Kyotani act so normal around you. Well, as normal as he can be. Sure at first he was a little rude but now, he does what you ask and helps out when need be. 

“How’d she even get on Kyotani’s good side?” Kunimi asks. 

“Well,” Yahaba begins to explain, setting another ball as Kunimi goes to stand beside Yahaba deeming his warm up satisfactory, “She’s the only one that Iwaizumi-san finds terrifying. And since Kyotani only listens to Iwaizumi, I guess he sees her as the top of the chain.”

Kunimi narrows his eyes, “Didn’t realize we were a pack of dogs.” 

A loud sigh leaves your mouth as you notice Oikawa trying to piss off Karasuno’s setter, Kageyama. As he laughed maniacally at Kageyama, who’s laying on the floor, you march up to hit him on his head. 

“Shittykawa, go do your warm ups and stop trying to be a bully!” You scold. You immediately bow to the Karasuno team, who only nod in response with slight fear. “Sorry about him!” 

“Aw! Manager-chan! You’re the bully here!” Oikawa whines. You send him a glare and he could only quickly back up with fear in his eyes. “Iwa-chan~ Manager-chan’s being scary!” 

“Shut up and practice some serves!” Iwaizumi barks. “And maybe you should call her by her name.” Matsukawa and Hanamaki are sure to throw in more jabs towards their captain.

You walk back to what you were doing before, only to see Yahaba about to do something stupid. You toss your head back with a groan. Just a bit longer as the mom of this team. Truly, you wondered what it’d be like if you left Iwaizumi to deal with everyone here. 

Yahaba tosses a ball towards the new Karasuno manager. Knowing exactly why, you immediately came between the ball and the new manager, who is only slightly intimidated by you. 

“Yahaba! Stop being an idiot and-”

“Watch out!” 

A ball flies out of nowhere, about to hit you but before you know it, Shimizu, the other manager, blocks the ball for you. You blink, stunned. 

“Thank you, Shimizu-san, and sorry about him,” you bow apologetically again, before grabbing the ball Yahaba tossed and storming over towards him. Your brother watches with curious eyes behind him. 

“This is why the first year manager-in-training quit! Because you keep doing weird shit!” You scold Yahaba as you recall trying to recruit another manager before you graduate. With that being said, you shove the volleyball into his arms and walk away. 

“Geez,” Yahaba glares at your receding form, “she’d be more attractive if she wasn’t so mean all the time.” 

“Oi!” Kindaichi’s face scrunched up so much that it was honestly on the same level as Iwaizumi’s pissed off face. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.” Yahaba looks away with a shiver, despite the fact that he was one year younger, Yahaba realizes he shouldn’t badmouth you in front of your brother.. 

Then, before you know it, Coach Irihata gathers the team around giving a pre-match pep talk. You hold the clipboard in your hand tightly as you stand facing the team as well. But then all eyes were on you. 

“Oh!” You widen your eyes, realizing that you should say something. “You guys all practiced hard, so this is the moment you’ll see whether or not your work will bear fruit. But now’s not the time to have any regrets with whether or not you practiced hard enough, because you did. But do your best to leave it all on the court and have as little regrets as possible, yeah?” 

“Yeah!” They shout back, Oikawa walks up beside you with a playful smile on his face. You smile back before turning to look back at the team. Mainly the other third years and your brother and his friend, Kunimi. But you are sure to give each member a reassuring smile.

“Thank’s Manager-chan~! Always our number one supporter,” Oikawa starts off before going on about Karasuno being a formidable enemy. 

And there he goes, walking off before turning around, “I believe in-”

“We believe in you,” the other third years interrupt before he can finish, “Captain!” You smile, knowing that they were all going to be alright, only to burst out into giggles as the other third years begin to wreck him, telling him that they owe him ramen if he misses. 

“Oikawa, I want tonkotsu! With extra fish cake!” You shout at him. His eyebrows twitch as the first and second years start joining in at Hanamaki’s request. You’re also sure to yell out your order once more as Oikawa preps for his serve, much to the coaches delight. The two of them sighing and shaking their heads with some amusement. 

A soft smile makes its way to your face as Oikawa does his run up for his jump serve.

***

The pain in your knee surged up your leg as tears gathered in your eyes. Your face was contorted as you bit your bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears. The pulsing in your knee was overbearing along with the swellness around it. But the tears weren’t from the pain. No, it was from the idea that you may never play volleyball again. 

One of your teammates finally set you down after carrying you to the medical room and the athletic trainer immediately placed ice packs on your knee. 

The match was still on going but you knew you were out for the count. Especially as you saw your family, including your younger brother Yuutarou, already heading towards you. 

Days later at the doctor’s, you heard the exact words you never wanted to hear. 

“She can’t play volleyball anymore, maybe casually but even then. She needs a break from it before she can step on the court casually.” 

You spent your last few weeks at Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High watching your brother play volleyball at his practices. You didn’t have the guts to go back to your old team because of how they told you you needed to stop pushing yourself. When you saw the captain of the boys’ team fall over from his knee, you made sure to help him. 

“Oi, nee-chan, what are you-” Yuutaro stopped speaking the moment he saw your face. 

“Oikawa-san, you should rest your knee,” you mention softly, tears settling on your lashes as it fell from your face. His previously angry face from his knee giving out and someone he doesn’t even know helping him relaxed when his brown eyes met yours. “If you don’t, you’ll end up like me and you won’t be able to play volleyball ever again.” 

“That’s what I’ve been telling you, Shittykawa,” the boy you knew as Iwaizumi scowled. But not as harshly as usual, as far as you could tell from watching their friendship from afar. 

It was through meeting the two of them that pushed you to become manager at Aoba Johsai anyway, you weren’t quite ready to leave the world of volleyball yet. 

***

Your clipboard falls to the ground, echoing across the court shortly after the ball hit the ground, signaling the end of the rally, the set, and the match. 

If you had known that was going to be your last match, you would have done something different. Honestly, you don’t even know what you would have done, but just something. Something to stop the tears you felt building up behind your eyes and sobs that were trapped in your throat.

Your coach clears his throat and you realize you had to stand up to bow. You couldn’t even pay attention to what the coach was saying as he gave the last words to the team. All you could focus on was how they started crying. So you did what you could before they went off to thank the crowds in the stands, so that you could be strong for them. 

“I’m proud of you guys,” you say with a smile. Yuutarou and many others begin to freely let the tears run, trying their best to wipe them away. Then you look away, because you’re sure that if you stare at any one of them in the eye you’d break down with them. 

With that being said, you begin packing to leave. You’re struggling to grab the water bottle bag to carry but a hand reaches out to grab it instead for you. 

“I got it,” Matsukawa says. 

With a nod, you thank him and head out with the rest of the team. You walk between him and Yuutarou, rubbing his back reassuringly as he tries to quiet his sobs. The rest of the team is quiet. 

Until Yuda Kaneo came charging with hysterical sobs, surprising all of you. The other third years, Sawauchi Motomu and Shido Heisuke, appear to hold him back but he breaks free, to grab Iwaizumi and pat his head. 

“Oi! Stop causing a ruckus!” You yell, going up to whack Yuda on the head once you see spectators and other onlookers watching with curious eyes. But part of you is thankful for him to break the silence.

***

You sigh as you eat your ramen, listening to your brother cry about what he could have done better. You reach for a napkin to wipe his tears and snot the moment Matsukawa points it out.

“Nee-chan, I’m sorry for being a disappointment!” He holds onto you, burying his face in your shoulder. You stare at Iwaizumi and Matsukawa in front of you with a straight face. But the two of them just slurp up their ramen, leaving you to deal with your hysteric brother.

“So now you call me nee-chan! Stupid, I’m always proud of you now stop crying and eat or you’ll choke!” You scold. Yuutarou sniffles as he pulls away, the corner of his eyes turning a shade of pink from all the rubbing. 

“Re-really?” he asks as the other two third years start their own conversation. 

You roll your eyes with a smile plastered on your face, grabbing the chopsticks to grab at the extra fish cake you got, thanks to Oikawa. 

“Of course, you’re my little brother.” You pinch his cheek before plopping it in your mouth then slurping the rest of the ramen. 

He stares at you with wide eyes before nodding his head with a grunt and immediately stuffing his mouth with ramen. 

***

“Hey, Yuu, I’ll be home later,” you tell him with the other third years behind you, wanting to spend the rest of whatever time you have left with your friends. “Don’t wait up.” 

“Get home safe! See you all later!” He bows his head with the other underclassmen and you wave. 

Matsukawa waves as well, “Yeah, see you later.” Despite the fact that they all knew that this team will no longer remain. At the very least, for any official matches. But each team every year will always hold a special place in their hearts, no matter the outcome. 

Oikawa curses and walks off, surprising you the most when you slightly jump. All of you head off, walking to wherever your legs took you as the third years bullied Oikawa. The sun was still setting, so you weren’t too worried about the time. In fact, it was nice and peaceful. 

Well as peaceful as it could be. You knew that this was just a way to prolong the impending sadness. 

“Oi! Why do you guys have to be so angry and loud all the time!” You shout as Iwaizumi beats up Oikawa. 

“Iwa-chan’s the one that’s always mad!” Oikawa defends himself. 

“You were the one that brought it all up in the first place because you were mad!” Iwaizumi yellsat Oikawa. 

“Man, I’m just glad I won’t have to manage you guys anymore, hmmph,” you lie. You turn your head the other way with closed eyes and walk off. But then when you open your eyes again, you realize you all walked back to the gym. 

“Hey,” you turn around and point to the gym doors, “let’s play a few rounds. But I wanna join.” 

“Eh?! But, your knee!” Oikawa points at your knee in question. You wave him off, already heading to open the door. 

“It’s been a few years since I had to stop playing, as long as it’s casual, it’s fine!” 

And that’s how you find yourself out of breath and exhausted. You rest your hands on your knees as you were bent over and trying to catch your breath. It had been much too long since you’ve played volleyball but you had missed it. But perhaps playing with the boys’ team who’ve been training their entire three years at Aoba Johsai wasn’t the smartest idea. 

At least, to make it easier, you were with Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Hanamaki. 

“I feel like I’m going to puke out all my ramen!” Hanamaki yells out with a large grin. 

“This was a horrible mistake,” you pant out. All eyes go to you and then your knee but you stand up straight, waving your arms in front of you. “Oh no, no! I just also feel like throwing up! Also I haven’t played volleyball in so long it’s tiring!” 

“At least you don’t have to deal with Oikawa’s jump serves!” Matsukawa glares at the boy in question who only shrugs with a dumb smile on his face. 

“Wait, can I try receiving it?” You stare up at Oikawa with hopeful eyes.

“No!” The entirety of the third years shout, filling up the room with their voices.

“That’s a bad idea, I can’t even take it sometimes,” Iwaizumi lets out a groan as he feels the food in his stomach digesting. 

“Oh, come on, I was the best at receiving back in the day, I did play libero at some point” you pout. They continue to argue against you until you arch your brow and place your hands on your hips. “Oh I see, you guys are just sexist.” 

Each one of them narrow their eyes at you. 

“No it’s because of your kne-” Matsukawa tries to talk but you raise your hand immediately shutting him up. Even if you knew that they were actually just concerned about your knee. You really wanted to receive one of his serves.

“Nope, excuses, excuses.” 

“Okay but, if we can’t take it,” Hanamaki points to the other third years in the gym. “With your bad knee it’s going to end up terribly.” 

“Bet!” You stick your tongue out at them. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible manager?” Iwaizumi asks, rubbing his temple. 

“Okay but, the underclassmen aren’t here. And I’m not your manager anymore. Just one receive. One!” You plead, putting your hands together as you bow your head. 

The third years exchange glances with each other before Oikawa lets out a sigh, grabbing a ball and going to the other end of the court. Matsukawa taking his place on your side. 

“Fine, one serve, and it’s not going to be my hardest one, final offer!” 

With a twinkle in your eye you bounce over to the middle of the court, ready to receive the infamous jump serve from the one and only, Oikawa Tooru. The other third years watch, worry but also excitement lay on their faces. 

“Bring it Oikawa!” You yell with a grin. 

The smack of the ball rang through the gym. And with the utmost concentration, you move towards the ball and receive it. It wasn’t perfect, as it didn’t go to the setter’s position. But you still received it. Expecting the heavy impact, you’re sure to roll back into the hit before standing back up into a jump. 

“Sorry! Cover!” You shout running back onto the court. 

The third years cheer as they set up an attack from your receive and Iwaizumi spikes it down to the other side. Before you know it, Hanamaki holds you up in the air on his shoulders with everyone on your side cheering for your receive. 

“Eyyy! Nice receive!!” Matsukawa calls out, his hands cupping his mouth so it was clearer when it got to you. You grin with a thumbs up, your knee pulsating a bit even as Hanamaki set you back down. Even Oikawa stares at you with an impressed look. 

“I think I’ll have to sit the rest of this out, actually,” you murmur as you rub the back of your neck and lean on your stronger leg instead. 

“I told you you shouldn’t have done it,” Iwaizumi sighs, offering to carry you to the side. You wrap your arms around his neck, totally unaware of the faint pink tinting his cheeks. 

“It’s fine, it was fun!” Iwaizumi sets you down on the ground, and you sit with your injured knee straight out. The others stare at you with a concerned look and you wave them off. “It’s fine, go have fun, I was team mom for a reason!” You reach for your bag and pull out an emergency ice pack and you promptly break the pouch inside of it. The ice pack immediately turns cold after a bit of shaking and you place it on your knee to watch as the boys somehow played a 4 vs. 3 player game. 

As the sun sets, soon enough you and all of the third years start cleaning up the gym. 

“Oi,” Matsukawa calls out to you, “it’s fine, we can clean up.” Matsukawa grabs you by your shoulders and urges you to go sit down. 

“Yeah, you’ve done enough for the team, always looking after your kids,” Hanamaki jokes as he goes to help take down the net. 

“Yeah but, I wasn’t able to get another manager for next year.” You stare at the ground as you sit back down on the ground. They all glance at you, stopping what they’re doing for a second. 

“Yahaba scared her away, it’s not your fault,” Iwaizumi assures you. Still, it doesn’t sit well with you but you nod your head anyway. 

“I guess,” you say half heartedly. 

Oikawa calls out for everyone, and soon enough all eyes turn to their captain. 

Hanamaki reaches out his hand towards Oikawa, with his eyebrows furrowed, “Hey, don’t do it! Let’s end this on a good note!” You open your mouth to say something but immediately close it.

“Shut up!” Oikawa cries out, tears already at the corner of his eyes. “Thank you for the last three years!” He bites his bottom lip, trying to control his sobbing as the tears start streaming down his face. Your brows scrunch up as your lips and the sobs that you’ve tried to keep in from earlier in the day finally escape your mouth. 

“Damn it, I told you!” Hanamaki wipes away his tears. 

You slowly stand back up and with your fists clenched up by your side, you bow your head. “Thank you for letting me be your manager!” 

You watch as your tears hit the gym floor and you don’t bother to wipe away the tears, knowing more will replace them. Soon enough, you feel arms wrapped around you and it’s Oikawa hugging you. Other third years echo their thanks. And soon enough there’s a big group hug between all the third years with you in the middle. 

Tears were shed everywhere, on all of the third years' shirts (along with snot because that’s what happens when you cry). And though you all lost, you’re all glad it was with each other and no one else. 

It takes awhile for everyone to catch their breath and clean up the rest of the gym. But everyone settles down, going back to normal but knowing that once they hit their bed that night, the tears would come back. 

You’re one of the last ones left, like always, and you realize this would be the last time you’re the last one in the gym to make sure everything’s left how it’s supposed to be. It’s bittersweet, knowing your volleyball season has come to an end. Perhaps it’s more bitter than sweet, though.

You finish zipping up your bags when a pair of legs appears in front of you, calling out your name. You feel your face flush and you don’t look up until they speak up.

“Here, I’ll walk you home since your brother isn’t here.”

[quotes-of-dreamland]

Mod Lor, *please* take this as an excuse to ramble, what you've written is *awesome* so far

Mod Lor: OH BOY ok in that case I'll explain sorta what happened after RtD and Lor's relationship with Magolor because it's what I've thought about the most... I mean I did write what was technically 2 ficlets about it, but they're the same event from Lor and Magolor's perspectives. However I'm nervous so I haven't posted them anywhere outside Discord...

Anyways, so. I already mentioned that Lor woke up after/during the collapse of Another Dimension. I say that because it's the first time Lor is seen acting on her own without any influence from Magolor, because he fucking died and dead people can't tell a strong and independent boat what to do. That isn't to say living people can, because Lor still does whatever she wants, and it just so happens that maybe sometimes what she wants is what she's being told to do.

So, this leads to one of the more interesting times in Lor's life, which lasted maybe a couple weeks to a few months. I'll get to that later.

She's been woken up in an unfamiliar place, and also in a completely new era by this point. See, Lor was initially put in the Haldera volcano somewhere around 100 years of age, probably a bit younger. By this point she's closer to 30,000 years old. To get an idea of that sort of time frame, Nova is closer to 70,000 years, while Galacta Knight is only a few centuries older than Lor.

So, as someone's Dark Meta Knight very eloquently put it in an rp, she's old as balls.

However, she's barely spent any of that time conscious. She wasn't aware of how much time had passed until attempting to go back to Halcandra with Landia, and the first thing she noticed besides "wait what the fuck, Landia has visibly aged" was the fact that Egg Engines was visibly degraded and rusting over. Now, that wouldn't have meant much to most; exposed metal rusts when exposed to rain over time. Simple oxidation. Here's the thing, though:

Lor was put in the volcano before that island of Halcandra had a proper water cycle. She'd been unconscious long enough for the place to develop weather patterns.

So, that was a pretty big shock. Then Landia basically explains "yeah so, uhhh, funny story, you can't live here anymore, times have changed and not for the better" before they go back to their roost. So, y'know, that's just great, and Lor goes back to Popstar to try and figure out what to do with her life. She's alone, everyone she ever knew is dead except Landia (but they don't count because they've now had a whopping single one-sided conversation), and she doesn't even know where she is beyond the name of the galaxy and planet.

That's where she finds herself for a bit of time following RtD. But then, a very interesting thing happens. Lor's chilling, still coming to terms with Everything, and then suddenly an unconscious egg she's never seen in her life just. Manifests in her equivalent of the living room. You know, because that's just a normal Tuesday occurrence apparently!

She initially doesn't really grasp the severity of the situation, because she doesn't know this is Magolor and that he's been dead for as long as she's been awake post-volcano. After sorting out the mutual feelings of "what the fuck?", Magolor passes out again, and Lor realizes "oh wait this kid ain't doing too great" and gives him medical attention. Which is good, because if she hadn't, he probably would've met Morpho again and maybe not been yeeted back into the world of the living for a second time.

So, initially, their dynamic is pretty different from what it is now.

Lor looks at Magolor as suspicious, but she has standards and isn't just gonna abandon him while he's still recovering from some event he can't even talk about without panicking. Basically a reluctant "ok fine you can live here and I'll look after you until you get better and we can figure things out after that". There was some confusion about the fact that apparently everyone seems to hate him for no apparent reason, but she took it as him being in a similar situation to her where he just didn't fit in with what society wanted from him.

Magolor doesn't really know how to feel about Lor at first. She wasn't exactly the most polite when he woke up, but wasn't really mean to him either. Interestingly, she also didn't seem to remember him at all or know about what he did. He knew things that she didn't, and he wasn't really able or willing to tell the whole story.

He wouldn't be until years later, and even then it was because he was put in a situation where he didn't have much of a choice. Thanks Meta Knight! Needless to say, that was a rough time for them both.

Still, it didn't take super long for Lor to go from reluctant caretaker to "I've decided this egg is now my son because he accidentally called me mom once when he was really tired and on pain medication" and Magolor subsequently deciding maybe the real source of limitless power is the found family he got along the way.

Also if you asked Magolor about any of that he would deny it. His mom is NOT a boat, no sir, this relationship is purely for mutual benefits, and not because he doesn't have any way to go back to his "real" family but still requires love and care from someone he can trust and be open with. Pay no mind to the affectionate nicknames Lor gives him like "my little peach boy" or "resident hazelnut" because they mean NOTHING to him and do not help to fill any type of emotional void. This is all extremely true, he is not lying, he has never told a lie in his life, he doesn't even know what that word means.

Needless to say, it doesn't take much to see through that. Even if your vision is as bad as Lor's.

Lor cares he and there's nothing he can do about it. Not that he would do anything about it in the first place. Again he wouldn't admit that.

However, all of this does lead to shenanigans. Despite the age and life experience difference, Magolor gets to take on the role of being the voice of reason, while Lor, being a research ship, likes to test things, like Meta Knight's patience, or Magolor's sanity, or the law... you get the idea. She might be a parental figure now, but that doesn't mean Lor's become wholly mature or stopped being impulsive.

[zuffer-weird-girl]

'What does the devil fear..?'

You know those days when you wake up and feels like... not wanting to exist at all?

He was having one of those. And he didn't like it one bit. All due to a night terror of his.

Just about two months ago you were almost shoted and kidnapped due to your relationship with him and your strings with the yakusa... not only you were a easy target by many rivals gangs, but also the heroes were constantly at your back... his rage and disgust only growing even more at them for involving someone that he parcially apreciated and wanted to leave them at peace.

He felt like utterly trash when he scolded you once for being late for a date, only for you to explain that one hero named sir. Nighteye stopped you along with bubble girl on the street to interrogate you about what were your exactly affiliations with Chisaki Kai.

He knew that when he entered your life... your whole world was turned upside down. You weren't exactly safe in anywhere, everyone on this stupid and sick society looked down at his angel for only being with him.

Guilt wasn't a constant feeling on this man's life... but now? He felt that this was consuming him, little by little.

Not only that but... he is a mess. Despite his arrogance, he knew ever since he was little; due to those two that he reduses to call mother and father; that he was... broken. Not physically but mentally ill.

Cursed.

Pops was kind and generous enough to take him out of the streets and the once hell he lived in... but yet, after so many years, never he found a way to show his gratitude to the old man... and the solutions he had to bring the yakusa to their once glory were neglected immediately by his mentor.

This angered him to no ends... why didn't he listened? Was he that... useless and broken?

Normally he would voice out his frustations to you... he felt light and relaxed when he just vented with you for the first time... yet extremely frustated at himself for just depositing all of his own frustations on the first and only person who said it out loud that loved him and him reciprocated... honestly loved him, not by fear or because someone or him demanded it.

Love... also another thing he couldn't understand... neither voice it out loud. He was a man of action, not words. But he was just so awkward and his cursed mysophobia didn't helped him at all.

Never on his life he felt good about touching someone. You weren't sick, nothing about you made him cringe in disgust. Yet he was so hesitant and aprehensive of touching you... corrupting that sweet and angelic skin with his own disgusting disease called 'quirk'.

He sighed, feeling all of his body way too cold than normal... his hand coming to fist the area where his dark and cold heart layed on.

He didn't deserved living. He didn't deserved being taken in by the yakusa.... He didn't deserved his angel.

All he deserved was to burn on the deepest flames of hell... and he didn't even doubt or neglected tgat as soon as he died he was going straight forward to this place... where he belonged.

Away from the one he loved. Yes, he loved (Y/n)... it took way longer tham necessary for him to realize that... but what does it matter?

You will be taken away from him at any moment or just leave him in the dark by hatred, fear or even disgust.

The thought killed him, hurted more than one or two stabs would... he was already used to pain... but not this kind.

His breath quickened and he tried to take slow breaths, in and out, but he was far too gone when the disgusting warm liquid accumulated on his eyes and were threatening to spill from his eyes and fall on his pillow.

A knock on the door caught his attention, he didn't even bothered looking at who was opening the door as he numbly stared at the ceiling, still gripping on his shirt and bed sheets like his life depended on it.

"Kai, Pops asked me to call you." Kurono spoked, frowning hsi eyebrows at seing that his childhood friend didn't even looked at him "we... are going to-"

"I don't want it." He hoarsely spoked out, cringing at hearing how his voice sounded so weak.

"Want to at least come? Probably the old man is going to spill some news from the others gangs. It could be useful."

Kai shooked his head and did something that left Hari with wide eyes, noticing how Chisaki was NOT well at all.

"You can leave Hari. Just please leave me alone." He numbly spoked as he still looked up at the ceiling.

Hari. Not Chrono, not Kurono, not block head or other stupid title. Chisaki NEVER used his first name. Not even comenting that HE ASKED for him to leave. Not demanded.

He nodded hesitantly and closed the door, scratching at the back of his neck as he made his way to where Pops was waiting. Just as he entered he started to tell Pops about the situation... the elder widening his eyes before letting out a sigh and getting up as well.

He knocked on the door and put on a smirk before completpy falling when he heard numb sniffles... Chisaki still layed on his back and gaze on the ceiling, just like Hari described it for him.

"My boy you're feeling sick?" He asked with crossed arms, furrowing his eyebrows at not receiving a answer "Chisaki." He called again, the young man only blinked before muttering that he was listening.

"What happened Kai? You surely aren't okay..."

"... Hari will take my place on my duties today. Tell him that if it isn't much asked Pops."

Okay. This was dead serious. Chisaki trusting other people to do his own work? His brat wasn't alright. Definitely not.

"Pops with all respect I have towards you... I would likd to be left alone, if its not much asked." Pops furrowed even more his eyebrows and nodded, freezing in worry when he heard his sucessor's trembling breath.

He got out and was soon metted with Irinaka and Chrono, both with crossed arms whille waiting.

"He is sick?" Mimic asked, Pops shocking his head as he brought one hand to his chin as he thought for a second.

"He is acting weird since the accident with miss (Y/n) but never on my life I saw him on that state." Chrono muttered, turning his head at Pops when he hummed.

"... the only person who can put some sense and easy the usual beast that is Chisaki, is that girl..." Pops mused out loud before snapping his fingers with a 'oh!' before he looked at both Chrono and Mimic.

"What's the order boss?" Mimic already spoked, Pops furrowing his eyebrows a bit at looking at the closed door before he sighed.

"Bring Chisaki's little medication. I will call (Y/n) to warn about you both picking her up."

Both nodded before they went towards the exit of the house, Pops walking away thorigh the halls as he picked his phone and started to hit the spefic numbers.

"Good morning my dear (Y/n). I apologize to bother you in such a hour, but mind doing me a big favor? I would be very grateful of it" He spoked with his phone om his ear.

~

You nervously fisted the material of the clothing of your leg as Hari drived with Mimic's on the passing seat.

Both had picked you up just when you got out from your last therapy session. You had to apologize to your therapist for receiving a call on the middle of the session, but she was understanding on seing your look of worry when you saw Pops calling and explaining the situation.

"(Y/N). Not going to lie. I was fucking scared when he called me by my first name and with that tone of voice." Chrono spoked suddenly as he turned on a street.

"Yeah. Things are dead ass serious. He didn't got up ever since then." Mimic agreed with his friend as be looked a bit at you "Think you can fix it?"

"I hope so... if neither of you knows what is happening or got him out even despite knowing him more than I do... what gives me the vhance of vhanging something?"

Both bitterly let out a chuckle, Mimic almost quacking at your coment while you arched one eyebrow at both.

"Fuck miss you're not that dumb. Come on. Overhaul is with you for a reason."

"We may know Chisaki longer, but you're definitely the only one that actually know his... whole persona. After all... tell us one more person that touched him and he reciprocated without intentiond of killing?"

You furrowed your eyebrows together, adoring the words but yet still worried. Pops himself told you that Chisaki was... devasted, and he didn't even knew the motive.

The car stopped and you didn't even let neither of the man open the door for you, anxiously getting out if the vehicle and making your way inside the Shie Hassaikai residence.

"I'm relieved that you came." Pops smiled for a bit before he guided you through the halls, even despite you knowing already that place like it was your own.

You stopped in front of the door, Pops pattimg your shoulder and saying that no one would be listened, but gently asked you for at least ease down the storm that it was probably inside the dark brow haired man.

You took a shaking breath before gently opening the door and closing it behind you. Your heart shattwring at seing that what Kurono and pops described you of was the true.

The only difference and the most hurtful one... was that you saw that even despite the numb face he was wearing it, he had tears slipping down is face.

You took slow steps to be on his side, before you jumped a bit at the suddem breath he took.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked, voice broken but a hint of annoyance on it.

"I was worried. I got the news that you didn't even moved ever since morning." You sitted on the bed, feeling your form shake a bit die to your nerves.

"... you should go." You made a confused and hurt noise before your eyes soften in worry at seing the frow on his face as he still didn't broke his look from the ceiling.

"Don't play dumb. You should go. You're only getting hurt due to my affiliations..."

"Well-" you cooed blocking his view with your head, smiling down at him as his eyes widen a bit at seing you in there instead of the monotonous and cold ceiling. "I did sign up for it when I fell for you didn't I?"

Wrong choice of words apparently. You noticed that the moment Chisaki jjst closed his eyes to prevent him to look at your own as he let out a shattered breath.

"You're sick. Sick. Definitely sick." He shook his head and you furrowed your eyebrows as you distanced your self a bit from him.

Chisaki could call you by 1001 nicknames or titles, but 'sick' was one that he neglected of ever using it on you unless he was rarely feeling playfull... never like this. Complete serious.

"Why is that? I will have you know i did my exams." You tried to joke a bit but flinches when he got up abruptly, looking at you with what anyone else could be described with rage.

But you knew better... his eyes were screaming only one sentence.. 'don't say that.'

He wasn't mad at you... no. He was mad at himself. But why though?

"You still has the courage of asking? (Y/n)." He growled while lowering his head, fisting the back of his head in one glived hand "How can you say this without a hint of regret? Without a hint of fear for your life? Hell you were almost shoted and kidnapped some months ago because of me!"

"Hey, if this is about that, you know it wasn't your fault my devil, we ta-"

"No. You can't convince me that it wasn't my fault. Because it was. It is my fault that your damn life turnes to hell because of my selfish wish of having you by my side." He growled while you furrowed your eyebrows at seimg the familiar yet undesirable hives start to form on his skin.

"Kai, love, calm down-" you tried to touch him but he flinched away with wide and red eyes.

"Don't. Don't just be a damn suicidal idiot! You do know what my quirk does, so why you still insist on touching me?! Don't you know I can kill you qnd put it back like nothing ever changed?! I do this everyday without regrets!"

The hives were getting bigger while he got up on his feet, he started to scrub feevently at his forearm and left hand as you got up hesitantly as well.

"Kai. I know this. I know all that. But you never used your quirk on me without a damn good reason."

"See it? I already used it. Nobody can tells that I won't just-"

"But do you WANT to kill me Chisaki Kai?" You spoke a bit more sternly, getting a bit creeped out when he laughed bitterly.

"Of course I fucking don't! But I didn't had the intentions of killing that garbage either when I was young! Although I have no regrets of that decision." He growled while he scratched his skin as his eyes were wide and a vein was almost popping out in his temple.

"Kai this has nothing to do with us-!"

"Oh please don't act like you didn't feared me once in your life. You will sure one day woke up from that delusion you vreated of me and will leave me on the dark." He growled while lowering his head, cringing when he felt that known red fluid.

"Why do you say that?! Why do you keep thinking that I will just ran or leave you Chisaki?!" You opened in your arms in disbelief as you almost screamed.

"BECAUSE YOU SHOULD DAMMIT!" You flinched at the string and thundering shout he let out, he stopped scrubbing in his arm to make desperate and angru hands gestures while he sinply gave up on controling his tears.

"WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I AM A CURSE ON YOUR DAMN LIFE (Y/N)?! FUCK!" he brought one of his hands to cover his face as he cringed at felling his glives getting wet from his tear "I AM A MONSTER! A KILLER! A YAKUSA! A MURDER! HELL, A DAMN SOCIOPATH!"

You felt all fo your body going cold but not because of fear... it was because you were seing your lover most probably worst breakdown...

"Kai-"

"NOT EVEN COMMENTING THAT THOSE DISGUSTING SICK HEROES GET ON YOUR BACK BECAUSE OF ME! WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU COULD SIMPLY WALK ON THE STREET WITHOUT DIRTY LOOKS?! HUH?!"

His tears fell almost violently on the floor as you slowly took one step at a time towards him... calmly, slowly...

"I RUIN EVERTHING (Y/N)! AND AS MUCH AS I LOVE YOU, CRAVE YOUR PRESENCE BESIDES ME, I CAN'T JUST PRETEND THAT I DIDN'T DESTROYED YOUR LIFE WITH MY SELFISH WISH OF HAVING YOU AS MY GIRLFRIEND DAMMIT!"

He hund his head low, his shoulder shaking violently as he still continued his vent.

"Why..?!" He cried hand once in his head falling miserably on his side as he looked at you, the most broken and saddest loom you ever saw on Chisaki's face.

"WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I DESERVE IT BEING LEFT ALONE AND THAT YOU ONLY WILL GET HURT, BECAUSE AND BY ME?!"

You blinked your own tears while Chisaki just let out a miserable sob and fell to his knees on the ground, gripping each dide of his face with his hands as he miserably let out all what he had bottled up...

You wiped your tears away from your face with a scowl, more determined than ever as you kneeled down in front of him.

"Hey." You called, no response. "Look at me." He inly shook his head stubbornly as he bitted in his own tongue to stop the river of tears.

You clenched your teeth together as you grabbed onto his shoulders and touched foreheads with him.

"Chisaki Kai look at me!" You whisper yelled, finally catvhing his attention as he looked into your eyes, still with jaw clemvhed while the tears stopped with a fraction of seconds... eyesbrows furrowed.

"First. I did shower and sterilized my hands." He sobbed while you winced... okay this only worsened.

"Second. Kai for God's sake, I knew where I was getting into when I met you... being part of the yakusa or having a relationship with the leader leads to that! You warned me!"

"So why the hell didn't you lis-"

"Because I am in love with you!" You said gently while carefully lifting his head a bit while cupping his face in your hands, him lookimg down at you. "Kai you made me fall for you! Being whatever you are or aren't."

He scoffed and went to look down before his breath got caught on his throat when you were close to his face... your warm breath spreading on his face as you looked up at him.

"Is it so wrong of me to love you?" He wemt to speak but you grabbed his hand with a hush "No is not. I am a full grow adult just as you, and know damn well of the consequences of dating the leader of the Shie Hassaikai."

He started to calm down with his tremblimg, savoring like a starved animal from your sweet carress of your thimbs in his face and hand.

"Heroes on my back and dirty looks on the street? One answer to them. Fuck. Those. Sick. Bastards." You giggled at the look he gave it to you "I am dating the most handsome and overprotective man I ever met. I feel safe around you, it doesn't matter what you do or did, because I know who at least my boyfriend is."

He breathed out a sigh, shoulders sagging as he got enough strength to get up alomg with you to sit on the bed instead.

"And one last thing... I can take many bullets or shouts... but what truly hurts me more on this, is seing the love of my life suffering over something he can't control it..." you nuzzled your nose against his as bis breath got caught on his throat "And that's alright. Because when people love each other they suffer with the other pain and problems... and Kai, even if you don't say that out loud, you show it to me, everyday, that you care. That I matter something for you." You wiped one tear away from his cheek woth a smile

"And that is all I ever wanted. You're honest Kai. Bold honest. And I am so lucky to be yours... don't just say that I should leave you... because not only I know you would send precepts to haunt me, but because I won't do it. Simple as that. Trust me..." you pleaded with a smile.

His breath catched on his throat again as he finally let out a mixture of a broken sob and a scoff, burring his face on your neck as he let out more cries, grabbing onto your shirt like if je let it go, ghose words he just had listened were mere lies or hallucinations.

"I'm sorry..!" He muffled cried on your neck as you sighed through your nose with a smile... hugging him with one arm as your hand came up to stroke his hair.

"Sorry about what I wonder..?" You sadly commented "For being the men you are? Please dont be sorry about that... I love with all my soul the man I fell for..." he let out a broken whimper as he buried even more his face on your nevk to muffle his cries.

"I am a fucking sociopath-"

"My sociopath."

"(Y/N) stop. We both know that you would be-"

"Crying like a baby alone in my room watching series if I didn't have you." You giggled and stroked his hair more, feeling his eyebrows furrowing in your skin.

He scoffed but relaxed a bit in your hold, getting up from your neck to rest his head on your forehead with a sigh.

"My head... dammit." He growled while lifting his hand a bit to rest on his temple.

He opened his eyes when he felt you wiping a liquid that was scrolling down his nose... his face burning in embarrassment and disgust. But yet he sighed while nuzzling his head on you.

"Don't just touch that, is disgusting." He growled at your giggles but smiled no less...

His angel was here to stay... whether he derving it or not.

[nblenasabrewing]

Does Lena have PTSD?

This excellent post from @drummergirl231-2 goes into a detailed analysis about Della and the examples showing possible PTSD. I, being who I am, wanted to look at the same for Lena. Full credit goes to them for the idea and format!

According to the DSM-5, in order for a person to be diagnosed with PTSD, they must have a certain number of symptoms from eight categories: Criteria A through H.

For a diagnosis of PTSD, someone needs: to meet Criterion A to have at least 1 symptom from Criterion B to have at least 1 symptom from Criterion C to have at least 2 symptoms from Criterion D to have at least 2 Symptoms from Criterion E to meet Criteria F, G, and H

DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional. I do NOT have a degree in anything related to psychology and simply enjoy dissecting the layers of a fictional character. If you feel you fit any of the criteria, please see a professional for a real diagnosis. This isn’t something that can be easily self-diagnosed, and a professional diagnosis would open you to more opportunities for help.

Lena does and doesn’t fit the criteria in general for PTSD. She’s certainly suffered from traumatic events, but the event is more... her entire life. She’s a classic child abuse victim, which makes her more of a candidate for C-PTSD. 

Complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD; also known as complex trauma disorder) is a psychological disorder that can develop in response to prolonged, repeated experience of interpersonal trauma in a context in which the individual has little or no chance of escape. Being stuck with Magica for fifteen years absolutely contributes to Lena’s current issues. C-PTSD and PTSD share similarities, there are a distinct differences - mainly that PTSD focuses on one event and the effect it has on a person long term, while C-PTSD focuses on years of repeated trauma. However, there’s no approved criterion yet for C-PTSD. So I’m using the PTSD criterion with some added explanation where C-PTSD would be applicable. 

Criterion A: The traumatic event

A person must be exposed to one or more events involving threatened or actual death, threatened or actual serious injury, or threatened or actual sexual violation in one of the following ways:

Direct involvement

Witnessing the event happen to someone else

Hearing about it happen to a loved one

Repeatedly hearing details about traumatic events, such as police officers repeatedly hearing stories of abuse

The obvious example here: Lena effectively died. Twice. Following that, she was trapped in a realm where she couldn’t be seen or heard by anyone and she couldn’t touch anything for six months (give or take). Her first interaction with anything since she had been trapped there was smacking the Boggle case in Friendship Hates Magic! And even she’s surprised by that.

In addition, she spent fifteen years with Magica in her shadow, who effectively acted as an abusive parental figure. She’s proven to be an expert in gaslighting, and knows exactly how to manipulate Lena - by hanging the promise of freedom over her head and reminding her repeatedly that people will think she’s a monster if they find out the truth about her.

Criterion B: Intrusive Symptoms

Expected or unexpected reoccurring, involuntary, and intrusive upsetting memories

Repeated nightmares related to the traumatic event

Some form of dissociation, such as flashbacks, where the individual truly feels the traumatic event is happening again

Strong emotional distress when exposed to internal or external triggers associated with the traumatic event

Strong bodily reactions (such as rapid heart rate) when exposed to reminders of the traumatic event.

Nightmares: While we can’t say for absolute sure that Lena has nightmares outside of Magica’s influence via the helmet in NOKH, the fact that no one is surprised by her nightmares does seem to imply that’s she probably had more than she’s letting on. Lena’s biggest fear is turning into Magica, after all - it’s no surprise she would have dreams along that line.

Emotional distress, strong bodily reactions: These really come out in Violet’s library, when Lena gets overwhelmed and tries to hide. The fish-eye view of everyone trying to talk to her while she sees Magica over their shoulders was most likely meant to imply she was having at least the start of a panic attack.

In addition, her reaction to Webby calling her (looking like Magica) a monster was pretty extreme. Again, the dream world setting makes things a bit wobbly, but given everything we know about Lena up to this point, and the fact that she yelled at Magica for saying they’re both monsters, it feels safe to assume she’d be angry and upset and scared if anyone ever called her a monster (again, something Magica constantly used against her.)

Criterion C: Avoidance

An individual with PTSD will frequently avoid reminders of the traumatic event in one of the following ways:

Avoiding thoughts, feelings, or physical sensations that trigger memories of the traumatic event

Avoiding people, places, conversations, activities, objects, or situations that bring up memories of the traumatic event

Whether the nightmares were caused by Magica or not, their effect on Lena is real and pretty easy to see. She sets up an entire sleepover just so the kids can help keep her awake. Avoiding sleep to avoid nightmares is pretty extreme.

She also continues to keep secrets from everyone despite Webby’s constant reassurances that they all care about her and don’t think she’s anything like Magica, because the alternative is having to talk about it or worse, have her fears confirmed.

Criterion D: Negative changes in thoughts and mood

The inability to remember important details of the traumatic event

Persistent and elevated negative thoughts about oneself, others, or the world

Exaggerated self-blame or blame of others for the cause or consequence of the traumatic event

Pervasive negative emotional state (anger, fear, shame, etc.)

Loss of interest in previously enjoyed activities

Feeling isolated or detached from others

Difficulty experiencing positive emotions

Lena’s opinion of herself seems to be pretty low. We only get one episode to really see it, but her fear of turning into Magica and active attempts to avoid such an outcome definitely make it seem like she still considers herself “evil”, and is trying to make up for it. She also readily gives in and says, “I am her”, essentially giving up on herself.

The dream adventures also excellently illustrate how Lena feels “Othered” from everyone else - they get butterfly wings, she gets weird monster wings. She falls behind at Dewey High and is separated from the others. She’s the only one in Louie’s dream, aside from Louie himself, to experience any sort of physical change. Even when she tries to be happy with them, she can’t keep up the facade.

And before all of this there’s the classic example of her being jealous of Violet (under the guise of protecting Webby from being tricked again). She immediately assumes the worst of Violet and follows Webby around telling her not to trust Violet.

Criterion E: Alterations in reactivity that started or worsened after the traumatic event

Irritability or aggressive behavior

Impulsive or self-destructive behavior

Hypervigilance (feeling constantly on-guard, or like danger is lurking around every corner)

Heightened startle response

Problems with concentration

Sleep disturbances, such as difficulty falling or staying asleep, or restless sleep

Lena’s personality in season one was mostly that of the sarcastic, irritating cool teenager who can’t be bothered. Under that, she was an unwilling slave to Magica, and while she did show irritable tendencies toward her, those can be forgiven as “Magica is terrible and provokes her.”

Season two, on the other hand, shows us a much different teenager - one who snaps easily and seems constantly frustrated by her own perceived shortcomings. Those emotions, of course, come out on the other kids (i.e. snapping at Huey and Violet). And while all of that can be attributed to her inability to sleep, which is being driven by Magica, Frank’s already said this isn’t the last we’ll see of Lena’s emotoinal growth and negative feelings.

Criterion F: The above symptoms must last for more than one month.

Obviously time is relative in Ducktales. Given everything that was going on around them, we can assume she’s been home for around a month-ish. Donald left for a month-long cruise two episodes before Lena came back, and everything after that has to have taken place within that month or it would have been way too obvious something was up. And again, Frank has said this is going to come up again. But even while she was still in the Shadow Realm, she was showing signs of trauma.

Criterion G: Distress from symptoms significantly impairs the individual’s ability to function in multiple areas of life (social, occupational, etc.).

While we haven’t seen much of Lena’s daily life, we do know a few things - before returning, she was living in Webby’s shadow, presumably following her around and getting comfortable in her shadow-y life. Violet throws a complete monkey wrench into that comfortable life, and Lena reacts... poorly, to say the least. She initially refuses to take responsibility for the tulpas feeding off her own negative feelings, continuing to project all the reasons she hates herself onto Violet (”She’s a spy, she’s a second-rate me,” etc.).

In NoKH we see that the triplets aren’t quite used to the fun, happy persona Lena tries to project, which immediately gets a frustrated yell and fire flaring up. She’s so worried about trying to be Good that her anxiety bubbles over into her life. She’s also constantly keeping secrets, something that is, unfortunately, normal for her, but not normal overall.

Criterion H: The symptoms are not due to substance abuse, medication side-effects, or another condition.

So the real issue comes in here - while there’s no medication or substance abuse, there is an outside force. Most of what we see of Lena’s symptoms are due to increasing sleep deprivation via Magica’s brainwave helmet. By the time NoKH starts she’s already gone at least several days without sleep, and it’s obvious the dreams are deeply affecting to her, to a point where she arranges an entire sleepover with her friends just to keep from going to sleep. There’s no way to know what she was dreaming about (although I have a few theories), but it almost certainly involved Magica, the main cause of her trauma. And we see how understandably upset she gets when she’s finally face to face with Magica.

In conclusion:

Lena is a complicated character with a lot of different factors playing into who she is, but there’s little doubt that after fifteen years of emotional/psychological abuse, two deaths, and six months trapped in what could almost be summarized as an isolation chamber, that Lena has some serious trauma. And while Magica influenced a lot of NOKH, it should also be noted that Magica, as her abuser, most likely acts as her trigger now. She spends the entire dream sequence running away from Magica, terrified to confront her. And while she has an amazing, empowering moment at the end of the episode, I’m sure this is going to come back up again.

(***All GIFs by me)

[cadomoisspokenfor]

Legion Rewatch Notes,

Chapter 4:

Frizzytop

I theorized in episode 2 that David could see through the 4th wall, or at least into a different universe. At the start of this episode Oliver outright breaks the 4th wall. Perhaps powerful reality benders just have that capability. If David knows, and Oliver knows, then Farouk definitely knows.

“A great philosopher once wrote, ‘In times of peace, the war like man attacks himself.’ This is the route of all our problems.”

“We are the route of all our problems. Our confusion, our anger, our fear of things we don’t understand.”

If we carry those 2 quotes throughout the rest of the show, then no doubt the tragedies that happen later on are caused by a collective misunderstanding of each other. And a collective lashing out at that misunderstanding of each other.

“Violence, in other words, is ignorance.”

The most central theme of the show is empathy vs fear. I s’pose whenever there’s a conflict in the show we’re supposed to be asking whether the characters should answer with empathy or fear. Certain characters lives have revolved heavily around fear. And that informs their decision making quite a bit. This will all come up again at multiple points throughout the show.

Syd... probably can’t break the 4th wall. So maybe it’s most logical to interpret this as her inner monologue. Very Jessica Jones esque.

The same voice lines from when Syd was searching for David in episode 1 are played. I guess there go to whenever Davids lost (whether in the world or in his mind) is to transmit Syds voice calling his name in hopes he’ll hear it and come back.

Kerry can pick locks.

The concept of “bad mutants” is well established amongst the veteran summerland crew. Ptonomy’s caution about David is probably because he feels he has a selfish vibe, and that’s a well known red flag of “bad mutants.”

It should also be noted he’s partly afraid of him because he has so much trouble understanding him. His powers, which when used affectively are essentially the ability to understand where someone’s coming from, keep getting overrided by Davids.

It’s now to the point where Ptonomy is doubting his own ability to tell what’s real and what’s not real. He was pretty confident he’d always know somehow in episode 2. Now, not so much.

Ptonomy very early on is open to the idea that David both has powers and psychological issues. “He’s unstable. You try hearing voices for 10-15 years, self medicate with hard drugs and then get dumped in a looney bin.”

Ptonomy also determines that because of his instability combined with the fact he has powers, David is a bomb waiting to go off.

I suppose if we’re trying to figure out their logic with the whole “the combination of being mentally ill and having powers makes him dangerous”, and considering that their right now going over an incident where David robbed his therapist for drug money and then bashed the doctors head in when he came back, the direct concern is that David makes bad decisions and/or selfish decisions (at least), and if he were to make a bad decision regarding his powers a lot of innocent people could get very badly hurt. Or killed. Along with the worry that the voices in his head don’t exactly give him the most angelic of advice at times, and because of his powers he’s very capable of fulfilling their wills, so to speak.

Based on Olivers speech at the beginning of the episode though, it might be safe to say the overall message is instead of acting on fear they should act on empathy and help David overcome his problems instead of vilifying him for his mental illness.

Syd suggest Davids hiding his real memories behind a fake ones and Ptonomy says she going through a lot of effort just to convince herself Davids a good guy. I never really got what he meant, but I guess what he meant is that Syd’s trying to find a justifiable reason for why David would attack Dr Poole like he did when the obvious answer is just “He’s got violent tendencies.” I always just thought she was genuinely hypothesizing, ya know, trying to solve the case. Maybe she was and Ptonomy’s just mean.

“I was looking for the man I loved. Or did I just love the idea of him? The face he showed me?” Doubt springs up early. Why can none of the characters reconcile that a person can have both good and evil in them at the same time? That’s... all people, in fact.

When Kissinger ask if Amy knew David had powers Amy says, “I think so.” Amy potentially acted on fear as well, in regards to her and Davids childhood that is.

Kerry mostly only thinks of herself in relation to Cary.

Cary misses Kerry when she’s gone. Even besides the roles they fill for each other, they generally enjoy each others company. They’re quite literally as close as 2 people can be. Each one living for the sake of the other.

Davids once again surrounded by a crowd of people all yelling in his face. After they disappear though he recovers pretty fast. I guess he’s used to it.

Clockworks Podcast pointed out that the music Davids wincing at is sax heavy Jazz, which is (abstractly) the sound The Devil With Yellow Eyes makes whenever he appears. If my theory about David seeing through the 4th wall is correct, then maybe he’s actually hearing that sound whenever TDWYE is around. Alternatively, Farouk blast that in his head everytime to mess with him.

“Sorry... I forgot about your um... I had a similar- proclivity? Malady? I forget the word- what’s the word? I’ve been here a long time.”

If the previous paragraphs are right, Oliver’s probably implying he was also affected by a mental parasite at some point. It might’ve even been what stranded him in the astral plane.

From Davids perspective he skipped over the entire second half of Chapter 3.

Oliver is essentially explaining the plot of the show to David and the audience before it’s even been unfurled.

“You have an unquiet mind, so you war with yourself, like a dog trying to chew off its own tail.”

David’s still in a very pessimistic guilt ridden place at this point in the story. That’s probably the internal war Oliver’s talking about.

... why can’t Oliver leave the astral plane again? If he did have his own mental parasite, it seems long gone by now. If he just can’t find his way back, then how does he do it in Chapter 7?

Syd calls non-mutants “normals.”

“We were the ghost in a haunted house.” ~Syd, Chapter 4

“You think ghost like living in a haunted house?” ~Syd, Chapter 12

Why does Syd keep hallucinating The Angriest Boy? Or is that just visual metaphor?

Ptonomy’s a very, “Get the job done and look classy while doing it” sorta guy.

“To fight and conquer in all our battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting.” ~Sun Tzu, Ptonomy

Is the above quote perhaps relevant to the shows message during other conflicts throughout the series? Could it be subtly implying all the characters should always look for non-violent ways to defeat their enemies? I.e. not just a classy line from Ptonomy, but a statement of themes within the show.

The food David, Philly, and Dr Poole are having in Philly’s memories is cherry pie.

In Philly’s memory David says, “I don’t keep a lot of stuff.” And Philly comments that there’s no evidence David had a past. At least among the things David owns at that point. I know Farouk edited a lot of Davids memories, but why did David himself get rid of so much physical stuff? Syd said the reason he broke into Dr Pooles that day was to destroy their taped conversations. What’s compelling him to erase himself from existence? Is it as simple as “Farouk”? It seems like on a deeper level David doesn’t want anyone to know too much about him. Everyone’s only allowed to know what he tells them. His way of feeling in control I guess.

Philly did the classic “I can fix him” when she started dating David.

Philly implies David going off his medication and keeping bad company is what caused the downfall of their relationship. And subsequently his life, probably.

Despite everything, Philly still feels sympathetic towards David.

“Whoever altered Davids memory-“ Ptonomy very early on humors the idea that Davids being acted on by a 3rd party.

The longer Kerry is away from Cary, the more antsy she is for a fight. She’s not supposed to have to sit through all this “boring stuff.”

Ptonomy left after he got the info on Pooles location from Philly. He probably wanted to get the rest of the information from the source. Ironically, they probably woulda gotten closer to the real answer if he’d just looked a bit longer.

Sys proudly says “Yes” when “Dr Poole” ask if she’s in love with David.

It never really comes up again, but Kerry and Cary are physically linked. Maybe even psychologically. When one of them gets hurt, or even exerts their body a lot, the other can feel it, even if their own body doesn’t take on the actual damage. This is still true even if they’re miles apart.

Syds definitely portrayed as the hero at the end of this scene.

“All those years of practice-“ A part of David always knew he had powers. I wonder, did he practice a little in secret? Or is he saying he was at Summerland for years? That doesn’t really add up. But then... what does he mean by years?

Lenny encourages David to get angry so that his powers will strengthen enough for them to overpower the astral plane. Sort of... cheating his way out. David will later achieve more feats of strength through honing his emotions. Like many heroes, his level of power is intrinsically linked to his emotional state.

Very directly here, Davids violence is caused by ignorance. He doesn’t know Syd switched bodies with Walter and is trying to escape.

[mcnypieces]

     A month later and at last I come bearing an update once again. It’s bound to be incredibly lengthy as life has not been its most placid, but I am here nonetheless.

     TL;DR for those also struggling with their time recently: Life stressful, Bun scare, WoW fun but friend/Mythic+ group is a mess due to losing a friend to toxicity, I will likely be remaking this multimuse blog and starting fresh there to give me more incentive to be around to write comfortably in a fresh, happy, non-cluttered place, complete with a new Birkan OC I talked about some months before now. Though I haven’t technically decided and was going to ask opinions, I will likely still be remaking, as everything here is a mess. Lulu’s blog will remain as is for now, as I am attached to it and has retained more activity from me ( not much more, however ), though I have also considered moving her with everyone as well to keep everyone in one place and maybe make my mind feel more focused in a collective space. I’m still very much on the fence about it. Thoughts on that are welcome.

     There was a bit of optimism at the beginning of my break to play WoW. However, a little less than a day into the launch, I noticed something off about the youngest of my rabbits. Hazel, a netherland dwarf gifted to me by a neighbor down the way during Christmas a couple years ago so she had friends and wasn’t alone during the day, developed a head tilt. It was enough to be noticeable, but nowhere near the cases most see posted in pictures. Head tilt in rabbits is often a very serious thing, as it can cause permanent damage and even death if not treated immediately. Anything from an injury to unkempt ears to a common parasite ( which is technically classified as a fungus ) to neurological troubles - the range is about as vast as self-diagnosing with WebMD. Torticollis in rabbits has a bunch of different causes, very few of which are relatively mild.

     I was - to say the least - in absolute hysterics. She was off balance, tripping over herself, curling up into herself trying to keep footing. To somebody that’s never seen it in person before, it looks like you’re watching an animal on the verge of passing from something neurological. I had no idea what was going on. To be frank, I was absolutely terrified. It was 1AM and very few vets were 24-hour, especially in this crisis, much less ones that could look at rabbits. I steeled myself to call the closest one for recommendations on what to do and where to go. Naturally, I was told there was nothing this place could do besides euthanasia ─ which, in my very emotional state, I was incredibly offended by the mere immediate suggestion of. Hazel had been acting completely normal up until then, and she still had her energy. She was trying to climb all over the place despite having no balance, and she showed no other symptoms of anything besides just tilting and falling over herself. At this point obviously I know they were simply stating that was the only thing they could do as they don’t take exotic pets, but in the moment, being offered it as the first and seemingly only solution made me upset. I’m sure that would be anybody in that situation. So, of course, I refused, and they told me of other places that would be able to at least see her at that time and give me more sound options.

     I find a 24 hour emergency pet clinic about thirty minutes away. There’s a place that for sure takes exotics, but it’s 2 hours away and closed at this hour. Okay, fine, I don’t have time to wait with this. I call the 24 hour clinic. They tell me they do see exotics and can treat the basics but they don’t have the equipment to properly diagnose anything for certain. Unfortunate, but I don’t have any other options at this point. They say they will take her and monitor her behavior to figure out where I should go from there. I take her there. I try not to break down again on the ride there, I try not to break down as they take her padded comfy box from me. They tell me they have another, more serious case they have to see to immediately but will monitor her and do a basic check-up. It will take them an hour at minimum, and I was welcome to stay in the parking lot. I decide against it, go home to clean up and prep a space for her while trying to steel myself more. It takes a couple hours for them to call back. 

     Lo and behold, they have no idea what’s wrong. As stated when I called, aside from the head tilting, she is acting completely normal. Eating, going to the bathroom, has her energy, no leg or eye issues that are common with the usual problems that lead to head tilting. What tests they can run are absolutely normal. They gave her what they referred to as “a bunny feast”, and she delighted herself in it with no problems, and they even brushed her down for me ( I didn’t get the chance yet, her winter coat was just coming in ). She just has a head tilt all of a sudden, out of nowhere. This is great news, but it’s also upsetting, because I still have no idea what’s going on. They give me medication for an infection and Metacam for the potential pain she could have been in, and sent me on my way to monitor her at home. If anything changed for the worse, I would take her to the vet in Raleigh two hours away to have actual tests done. 

     Okay, so I’m still in the dark on what’s wrong, but I have medication. Great. I watch her for two weeks, give her the infection medication every 12 hours and the pain medication the first 4 days. And, in time, her head tilt begins to disappear. That tells both the doctor and I that it was either 1) an ear infection, which was now cured, or 2) an injury. My mind has me leaning towards the latter, if only because I know how fast she runs all over the place and Jolyne, my cat, does play with her. They have done so for years now without issue, often times Jojo will be running away from Hazel rather than vice versa. Hazel will do loops back and forth and then suddenly charge at her in an attempt to catch her off guard. I have not let her out with Jojo since then in case roughhousing was in fact the cause, but Hazel is back to running around like the crazy thing she is. I’m still watching her every day, and all the rabbits will hopefully be getting new, large hutches for Christmas. Hazel’s has been ordered. To this moment, I still have no idea what caused her head tilt. What I did learn, however, is that there are a lot of rabbits that get euthanized due to head tilt, when most of the ailments - if caught early enough and with lengthy TLC - can be cured. Rabbits can even live happily with the tilt should it become permanent ( which it can be! ). Here is a happy bun who lived a wonderful life with a permanent head tilt. Much worse than the way Hazel’s was, but the common bad tilt nonetheless. I called to tell them the great news, how grateful I was they could do anything at all, and they were ecstatic to have me call them back. Things in that regard are now back to normal, but I keep an eye on her as per usual. Definitely not the kind of scare I was expecting out of nowhere, but one I received nonetheless.

     During the time I monitored her and kept her close at my side in her hutch ( I went out of the way to move her hutch in with me when I cleaned it, because why wouldn’t I? ), I enjoyed the launch of Shadowlands. My main WoW friend group, A/B/C/D/E, were all playing and content with what was happening. We even were talking to old friends, thinking about raiding, had two new friends coming to learn to play the game. It was great! But then base Mythics came out, and things went sour out of nowhere. 

     One of our long time friends in our original Mythic+ group became the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. We’ve all had our disagreements and issues with said friend for some time, as he has been very negative the past few months and a hamper on the friend group even before launch. Everyone knows things are at an all time low, and the world is not in its best state - but we come to play games to get away from the realities of things. We’re here to have fun and kid around, not to mope. This is not to say we’re not here to be supportive if something is genuinely wrong, or that sadness just isn’t allowed ever. That would be silly. We’re always here to support each other in rough times, and such is the reason we’re as tight-knit as we are to begin with. Always has been the case. 

     However, this was not your typical sad sort of negative. This was the permanent “Glass is Half Empty” mentality. Everything had to be negative. Win a BG match? He didn’t have fun because he got targeted down one time when he was alone on a caster. Clear base Mythics for the first time of the expansion? No time to celebrate, because he didn’t get a piece of gear out of it, or he didn’t do the burst he wanted on a trash pack because we didn’t cater to his pull plan. During the second week of Mythics, he was constantly complaining about not getting gear drops to the point it was making other members upset. No one likes doing eight dungeons, getting one or two drops, and both being pieces you don’t need. Hell, I did Mythic+ this entire week since it came out and I still have a Heroic neck on my body because it has a socket and great stats and I’ve not gotten another drop since. But to complain about not getting a drop and dunking on people who are getting the upgrade ─ which, in turn, betters the group ─ is just ridiculous. This was not exclusive to just WoW, either. Everything they played together when I was not present, he acted the same way ─ negative, upsetting, and very, very defensive whenever someone would tell him to knock it off. He’d pull the “oh you don’t care about me” card. He constantly felt like people were coming after him, even when nobody ever was, and that everyone just had something against him and we kept him there out of sheer pity ─ which was infuriating to all of us, the people who still considered him a friend and cared about him to tolerate the toxic behavior and try to work through it. He’d pretend to be a victim if you tried to call him out on bad behavior, acting as if he was being singled out, while also bad mouthing other people and poking fun at them and then disguising it as a joke ( or in his case, “a meme” ). When you’d do the same back, he’d pull the whole “dude that’s not cool, I get you’re joking but it’s not funny” attitude every time. He had to be right all the time, and if you tried to tell him he was wrong, he’d fight you on it until the bloody end, even when proven wrong earlier. He wanted to be catered to and, if things weren’t going the way he wanted, he was negative. If he wasn’t having fun, nobody else was allowed to have fun. 

     Friend A, who is essentially our leader that brought everybody together and often makes calls for the group ( though in reality we’re all just an aimless bunch of friends messing around and having fun ), has known Friend C for a longer than any of us. He considers him his best friend, and they have been close for many years since Cataclysm. We’re all friends, of course, but A and C have been close for a very long time. They are very supportive of one another, regardless of what happens, and always have been. However, even Friend A is getting very frustrated with Friend C’s behavior. Friend C has not always been like this. In fact, he used to be the complete opposite. He loves the guy to death and back, but the other members, particularly Friend D, is getting into mini verbal fisticuffs during dungeons disguised as friendly fun being poked and forth almost every night. Friend D complains about Friend C behind his back ( which he has been asked to tone down and, some nights, has been agreed with based on the issue at hand ). A new coworker of Friend A who is also a very chill, cool person had her own reservations about him when she joined due to his behavior and it kept her from joining voice calls. Hell, I got into an argument with him a week before launch due to his behavior, to which he tried to invalidate my argument by claiming I was “coming after him” and therefore my side was automatically invalid because I had a “personal vendetta” against him and me “shit-talking” him while making my points “comes off a certain way” ─ when the point I was making had absolutely nothing to do with him personally. Again, the same “I’m being attacked” mentality, when no such thing was happening.

     Eventually one night while he was complaining about loot, Friend A had a talk with him about not complaining about not getting loot anymore, as it was wearing on everyone’s nerves. Mythic+ would come out soon, loot would be flowing in, and everyone would eventually be geared, including him. This wasn’t the first time he was talked to in regards to the way he’d been acting in general. He agreed to tone it down, and that was that. But guess what? That didn’t happen. The next night we finish up our Mythics, and he has to physically stop himself from making a comment and covers it up with “nope, I promised I wouldn’t complain about loot” with a tone that sounds like someone is struggling really, really hard not to say something and is holding back. Normally this would be something nobody cares about and is part of the process but this isn’t the first time he said something about it. He then proceeds to complain anyway, spends night questioning the tank’s ( Friend D at the time ) pulls and complaining about being beat in DPS every other pull because “oh I don’t have gear cause the game hates me so-” when he’s not even doing his AoE rotation properly ( found this out later after everything fell through ). His attitude is so negative it’s affecting the way he plays and, to put it bluntly, he’s playing and acting like shit.

    So Friend A sits him down. Again. At this point he’s still trying his absolute best to work things out with him, but his foot has come down. His behavior for months has been toxic. People are getting fed up. He’s bringing down group morale. Everyone is worried his attitude is going to make the new people who are trying to learn the game quit because he’s constantly shit talking the game and pretending the world is ending in voice. Friend A tells him he’s here for him still and how he’s always here to talk if life is a mess and Friend C is still welcome, but he needs to get his shit straight. By the end of the chat, Friend C claims “that’s just how he is” and he can’t do anything about it ─ which is just such bullshit. We know good and well how he really is, and this ain’t it. He’s just too lazy, full of himself, and down on his luck to acknowledge he has a problem. He says it’s shitty of us not to “accept him for who he is” and how we all know his life is shit and that he’s justified. Friend A essentially tells him he doesn’t want somebody like that in his group. Friend C takes this as “oh I don’t want you here period”, essentially says “well I don’t want to be in a group that just pities me and takes me along because they feel bad and not because they’re actually my friends”, leaves the discord group, removes Friend A from discord, removes friend A from Battle.net, then blocks him in both places. Out of nowhere. Friend A then comes to announce that Friend C will no longer be a part of our group. This is a TL;DR, since I wasn’t there for the conversation and it’s been a little bit since I’ve asked Friend A exactly what was said and feel it inappropriate to ask for specifics again since it’s all behind us now and that night still upsets him to this moment.

    Since then, Friend C has come back to try and make amends to everyone, especially the group, as he dropped without telling anybody out of frustration and essentially said “fuck you” to the entire group because he was upset at his best friend. Friend A was very emotional about it after it happened as, like said, this was his best friend who essentially just claimed he didn’t care about him at all and just pitied him despite doing everything he could to try to keep everybody happy and even catering to Friend C at times against his better judgement. Despite that, however, Friend A has stated multiple times he would not even take Friend C back as a friend unless he had a life evaluation first. Friend A and Friend C sat down to have another talk after the dust settled so Friend C could apologize, as Friend C reached out supposedly to do so, but he still acted as though he didn’t do anything wrong. He swore constantly on his dog-who-he-loved-dearly’s ashes he didn’t say the shitty things he said to Friend A that night. He didn’t own up to anything he said or did, only apologized for leaving immediately and dipping on everyone else, as he worried he’d “burned the bridge”. Friend A did not welcome him back with open arms but told him his doors were still open to talk and were never closed to begin with ( Friend C closed them himself by leaving suddenly, after all ) and that he could talk to him again when he figured everything out. Everyone is at least on speaking terms again, but he has not rejoined the discord nor the game group, and wasn’t even playing for a time. Now he’s supposedly playing and having fun again on his own terms and doing things we haven’t. Supposedly. So our Mythic+ group had a gap in it, which was filled by one of the new friends who just started playing. Both new players in our group are learning fast, but it has slowed our progression down, which we accept. People have swapped around classes to find accommodations as well, with Friend A now tanking and Friend D healing as they did before, delaying progress further. But now with things decided and in place, we will begin to push again. After all, it’s only the first week of Mythic+. We haven’t really lost any important progress.

    Friend A was very upset and felt like there was more he could’ve done, but everyone in the group has told him day in and day out there was nothing else he could’ve done. Friend C still has a lot to sort out and has seemingly taken absolutely nothing from this situation.

    Both of these situations, on top of the seizures the person I consider a second mom to me still happening ( which she went in for today to be looked at again while she’s being treated for something else ), has made writing nigh impossible. I have been having a lot of fun playing WoW and the issue with Friend C, while a big hamper on things in the moment, hasn’t stopped me from enjoying it as is. Both the major hospitals near me have recently announced they are at full capacity on virus patients and will no longer be accepting more of them and, so long as there’s no immediate reason to do so, have asked people to stay inside as much as possible because of it. With Hazel’s emergency making me miss my dad’s small Thanksgiving as I was up all night that night and it was the next day, this means I will also not make it to his Christmas. I did not go to my mom’s get-together for Christmas either, as it was at her restaurant where she works and the number of people there made me nervous. She was sad, but there’s nothing I could really do to justify the risk. The fact people still want to have any kind of gathering even for the holidays blows my mind.

     That all being said, things have calmed down enough for me to consider making another attempt at writing again and retuning to the blogs I have missed dearly. The breaks are always nice, but I’ve had to take far too many of late, and struggling with the energy and mindset to write for months is really starting to get under this bun’s blue fur. In the time I’ve been away I’ve thought about remaking this blog, as it’s a complete mess and riddled with old things that are no longer a part of it. My tags are messed up, my info is all over the place, and I feel as though a fresh place filled with friends who are still active might speed up the process of getting me back on track. In addition to that, I’ve thought more about the OC idea I brought up some time ago and will be adding said OC to the roster once things are set-up, assuming I go through with the idea. I’ve also considered adding Lulubelle to the multimuse as well to keep everyone in one place, but as I’m attached to her blog and hers is more organized, I’m reluctant to do so. It is a thought and consideration, nonetheless. It will all take some time to do, but afterward, assuming it goes as expected, activity will resume once again.

      It will take some time, but hopefully things will be back to the way they were soon enough. ♥

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Whumptober Day 18: To Fix What Is Broken

Summary: Written for Whumptober Day 18, follow-up to Day 12. Set after Httyd 2, not canon-compliant with THW. Years after their mistake, the Gang may need to force Hiccup to break down the wall he's constructed since then. It may not end as terribly as it did last time.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut

Pairing: None

Words: 5 187

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: "Panic Attack”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: NOTE: The rape/non-con elements in this fic are purely implied and referenced. Nothing is explicitly shown.

Not sure how much I've succeeded at portraying a panic attack in this one. I’ve only done it once before and it’s in an unposted one-shot. So I have no idea how well I’ve written a panic attack.

Might also be too long. I tried to look at what needed cutting, but I had no idea what.

Also written as a follow-up to Whumptober Day 12, which I will be linking.

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Enjoy!

Ao3 to Whumptober Day 12

Ao3 To Whumptober Day 18

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In the end, nothing got fixed. After his outburst in the Dragon Academy and doing "damage control" with his father, Hiccup somehow managed to convince him to let him go back to the Edge, and then it's like everything went back to normal.

Normal as in Hiccup pretending like nothing happened and continuing on as usual. Giving orders, prioritizing dragons and beating Dragon Hunters, sassing, the whole charade. He simply goes about his business, truly as if nothing happened that day, as if they hadn't hurt him and he hadn't hurt them.

A part of them is selfishly relieved and wants to go along with the pretend, but a slightly bigger part of them knows it isn't right, that Hiccup is simply ignoring the issue altogether in the hope that it will just go away.

So they've tried to bring it up with him. At dinner, during game night, during a patrol, any moment where he can sit down and have a talk. But he always shuts them down as soon as the subject is brought up, telling them not to make such a big deal out of something so stupid and small and to let it rest.

Sometimes they don't even get the chance to start talking before Hiccup would leave the room as soon as they sit down. There's just something about the way they sit down whenever they try to talk to him that tips him off to what they're planning on doing.

This whole thing has made him a hypocrite because he wouldn't just let this rest if the person suffering isn't him. Though to be fair, he would be a lot more sensitive about it than they have been.

The worst part is that their attempts at reaching him aren't only in vain, they make things worse between them and him, too. Though he and Toothless seem to be doing fine, the two of them go off together without the rest of the Dragon Riders a lot more than they used to even at the very beginning of the Dragon Academy.

Hiccup spends more time by himself, while game night often keeps going until the wee hours of the night, he only stays for an hour or two before retreating to his hut or forge to do whatever.

And then they get captured again. The Riders fight and fight to make their captivity end as soon as humanly possible, to save Hiccup from more hurt, but when they get home, Hiccup and Toothless disappeared for days.

So instead of suffering through this period of pain on the Edge, he was suffering through it somewhere else instead, with only Toothless there to see it.

It's so unhealthy. The way he avoids it altogether, pretends like nothing is wrong, like his head isn't full of what he's enduring. The way he runs from his second home, from his friends, to suffer completely on his own only to return and continue to act like nothing's happened and like he hasn't been gone.

So they let it rest, feeling like they have no other choice. After telling Stoick had been disastrous, after returning to the Edge, after attempt after attempt ends in failure, they decide to let it rest. Maybe them "letting it go" will, at the very least, urge Hiccup to stay home when he has these troubling episodes. That way, he's safe with them when he has them and not off to Odin knows where.

Unfortunately for Hiccup, life has a way of confronting someone with their traumas.

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Years pass.

Drago Bludvist happens, Hiccup finds out his dead mother isn't actually dead, Stoick is killed, Hiccup becomes Chief of the Hooligan tribe at the young age of 20, and Eret joins the Dragon Riders. Once again his life is turned upsidedown, but besides a few references here and there, Viggo's criminal acts are never talked about.

Despite this, the Riders know that the former Dragon Hunter Chief is far from forgotten, even while dead.

Because Berk is a very handsy place and Berk doesn't know about Hiccup's ever-growing aversion to touch. They act around him as they always have, Hooligan friendly, and his friends have seen his discomfort that everyone else is either blind to or attributes to his awkwardness.

On that front, Eret is very observant, keeping it at friendly shoulder pats.

But it isn't just the "no touching", the Riders can see Viggo's influence on other aspects of Hiccup's life.

They can see when he's having a particularly bad episode by the bags under his eyes from a lack of sleep, by the weight he loses when eating becomes a problem, or when he suddenly and inexplicably needs to leave a room and won't be back for hours.

They've never disturbed him before, but they know he's at the cove with Toothless when he does this. So at least they know he's safe.

But Hiccup's wardrobe isn't lost on them either. Going from a simple tunic and somewhat plain armor to layers upon layers with armor on top and belts in more places than they need to be, one dagger strapped to an arm, and his Inferno strapped to his thigh,... the Riders aren't idiots.

Berk may think it's his taste for the dramatic, but they know that he's making up for a concerning lack of a sense of security. Viggo's death hasn't made him feel any safer and Stoick's has made that even less so.

It's all leather, too, all except for his tunic.

It always takes him minutes just to reach his main tunic and knowing Hiccup that is bound to bite him in the ass someday.

And it did.

Having allies means coming to their aid in their time of need and that can sometimes result in one of the Dragon Riders getting hurt. This time, it so happened to be Hiccup.

Aiding the Berserkers when an enemy tribe thought to raid them, the Dragon Riders came to help and in the ensuing battle, Hiccup got knocked off Toothless.

It is easier to down a disabled dragon than a fully-abled one, even with a rider, but throughout the years, their grace in the sky hasn't just grown, but their chances of being downed have lessened.

Unfortunately for Hiccup and Toothless, that means crashing just hurts more. As a dragon, Toothless is sturdy and can therefore shake a crash or two off, but as a mere human, Hiccup cannot.

Unable to just walk it off, he was taken to the healer to be looked at and treated. He'd been unconscious the whole way there, a blessing because that meant he didn't need to feel them move him and cause him more pain in the process, a curse because that meant he woke up in a stranger's home.

"He won't let me treat him," The healer had to tell the Riders and Heather, the Berserker Chieftess. Despite her many attempts at soothing him and telling him that he needs to be examined, he still won't let her.

The Riders, standing outside of her shack, all look at each other, knowing why Hiccup is refusing treatment and too afraid to say.

Heather places a hand on Astrid's shoulder, sharing her troubled mood. She, too, knows of Hiccup's fear, having lived on the Edge for a time and experienced his episodes for herself.

"Maybe it'll help if his friends are there? A familiar face can do wonders." She suggests, while Eret steps forward.

"This is so strange. The Chief has his reckless moments, but refusing treatment just seems... not like him." He says and he's right. This is beyond being reckless, this is endangering his own life.  And not just for some stunt, but for refusing treatment!

"We can go in and see what we can do, but you're going to have let Toothless in. Hiccup won't accept treatment without him in the room." Astrid tells the healer. It's not a plan that guarantees success, but it's better than forcing him to comply with something that triggers an old fear.

The healer sighs and nods. She's not particularly happy to have a Night Fury in her home and place of work, but she recognizes that she needs to allow it for her patient's sake.

Astrid turns to face Toothless, who was all but glued to the door of the shack, awaiting the moment he could join Hiccup's side again. Was because he's already entering after pawing the door open.

So she turns to Eret instead.

"Eret, I know you want to help, but I need to ask you to stay here." She tells him and Eret nods. It's not that she wants to exclude him, it's just that he probably doesn't know and Hiccup would probably like to keep it that way. Until he wants to talk about it himself, that is. They've learned their lesson about telling people something this personal, even if they think it's for his sake.

The rest of the Riders, they follow Toothless inside. What they find is Toothless and Hiccup having what can only be called a stand-off.

"Oh great, guys, can you tell Toothless to move? He's not letting me leave." Hiccup requests when he notices they aren't alone anymore, but quickly resumes his staring contest with the dragon, who is rumbling challengingly. In a "you just try to get past me" kind of way. His tail is swaying behind him.

"Leave? You need medical attention, you can't leave!" Astrid replies surprised.

"Which I can get plenty of back home. Berk isn't far by dragon." Hiccup passes Toothless and for all his bravado, he realizes that he can't actually stop him from leaving the healer's hut.

The Riders and Toothless watch him limp towards the door, holding his side. He still looks like just as much of a mess as when Eret brought him in, including the bloody pants that he has bandaged rather messily. As someone who knows at least a thing or two medically and knows of the importance of proper treatment, this only shows his urgency to get out of here.

Catching him trying to limp past them and out the door, Astrid comes to stand before him, effectively stopping him in his way. Blinking in surprise, Hiccup looks at her.

"Wow hey, you can't just leave. A few hours by dragon is still far when you have injured your ribs. Especially when you have healer and supplies right here." She tells him and Hiccup doesn't like what he's hearing. She's making sense to him as well, of course, but his high levels of discomfort are overruling his common sense.

"Astrid, I'm fine. I can breathe fine, albeit, with a little bit of pain, I can make the trip back to Berk."

"So you say and then, once we're over the ocean with no island for miles you discover that, oh no, you suddenly can't breathe out of one lung! You faint, you and Toothless crash, and you both drown." Astrid puts her foot down and crosses her arms, scolding him for his way of thinking. "A little bit of pain" does not equal "okay".

"But that's why I have you guys, to keep that from happening." He says.

"Oh yeah, because we can definitely fix a collapsed lung on the spot." Snotlout sides with Astrid and comes to stand next to her, obstructing Hiccup's way out further.

Hiccup sighs and a look of pain passes on his face, the too deep release of air hurting his side.

"Hiccup, why don't you want to be treated?" Astrid asks, having some idea, but not wanting to jump to conclusions.

"It's just... It doesn't feel good to have a stranger..." Touch me, he wants to say, but having put up a wall between the Riders and his "issues", he refuses to say it.

"To have a stranger what?" Astrid asks, suspicious of what he actually wants to say.

"I just trust Gothi's expertise more." A rude thing to say, especially for him. They're lucky the healer isn't here to hear him.

The Riders glare at him and Hiccup looks away, uncomfortable with how rude he's just been to a woman who simply wants to help him. The words had left him before he could stop them and he regrets them already.

"Okay, we'll stay." He finally decides, but keeps standing by the door because he doesn't actually feel like moving, more so because of how much it hurts to use his injured leg.

He doesn't know what he cut his thigh on, just that it bleeds enough to require stitches and be at risk for infection. Which makes his decision to leave seem even more foolish and unlike him.

But the Riders don't blame him because they know exactly what causes this out of character behavior.

Offering her hands, Hiccup lets her help him sit down on the bed behind him. He'd been lying on it before, when he woke up and the healer tried to examine him and he was being too difficult of a patient.

Hiccup wipes his sweaty palms on his pants, he's anxious and his friends notice. Astrid crouches down in front of him.

"We can stay if you want us to. Fishlegs knows how to heal, he can even do it while the healer watches and helps where needed. We already convinced her to let Toothless stay. If having a familiar face helps you get through this, we're here for you." She talks vaguely about him not needing to be touched by a stranger or being left alone with a stranger on an island full of strangers.

Hiccup mulls it over, thinking about her offer, but then shakes his head lightly.

"This is stupid, she's not even..." A man, like he was. But he doesn't say it, whispering more to himself than he is talking to Astrid. They don't need to know. As if they don't know already.

"You're really anxious, it's not stupid." It's Snotlout who says this as he's surprisingly sensitive about this forbidden topic.

Hiccup looks up at his friends, Toothless purring as he invites himself in their space and nudges his human's uninjured leg in support.

He's not ready for this. He can feel himself sweating, his heart is pounding so much in dread that it aches, his anxiety is already through the roof.

He doesn't want to do this, but Astrid is right, this could potentially be needlessly life-threatening and he would be dragging Toothless down with him.

He just has to stop being so stupid and let the woman do her job.

"Okay, call her back in." Hiccup requests and lies back down with some difficulty while Fishlegs leaves to get her.

It'll be fine, it'll be fine, it'll be fine. It doesn't matter how many times he'll be repeating that in his mind, he'll have to do it as many times as it takes.

The old healer enters her hut again and she wants to get to work.

Hiccup watches her move around, his eyes following her as he attempts to control his breathing, as hard as it is with his ribs aching. Every breath in and out hurts him and that some part of him wants to draw shorter and shallower breaths with his rising nerves doesn't help.

She takes everything she may need. Cloth, bandages, water, herbs, anything to treat his injuries with.

It'll be fine, it'll be fine.

Everything in hand, Fishlegs helping her carry her stuff, she approaches and sets it all down.

"It'll be fine." Astrid looks at him when she hears him mutter.

But the second he feels hands trying to undo his belts, he panics. He takes her hands and pulls them away from him before rushing to sit up and hurting himself in the process. A cry of pain leaves him, everyone jumps to attention.

"Hiccup, wait, it's okay." Astrid tries to tell him, grabbing a shoulder.

"No! Nope! None of this is okay! I'm not okay!" He tells her before he winces and has no choice but to fall back down, holding his side and jostling his leg, which has bled through the bandages by now.

The Riders and Toothless gaze at him, the healer keeping her distance as she can tell this is a rather personal matter and so doesn't involve herself.

They listen to him groaning in pain, see the expression of agony as well as the sweat already glistening on his skin in the candlelight. His air intake is ragged. It is shallow and too fast, which only hurts him more.

"Hiccup," Astrid speaks his name, he shivers beneath her hand.

"No, I can't I... I just can't. I can't let this happen." This is wrong. This feels so wrong to him. The hands of someone that he doesn't know on his body where they don't belong.

In the past few years, the only ones who have been able to infiltrate his personal space in such a close manner have been his father and Toothless, maybe occasionally the Dragon Riders. Though, the Dragons more than the Riders.

And Berk, of course, but that was beyond his control. He doesn't like any of it and that is already hard to suffer through. Doing this is more than he can bear. He wants out.

He can already feel it creeping onto him. The hands.

"Hiccup, you need a healer." Astrid gently reminds him.

"I can put you under a sedative if that makes this procedure easier on you." The healer offers Berk's Chief some peace, at least for the next few hours.

"What? No! No sedatives!"

"Not even painkillers? It might help." Ruffnut suggests.

"No, no painkillers either. I want nothing." He's breathing so fast, he's becoming lightheaded. Meanwhile, his ribs burn.

"Then what do you want us to do?" Astrid asks, hoping Hiccup can tell them what he thinks will help him get through this most.

They've already gone behind his back once and it had made everything worse for him, had made things terrible between them.

But Hiccup shakes his head, not even knowing the answer to that question himself.

Gods, he can feel them. Disembodied hands where they don't belong, touching him where they were never meant to touch.

He wants to cry.

Astrid offers him her hand and he takes it too quickly and squeezes too hard. He's dying for comfort.

But he knows he needs to go through with it.

"Just go ahead with it. Just do it." He tells them uncertainly and the healer steps forward again, hands moving to his belts to undo them.

This time he lets her, but his hyperventilation worsens and so does his trembling. His eyes close as if it'll help if he can't see her hands on him. Feeling them on him is already bad enough.

He can feel other hands creeping upon him. They're bigger with more callouses and they aren't actually there, which is why they creep.

They belong to a man that isn't even alive anymore and yet, with every unwanted touch forced upon him, he can feel him again.

"Shhh, it's okay. You'll get through this. Just breathe, Hiccup, breathe." Astrid tells him and he tries to keep a hold of himself to the best of his ability.

His vest is splayed upon and more wounds are made bare. Besides the aching of his ribs, there's a splotch of blood on the right side of his lower abdomen, close to the hem of his trousers.

"He's bleeding through his tunic." Snotlout mutters, bringing attention to it. The healer takes the hem of his tunic in order to take a look.

Hiccup can feel it, is too aware of her every move. Still squeezing Astrid's hand, he squeezes even tighter and she lets him. Tears wet his eyes and when she cautiously pulls it up, they slip free and he seizes her hands again, unable to bear any more of this.

"Hey, shhh, it's okay." Astrid holds all of their hands as she hushes him.

Toothless intervenes and headbutts his human's face, a gesture of affection that Hiccup returns.

"Yeah, it's okay, we're all here with you." Snotlout tells him, stepping forward, but not daring to go as far as Astrid is going. One of them is probably enough.

"Breathe, Hiccup. Breathe."

"I can't. I-I can't."

Fishlegs comes closer.

"Then maybe I can help! Try to follow along with me, okay?" Hiccup leaves Toothless to face him, who exaggerates his breathing in a slow and timely manner so he can keep up.

It's hard, but Hiccup tries his best to follow along until his breathing comes to a more natural pace and his lightheadedness doesn't turn to darkness.

Astrid manages to make Hiccup let go of the healer and hold onto her instead.

They don't like any of this, the panic attack, the sweat sticking his clothing to his skin, or the tears now sliding down his face. His lip is trembling, his everything is trembling.

This is what he hid from them after their damning talk with Stoick for so long, this is what Viggo has done to him. Their fearless leader rendered to this. The fact that they still don't know the details haunts them to this day.

He can still face any enemy, can stare down death itself if he has to, but he can't stand being touched, not even if it's for his own well-being.

"This is so stupid." They hear him mutter, something they've heard him repeat over and over again with whatever involves his issues. They don't know what he thinks is so stupid, but they've heard him say this so many times by now.

Astrid dares to take a seat on the bed next to him and lets go of his hand to cup his cheeks. He stares up at her with a wild look of panic. If he wants her to let go, she trusts that he'll let her know.

"Hiccup, please listen," She starts and hopes that's what he'll do.

"We're all here to protect you. I know we've failed you before, but no more. You're safe with us. Tonight, tomorrow, every day for the rest of your life, you're safe." She tells him and his hands take hers, but he doesn't pull them away. Her touch is light, so it wouldn't be hard to remove them, he wants them there.

"We love you. Please let us protect you." She requests with genuine emotion.

He nods.

"Okay," He says quietly, barely above a whisper as most of his voice is stuck in his throat. It's a miracle he even got that much out.

Toothless rumbles encouragingly and invites himself partially into the bed, pretty much wrapping his forelegs around his Rider, but staying mindful of his injuries.

Hiccup lets go of Astrid's hands, gaining some control over himself.

Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut take them, watching for any reaction that might tell them this is the wrong move to make. So far, there isn't any.

This might be it, the opening they've been waiting for. For years Hiccup has been completely closed off on this topic, he's locked his fears up tight and thrown away the key. But now, perhaps the door stands open on a creak and they're allowed a peek inside with a promise for more.

Whether this is what it is or not doesn't matter at the moment. What does matter, is helping him through tonight.

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"Hey, how're you feeling?" Back on Berk, Astrid asks Hiccup this question as they enter his home a few days later.

Looking up from his blueprints, he watches them enter with a tired smile.

He's sitting on a chair, wearing a comfortable tunic to spare his bruised ribs the weight that comes with many layers. The stitched gash on his lower abdomen benefits from this, too. He doesn't like it, but Toothless is with him always and so is Sharpshot, who lies curled up on the table. His injured leg rests on another chair, the wound having been stitched closed and showing no signs of infection so far.

"Eh, tired. Maybe in need of some more painkillers. It's been a few hours and my everything hurts again." He answers as they walk further into the home, greeted by Toothless who croons their way happily. He's lying curled up around Hiccup's spot, helping him feel secure as he can't wear his "shield".

Ever since that night, something has changed in their group again. Talking with him, being around him, it's easier. It's as if there's been this tension for so long that nobody even noticed after a time, and now that it's finally gone and they can all feel that lack of weight.

"I'll go make some!" Fishlegs offers himself up and disappears into the kitchen.

"How is everything with the village outside?" Hiccup asks, hoping that his work isn't stacking up as he spends his time inside recovering. He is weirdly okay with staying indoors. So far, at least.

"We're managing things, the twins are actually fixing stuff more than they break it," Astrid informs him.

"Hey, we can be very good repair people." Ruffnut protests.

"Besides, just means there's more for us to break later," Tuffnut mutters to her, and the two snicker. Astrid and Snotlout both roll their eyes.

"We'll make sure they don't break stuff later." The latter promises with a deadpan. Hiccup smiles at him gratefully.

"Here it is!" Fishlegs returns with a painkilling, and possibly sleep-inducing, broth and hands it to Hiccup.

"Thanks," He says, taking it and then staring at it as he holds it in his hands. He's not exactly looking forward to it, these broths never taste that pleasant. This one doesn't even smell good.

He should take it, get rid of the pain, and maybe get some shut-eye. These blueprints can wait.

But first, there's been something that he's been contemplating as he waited for his friends' inevitable visit for the day. They always come by.

"Hey, um..." He starts, gaze still on the cup with the broth.

The Riders look at him, wait for him to talk, and say what's on his mind as there is clearly something.

They aren't quite prepared for the topic he's about to bring up, but the day they've been waiting for has finally arrived.

After some hesitation, Hiccup forces himself to say it.

"He never went all the way."

Surprised to hear him talk about it, the Gang listens.

"Vi-Viggo, he... He never..." Hiccup stops talking then and they don't interrupt or try to finish his sentence for him. They can tell it's taking him everything just to talk now, he's not even looking at them, hand coming up to hide most of his face from view.

Toothless purrs, sitting up to meet Hiccup at eye-level, but he's not looking at him either.

"It really did just stay with words and... and touches... Every time I got captured and taken to him, but... That's it, nothing else." It's not like they don't know that something's been done to him, but to actually hear him say it, to hear their suspicions be confirmed is something else entirely.

The twins share a saddened look, Fishlegs looks down at his hands, and Astrid and Snotlout both feel themselves tense up. It's been a good few years and still, it makes them so angry that any of it happened.

Back to the conversation, Snotlout wanted to remind him that that wasn't nothing, but Astrid stops him. Hiccup is finally talking, they should let him have his say before they comment.

Still unable to bear to look at his friends, Hiccup wipes his sweaty palms on his trousers.

"It-it-it... "It" never actually happened so-so it-so it just seemed so stupid to feel the way I did. The-the way I do. Like-like I was hurt when I wasn't." That was part of the problem, it wasn't as bad as it could've been and that made worrying about it seem so dumb to him.

He's lucky. That's what he's been telling himself. He's lucky.

"So stupid," He repeats, feeling like an attention seeker for something that was "not as bad as it could've been". So many people have suffered worse than him, he shouldn't complain.

He rocks nervously, trying to cope with the influx of memories that have festered over the years, with the shame welling up. Thus far they've only been dealt with by cramming them into the darkest corners of his mind, a fruitless effort that usually ends in frustration and anger. There they have continued to rot and chipped away at him piece by piece like an untreated infection.

Bringing it up now still hurts just as much as it would've hurt to bring up back then.

As a brief silence sets in, Astrid dares to take a step and sits down at the table on a seat next to him.

"I think you and I both know that he doesn't need to go "all the way" for this to hurt, Hiccup. What happened was so, so traumatizing, doesn't matter how far he did or didn't go. And it happened... It happened multiple times." Astrid has to swallow, feeling like she might throw up if she doesn't.

"If we were in each other's shoes, you would be telling me the exact same thing." She tells him and Hiccup finds that she has a point.

If this had happened to Astrid, to any of his friends, he wouldn't stand for them to call their reaction to being... to being... He wouldn't call them stupid, he wouldn't call them calls for attention.

"He hurt you and you have every right to be angry, even now." She continues.

"We all hurt you." Snotlout admits, coming to sit at the table as well. The others, they swiftly follow their example.

To hear them tell him that he has every right to be angry, to be hurt, is more relieving than he can ever express.

But there's a question Snotlout has been wondering about this whole time and he wonders if Hiccup will answer.

"How... I understand if you don't want to answer, but how far did he get?" If he's not ready to tell them yet, if he'll never be ready, then he'll understand.

Hiccup doesn't answer and while he's told them he never went "all the way", "not all the way" still seems to be pretty far.

He wants to cry again. The memories running rampant inside his mind, the non-existing hands that refuse to leave him, they make tears gather in his eyes.

He's in pain and has been for much too long. He feels like he's been on fire this entire time and that someone is finally putting out the fire.

It's with a mere cup, but it's a start.

Managing to look at his friends, Hiccup cautiously gazes at them all, fearing judgment as he finally bares it all.

Astrid reaches and takes his hand, squeezing it lightly. Perhaps, it's time to talk and let his family in.

[clovis-enthusiast]

Lotsa Clovis headcanons that you can pry from my cold dead hands

Keep in mind that these are just MY HEADCANONS! None of this is canon unless specifically stated! Feel free to agree or disagree. I juts rlly love my boy and his cabin and will gush about them for hours if given the chance.

Since there is a lot, I’ll put them under the cut so as not to clutter ur feed with my rambling! So uh click ‘keep reading’ to see me babble about my all time favorite character! Hope u enjoy if u read em and always feel free to send me a message about ur own headcanons! (I’m always thinking of more, so this post might be updated every once in awhile!)

He is very French. He was born in France and lived there for a short while before he and his mother (the reason I say mother instead of parent is because it was hinted at in canon that he has a mother. my go to name for her is Camille) moved to the US due to monster related problems. (He has a French last name. Something like Valois is my go to.)

French is his first language but because he moved to the US when he was quite young, he is very fluent in English. He often switches between the two languages when he’s EXTRA sleepy without noticing leading to a lot of confusion (and you can bet that he DEFINITELY swears in French because not many people at camp can understand him when he does. Those who do have a newfound respect and fear for him.)

He was initially a longtime member of the Hermes cabin even though pretty much everyone could guess who his godly parent was.

Was DEFINITELY a part of Luke’s army at one point due to the fact that he looked up to Luke as the older demigod had always treated him like a little brother, AND his godly brother Morpheus was also on Kronos’s side of the war. However, Clovis did not stay with them for long once things began to get bad and returned to Camp Half Blood with time. (Morpheus and Clovis now have a strained relationship.)

Best friends with Lou Ellen Blackstone of the Hecate cabin. They were both temporarily on Luke’s side of the war and were held with suspicion and distrust when they returned to camp, so they tended to stick by each other while the other campers warmed back up to them. Because of this, they are now very close and are always goofing around (much to the annoyance of the other head counselors aside from the Stolls, of course.)

Definitely had a thing for Nico di Angelo in the past. As the two boys are both the sons of underworld gods, Clovis had already felt a certain tug towards him. When he heard Nico’s story from the camp’s rumor mill (thank Lacy and Mitchell for that one) he became utterly infatuated. Over time, his curiosity turned more into a little crush which then became a BIG crush, but as neither Clovis nor Nico are really all that great with normal human interaction, the son of Hypnos’s flirting techniques sort of went unnoticed. That’s why Nico seems to be the only one being pulled into Clovis’s dreams at any given time despite Clovis being a ‘very strong dreamer.’ The truth is that Clovis has full control over who enters HIS dreamscapes. He tries desperately to impress Nico and help him out wherever he can, but when Nico eventually chooses Will to be his boyfriend, Clovis, though a bit sad that his first crush in a long time didn’t share the feelings, is VERY supportive. He loves to tease Nico about how hopelessly head-over-heels the broody teenager is over his sunshiney boyfriend. And if the two were ever to break up for whatever reason in the future? Well, Clovis is definitely still up for a shot.

Clovis and Nico are still VERY close. Clovis is one of the only people that Nico feels comfortable enough to be himself around and often confides in him whenever his negative thinking gets the best of him. Clovis also plays a big part in Nico regaining the memories of his past when he’s ready which he will forever be thankful for. The two obviously spend a lot of time together in dreams and greet one another in a warm fashion whenever they come across each other by chance at camp. This confuses literally everyone because literally no one has ever seen them interact before?? How are they friends?? 

Has HISTORY with Drew. No one is really sure what kind of history (it seems as if there was a little bit of memory erasure throughout the camp on the situation... hm...) but most people speculate that the two shared a romantic relation at one point in time. Turns out, they were NOT compatible, and the whole thing went up in flames. Drew still holds a huge grudge against Clovis who acts as though he could honestly care less. He still treats her politely though there have definitely been some not-so-subtle nasty looks cast across the campfire towards her direction before.

Also very close with Lacy and Mitchell from the Aphrodite cabin. Lacy feels terrible about Drew’s trash-talking and rumor-spreading and eventually works up the courage to say hi. They became fast friends, and Lacy definitely has a bit of a puppy-dog crush on him, but she is much too young for Clovis. He sees her as a little sister and allows her to put makeup on him, do his hair, and even tries on dresses and such just to make her smile. Mitchell, on the other hand, became friends with Clovis out of spite in all honesty and ended up liking the sleepy blond a lot more than he thought he would. He might have a teeeeeny tiiiiiny crush on him. Don’t tell Lacy.

Close with Pollux of the Dionysus cabin. Pollux sees a lot of Castor when he looks at Clovis which is a huge comfort to him. The two counselors have a lot of deep talks late at night, and Clovis always makes sure that Pollux is sleeping well without being haunted by nightmares. Dionysus would never admit it, but he is very thankful that someone cares that much about his only son.

Good friends with Rachel Elizabeth Dare surprisingly! He helps her out often, and the two like to sit and chat about mythology, artwork, and prophecies in the big house and at the campfire.

Has allies and friends in high places. Due to his powerful dreaming, he’s been to quite a few strange places and met quite a few strange people... or you could call them the gods, I guess. He knows a lot of the gods and goddesses from all kinds of mythologies (though obviously more of the Greek ones than anything) and they seem to like him well enough for some reason. (Probably because he’s one of the only demigods who doesn’t want to strangle them and doesn’t mind listening to them complain about petty godly things.) He often has little chats with them where he keeps them updated with the going ons of Camp Half Blood and they keep him updated about... godly drama. He kinda lives for it tbh. It’s part of the reason why he’s so informed about the gods.(Annabeth is maybe just the tiniest bit jealous.)

He’s a year round camper because it would be much too dangerous for him to go back to living with his mother. He stays in contact with her via dreams, letters, and Iris messages though!

MUCH more powerful than he lets on. He just doesn’t like conflict. 

One of his most frightening abilities is the ability to summon terrible creatures from people’s nightmares and use them to fight. He doesn’t like to do this as it can be very traumatizing for the people he uses it against, AND it’s not always a guarantee that the nightmare creatures will obey him.

His other more battle-ready powers are the ability to put an entire battle field into a deep slumber and memory alteration/erasure. He can use his memory alteration/erasure on monsters of weaker defenses AND demigods (though he feels much more comfortable using it on monsters.) He uses these powers to alter how monsters/enemies perceive demigods. Because of this, there are quite a few friendly hellhounds and scythian dracanae wandering about the camp. All of his powers are VERY draining and take a lot of concentration in order to work as intended. He will often sleep for days after a battle because of this.

He is also capable of fighting whilst asleep. In fact, his senses are heightened, and he tends to perform better this way. He also heals much faster while he is asleep. 

It is speculated that he will either grow wings from his head or his back, but it will not happen until he grows older. It’s a rare trait that few Hypnos kids (and Thanatos kids) develop, but due to Clovis’s power level, everyone is pretty much waiting for it to happen.

He can change his appearance at will in his dreams, but his aura is still the same, so he can still be identified pretty easily by people who know him personally. (As a side note, his eyes pretty much change color on their own to reflect the mood of the dreamscape he’s currently in. Gold, emerald, and violet are the most common colors. His true eye color is blue.)

Doesn’t really care about gender all that much. He has absolutely no problem with people referring to him using any pronouns (she/he/they) and is quite comfortable with himself in general. Many demigods who are questioning their gender comes to talk to him about it, and he’s always open to hearing them out and giving them advice.

VERY bisexual. Likes girls, guys, literally anyone who can keep him awake and interested for more than five seconds.

The unofficial official camp therapist.The role used to belong to Will Solace, but the truth is that the son of Apollo is much more comfortable dealing with physical ailments and problems he can fix medically than he is with dealing with feelings and mental ailments. Clovis is a very good listener despite the popular belief that he’s too busy nodding off to actually hold a conversation with properly and has a very calming aura that helps people feel safe enough to be vulnerable with him.

The go to babysitter of camp. Due to his Hypnos kid vibes, he is able to keep even the most rambunctious demigod and satyr children under control. His nap times are legendary. 

VERY big on respecting people’s privacy and boundaries. He tries his best not to enter any dreams uninvited, and he never talks about what goes on in people’s dreams ever. He also NEVER looks into people’s memories without their permission. He makes sure his siblings follow these guidelines strictly.

He literally lets anyone come into the Hypnos cabin at any time to get a good rest. The cabin has an open door policy.

New campers are often allowed to stay with the Hypnos cabin if they’d rather not face the chaos of the Hermes cabin.

Contrary to popular belief, his cabin is actually NOT the messiest cabin. The Hermes cabin wins that one though they’re followed closely by the Ares and Hephaestus cabins.

He and his siblings are some of the closest in the camp. They meet up and hang out in each other’s dreamscapes and have family nights. Clovis is the oldest AND is a head counselor, so he is very protective and responsible when it comes to his siblings.

Gives AMAZING massages. Leo and the entirety of the Hephaestus and Ares cabins are regular customers. Fight me. 

Actually a very good strategist when it comes to battles and such given that he’s awake enough to actually communicate his ideas. If you get them on your Capture the Team game, you’re already doing good. Annabeth and the Athena cabin love the competition, and they’re nearly unstoppable when they work together with him.

Clovis suffers from TERRIBLE narcolepsy, even for a son of Hypnos. It’s gotten him into a lot of bad and dangerous situations such as falling asleep mid battle, mid conversation, and even in the bath once when he was little. He has developed a fear of heights and water due to his condition.

Holds a lot of frustrations towards himself. Frustrated that he ever turned against the camp that offered him a home, frustrated that he couldn’t help Jason restore his memories, frustrated that couldn’t help more in the war against Gaea, just... frustrated. He tries to sleep off these negative moods because he doesn’t like to bring people down.

Absolutely not opposed to cuddling with people who are okay with it (he always asks first!) It’s a surefire way to get a good night’s rest since you’re so close to him, plus he’s very soft and warm!

Has a good singing voice, but just isn’t confident enough with it. He pushes through his insecurities to sing lullabies to those who really need them though. His lullabies are unmatched. 

Adores cats with all of his heart due to their lazy and relaxed nature, but he knows that he could never be able to care for one well enough. 

ALWAYS wears pajamas. Like all the time. Chiron has given up on enforcing the dress code. He also made sure to have custom made camp bracelets instead of necklaces to be sure that none of the Hypnos kids are choked/strangled by them if they happen to fall asleep in a bad place or position.

Lives in the past. Old movies, old music, old slang, you name it. I mean, he practically sleeps for the majority of his life, so it’s not all that surprising that he’s a bit behind the times. He thinks the modern age moves much too fast for him to keep up with.

The demigods of camp take turns making sure Clovis and his siblings are taking care of themselves. Walking them to the showers and dining pavilion, making sure they get a little sunlight each day, and the bare minimum of training.

He is the best boy.That is the only FACT that I do not accept criticism on. Thank you.

[mnthpprt]

Chapter 45: Skeletons In The Garden

It has been almost a week since I decided to give William a chance. More than that, I decided to earn his trust, no matter what it took. I think I am succeeding so far, but there is a price I have to pay. With every day we spend together in town, with every night we join our bodies into one, we become closer. Just as I have gained his trust, he is beginning to gain mine. I have to constantly remind myself why I came here, but then he looks at me with that smile, that light in his eyes... It takes all my effort not forget the reason I agreed to be with him in the first place.

I sleepily stumble around the kitchen in search of the jar of ground coffee, wearing nothing but William’s dressing gown. I borrowed it again last night to head back to my bedroom and fell asleep in it. Though the sleeves are way too long for me, the fabric is luxurious and soft, and I have taken up the habit of stealing it after our nightly activities.

A few minutes ago, William woke me up without bothering to knock on my door.  He said we were going somewhere, but did not explain any further. I was too tired to ask. Though it is not that early, I have been having more trouble sleeping than usual, and I have the feeling it has nothing to do with my new vampiric condition. Fuck, this man drives me insane in every way possible: I either want to kiss him, break his nose, or both. That last one gets very confusing, and usually ends up involving lots of bites from me, out of anger, and from him, in retaliation. 

I pour a cup for him before taking my coffee up to my bedroom. I stare at my clothes, which are laid out on the bed, as I drink it. I have been putting off returning to the mansion for my stuff, but I do need more dresses. I would also like to resume my research, so I’ll have to borrow some books for that.

When I return downstairs, empty cup in hand and hair loosely braided, William is waiting for me on the sofa. He offers me a bottle of rouge, and I pet Puck as I take it.

“Today is the troupe’s day off,” I observe.

“I know,” he simply replies. Where is he taking me? As if he could read my mind, he smiles and sips his rouge before explaining. “Dost thou remember how I wanted thee to meet someone?”

I nod, but narrow my eyes as the implication sinks in. Either he really trusts me enough to introduce me to his deranged accomplice, or this is his way to get rid of me once and for all. Sure, he has been nothing but charming and sweet since I moved into his house, but this is William. If there is a God, even He doesn’t know what he’s plotting.

An hour later, our carriage pulls up next to an old church. From the outside, I see no signs of it being used. It looks rather abandoned. However, as we approach the entrance, I catch the scent of burning candles, meaning there must be people inside. What is this place?

The wooden door creaks loudly when William pushes it open, just enough for us to pass through. Once inside, he closes it behind us.

“Please lock that, will you?” a man’s voice chimes from the altar. I cannot see him, but I hear glass tinkering behind the decorative screen in the back.

“Do not worry, we shall be quick,” William says, but obliges anyway. Great, now I am trapped here with a stranger who might have killed me.

He takes my hand and guides me down the nave. Our steps echo ominously under the high stone arches, and I have to take a deep breath to relax. Do not show them you are nervous, Anaïs, for they might take it the wrong way. For God’s sake, act normal.

We walk past the altar and into the ambulatory, where the stranger in question seems to have set up a lab of sorts, packed with all kinds of flasks, beakers, and, uh... medical equipment. Creepy. He is slightly taller than William, slender and dressed in clothing as black as his hair, and wears glasses with a chain around his neck.

“What do we have here?” he asks with a malicious grin that gives me shivers. He has a mild German accent. “Is this the neophyte you mentioned? She would make a fine guinea pig...”

“No, thank you.” He raises an eyebrow at my quick reply, while William chuckles and wraps his arm around my waist.

“My nightshade, this is Johann Georg Faust. Johann, meet Anaïs.”

“Faust like the legend?”

“The very same,” William smiles.

“Oh. Nice to meet you, I guess. So, um... What are you doing there?” I ask, pointing at the collection of scribbled on papers and lab equipment.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, fräulein Anaïs. I am sure you would find my experiments rather tedious...”

I ignore the condescending tone of his answer. A sculpture behind him has caught my eye. Faust interrupts his deceivingly polite excuse when I march past him to approach it.

“Oh, hell no,” I mumble. “María, cariño, ¿qué te han hecho? (Mary, honey, what have they done to you?)”

 I reach up to touch the Virgin’s gilded coat and, sure enough, the gold leaf crumbles in my fingers, leaving behind a glittery mess. I turn to the bespectacled man, only for my look of indignation to be met with his, equal parts intrigued and offended.

“She’s falling apart! See?” I show the golden dust on my palm to the two men. “I need to fix this before it gets-” Oh no he didn’t. Right beside Faust, on his work table, I see a clean rag neatly folded beside a bottle of clear liquid. ‘Carbolic acid’, the label reads. I bring the cloth to my nose and immediately put two and two together. “You wiped it with phenol?!” I exclaim, incredulous, as I furiously wave the rag around. “I don’t know why you needed to disinfect poor Mary over here in the first place, but for fuck’s sake, don’t do it again. God, no wonder everyone hates this stupid century, y’all discover something and decide to use it for everything without ever thinking about what it might do.”

“Everyone?” William asks, confused.

“This century?” Faust says almost at the same time.

“In my line of work, I mean,” I explain, completely ignoring the second question. I am not sure how safe it would be for me to mention that I come from the future. “Seriously, the amount of damage I’ve had to undo is insane. Why you people use so many questionable compounds is beyond me. Can I borrow a scalpel?”

“You came through the door,” Faust states. Shit, I guess he knows about it.

“Yes, I’m from the future,” I sigh, before grabbing a scalpel myself, not bothering to wait for permission.

I return my focus to the sculpture and carefully examine it. The state it is in is poorer than I had previously noticed. Judging by the proportions, it looks gothic. That makes it around 300 years old at least. Though the passage of time has obviously taken its toll, I have no doubt that its degradation has been made worse by well-meaning yet ignorant attempts at preserving it. Or, in Faust’s case, by his attempt to prep the area for whatever freaky surgical shit he has going on here. I must admit, the fact that he allegedly sold his soul to the devil for knowledge does not exactly reassure me about his intentions.

“The year 2020, to be exact,” I continue as I awkwardly manoeuvre around the sculpture to scrape some paint and gesso off the back in order to check the state of the wood underneath. “I’m guessing you’re not a pureblood... Do you know how to use a shotgun, by any chance?” I ask casually without looking up from my delicate task.

“Is this about Salieri?” Judging by Faust’s tone, I can tell he is rolling his eyes. “That would be Charles,” he sighs. Whoever this Charles is, Faust sounds like a bored babysitter. He has no interest in the conversation whatsoever. “May I have my scalpel back? You’re going to blunt it.”

“I’m almost done.” I manage to cut a cross section just in time to see him approach and forcibly take the sharp object from my hand. I then make my way back to the work table and search for what I need, carefully holding the thin slice of wood and gesso between my fingers. “Do you have a... What are they called, those round looky things with the handle?”

“Magnifying glass,” William aids.

“Yeah, that. Actually,” I change my mind when I see a pile of neatly stacked glass slides, “I’m gonna take one of these. I forgot that microscopes already exist. Where is yours, anyway?”

“Safely locked away,” the alchemist deadpans. Oh well, it looks like I’ll have to save my sample for later, then.

William takes my hand and gently ushers me away from the improvised lab, I assume to stop me from annoying its owner any further. Though he acts polite, I can tell it is nothing more than a weak façade that could drop any second.

“My dearest,” he says, “we should move on to the reason of our visit?”

“Vlad, was it?” I nod. He merely mentioned the name in passing days ago, but I have hung onto that minuscule snippet of information like my life depends on it. It might.

He leads me to a discrete door nestled in the corner of the transept to our left. Before we can reach it, however, Faust calls out from behind the altar.

“I look forward to studying you, fräulein.”

“Well, I do not!” I sing in response. He lets out an unnerving chuckle that I decide to ignore.

I follow William through the door and up a dark staircase. As we walk along the hallway, I get the feeling that he does not know exactly where he is leading me, either. Still, he finds the person he was looking for inside a small room. It looks like it had been used for storage in the past, but now is completely empty save for a desk and a few chairs. The white haired man sitting on one of them looks up when we enter through the already open door. This must be him. The pureblood that is going after the residents.

He is strikingly beautiful, despite the unnervingly red shade of his eyes. Dressed in expensive clothes, he moves elegantly to greet me. I instinctively do the polite thing and offer my hand for him to hold.

“Anaïs Bertran, I presume?” His voice is slightly breathy, and as delicately controlled as his poise. “You are as beautiful as a rose.”

I do not dare to complain out loud, but I give William an exasperated look, causing him to laugh. I smack his arm.

“Stop being a dickhead,” I scold him, even though I have to hold back a smile.

“Ah, I see you have thorns as well,” the other man chuckles. “It is rare for such a pretty flower to be so foul mouthed. I must confess I appreciate it, it adds character. Was that some kind of joke between you two?”

“I guess you could call it that,” I sigh. “I just think there are more interesting flowers to be compared to.”

“Such as?” he prompts.

“I don’t know, lisianthus, dahlias... Sunflowers are pretty nifty, and I’ve always liked orchids. People tend to think they’re really hard to grow, for some reason, but they just need a bit of attention and the right amount of light. Chrysanthemums are also really cool...” I ramble.

“Those are an old favorite of mine, but not as much as roses, I’m afraid. Do you enjoy gardening?”

“Is it that obvious?” I chuckle, embarrassed. “But yeah, I worked as a florist for a few years.”

“Oh?” he smiles. “I own a flower shop in town. I sense we are going to get along well, Anaïs. Oh my, how rude of me! I forgot to introduce myself. You may call me Vlad.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” I politely say before tilting my head. “I have to say, I find it a bit strange to be here, speaking to you. I mean, you sent a sniper after Salieri to stop him from revealing your identity, yet here we are, being formally introduced,” I remark.

“Yes, I am well aware of the incident that took place. Quite a fortunate outcome you got, don’t you think?”

“If by fortunate you mean bleeding out in a sewer, then sure, but I beg to differ.” A cold smile accompanies my response. Not only did dying obliterate any semblance of a schedule I had, it also caused me to be turned into... this. I have nothing against vampires, but I’d rather not go through the pain of being a neophyte, or whatever these people call it. 

“Pardon my crudeness, but isn’t that what happens when you jump in front of a bullet that is not meant for you?” Vlad quips.

“Yeah... That is the stupidest thing I have ever done, can’t argue with that logic,” I mutter, resigned. “By the way, if you’re gonna play with gunpowder inside a tunnel, I’d recommend finding another one that isn’t full of highly flammable methane gas. Just a tip,” I wink.

Our tense exchange is interrupted by a knock on the door frame. Under it stands another man with a boyish smile and shaggy hair.

“I bought those strawberries you- Oh.” He pauses when he sees me, his eyes growing wide in recognition. “Hello there.”

“Are you Charles?” I innocently ask, approaching him. When he nods, I smirk. 

There is no warning when I grab his jacket and shoot my knee into his groin at full force. I hear William’s incredulous snort behind me, along with a muffled chuckle belonging to Vlad.

“Argh, putain!” Charles groans, folding over in pain. I observe him as I wait for him to recover. “Why?” he cries from the floor. I simply pull my dress down to reveal the scar on my cleavage. His mouth opens and closes quickly, not knowing what to say.

“Sorry, just had to get that out of my system,” I explain with no trace in my voice of the violence I just displayed. “I’m Anaïs,” I smile, offering my hand. He takes it, and I pull him to his feet. The boyish grin returns to his face as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck.

“I am so sorry about shooting you, it was an accident. You jumped out of nowhere! I didn’t even want to in the first place, but- Ehem, sorry.”

I follow his gaze when he suddenly interrupts himself with a fake cough. Vlad’s eyes are slightly narrowed in what I can only assume is a look of warning. Okay, something’s going on. Well, yet another thing, on top of the long list of unexplained actions from this strange group of people.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say before the silence becomes awkward, “we’re even now.” I turn to the pureblood and look at him inquisitively. “Anyway, I have a lot of questions. I don’t want to judge until I know exactly what your intentions are for doing whatever it is you’re doing. I have to admit I am finding it hard to keep my emotions under control, so we better get on with it, yeah?”

I do not need to justify my volatile state. Vlad knows perfectly well that he was the one to cause it.