#i guess i couldn’t focus on anything and journaling what was happening around me kept me in the moment

[7rashstar]

09-13-22

[hanniiesuckle17]

Chapter 7: The Library

A/n: so this chapter has been long-awaited by some and i hope you guys enjoy it! the series will really start moving after this so i would love to hear what you guys think of the chapter! Sorry about any typos- i didn't have time to edit this with all my schoolwork this week! Tag List is Open <3

Tag List: @woodiegochile @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @jeonqqin @geminirules @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @kodzu-ken @konenichi @yangs-jeongin @binniebutter @orangegyu @little-precious-baby @raethethey @sofie296 @hongjoong-a-holic

RBTL Tag List: @bluejayboys @wonderlandless @introverted-stay24  @sunfics​ @deputyjuyeon​  @studioreader​

Warnings: Cursing

WC: 2.9k

Summary: True love has never come easy; life makes sure of that. From unrequited love to missed timing, does anyone have any hope at finding success- let alone pass History at the same time? All these questions leave young people wondering….will they still love me in the morning?

❖

Third POV

Y/n’s eyes grew tired as words about some minuscule event in history floated off the page of her textbook. She closed her eyes, stretching her neck-the bones cracking softly as her stiff neck rolled back. The odd silence drew her attention. Curious, she took the headphones from her ears and listened. All she could hear was the sound of raindrops falling against the large windows of the library.

It became quickly clear to the girl that she was alone and the only light in the room was coming from her little desk. “Hello?” She called out. Her voice echoed out from the second floor and filling the open building. When she heard no response, she shrugged and began pacing up her things to head home.

Though there was no response to the girl’s call there was in fact one lone soul left in the university’s library. One floor directly below Y/n sat a tall and slender boy, books piled high on his desk. Changmin twirled a pen between his fingers before checking his phone. His eyes widened seeing the time. Quickly he stuffed his journals into his bag, leaving his bag only half zipped. Red tuffs of fake hair stuck out as his doll was pushed towards the top of his bag.

The boy did a backtrack wondering if he should put his books away but decided against it knowing if he kept Chanhee and his friends waiting much longer then he might not live to see the midterm. Instead, he turned around and headed for the door- backpack on his shoulder and adjusting the glasses that were falling down his nose. 

It seemed fate was entirely focused on these two tonight. Only the storm clouds had a view of the girl walking down the stairs just in time to meet the boy as he stepped onto the main floor. The two shared a brief look- shocked to see another person at this hour, but continued their way to the front doors wordlessly.

Just the sight of the girl had Changmin’s hands starting a nervous sweat. He tried to focus on anything but how pretty he thought she looked with the dim light from the streetlamps outside casting streams of light over her face. As the two students grew closer to the door the sound of the storm outside grew louder. It was also easier for them to see as they neared the larger windows. 

Y/n reached out for the door. Surprisingly, she found resistance as she pushed. Again the girl tried, sending an awkward smile to the boy behind her. After pushing multiple times she gave up with a sigh.  “I- uh....I think it’s locked.”

“Locked?”

Changmin stepped forward and tried his hand at the closed entranced. He pushed and pulled until retreating, brows furrowed. “What you didn’t believe me?” The girl asked with a breathy laugh. Changmin’s eyes widened as he turned to face her.

“What- no! No, not all! I- I- I just...”

“I was just joking, don’t worry.” A timid smile quirked up the corner of the boy's lips. He watched as she shed her bag- placing it against the nearest row of shelves. “Should we try together?” His head moved faster than his mind could process Y/n’s words. He shed his backpack next to hers and the two turned towards the sealed doors.

In his mind, he knew that even with both of their strengths pushing, the industrial locks on the university doors would not break. “I’m Y/n, by the way.” Instead of looking at the boy, she readied herself at the door, palms pressed against the metal bar.

“Oh- I’m..uh...C-Changmin...”

“Well C-Changmin, push on three?” He nodded, finding Y/n’s smile, though small, even more enchanting up close. “One, two, three!”

The two of them pushed with all their might but to no avail. Y/n looked defeated as she pulled her phone out of her back pocket. Her delicate fingers pushed the button but the screen refused to light up. 

Changmin had a similar idea. He reached for his own phone. Both of them smiled as it lit up showing the time and 11% battery left. The grin quickly fell as he realized there was absolutely no signal. Using his long limbs to his advantage he reached up searching one measly bar. 

Y/n ran a hand through her hair. This was the absolute perfect way to end her already stressful and torturous day. She reached for the lamp on a nearby desk but a huge roll of thunder resonated through the building and it suddenly became even darker. 

“Well, this is the beginning of a horror movie if I’ve seen one.” Changmin joked, kicking the door with a grin. His smile fell as he turned to see the fearful look on Y/n’s face.

“Dude- why the fuck would you say that!” 

“I don’t know! I’m sorry!” He mentally hit himself over and over. Why did he say that? There was no need to break the silence. The silence was his safety net right now. If he was silent there was absolutely no way he could appear like some weird Freakazoid to her. He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, casting brief glances over at the pretty girl he had liked for so long.

The two gradually gravitated towards each other. There was really nowhere else to go. Y/n enjoyed the sound of the storm outside, letting it calm her ever-growing nerves. Changmin resisted the urge to engage in embarrassing small talk.

A bright crash of lightning brightened up the room in sheets just as Y/n’s eye fell on the two backpacks several feet away. Her scream echoed off the ceiling as she caught a glimpse of the Chucky doll peeking its head out of the boy’s bag. Instinctively, she grabbed onto the closest thing- which happened to be Changmin’s hoodie.

Heat flooded every inch of his face and he wasn’t quite sure where to put his hands so he settled for keeping them up in the air. Inside his heart was beating faster than he ever thought possible. It was like all of his senses were heightened the moment she touched him.

“What the hell is that?”

“Oh...umm...he’s my Chucky.”

“Your what?” She pulled away from him and Changmin instantly missed her touch. The girl all but laughed seeing the blush on his cheeks and his arms still raised in the air almost in surrender.

“My Chucky. You know- like from the movie...”

“Yes, I’ve seen the fucking movie!”

Nervously he adjusted his sweater before shuffling over and gently tucking his doll safely pack in his bag- out of sight from the still shaken girl. “Why are you carrying that around anyway?”

The scare had seemed to lessen the tension between both of them; though Changmin was still very aware of every word and action towards Y/n. “I was headed to a thriller marathon at my friend’s apartment after I finished some studying.” She nodded but in her mind, she wondered how if he had been studying for as long as she had, he did not have tears running down his face and a massive migraine. “I guess I just lost track of the time.” 

Y/n couldn’t help but smile a the boy’s lopsided grin. She found it endearing how one side was always high than the other. The more he smiled at her the more she wanted to take a picture of his little quirk.

Another weighted silence fell between them. Against his better judgment, Changmin began to speak. “I don’t mean to pry...but what were you doing here so late?” For a moment Y/n had forgotten all about her troubles that had been following her for the past month and a half. A visible heaviness pressed down her shoulders.

Her back pressed against the bookshelf and she let herself slide down to the floor. “I gave up on finding a tutor last week. I was hoping some miracle would happen if I read that stupid book long enough.”

At that moment she wasn’t just the girl he had been pining after since he was in braces. Changmin saw the exhaustion. He saw the complete lack of hope. He moved his backpack- which she had sat down next to and took its place. 

“What book?” He didn’t need to ask but saved her the embarrassment of telling her that he had been in the room for her lecture with Professor Jeong. Wordlessly she pulled out a book, her hand dipping in the air from the significant weight. “Ah,”

“Good ‘ah’ or bad ‘ah’?”

“I’m not sure which the situation calls for?” He said pushing up his glasses with a little smile. 

Changmin’s grin grew a little wider as he heard her laugh. Even sitting in the dark, her smile seemed to fill the room with a warm glow. “At this point, I think I’m just useless.” She pressed her forehead against the cool cover of the book. 

She wondered why she found herself so comfortable with this stranger. It felt easier to talk with this boy she had known for twenty minutes than to talk with her closest friends- even her parents. A small shock of something she could only describe as electricity, raced up her arm as the boy’s hand brushed hers. He reached for the book, gently taking it from her hands and opening it to the tabbed page. 

“You aren’t useless, Y/n,” His words gave her comfort, wrapping around her like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer. Changmin chuckled, turning the page. “However, one might find it useful to highlight only the useful information and not the entire page.”

He found it cute looking down at Y/n’s textbook. Most of the passages were marked with yellow highlighter- easy to see even in the growing darkness. Some lines were underlined in red and there were circled statements with question marks all over the page. It was evident that she was in fact trying. Actually, her notes were in more detail than his. 

“I just don't understand it.”

“What?”

“All of it.”

“All of history?”

“Sure- let’s go with that.” She shrugged leaning her head back on the bookshelf.  

“I think history can be confusing sometimes too.” Changmin let her textbook rest on his lap. The two of them looked out the huge windows in front of them, watching the storm rage on outside. Occasionally, a flash of lightning would light up the library. “You know, I’m in Professor Jeong’s class too.”

“You are?”

Chanhee was right. She had no idea he existed until now and unless he played his cards right, she would forget about him the moment she left this building. “Yeah...I sit two rows behind you.” He watched her eyes widened a little as if she was trying to recall every face she had seen in that classroom. “Actually...to be fully honest...I knew who you were before tonight.”

Her brows furrowed, creating a small crease in the middle of her forehead. Everything about her fascinated Changmin, even down to her smallest expression. Getting a little nervous, he started rummaging through his backpack. As he chose his next words carefully in his mind, Changmin pulled out a half-full plastic water bottle and portable charger he forgot he carried. 

Interested in the boy’s previous statement, Y/n watched him with intrigue. “I-uh....” His hands shakily turned on his phone’s flashlight after plugging his phone into the charger. “We went to the same high school. You and I have shared classes since grade nine.” Her jaw dropped a little at his words.

“I feel....like such a bitch.”

“Oh no-” He stuttered, trying to balance the water bottle over his flashlight- creating a makeshift lantern. 

“Oh my god, I am the biggest asshole! I’ve never once noticed you in seven years? You must hate me!”

His heart warmed, seeing how bothered she was. He felt a little pride swell in his chest knowing that Sunwoo and Chanee were completely wrong about Y/n. “No, not at all! I just think we had different friend groups that’s all.”

Shrouded in the light from their little water lamp the two of them exchanged old high school gossip that Changmin never quite understood from the outside. “Wait so Miyoung stole Yeonu away from Hajoon?” Changmin covered his mouth in shock, his eyes widening in a cute way. 

Y/n smiled and nodded, hand falling on his knee. “Yeah- I know right!”

“And Yeonu was the guy who-”

“Yeah who sold Class 4B the midterm answers!”

Changmin let loose a huge sigh. “Damn- I missed so much in high school by just studying and playing games.” This time a comfortable silence fell between the two students on the floor. By the way her eyes were drooping, Y/n assumed it was about three am. 

“Nah you just missed....a whole lot of drama.” She yawned shaking her head to stay awake. 

It was then that Changmin’s willpower gave in to the weariness of his body. His brain no longer had control of his mouth at that moment. “What if I tutored you?”

A sleepily smile slid onto Y/n’s face. She turned her head against the shelf to look up at the boy next to her. His hopes fell as she laughed a little. “I need more help than just History.”

“What else?”

“Math, Physics, Psych...”

“I can help you with all of that too!” 

Changmin hated how eager he sounded. “What are you? Some kind of genius?” She smiled even though her back was getting sore and the sound of the rain was lulling her to sleep. 

“No, just a mathematics major whose parents paid for top tutors until he was sixteen.”

The girl stared at him. Her expression was unclear. In her mind, she knew there had to be some catch. No way was this guy going to tutor her in all the subjects she needed for nothing. “What’s your rate, Genius?”

“Like money?

She nodded, turning to fully face the boy. Y/n waited for some terrible number that was hellbent on destroying her bank account. Changmin on the other hand was panicking trying to decipher what number was high enough to get her to say yes but not low enough to make her think that he wasn’t serious. “Um.....$8?”

“An hour? For four subjects?”

“Yes...”

“DEAL!” 

Once again Changmin was frozen as Y/n threw her arms around him in a hug. His hands returned to their familiar place- up in the air, shaking, and far away from her. 

The pair spent the next hours with textbooks sprawled around them. Changmin patiently assessed where Y/n was in each of her subjects, surprised how someone of her intelligence was struggling. He found that she was indeed very bright- but simply not understanding the information the way it was being given to her. 

Neither of them noticed the rain stopping or even the sun rising with a pink and orange glow coming over the horizon, morning light sliding across the marbled floor. They didn’t even notice the sound of keys being turned in the front doors hours earlier they tried so hard to open. 

“What are you kids doing here?” The two students looked up to see one of the librarians standing in the doorway, keys in hand. 

They looked at each other before scrambling to grab their things and running out the doors. The warm, wet morning air greeted them as they stumbled outside. The sun was just peaking over the buildings and Y/n smiled at the dew clinging to the bright green blades of grass lining the sidewalks. It was a new day and a new hope filled her chest. “We’re finally out!” Changmin cheered, jumping up and down adorably. 

Y/n found it precious that someone so tall and graceful looking could be so clumsy and cute. “Changmin, I can’t thank you enough. I don’t think anyone could have explained the Joseon Era principles better.”

“Oh- i-it was nothing.”

“Here,” Taking a pen from her pocket she reached for his right arm and rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie. He took the moment to once again appreciate her beauty up close while the girl wrote her number on his arm. When she was done she placed the pen in his large hand and looked at him expectantly. “Aren’t you going to give me yours?”

Changmin vigorously nodded his head ‘yes’ and internally screamed at his brain to remember the numbers to his own phone number. With anything but steady hands, he wrote his number on her forearm and basked in the glow of the smile he received.

“So-uh..I’ll call you? You’ll call me? We can talk about times that work?”

“Yeah! Dates....and what not...Study-dates I mean! Tutoring! Yes.”

“Awesome! I can’t wait! Thank you so much, you have no idea how much you are saving my ass.” Y/n cheered as she started to back away towards her dorm. 

“So you’ll call me?” He called after her. His feet were planted firmly where he stood for he feared if he moved an inch he might float away.

She laughed, her smile even brighter in the growing daylight. “Or something, yeah!”

“Okay!” He watched Y/n unit she rounded a corner before letting all the joy explode from his body in a fit of jumps, hollers, cheers, dance, and maybe what some might consider singing. 

The sun basked in the boy’s glee as he danced and jumped his way down the sidewalk screaming “YES! SHE KNOWS WHO I AM!” His body was no longer sore and his mind was no longer tired. Instead, he ran all the way back to his apartment with a grin that the sun could not compete with. 

Previous Chapter ❖    Next Chapter

RBTL M.List

Masterlist

[snaktooth-journalist]

Bugsnax Fanfic: Snaktooth’s Last Secret

Well here’s a Filbo/Journalist fanfic I’ve been working on off and on as a way to explain another Bugsnax theory. I have a few chapters done, but not in order. Here’s the first one in any case. Writing is not the best, but alas. As always, @snorpington-fizzlebean has been helping me with brainstorming, data gathering, and editing. This man... Is my Angle... Beware of spoilers

“There’s something that’s been bothering me…” 

Filbo looked up from the pile of paper at his paws. He had a small, focused frown from being shaken from his thoughts, but it curved into a friendly grin as your words registered. Filbo always smiled when you spoke to him. “What’s that, Buddy?”

You couldn’t help the small, reflexive smile that pushed your own mouth up. It was easy to rub away with your paw, especially as you focused back on what was bugging you. Your eyes grew serious beneath the brim of your hat. 

“Lizbert’s ship.”

Filbo’s smile was now a neutral line. You tapped the map in front of you. 

“The night I arrived at Snaktooth island, I saw the wreckage briefly. That ship had been smashed to bits, and at Flavor Falls no less.”

You looked up right as Filbo looked down. He shuffled the papers in front of him nervously, and the obvious change in demeanor grabbed your attention. You stared at him with a laser focus as you went on.

“The ship had allegedly been docked at the Boiling Bay, but somehow, it was moved and dashed against the cliffside sometime between Lizbert’s arrival and when Cromdo went looking for it after the big fight. In fact, Cromdo was the only one to even mention the ship to begin with.” 

Filbo was scratching his cheek nervously. 

“If it was a giant bugsnax that destroyed the ship,” you continued, “Cromdo and the rest of the settlement would have known about it. What’s more, if it had been a bugsnax, then it would make no sense that the ship itself had been moved.” No, the wreckage seemed much more deliberate to you. You had only caught a glimpse, but the ship had been utterly shattered at the bottom of the cliffside, like someone had deliberately steered it against that jagged stone facade. The location of the crash meant that almost nothing could have been recovered from the wreck. It was like it had been on purpose-

“Um. Buddy…?” Filbo glanced up at you with all the tentative shame of a puppy dog. “Yeah, that... That was me.”

You blinked at him, surprise wiping your mind like a dry erase board. Filbo laughed sheepishly, but it was a nervous sound, not a happy one. His eyes flicked between yours and the papers in front of him. “I… It was an accident!”

“Lizbert let me take it. I was trying to move it so it would be closer to the settlement, and I guess, the wind it just, caught the sail weird…” He sighed. He was small in his seat, shoulders hunched in embarrassment. You wanted to put a paw on them to get him to uncurl.

“Liz covered for me… She kept it a secret. That’s why no one knew about the ship…”

You nodded a bit, processing. “…Hey, wait,” You squinted, and Filbo’s head snapped up, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Didn’t you ask to sail my ship within the first few hours of knowing me??” You grinned, crossing your arms. You were laughing, and though it took a second for Filbo to laugh with you, he sounded genuinely relieved.

“Well, if at first you don’t succeed…!”

“Then borrow someone else’s equipment the next go around.” You finished, laughing. His shoulders had relaxed again, and he was smiling. It made your own grin grow.

“Give me some credit here! I piloted us out of there, didn’t I?” He teased, starting to stand.

You began gathering up your own papers. “You did, I’ll give you that one.” Your paws slowed as you looked down at your journal, your grin falling slightly. You rubbed at your mouth again as Filbo looked between you and your work.

“What’s the matter?” He asked softly.

You hummed quietly. It was nice having someone to talk to when you hit a rut like this. “Nothing… Just a feeling I have. Like I’m missing something.” You put your paw on your journal, as if the information you wanted would be released with the gentle ‘plap’ sound it made when your paw connected to the surface.

“Call it a journalistic instinct. I just feel like I haven’t figured something out yet. Like there’s an answer I need, but I don’t know what questions I have to ask to get at it.” You shook your head. The island had poured out all it’s pertinent secrets. You knew what happened to Lizbert. But you still felt like someone was hiding something. Something big. You were perplexed but you couldn’t pin down why.

It surprised you when you felt Filbo’s paw on your shoulder, and you looked up at him thoughtfully. The smile he gave you was a surprisingly soft one. Your own smile shone through your eyes as much as it did your mouth. “…I guess it’s pretty late.” You admitted. Normally that wouldn’t have stopped you.

“Definitely. Let’s get some rest, okay? I think we’re almost done.” Filbo gave you a tired smile. You didn’t feel like you were close to done yet, but you only nodded.

“Need anything?” He hadn’t for the past three nights, but you asked anyways. It was weird actually having a guest in the guest room.

“No, just a good night’s rest, heh!” Filbo stretched, heading towards his room. He paused at the door and looked back at you with an easy smile. “Night, buddy.”

“Goodnight Filbo.”

You laid in bed that night staring at the ceiling, the undiscovered mystery hunting you inside your own head. Something was missing. Something was wrong. Eventually a light, uneasy sleep overtook you, and restless dreams of darkness and hidden eyes flitted through your mind until morning. 

[thinking1bee]

When it Reigns Part 5

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Kara Danvers x Reader

Tags: Angst, Kryptonian!Reader, Parent!Reader, Parent!Kara, Estranged Parent, Graphic Depictions of Injuries, Blood, Humor, Bad Dreams, Memory Loss

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover

It took some more investigative journalism, but you and Kara found out that it was Edge who was behind poisoning the kids. He orchestrated the plan to have chemicals dumped into the pool, and then to frame Lena further by dumping the same chemicals into National City’s water supply. Luckily with some saving from Supergirl, Edge was thrown behind bars and a cure was made for the families afflicted. You sighed for a day well done and you were in the process of saying good night to Angel.

“Will Luke be okay?” she asked you and you smiled.

“Yes. He should be getting better as we speak.”

You leaned down and kissed her forehead when Angel froze.

“Hey what’s wrong?”

She blinked. “You have a hole in your shirt.”

You looked down to see what she was talking about. Sure enough, there was a tear in the fabric of your blouse, and you held it in confusion, wondering how it got there.

“Oh, weird,” you said, shrugging it off. “Sweet dreams, okay?”

Angel nodded before she closed her eyes and you left quietly, smiling fondly as your daughter drifted off to sleep. As you walked down the hall, you felt at the tear in your shirt, and as you kept playing with it, something cold and metallic fell from the torn threads and landed on the floor with a sharp clang. You paused, bending over to pick up the object, and when you inspected it, you saw that it was a bullet.

You were…shot.

And you didn’t feel it.

Your hands went to your stomach, feeling around for anything unusual. You even lifted your shirt to see if there was anything wrong. There was nothing. Just the expanse of smooth and unharmed flesh. You swallowed hard as you looked up, seeing nothing but the emptiness of the hallway in front of you. You couldn’t ignore any of this anymore. You needed answers, so you went into your room and packed a small travel bag. You’d be gone for a day tops and hopefully, you would find what you needed. As you packed, you dialed for Kara, and she answered in the first ring.

“Y/n is everything okay?” she asked, and you smiled. Your darling wife, ever the worrier.

“I’m fine babe,” you replied with the smile playing at your lips. “I was wondering if you would be okay with watching Angel. I need to take a trip.”

You could practically hear Kara fix her glasses while shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Is everything okay?” she asked again.

“I think so. I just need to pay a visit to my mother.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

The question was justified. The relationship between you and your adopted parental figure was less than stable. You’d soon go to hell voluntarily before stepping foot in her house again, but this was important. Something was going on with you and you needed answers. You had to start somewhere.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Kara accepted your promise, trusting that you would be fine like you said. “Okay, just come back soon.”

You smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” you replied, and you disconnected the call.

***

Kara nibbled her lips, staring at the screen when you disconnected the call. She couldn’t help but think that something wears wrong and that you wanted her to think that everything was okay. Whatever it was, she knew that she would have to wrap this up soon. Angel was already home, and judging by the clock on Kara’s phone, was also in bed.

“…Kara?”

Kara looked up to see everyone in the DEO staring at her and she hastily put her phone back in her pocket.

“Sorry.”

“Is everything okay?” Alex asked and Kara shrugged. That was all she could do.

She was so worried about you. Ever since Angel told her about your selective memory loss, she had been so preoccupied with you that it was evoking distracting. She knew she should have followed up with that. She trusted you, as she did, but something was telling her to dive deeper into it and she ignored it. What could be going on that you felt the need to reach out to a woman that you had spoken to in years? Was everything that bad? And what about when Angel got hurt. Angel told her that it was a city light pole that fell on top of her, but she had been less than forthcoming with the details as to how she got free from under it. Things weren’t making any sense.

“Kara?”

Kara blinked and focused on everyone again. Alex had asked her a question and she went on a mental spiral.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, but everyone looked at each other with skepticism. If Kara was truly okay, she wasn’t very convincing about it.

“Are you sure?” Alex asked, mirroring Kara’s early question to you. She nodded.

“Yes. Let’s focus on what caused the earthquake.”

Alex gave her once last look, her eyes searching. Kara nodded, her eyes focused on hers, knowing that she would know what it meant. We’ll talk later. Alex nodded before turning her attention back to the giant screens in front of her.

“Go ahead, Winn.”

Winn typed on his tablet before he dragged his finger across the screen, his wrist flicking, before what was on his tablet appeared on screens for everyone to see. On them was a map, with a single dot highlighted on a specific location. From the dot came virtual shockwaves that pulsed from the single location and spread outwards.

“I was able to pinpoint the exact location of the earthquake,” he explained. “But theres nothing out there.”

Beside him, J’onn nodded and crossed his arms. “I flew from the center and covered the entire area of coverage. There’s nothing there except cracked earth and debris.”

“So, if there’s nothing there, where did the earthquake come from?” Kara asked.

“That’s the mystery,” Winn said as he turned his attention back to the pulsating dot on the screen. Kara watched as the shockwaves emanated from the point over and over, the feeling of foreboding sending a chill down her spine.

***

You pulled up to your mother’s house and put the car in park. She still lived all the way out in Metropolis and was still in the same house and everything. It was like nothing changed. Well almost nothing. She may have stayed the same, but you changed entirely. No matter what happened, you promised to keep your cool. There was a reason why you never so much as sent her a Christmas card. So, you took a deep breath and squared your shoulders, before getting out of the car and knocking on the door. It took a bit of knocking but she finally answered, and she looked at you like she had seen a ghost.

“Y/n?”

“Hello, Elizabeth,” you greeted. “May I come in?”

After some small talk and a glass of water that you still hadn’t drank from, it was finally time to address the elephant in the room. Though if it were up to you, the elephant wouldn’t need to be pointed out anyway. Just acknowledge it and move on.

“I haven’t seen you since…” Elizabeth swallowed thickly, a nervous chuckle escaping her. “Well, you know.

“I couldn’t imagine why you’d expect me to keep in touch after you kicked me out.”

“I did that to teach you a lesson!”

She still believed that? Even after all these years?

“That’s odd because that wasn’t what it felt like.”

She looked away from you, her eyebrows furrowed in hurt, and you had to resist the urge to scoff. Her little act wasn’t going to work on you. You decided that you had enough with strolling down memory lane.

“Do you know where I can find my birth parents?” you asked. At that, her head snapped up and she met your eyes.

“Why?”

“That doesn’t matter. Do you know or not?”

She didn’t answer, she only stared at you, and you could feel your irritation grow. You never asked her of anything, not since she kicked you out, and now that you were asking about your real parents, after all these years, now she wanted to give you a hard time???

“I’m sorry,” was all she said. You smirked and she looked at you.

“You have got to be kidding me. Then at least tell me which adoption agency you adopted me from.”

Elizabeth shook her head, and you actually snapped your fingers, pointing at her as your irritation morphed into rage.

“I’ve never asked you for anything once you threw me out, and this is how you want to play this?!”

“That was to teach you a lesson,” she repeated, like the explanation would make everything okay.

“That what?” you demanded. “That it was never okay for me to like who I liked?”

“You know that I didn’t approve of your homosexual escapades.”

“Oh yeah, and then I dated a guy to make you happy. Good thing for me that he knocked me up and left the moment he found out I was pregnant. I was 19! I needed someone there for me! I needed my mom!”

“Y-you were pregnant?” she whispered, horrified that she hadn’t known until now.

“Yes! And you would have known that if you had just listened to me!”

Elizabeth had thrown you to the side after finding out that you had sex with him. She wanted a good Christian daughter, one that followed every rule in the Bible. That wasn’t you, and no matter how much she tried to force you to learn, or how much she forced you to go to church, it would never be you. Even now. You were happily married and trying your damnedest with your daughter. The relationship with her sperm donor may have been a huge mistake, but Angel never will be that. She was so much more. She was the reason you never gave up, and the woman that was in front of you, was the reason why you never learned to be a good mom. You spent your whole life being what she wanted for her sake.

“Did you keep it?” Elizabeth whispered.

“Her name is Angel,” you said sternly, and you had the satisfaction of watching her flinch. “And I guess by technicality you do have a granddaughter.”

“How is she?”

You stared at her, really stared at her, incredulous that she thought that she had the right to ask about Angel.

“If you think that I would let you, with your religious, Bible thumping poison and rhetoric around her, then I must be on crack.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I’m sorry.”

It was way too late for sorry. That wouldn’t work on you either.

“Do you know anything about my birth parents or the adoption agency that you got me from?” you asked again.

“Why do you want to know so bad?”

You had to stop yourself from screaming in from frustration. Instead, you took a deep breath and looked down.

“Things have been happening to me, Elizabeth,” you started as you looked at her intensely. I keep blacking out to do only God knows what and then I have no recollection of going anywhere or saying anything. Earlier this week, a pole fell on my daughter, and I lifted it clear above my head and threw it away as though it weighed nothing. Yesterday I was at a press conference when someone open fired into the crowd. I was shot, Elizabeth, and I didn’t feel anything. I pulled the crushed bullet from my clothes but there were no marks, no cuts, no anything. The past few weeks have been weird, and I swallowed the anger I have with you to ask you for your help. Now if you know anything, now would be the time to tell me.”

Elizabeth looked at you and was quiet. It seemed like she wasn’t going to say anything until she nodded her head, deciding something internally, before she looked at you.

“Follow me. I want to show you something.”

Part 6

[imagine-it-to-be-true]

Fix You - Caius Volturi x FemOC Three Shot: Part 2

Hey guys! So, originally, this story was supposed to be a One-shot. But because of the overwhelming amount of requests I’ve received (thank you so much sweeties, by the way), I’ve decided to make it into a three parter. This is part 2, and the first part can be found on my blog. I’m not sure when I get around to writing part 3 as uni starts back up today, but I’ll try my best not to keep you in suspense for too long. This part is more centred around chaos than romance. Nothing belongs to me (including the GIF) Also, warnings: violence, blood, death.

Andromeda’s POV

The sensations were weird. First, I had been in a lot of pain around my stomach region. I could hardly breathe, let alone express my pain to the handsome-yet-creepy, blonde stranger taking care of me. Though I’m sure he knew. I mean, even I knew I was dying, and he was helpless to save me, so I didn’t bother speaking. I could see the concern in his eyes and hear his sweet whisperings as he stroked my cheeks and wiped away my tears. But these little comforts were not enough to stop the hurt. Then, when I saw him holding a huge syringe, it sent me into panic mode. I never liked needles, not to mention ones which were about to inject unfamiliar liquids into me. But he reassured me it would help, which calmed me down. Not like I could defend myself in that moment anyways. I guess it couldn’t hurt me more. It turned out he was right. After a few minutes, I noticed the pain slowly going away. Maybe it wasn’t the liquid, but the fast-approaching release of death, I wasn’t sure. My cries began to slow, and I could feel more pleasant sensations, such as the pale man stroking my hand with his thumb, gently massaging circles into it. Then, he asked,

“What is your name, omorfiá mou?”

Gasping for air, I attempted to speak,

“Andromeda,” came my whispered reply. With my half-opened eyes, I was able to see his perfect lips draw up in a smile. Focusing on his features, I didn’t even realize that my pain was entirely gone, and I was feeling rather loopy. I watched the man bend down closer to me, brushing my hair back and running his ice-cold knuckles down the side of my neck. Suddenly I felt a sense of vulnerability. I felt his cool breath hitting my ear as he whispered,

“Do not be afraid. You will live forever. You are mine now, and I will never let anything hurt you again.” I was confused and fear began to resurface. I had gotten away from one creep, only to be taken by another. This man scared me to my core. But before I could dwell on my thoughts, I saw him quickly lean down towards my neck, as if he was about to kiss me. That was not what happened.

Indeed, I momentarily felt his cool lips touch the sensitive skin of my neck. But then a sharp pain erupted. Whatever it was that he injected into me was definitely helping. I was aching again, though differently this time. It was a dull, electrifying, fiery sensation, which immediately spread from my neck to my brain, and all the way down to the tips of my toes. My body was on fire, but it was not as intense. If one were to be scratched over and over and over again, pain would increase. This was what I was going through. It was continuous and that was making it worse. An hour had passed, then two, then I lost count. I couldn’t see anything anymore, my vision clouded. Yet I could still hear him. He never seemed to leave. Others would come and go. Time would pass and I would feel needles in my arms. I assume he kept injecting me with whatever it was, which managed my pain; probably morphine. I learned his name was Caius from others who had come in and spoken to him. Caius. What an unusual name. But it fit him.

He had injected so much morphine into me that the dull burning sensation eventually stopped. That, or perhaps I adjusted to it. I could not tell how much time had passed, but by now, it had been a while, for sure. I had given up. If it were not for his constant voice, and feeling of his icy hands touching my own, I would have believed I passed on. But eventually, my vision slowly began to return. I hadn’t felt injections in hours, and no pain returned, which was strange.

The entire time I lay there, presumably dying, I thought of my life. Who would miss me? I had no parents. Both died in a car crash when I was 12. I was in the back seat and miraculously survived. Given no time to adjust to the tragedy, I was immediately placed in a foster home in New Haven, where I experienced endless amounts of bullying. But as with all foster children, my stay was temporary. For the next five years, I bounced from one home to the next. This made me reserved, quiet, and untrusting. I was socially awkward and had very few friends. My main comforts came from the company of animals. Truthfully, I got used to this solitary existence, finding that I expressed myself better through storytelling than the spoken word. In fact, my unfortunate childhood did not impact my standing at school. I was always a good student, and this landed me a fully paid scholarship to NYU where I completed a double degree in journalism and history. The lack of family and friends allowed me to dedicate all my time to my studies and work, which was conducting research for my professor. Then, after graduating, I decided to make a drastic change and start fresh with a move to Europe. For the last two years, I had spent my time travelling several countries and writing articles on historical artifacts, buildings, and churches. I sold my stories to networks as a freelance historical journalist, living alone and moving often from place to place. In fact, Volterra was my last stop in Europe before I planned to relocate to Egypt and focus on Pharaonic history there. Not many of Volterra’s tourists knew about the building I had been photographing, which was off the main street and down an alleyway. It was not glamorous, but historic, which drove me to it. That is where I was and what I was doing when I was suddenly grabbed and dragged into a dark alleyway.

My life had been flashing before my eyes over and over again. I wanted to live. To do better. To be better. I was sick of being alone. So, when my vision began returning, I was filled with motivation to live. Really live. Finally, I could focus my eyes. I stared up at what appeared to be a bed canopy. It was velvet, and dark red in color. To my right, I could sense the smell of burning candles. It was so prominent that it made my nose burn. My hands were balled into fists, grasping the cotton sheets and I could see that I ripped holes in them. How much pain was I in that I ripped a bedsheet with my bare hands? I then noticed something strange. I was not breathing. Since when was I not breathing? This frightened me immensely, and I bolted into an upright sitting position. As I did, the bed violently shook. The canopy swayed as if it would collapse at any second. Did I do this? I’m a weak little girl who couldn’t even fight off a drunk man in an alleyway, how was I doing all this? I heard a sound to my left and immediately snapped my head towards the source. It was a young woman – girl more like it – that I did not recognize. She had strange red eyes, much like my rescuer. But she frightened me more than him. There was a certain evil surrounding her, I could sense it. How, I did not know. All I knew was that she did not wish me well.

“Hello, Andromeda.” She spoke coolly.

I looked at her, suspicion and confusion painted over my face.

“H-how do you know my name?”

“Master Caius told me.”

‘Master?’ that sounded strange. Not something a girl would call a man. What was this, a sex trafficking operation? Before I could speak, she continued.

“He has been by your side. He will return any minute now. He went out hunting for you.” She spoke like an information-giving robot: just spewing facts, unmoving, her expression unchanging.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Hunting… that’s not necessary. I- I don’t eat meat.” Her expression finally changed. Her smirk transformed into a creepy smile, and she let out a laugh.

“Believe me, dear girl. It is not exactly meat he will be returning with.” She turned on her heels and stormed out of the room. Two guards opened the bedroom door for her and shut it as she left. So, they have my room guarded. I guess they aren’t going to let me leave.

I was not in a hurry; I needed to see Caius. Thank him. And ask him how he was able to fix me. Was I remembering correctly that he bit me?! What a strange thing to do. I looked down on my stomach, which was completely injury-free. Then, I reached my hand to the back of my neck, trying to feel any bitemarks there. Nothing. What the hell? I did not understand. I had a lot of questions and needed answers, the most pressing of which was why my throat was on fire. I would have asked the girl, but something in me yelled to keep my distance from her; that she was dangerous. Slowly, I stood up from the bed, noticing that the white dress I had on when I was shot was no longer on me. Instead, I wore a soft, white nightgown, with lace on the collar. It seemed like a typical garment from Tudor England, or something. It was unlike anything I had seen in any mall or shop. Come to think of it, the entire room had a historic, gothic feel to it. The décor resembled a royal palace.

My feet hit the marble floor and I began walking around the room, making my way to the bookshelf. There, a massive assortment of books awaited. However, they were not the typical books one would find in a normal home. These were all historic and ancient. I picked up a copy of the Iliad. Looking at the bindings, I could tell the book was old. More interestingly, it was still written in Homeric Greek – not a language many would be able to read. Whoever this belongs to was most definitely smart.

Suddenly, I felt the burning in my throat worsen. The sensation intensified to the point where I was nearly panicking. Ready to run for the doors and ask the guards for help, I heard footsteps approaching.

The door swung open, and the man… Caius walked in. No longer dying, I could properly admire his features. He looked perfect, truly. Not a single flaw on his face or skin. His nearly white, blonde hair carefully combed back behind his ears. He moved towards where I was sat in an armchair and knelt in front of me. Immediately, I was filled with a calmness. It was like I was home. I cannot describe it completely, but it was as if all problems were erased, and I was safe. This was the second time I managed to judge a person based on feelings, all within the last few minutes. First with the young woman from earlier, and now Caius. Before he could speak, the feeling was gone, and replaced once again with unease and danger, as I watched the young woman reappear, dragging a man by his wrist. Behind her, the guards entered the room and stood on either side of the man. I could feel that he was not dangerous, as the fear was practically radiating off him. The woman stepped behind him and gave him a push towards me.

“Dinner,” she stated coldly. I looked from her to the frightened man, to Caius. I could see annoyance on his face, as he turned to her and spoke.

“Must you, Jane? Do you not know of patience?”

“Forgive me, Master Caius. You were not one to show patience often, and I do learn from you.” She stated simply.

When Caius turned to me, I was grasping my throat, which was burning almost unbearably. “What is happening?!” I choked out.

“I know this will not make sense to you right now, and I will explain everything, I promise. But the only thing that will stop the ache is if you drink blood. You need to drink this man’s blood.” Caius whispered to me, out of earshot of the poor man.

I froze and looked at him with wide eyes, face in complete and utter shock.

“WHAT?! What did you just say?!” I exclaimed, not believing what I heard.

He sighed and leaned in once again, whispering. “In order to save your life from your injuries, I was forced to turn you into a vampire. You need blood, and you need it now. Trust me.” He tried again.

“I WILL NOT! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!” Hastily standing, I pushed him away. My intention was to give him a normal, hard push so that he gets the message. But nothing prepared me for what happened. When I pushed him, he went flying across the room and hitting a marble column, which shattered on impact. Immediately, the room was filled with noise and dust as the column went crashing down around him. I pushed myself into the corner of the room and watched in terror. That impact would have killed an elephant. Yet Caius, simply rose, brushing dust off his blazer and pants. The evil woman – Jane as he called her – appeared emotionless as she turned her attention from Caius to me.

“Fine. More for us then,” she said. What followed, was simply too much for me to handle.

First, I heard Caius yelling, “Jane, NO!” In one swift motion, she tore the frightened man’s throat with her teeth. Blood gushed out from the wound, spilling all over the white marble floor. I screamed in terror. But what was even more terrifying than the poor man’s death, was the smell of his blood. It was driving me crazy. It was like nothing I had ever experienced it. I craved it. Needed it. And was so close to taking it all for myself. But with any remaining strength I had left, I stopped myself. This was not me. I was a vegetarian because I cared for the well-being of animals. There was not a thing in the world which would force me to do anything to harm another living soul. So, I curled up in a ball in my corner and rocked back and forth, trying to focus my senses on anything other than the delicious smell of blood.

“I will deal with you later. Take him and leave, now!” I heard Caius’ voice. “You are not to come here again; you are not to see her! Now go!”

“Yes, Master Caius.” I heard her disgusting, venomous voice once again as she left. The doors closed and the room was filled with silence.

I momentarily thought Caius left too, but then I felt the sensation of safety return to me.

“How did I do that?” I ask with a shaking voice.

“You are a new vampire. For the first few weeks, you will be stronger than the rest of us. This will pass, and you will adjust.” He said gently.

I continued hugging my knees and rocking. Caius continued.

“This is not how a newborn should experience the first moments. But Andromeda…” he hesitated, “You need to feed. If you do not, it will only get worse. Your awareness will seize to function, and you will eventually kill more than you would have otherwise.”

With no response from me, Caius reached for my hands, placing his own over them. This woke a rage inside of me. I grasped his wrists and pushed him backwards. His back hit the wall, not as hard this time. I began speaking.

“You did this to me. You made me this… this… monster. This is on you. You should have let me die. Now, because of your selfish need for heroism, I will murder countless others.”

We both rose to our feet. He gently approached me again, saying my name, but I held my hand up to block him. “Get out. I don’t ever want to see you again. I hate you.”

With that, I pushed him towards the direction of the door. He paused,

“Andromeda-”

“GET OUT!” I picked up a glass vase and threw it in his direction, and he finally left. I sat down on the cold marble tiles, pressing my back against the wall, and screamed in agony.

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 8

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 8

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1416

Summary: A dream starts to change the reader’s perspective on her life with Sam.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w  b u r n

           It took weeks but the physical touch you’d gotten so used to came back one handhold at a time until finally it seemed like maybe Sam had made peace with The Sledding Incident. You never forced it, didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to push him away. Waiting felt like starving with a ten course meal on a silver platter in front of you, but it paid off. Whether he realized he was rewarding you or not, the space to let Sam process was met with absentminded hands slipped around your waist at the grocery store, non-secrets hummed into the skin of your jaw and neck as you stood just barely too close, loose pieces of hair tucked behind your ear when you washed glasses at the bar. The positive reinforcement limited the clinging you’d been doing since you’d first driven away from the bunker, knowing that the less you clawed at Sam for scraps of attachment the less he felt like you were in too deep to receive it.

           Repair by repair the cabin started to feel more like yours. The bathrooms got painted a faint baby blue that reminded you of long cloudless afternoons in Sioux Falls and Sam taught you some basic plumbing to fix the water pressure in the shower. It was only slightly less gross than you thought it would be, but Sam was so excited when you put the plumber’s joint caulk on perfectly that it made up for the limescale gunk under your nails. When you worked, Sam pretty much stopped playing podcasts and books, relying instead on an ever-changing kaleidoscope of music Dean would never have let anyone play in the Impala. Some of it you were pretty sure Sam didn’t even like, almost as if he was trying to learn a new culture by jumping in headfirst.

           You kept writing in your journal like you were sending letters back home to Dean from summer camp, giving little updates on the cabin or Sam or ridiculous drama you heard at the bar. At night you and Sam would talk about what should get fixed next and sometimes if you were feeling tough you’d watch Sam look up at the ceiling, hair splayed out on the pillow around him like a halo while he told a story about him and Dean growing up or times you’d been away from them on the road. Every once in a while you’d heard Dean’s perspective of the same event and would give them like a little gift to Sam. His eyes would go soft, hanging on your every word and letting his mouth quirk up a hair at the corners. You’d laugh together, often sadly but surprisingly sometimes not, winding into the crook under his arm and playing the tapes of the memories in your head.

           More and more frequently, you’d have good dreams—or rather, non-nightmares. Dean would get hurt and survive or you’d all be on a job together. Right before you woke up he’d be just about to say something important, warn you of something serious but couldn’t spit it out fast enough. It was frustrating, but so much nicer than waking up on soaked pillows that you just put it in a letter to Dean and tried to move on with your daytime projects and nighttime bar work. Some days it felt like you were going to be okay and then the next you’d be impaled on grief so hard you couldn’t even breathe around it. And yet, always Sam to tie yourself to and slide into the next day.

           It’s cold but bright, the sunlight reflecting and magnifying itself on the snow blanketing the landscape. Salt crunches under the tires of the Impala, just barely louder than the engine and enough to be aware of through a ZZ Top tape. You’re almost on the edge of drifting asleep on the windowsill when Dean grabs your arm.

           “Hey, come on, you can’t leave me.”

           The urgency in his tone jolts you alert. “Why? What’s going on?”

           “I don’t know how much time I have left. There’s a lot I need to tell you.”

           “We haven’t even picked up Sam yet,” you answer, in the self-assuredness of dream logic. “How bad could it be?”

           “It’s me, baby. It’s really me. Dead, everything, the works. I need you to focus, I don’t know how long I can stay.”

           Some small sub-sub-conscious part of your mind jolts to attention. It feels honest, or at least the closest to honest as you had wanted to be in a while. You let yourself indulge it.

           “You, like—really? It’s really…?”

           “Yeah, it’s me. I—I don’t know how to—” and you stop him with a furtive kiss, all hunger and no grace, just wanting to feel what it was like to be against him again.

           Dean swerves a little when his eyes open, momentarily dazed. “Christ, I forgot how good that was.”

           “I don’t—how are you…?” you murmur, having a hard time not only with the information but also with the juxtaposition of your conscious and subconscious knowledge.

           “No bullshit, I’m communicating beyond the grave. Don’t tell Miss Cleo,” he answers, the smirk twisting your stomach like a wrench.

           “Are you okay? If this is what it’s like to be dead then Sam and I will be here the second I wake up, we’ll just come to you—"

           “Babe, I wish you could but it doesn’t work like that. It’s not even really supposed to work like this but Cass is pulling some strings. I only have until your subconscious realizes what’s going on and kicks me out.”

           “What? How?”

           “The separation between living and dead is a little bit thinner when you’re asleep. It’s actually pretty cool but it’s going to take a while to explain.”

           “Okay, right, got to be fast. Fuck, I miss you so much.”

           “I miss you too, kid. More than I can explain. But listen, baby, I’m so proud of you for making it this far. It’s going to be okay, I promise. Sam will take care of you, and I know you’re taking care of him the best you can. I don’t know how long I have until you wake up. I’ll keep trying again to come to you, but until the next time I get to see you, my firecracker, you’re so tough. You can do a lot worse than Sam, and I would never, ever hold it against either of you. I’ve been trying to send that—been trying to ram my head through this fucking door about a hundred times by now actually—but if it hasn’t been coming through strongly enough, I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what the fuck I’d be doing if it had been one of you—probably would’ve drunk myself to death by now to be honest—so the fact that you’re so worried about whether necking is going to raise my soul from the depths is actually sorta sweet. Love is complicated and the lines get blurred; I get it, especially now with some damned perspective. As long as I’m still going to be your guy when you get here, that’s all that matters to me. You’re it for me, kid.” He traces a light finger down the side of your cheek and it sends an ache straight into your stomach, makes him look lost for a beat as he takes you in.

           “Dean, I love you. I can't—I can’t even tell you how much I love you. I never got to say thank you for all the things you—”

           “Hey,” he says, grabbing your chin and holding you still to flick his gaze between your eyes. “I know. There’s no time. You don’t have to say that to me, I know. I always knew. I’m going to try to get to Sam too, but he’s—the angels are shocked at the shit that’s happening in his brain. Makes sense, you know, after everything he’s gone through, but I guess it makes it harder to slip through the cracks. But here: if I can’t do this again; if this is the last time I talk to you until you get back to me, I love you, and I’m going to keep loving you no matter what. The two people I love most in the world being together could never be bad to me, and I will alway—”

           And you woke up.

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 9

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

The Sight of You (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s disturbing dreams about his childhood bring him back to Las Vegas to face two of his childhood’s greatest enemies: his estranged father and his ex best friend.

AN: it’s a friends to enemies to lovers fic! Set in the episode “Memoriam” 4x07

Content Warnings: usual Criminal Minds stuff, mentions of child death, childhood trauma, descriptions of a dead body. Let me know if I missed anything!

Despite seeing Spencer around Pre-k, Y/N did not trot over to talk to him with their brightly coloured rucksack swinging vigorously and violently behind them. They walked faster instead once their parents had dropped them off. Spencer did his best to catch up to Y/N but lost them around the corner in the sea of students seeking their next class. He was meant to be one of them. Adjusting his glasses as they slipped down his nose, Spencer noted that he needed a new prescription before entering his own class and preparing to focus on a subject he was already well-versed in.

It was lunch time when Spencer finally found Y/N. They were sitting at the furthest end of the table in the canteen. But Y/N cowered away from him, his shoulders drawn up defensively.

“Are you OK, Y/N?” Spencer asked before getting to what was more significant to him: “Do you know when you will be free to play again?”

The next sentence out of Y/N’s mouth stung like a nettle. They stood up, their face contorted in their fit, and they pushed Spencer hard on the shoulders.

“Go away! I can’t look at you! You make me feel sick, you and your family!” They cried.

They went silent when Spencer was laughed at by those who heard what was said. Just grabbed their lunch and moved away, leaving Spencer spellbound in the middle of the canteen, heartbroken and with a new opening for a potential chess partner. Maybe that man they saw last week at the park would be kind enough to join him again.

But there was no replacement for Y/N, who now never said a word when they caught a glimpse of Spencer being bullied – only dithering about on the spot before fleeing the scene moments before a teacher would show up.

Spencer was hurt; that hurt warped into hatred when he was next out with his mother and father. They were at the shopping mall and had just bought Spencer his new glasses. Going down the escalator, he saw Y/N. They were smiling and skipping between their parents, a new pair of shoes shiny on their feet.

The second they spotted the Reids, Y/N ducked behind their parents. Spencer could still see their face: brow furrowed, eyes squinting, hands shaking now that nothing was holding them. Their parents didn’t seem to notice. They kept talking and walking even as Y/N stopped in time with the Reids stepping off the escalator.

Sudden footsteps running away was what dragged the public’s attention to a suddenly absent child.

“Y/N!” The parents called out as they chased after the four-year-old. They were quick past the Reids, not stopping to say ‘hello’.

Spencer kept his eyes trained after Y/N’s fleeing form, right until his mother’s face came into view. Diana looked saddened; she too was staring after the L/Ns. Turned to his father. William was composed but his eyes were turned down and watering.

For making his parents react like that to their mere presence, Spencer despised Y/N.

---> ---> ---> ---> ---> 

 The burning hatred from adolescence staled once Spencer reached adulthood. The protective nature that spawned from it for his mother remained.

Which is why, when Diana Reid casually mentioned Y/N when asked about Riley Jenkins, Spencer froze up.

“You remember Y/N?” He said stiffly.

Diana didn’t notice her son’s change in tone, “Of course, you two were opposites but you got on so well. So sad what happened to them.”

The first guess was that she was referring Y/N’s repeated attempts at running away before Reid cut contact with neighbourhood gossip at age fourteen. He didn’t bother with a second attempt to understand what his mother meant.

“I don’t care about Y/N. I want to know if you remember Riley.”

“And I told you: Riley was a boy you made up.”

“No, Mom, he was a real boy who lived in our neighbourhood, and somebody killed him. And, I don't know, I think-- I think that dad might have had something to do with it.”

“He was real?”

“Yes. And...”

“He was on that little league team, too.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The whole case was surreal - “case” being a very loose term.

When they got into his office, Spencer thought that perhaps things might simmer down a little. Unfortunately, as soon as his father spoke about their history of similarity in appearance, Spencer’s usual comfort of statistics and facts on the elderly and pets failed to conceal his abandonment issues.

William Reid was clearly affected by Spencer’s accusations, calling the idea of fitting the profile thus being Riley’s killer “absurd”. Furthermore, he was confrontational when asked for access to his files and demanded a warrant. Coupled with Lou Jenkins’ absolute certainty that William was not involved in Riley’s murder and Penelope asking him “you sure about this?” concerning invading the aforementioned files, Spencer was very close to snapping.

“I really wish people would stop asking me that.”

Then there was the envelope posted beneath his motel room door. Suspicious timing aside, there was a brand-new suspect basically handed over on a silver platter. One Gary Michaels whom Spencer couldn’t remember him but he couldn’t be sure that he didn’t know him. Uncertainty being the feeling he hated the most.

This man could fit the profile; his previous of exposing himself to a minor was a precursor to molestation. But that wasn’t what Spencer wanted to hear from the shady file slipped to direct his attention away from William.

Garcia reported back about his father’s drives, “No kiddie porn, no membership to illicit websites, no dubious emails, no chat room history.”

“What about his finances?”

Hotch joined the conversation, “We went back ten years. No questionable transactions that we can find.”

Spencer sighed while Emily decided to crack a joke: “Well, he did buy a ticket to see Celine Dion six months ago, but I think we can overlook that.”

“He’s smart. Is it possible he kept things under the table?” Spencer persisted.

“Well, of course,” Hotch answered, “But from what we can tell, Reid, he doesn’t fit the profile.”

“We can tell you other things about him, if you want to know.”

A peace offering on behalf of Emily. Clearly she had improved after her night out and subsequent hangover. Spencer gave the go-ahead and Emily listed her profile:

“He's a workaholic, he actually logs more hours than we do. He makes decent money, but he doesn't spend a lot of it. He has a modest house. He drives a hybrid. He doesn't travel much. He stays away from the casinos. Um, and according to his veterinary bills, he has a very sick cat.”

“He appears to spend most of his free time alone,” Hotch added, “He goes to the movies a lot, and he reads. And from his collection of first editions, it seems his favourite author is-”

Spencer interrupted his boss, “Isaac Asimov, I remember that one.” He pressed his lips together. They were right; William Reid did not fit the profile.

Garcia piped up once more, “He does have one other major interest. On his home computer, he's archived, like, a ka-jillion things on one common subject.”

“What?”

“You, kiddo. He's got, like, everything that's been published online. Every article you've been quoted in, pieces you've written for behavioural science journals, He even has a copy of your dissertation.”

“He's keeping tabs on you,” Rossi said, That's saying something.”

But Spencer smoothly dismissed this attempt to make excuses for his father, “Yeah, he googled me. That makes up for everything. I'm going to get some air.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

After getting said air, Spencer went to the local bar and began playing an computerised poker game. His paying attention was only to distract himself, clear his head with something he knew he could control. And thankfully, a chance interaction with a lady at the bar spawned the inspiration for a sporadic hypnosis session.

Doctor Jan Mohikian allowed them a session. Reminded of the limitations that a four-year old’s memory could provide, not including the bias he already had as a son and a profiler, Spencer lay on the couch. His feet hung over the end so that his head could be comfortable in a pillow. There was no time for self-consciousness with Rossi in the room observing. He closed his eyes and felt his hand be placed upon Doctor Mohikian’s body.

She spoke low and calmingly, “I want you to hold my wrist in your left hand. And if you should feel any fear, I want you to squeeze, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Go back to the night you were just telling me about. You're at home, in your room. You can't sleep because your parents are arguing.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 His eyes were closed still, but the couch shifted into a bed. His bed. A floor below, the faint shouting between his mother and father was heard. There was someone else there too. A child wailing, and it wasn’t him.

Suddenly his father was at his side, touching his arm, saying, “I know you’re awake. Daddy loves you; you know that?”

Spencer didn’t want to be there, and then it was the following morning.

Putting his glasses, the room fell into focus. His mother was there, she didn’t see him because she was too busy looking out the window. Her body language told him that this was not a meltdown, but what she saw was distressing. She’d been crying. As she walked away into the house, she hid her face as if she knew Spencer was watching and she wanted to hide her reaction from him.

Spencer ran to the window the second Diana had left the room.

His father was in the back garden and burning clothes. A bloody shirt, a tiny cardigan, landed on top of the pile already set alight.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and wake.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 And Spencer was shocked out of the scene, back to the doctor’s couch and gripping her wrist with an iron grip. Rossi was by his side, bringing him back to peace with his voice.

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 Derek was clearly disturbed that Spencer was very set on his father being a paedophilic murderer as much as he had been that Spencer was taking something that was said after his mother’s fit seriously. He continued however to assist with Rossi in Spencer’s investigation.

As if everything else hadn’t been hard enough, the captain took some time to agree to holding William Reid in custody. Finally, he settled for twenty-four hours. William was as resistant to the questions as he had been upon the initial reunion. All he could say was that he didn’t hurt Riley. Spencer wore him down, getting him to drop the Gary Michaels bomb plus the threat that he “didn’t want to go down that road”.

Garcia’s search of Gary Michaels’ DNA on the databases brought to light that their suspect was dead. Buried across state lines, beat over the head with a pipe or bat, and the body was discovered in 2001.

“Maybe it wasn’t Riley’s blood on the clothes he was burning.” Derek was about to hang up when Garcia began to speak again, a new discovery ready for her team.

“Also, Todd found something in your father’s finances. There was a standing order for a therapist, specifically a child therapist from 1985 to 1995. I thought it was for Spencer, but William left when you were twelve, and these sessions continue irregularly after he left you!”

“Who was the patient?”

“One Y/N L/N. Local to North Vegas, born 1980 to Shelly and Finley L/N.”

Both Rossi and Derek looked away from the phone to Spencer and he knew. He knew he’d have to face another villain from the past – like a knight in one of Y/N’s stories.

“Still alive?”

“Yep, already pulling up an address. There’s a lot of short leases attached to this name. Lucky for you, they keep going back to live with their parents.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure that he could handle two bitter reunions in one day.

“We’ll send off the fingerprint while we visit Y/N. They could have been a potential victim of Michaels before he died. They might know something.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It was a normal home in a normal neighbourhood. Spencer had never visited Y/N’s house. Their play-dates were always at the park.

“Hello, Mr L/N,” held up their badges, “I’m Agent Derek Morgan, this is Agent David Rossi and Doctor Spencer Reid. May we come in and ask you some questions?”

“Sure. My wife is uh out at work at the moment,” Finley opened the door wider and stepped aside for the trio to enter, “I’m the house husband as it were.”

Looking about the kitchen, Spencer spied several photos of an adult Y/N but very few of them as a toddler and even less as a teenager.

“You have a child, Mr L/N?” Rossi asked.

“All grown up now, Y/N,” Finley smiled with a nod. Then he squinted at Spencer, “You’re not related to William Reid by chance, are you?”

Masking his bitterness, Spencer said shortly, “He’s my father.”

Finley seemed in awe at the prospect, so Derek redirected the conversation back to the matter at hand, “What was Y/N like as a child?”

Nodding still, like a bobble head, Finley looked weary at the notion, “Troubled. They were very young when they withdrew into themselves. Used to run away from home a lot. I don’t know what happened, but Y/N never told us.” He then jumped to protect his child’s reputation at present, “They’re doing better now, went to therapy and they’re doing very well for themselves.”

“I’m glad to hear.” Rossi replied.

Finley continued his defence of Y/N, “They’re a published author, they write fantasy things for kids and young adults. We’re very proud of them.”

“Did Y/N know Riley Jenkins when they were a child?”

“Riley Jenkins, that’s Lou’s kid who died, right?” Finley sought confirmation and, when he had it, he spoke, “Not personally. I think they might have played at the park once or twice. Before he died, Y/N would play with anyone. But you… you know that.” And Finley gestured to Spencer, much to his disgust.

“Is Y/N in the area?” Spencer asked briskly.

“Well, they’re due for a visit in a few hours. They went on holiday.”

“They still live with you?”

“A month ago, they got a new flat in the city. But they’ve got their own room here, for whenever they need it.”

“May we see it?”

The wallpaper was barely visible beneath exam revision notes, posters of Fresh sheets on the bed and the clear space on the floor were the only tidy things about the place. It was a haven of organised clutter.

A chess set caught Spencer’s eye. It sat upon the windowsill, recently dusted. The pieces were not that of a classic set; each was painted prettily but with enough error to indicate it was a personal touch.

“You and Y/N were close then?” Derek was holding up a photo album. Upon inspection, the photograph the page was open on was of Spencer and Y/N dressed up for Halloween as Doctor Frankenstein and the Monster respectively – accurate to the book of course.

“Yeah, ‘were’,” Spencer turned back to the chess set. He didn’t bother to ask when his friends had figured out he knew Y/N.

Rossi decided to further test the waters, “You think that Y/N could have killed Riley?”

“Of course not. A four-year-old couldn’t kidnap, tie up, rape, and kill a boy their own age. No violent history that indicates they would ever do something like this. Do I think that Y/N knows something about what happened and my father is trying to keep them quiet? Yes.”

Rossi moved beside Spencer, picking up the knight. Except it wasn’t a knight. It was a wizard of some kind in purple robes.

“We’ll stay up here for a bit then go down once Y/N’s inside and settled,” He gestured with the knight to the window. Spencer blanched as he spied a cab at the end of the driveway. The trunk was open and someone was retrieving a suitcase from within.

Y/N appeared around the corner, waving off the cab and turning to the house. Mr L/N appeared on the drive and they met in the middle for a hug. Over Mr L/N’s shoulder, Spencer could see that Y/N had grown into their chubby childhood features. They looked genuinely happy.

He would have to go through with it, but he didn’t have to like it. And he couldn’t go hide in the bathroom like with his father.

The trio plodded down the stairs when the sound of the front door closing was replaced with a joyous gathering in the kitchen. It all changed when Y/N went to take off their jacket and caught sight of the three FBI agents standing in the doorway. Taking out his badge, Rossi led the way.

“Hello, Y/N, I’m Agent David Rossi, this is Agent Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid. We’re looking into the death of Riley Jenkins, and we were hoping to ask you some questions.”

To the naked eye, very little changed about Y/N’s appearance. To the three profilers, there was a visceral reaction: Y/N’s right hand started trembling, the hard swallow, the dropping of their gaze from Spencer to the floor.

“OK,” They said, a great deal quieter than they had been with their father.

Rossi sat next to Y/N at the dinner table. Derek was beside Rossi; Spencer stayed standing. Mr L/N stayed in the kitchen, at Y/N’s request.

“Can you tell us what you remember about Riley?” Rossi began.

“Not very much, I don’t really remember much about school.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Spencer blurted, “Well, I do.”

Derek glanced back at him with a look that just screamed “shut the hell up”. It seemed to cut down Y/N’s resolve, their jaw quivering.

“Sorry, can you give me a moment?” They stood up quick, the chair legs scraping loudly against the floor as they walked just as fast to the kitchen. Through the open door, Rossi, Derek, and Spencer watched Y/N grab a glass from the open dishwasher. The water from the tap hit the bottom of the glass harsh, crashing out like a wave of the ocean hitting a cliff. Y/N didn’t seem to care. Their hand dripped water onto the surface as they chugged back some of the drink before returning to the table with a topped-up glass.

“Are you alright?” Rossi inquired, leaning closer to Y/N.

They answered wearily, “Fine, just feeling woozy.”

“You’re a writer?”

“Yeah, you’re a writer too. My mom reads your stuff before bed.”

“Bit of an odd nightcap,” Rossi said with a little chuckle.

Y/N shared that smile for the briefest of moments, replying “You’re telling me.”

From their pocket, they pulled out some painkillers, popping them back with a slug of water then speaking again. “I remember Riley was smaller than me. Still figuring out coordination, but he liked to play chase. I know he was killed; I didn’t find out how until I looked into it last year.”

“Why did you look into it?” Rossi gently probed.

Y/N rubbed two fingers back and forth across their head as they spoke, “I was back here, I felt sick so I went for a walk in the park, and I just remembered him tripping over while trying to tag me. No one ever told me what happened, just that he had to go away. I wanted to know what happened to him.”

“Are you sick often?” Derek asked suddenly, his voice soft to match Rossi. Spencer grimaced at the treatment Y/N was receiving but said nothing.

“Headaches and stomach aches mostly.”

“You get them whenever you come home?”

“I do. Figured I was allergic to something but never figured out what.”

That would have to be a very quick response, like a dog allergy. And coincidental, seeing as the symptoms didn’t start until they saw Spencer.

“Y/N?” called their father, “Can you come here a moment please?”

“May I?”

“Of course,” said Derek and Y/N was out of the room. Derek pivoted in his chair to include Spencer in his theory, “I think they know something, but they don’t know they know it. I think they repressed this memory like you did, Spencer. We should take him to the therapist, see if we can jog his memory.”

“You can’t be serious,” Spencer covered his face with his hands, dragging them down with irritation.

Derek was persistent though, “Spencer, like it or not, Y/N’s linked to this investigation. Put aside your differences for a moment, please.”

Spencer all but squawked, “Put aside my differences?”

“You have brought a lot of bias to this case. Let us at least pursue this lead.”

“Sorry,” Y/N interrupted Spencer’s retort, sitting back at the table, “He needed someone to get unhook the loft door. Mom usually does it.”

“That’s alright.” Rossi waved a hand dismissively. Once Y/N accepted that, he moved in with Derek’s suggestion, “You know, some people have strong physical reactions to memories, trauma. Maybe you’re not getting sick. You’re rejecting something.”

“Rejecting?” repeated Y/N. There was no doubt in their voice, more cautious curiosity.

Derek nodded, “A memory, repressing it, and your body has linked the physical responses to your home. We think it has something to do with this case, and we’d like to see if we can retrieve any memories you might have. Would you be alright to come with us?”

“Yeah,” said Y/N, though they didn’t sound too certain, “Yeah sure.”

The resigned, too tired look on their face, and Spencer felt a tug in his chest. A longing to see Y/N smile like they had when they first entered the house. He’d rather hate someone who was happy than someone who suffered the same as him.

Leaving the house, Spencer took a deep breath of fresh air.

“Spencer?”

He ignored Y/N’s voice for a moment, but he couldn’t disregard Y/N standing in front of him and speaking again, “Spencer, can we talk please?”

“I’m busy,” He said, already walking off as he pretended to call someone, “Hey Garcia.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 “Hold onto my hand, use it as an anchor, and squeeze when you feel fear.” Doctor Mohikian accepted Y/N’s hand on her wrist and their silence nod as they lay back on the same couch Spencer had been just hours before.

“I want you to think back to your childhood, back to when you were five. You’re at the park, your parents are on a bench watching nearby to keep you safe. What do you see?”

“Spencer Reid.”

Derek and Rossi glanced at Spencer, who did not react. They kept quiet so that Y/N could immerse themselves in the hypnosis.

“What’s he doing?” Doctor Mohikian continued.

“Teaching me chess.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Sat on opposite sides of the table, Spencer and Y/N’s eyes were glued to the chess pieces that were neatly organised between them. Spencer was thinking strategy. He could not say the same for his companion Y/N. They reached a hand out and hovered over the pieces before finally selecting their last knight.

Their tongue clicked as Y/N trotted the piece on the spot.

“What’s this one again?”

“The knight,” Spencer recited, “It moves two spaces up, down, left or right, and another step perpendicular to the first direction.”

“Brave creatures riding into battle,” Y/N narrated before continuing their clip-clopping to its new position, “Pawns in the game of war.”

Spencer didn’t understand how they were coming up with this whilst playing. Well, actually, he did. Because Y/N was clearly not playing to win. They were playing for the best possible story.

“Where do you think this story will end?” Y/N asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying,” said Y/N, pushing back the sleeves of their white cardigan, “Come on, you can tell me, with your magic powers.”

“It’s not magic. It’s logic.”

“That’s magic to me,”

Narrowing his eyes, Spencer decided that he should give his friend the information they sought: “I see checkmate in fifteen moves.”

“See? Magic! The gift of sight!” crowed Y/N, clapping their hands together. The cardigan sleeves fell back in place as they did so. Spencer felt his cheeks heat up; he dropped his head so he could smile in privacy while Y/N began to decide their next move.

“How’s your mommy today?”

Shrugging, Spencer said, “Better than normal. But that means a bad day is around the corner.”

Y/N nodded solemnly. “Do you want another ice cream? I got more birthday money.”

“No thank you.” Spencer moved the piece but was immediately intercepted by Y/N, “You’re getting better.”

“Fank you.”

“You’ll have to wait longer to beat me though.” And he snatched Y/N’s knight away, just as planned and much to Y/N’s dismay.

A new voice from their left spoke, “Hey you’re pretty good.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 Y/N’s grip tightened on Doctor Mohikian’s wrist, “Someone’s with us.”

“Who do you see?” Doctor Mohikian asked patiently.

“A man. He’s asking us if he can watch us play, listen to the story.”

“Do you want him to stay?”

“No,” Y/N flinched, “But Spencer keeps talking to him. The man won’t go away.”

“It’s OK, it’s OK, you’re safe, Y/N.”

Y/N flinched again, this time letting out a whimper, “He’s on the floor.”

“Spencer is?”

“No, the man.”

“What’s he doing on the floor?”

“He’s,” Y/N began panting, their face tensing and body jerking, “I can’t get to him. There’s glass in the way and the ground is shaking.”

“Y/N.”

“I can’t look, I’ll be sick! Whenever I see them, sick.”

“OK, you’re going to wake up in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!”

Their eyes snapped open with the click of the fingers and Y/N leapt out of Doctor Mohikian’s couch. Their head aimed over the bin by the door and they retched. Nothing came up but their stomach continued to squeeze up

Spencer fidgeted in his seat, trying his best not to look at Y/N. The choice words of the session, three in particular, wrapped around his head.

“Floor”.

Y/N had seen Gary Michaels inside, somewhere that wasn’t the park.

“Glass”.

A window, Y/N was watching what Gary Michaels was doing.

“Sick”.

“Go away! I can’t look at you! You make me feel sick, you and your family!”

“Them”.

It wasn’t just Michaels in the room alone. They had been a witness to his murder.

Derek’s movement to help Y/N took Spencer out of his analysis. Sweaty, Y/N was led back to the couch, the bin between their legs, head lolling forward. Spencer tried to move beside them for questioning, but Y/N winced and began heaving again. He felt that ache in his chest again. He was causing this and nothing he could do would change that. Not until they both knew what happened to Riley and Y/N got help through it.

“What did you see, Y/N?” Derek asked as he replaced Spencer’s spot beside them.

With watering eyes, Y/N looked at Spencer, “The man we played with, he was on the floor. His head – thank you.” They accepted the water from Doctor Mohikian, gulping some back, “It was smashed in.”

The three agents left the room, Doctor Mohikian following after Y/N left to get some air.

“It’s logical to assume that Y/N tied that sickness, that repulsion because of what they thought they saw your mother be involved with, to you and your family,” Doctor Mohikian evaluated.

Interrupting again, Spencer stammered his way through his analysis, “That’s why they avoided me. They associated me with being ill. It’s probably also why they ran away so much; they had to get away from this horrible feeling they had associated with their home.”

Doctor Mohikian shook her head, “We won’t be able to use this in court, I told you when we started.”

Derek’s phone started to ring. As he answered, Spencer somehow managed to slip away for long enough to find Y/N. They were leaning against the ramp’s railing in front of the practice, their body lifting and slumping with each deep breath they took. Against his better judgement, he moved toward them.

“Y/N? Can I have your number?”

The breathing slowed again.

“I need it to call you with an update on the situation as soon as we get one.”

Without looking up, Y/N pulled out their phone and handed it over to Spencer. He punched his number in a new contact, using this time to gather the courage to maybe say something else. The hurt and pain went beyond him now. Y/N was suffering and had been much longer than he had.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Spencer said quietly, hoping that his didn’t add to the illness, “I hope you feel better soon.”

Their head still down, Y/N croaked, “You too, Spencer.”

“Spencer, get over here! We got a match on a print on Michaels’ body!”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“What makes you think Gary Michaels killed your boy?”

“He admitted it,” Lou Jenkins said, as monotonous as he had been for the last fifteen minutes of the interrogation.

Derek’s quickfire was on Jenkins instantly, “You beat a guy with a baseball bat, he's going to admit to a lot of things. How do you know he was the right guy?”

“I know. He approached another kid in the neighbourhood.”

“And how do you know that?

“I was told by a concerned party.”

“Who? Another parent?”

Jenkins leant back in his chair, “That's all I'm going to say on the subject.”

“Who was it?” Spencer suddenly spoke up.

Caught off guard at his interjection, Jenkins awkwardly parroted himself, “I told you that's all I'm going to say on the sub—"

Reid slammed his hands on the table, getting right up in Lou’s face, “Who was it?”

The door opened, Detective Hyde appeared, “Agent Reid?”

“Do not interfere with this interrogation, detective,” shouted Spencer, “This is not your case anymore!”

Once again, he was cut off. This time, by the arrival of his own mother, Diana, and her admission of guilt: “Spencer, it was me”.

  ---> ---> ---> ---> ---> 

  Of all the things this case had brought him, Spencer least expected to be sitting in a room with his mother and father together for the first time in years. To have Diana explain to him how she was involved in a child’s murder was also up there with the unthinkable.

But he stayed quiet and listened to her confession.

The reveal that she had seen Gary Michaels playing chess with him and Y/N, that she and got a feeling that something was wrong before anything had even happened, opened the story. Lou Jenkins’ involvement was next on the menu. Two days after the chess game, he drove Diana to Michaels’ house, disclosed his history of child abuse, and demanded she leave while he went into the house.

Upon reaching the point where she entered the house, Diana struggled with her words. William reached over and took her hand.

She described seeing Lou with the bat, standing over the body, slipping in the pool of blood, finding Y/N standing in the window and their face, their little face as innocent as the white cardigan that covered their shoulders and absorbed the blood from Diana’s hands as she shook their shoulders.

“And the rest... It's all dark after that.”

William continued for her. Diana came home and brought Y/N with her. Eventually he came to understand what had happened and decided that nobody could ever know.

“You were burning her bloody clothes,” Spencer concluded.

His father nodded, “But the knowing, you can't burn that away. It changes everything.”

“You paid for Y/N to go to therapy.”

William didn’t seem surprised that Spencer knew this, going straight into explaining: “They went into a dissociative fugue state after seeing what Lou had done. When Diana brought them home, they were just stiff. I asked them for their home number, to call their parents, but they started screaming and throwing up. We had to take them to the police station.” He mopped his brow with a handkerchief, “They needed help, but their parents couldn’t afford it. And they didn’t know what had happened. I couldn’t drag another person into this, Spencer.”

“Is this why you left?”

“I tried to keep us together, Spencer. I swear to you, but the weight of that knowledge, it was too much.”

“You could have come back. Could have started over.”

“I didn't know how to take care of you anymore. When I lost that confidence, there was no going back. What's done is done.”

“At least now you know the truth,” Diana made an effort to smile at her son

Choking on his words and the overwhelming remorse he felt, Spencer refused to look at his parents any longer, “I was wrong about everything. I'm sorry.”

And William said something that Spencer had been waiting for, for a long time, “I am, too, Spencer.”

  ---> ---> ---> ---> ---> 

  All of this was repeated when Spencer walked with Y/N through their old park the following day. Filling the final gaps in the memory would hopefully bring some respite to them both. Or at least maybe something to start the recovery process, easing Y/N’s sickness and Spencer’s pain.

“I’m sorry for my behaviour during this case,” Spencer sniffed, “When you said we made you sick, back when we were four, I thought you had seen my mom during one of her episodes and thought she was a freak, like everyone else.”

That stopped Y/N in their tracks, their hands coming up to cover their mouth, their eyes misty, “Oh Spencer, I’m sorry too, I’m so, so sorry I caused you so much pain.”

Spencer’s hands rushed up as if to create belated damage control, “It’s ok! I hurt you too. I made you sick.”

“That wasn’t your fault though.”

“It wasn’t yours either. We were kids.”

Almost pedantic, stropping, like a child again, Y/N moaned, “It’s all been such a waste. We could have been friends all this time!”

“We can be friends now,” Spencer pushed his hands down into his pockets to stop them flailing about anymore. His sentence was phrased more like a question.

One that Y/N gladly answered, “I would like really that.”

Sitting in the reply for a moment, Spencer followed up on his concerns, “How are you feeling? I mean, are you feeling sick again?”

“A bit, but I can handle it.”

Spencer could not see any changes in their behaviour from the day before. So obviously they were lying about that. But he didn’t protest. The lie meant Y/N wanted to stay with him, which was good - Spencer wanted that too.

They kept walking, only in silence for half a minute before Spencer broke it again, “I read your books last night.”

“Yeah?”

“‘The Siege of the Lost Faiths’ in Rogue’s Mask, that was our first game of chess.”

“It had by far the best narrative,” Y/N dragged their shoe a little on the grass before coming to a stop, “Do you still play?”

“All the time.”

They nodded over to where the old chess tables still stood, “Fancy a game before you go?”

Spencer grinned, “Just promise that this is the only setting where we’ll be on conflicting sides from now on.”

“Promise.”

Brushing the debris from the table, they both took their places opposite each other. From Y/N’s bag was revealed a box, spilling their painted chess pieces across the board. Remembering how they had stood in Y/N’s room, Spencer helped to set up the match. They took their seats opposite one another. Y/N was the green side, Spencer the purple.

Spencer moved first. After a second’s deliberation, Y/n moved their pawn.

“Isn’t there a story with this one?” Spencer said, an implicated teasing in his tone despite his shyness.

With an equally bashful eye roll, Y/N started their new story, “First begins the battle with the royals on both sides sending intrepid messengers to meet and pass along their deeds.”

Spencer took Y/N’s pawn. As he lifted their piece away, he spoke quietly, “One not as intrepid as the other.”

A gasp dropped from Y/N’s smile. He had never joined in the narrative telling before, always too taken up in the match to invest in whatever story they spun. 

“He’s not a coward,” They said, still smiling, much to Spencer’s delight, “Prisoner’s dilemma, he just couldn’t trust the other with his life.”

“Did they know each other before this battle?”

“Yes,” Y/N moved a knight across, stealing Spencer’s pawn, “They were brothers who once shared a crib and now they share a grave.”

Throughout the game, Y/N continued the story with Spencer asking questions just to hear them talk more. The maturity of the stories had grown just as Y/N’s voice had. They knuckled their eyes a few times, but they didn’t complain about the headache.

“I know what endings you like,” Spencer moved his rook, “Checkmate in five.”

Y/N didn’t seem to mind that little dig, “This’ll have to be a short story instead then.”

Spencer’s next sentence got away from him, trailing off the closer he got to the end of it, “You could write an anthology series, if we see each other again and play more games.”

Where Spencer’s voice disappeared, Y/N’s returned with invigoration, “That’s not a half bad idea, Spencer.”

The checkmate never came. Y/N diverted the ending into a draw.

“A peace treaty has been forged by the survivors, because too many lives have been lost to justify this violence anymore. If only they realised sooner that no blood had to be shed for peace to rule the lands.” And they smiled at Spencer, clearly chuffed as they leaned back in their chair, “Bit of an upgrade from the horse noises, I’ll say.”

Spencer rotated the purple knight – the illusionist – between his thumb and forefinger, “I liked the horse noises.”

“You should have said during the match! I’d recreate them, for you.”

One by one, the pieces were placed back into their box until the last piece remained in Spencer’s palm: the knight or Soren the Illusionist, distractions and deceptions but he loved the tricks that delighted most of all. Just like Spencer with his magic tricks but a little to the left. The character was always one of Y/N’s favourites. Some solace away from the pain of thinking of who he was based on.

Y/N pushed Spencer’s hand away, closes his fist around it, “Keep him. He was made with you in mind anyway.”

The information sank in and Spencer’s nose wrinkled with the little smile on his face as he cupped the little Illusionist, “I’m Soren?”

Nodding, Y/N confirmed, “You’re Soren.”

“But what about your set though?”

“I can always make and paint another knight,” and Y/N tilted the piece upside down in Spencer’s hand, revealing the signature on the underside, “You and him are the originals, it’s only fair you stay together.”

In a moment of pure instinct and nostalgia, Spencer clicked his tongue as he twisted Soren in time with the noise. Y/N let out a burst of laughter that dragged the air out of Spencer’s chest.

“Hey, do you wanna get dinner tonight?” He said, running out of breath very quickly as a result.

It had a similar effect on Y/N, “I thought you – don’t you have to get back to Virginia?”

“I have time for dinner. For you.”

  ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 The bookstore was packed but the breath of the patrons was held as one. All eyes were watching the mini stage where a crouching figure lifted their head up slowly. A jump as the tension broke with the figure leaping up to their feet with a bang.

Y/N pushed up the brim of their cap. Snatching a deep green hoodie from the purple trunk – silver constellations painted on the sides – they swung it over their back before picking up the page where they had left off.

“Nasima looked up at Mason and said, ‘Well that was just unnecessary.’”

A burst of laughter shot through the pre-teens in the front row, spreading to the adolescents sitting further back who had grown up with the author’s other works, finally reaching the adults at the back where Spencer was fiddling with his cane. He adjusted the sleeve of his costume absentmindedly. He was just like everyone else in the room: captivated by how Y/N was so immersed in their reading.

They had just mimed kicking down a door, plus sound effects from their mouth. Swapping back and forth between the two conflicting characters arguing with one another, changing between the hoodie and the cap with every other line of dialogue and taking both off for the role of the narrator, it was certainly a workout.

An exaggerated breath was drawn into Y/N’s lungs, flopping over in a melodramatic state, which caused another laugh in the audience.

Spencer’s nose scrunched up as he grinned. He knew this was part of the scene; he’d seen Y/N rehearse this story in their sitting room. It was so much better to share this with an audience, for their reactions to fuel Y/N’s energy.

Y/N finished the short story A Battle of Bent Truths with a flourish, leaving the rest of the anthology for their audience to read in their own time. The kids were up on their feet first. Some of them were jumping up and down as they applauded with the rest of the shop. Y/N gave a big grin as they bowed, sweeping their cap off for extra drama.

There was a book signing and a photographer that followed, and Spencer waited patiently at the end of the queue, thankful that the store allowed him to bring a chair along with him. He was happy to entertain his godson and friends with a few tricks to pass the time.

“Another one please!” Henry jumped up and down when Spencer revealed his card.

A minor commotion arose by the photographer’s backdrop. There was a teenager was crying; she was clutching her copy of Untold Tales of Human Nature. Y/N was holding their shoulders, rubbing gently and speaking softly. Only half paying attention to his next trick, Spencer kept an eye on Y/N as they hugged the teenager, looking near tears themselves.

“Spencer?” J.J tapped him on the shoulder and Spencer realised that Henry was looking a little mad to have lost his godfather’s attention so easily.

“Sorry, Henry, can you pick another card please?”

When they reached the front of the queue, JJ went up first and took Henry and his pals up to see Y/N. They instantly recognised JJ and welcomed her with a tight hug. Henry was delighted to see his favourite babysitter and show them off to his school friends, boasting that they had read to him before today.

“They read me bits for bedtime, Mommy!”

“I know!” JJ tickled his cheek, “I read them to you too.”

“Who do you like better?”

“Mommy,”

Y/N gasped, dropping to their knees which made Spencer wince, “Henry, you wound me!”

Rossi approach next, knowing that once Spencer got to Y/N, they would not be left alone.

“You really know how to captivate an audience,” He kissed them on both cheeks, “Though don’t take offence if I don’t use the same tricks at my readings.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it! Thank you for coming.”

Y/N then caught Spencer’s eye and began meandering over to him with a smile they were desperately trying to stifle. Spencer rose from his chair, meeting Y/N in the middle.

“Hi, Spencer.”

With his free arm, Spencer flaunted his cloak, “Who is Spencer? I’m Soren the Illusionist!”

Giggles from his godson, his godson’s gang, his co-workers and friends, they almost caused Y/N to lose their composure. They held on just long enough to continue the banter.

“Oh, forgive me, you look so much like my boyfriend.”

“Hmmm, he must be very handsome,”

And Y/N burst into peals of laughter, waving their hands about, “OK, stop, stop, stop, I can’t.”

“Hey!” Spencer pretended to take offence, pouting as Y/N brought him into a hug.

“Don’t worry,” They kissed his cheek between giggles, “You are so very handsome.”

“To think you were once sick at the sight of me.”

[ahlis-xiv]

journal 50.4

G’raha sat alone, semi-hunched over a piece of parchment as he worked. Although he did not show it, the drafting he ambitiously began was nothing short of a place between fascinating and downright tediousness. The solution to tempering that nestled within his mind and finding a proper way to convey it into some sort of physicality that others could understand took time and a level of focus that brought him back to his Studium days.

He did not mind the effort, really, yet part of him couldn’t help but feel he could be applying himself to something else...namely figuring out why his dear friend decided to depart in such a hurry without so much as a word.

G’raha sighed, and scratched out part of the formulae he attempted to use as a proper proof. It wasn’t correct or, rather, not good enough, and he knew it: it almost felt like he had to somehow invent a whole new notation and he was second guessing every attempt. That, he knew, was as strong a sign as any that he needed a break.

Abandoning his work for the more welcoming sight above Mor Dhona proper, he took to his usual perch and leaned over the ledge to watch the activity below. Ever since he arrived there—since waking up, really—G’raha found the habit of people-watching a welcome one when it came to clearing his head. It had also been an old habit as well from his time as the Exarch. It was difficult at times to not be reminded of it when he went there to be alone--not that it troubled him, but rather his thoughts inevitably wandered to those he had to let go. To old friends and, naturally, to her.

What would Lyna think, he wondered. Of everything? Despite assurances, both given and told to own self, he knew it was a question not quite answerable. He was unfettered, free—free to live the life he wished. A second chance. Yet something gnawed away at his heart that only grew in the wake of what occurred in Ala Mhigo. And the Warrior of Light was nowhere in sight.

He didn’t wish to admit it, but that this point most of all prickled his thoughts. She had been wounded in the confrontation: not severely but enough to warrant considerable healing, namely for her arms. She berated herself for not properly handling the situation, that it was foolish to not deal with Fandaniel and his summoning there and then somehow. When the dust settled with wounds seen to and mended, she slipped away and out of his reach.

G’raha’s hands clasped together in front of him, fretting as his anxiety swelled. Ahlis said many things in the aftermath at the menagerie; much of which he knew was said in a fury he rarely witnessed. He also knew he ought to not dwell on it, as it was not directed towards him—but it felt personal, watching the anger and the walls that suddenly erected around her, forbidding his approach. Surely she knew, she must’ve known that he cared—that they all cared? G’raha understood what it meant to seek solace, to lick one’s wounds after a poor bout in battle, yet to shut him out? Why?

He huffed a frustrated growl, and pouted to himself. This is not about you, G’raha, his more sensible self spoke in his mind. It did little to help when he knew naught what to do with his...feelings, with no soul to utter them to. For the moment, all he had in certainty, was himself.

Looking above to the darkening sky, stars were beginning to sparkle in the deep blue, the gloom weak and unable to hinder their shine. He hoped that wherever Ahlis was, and however she felt, that her safety was sure and her healing swift.

---

Ahlis suddenly grasped the pillow within her bare arms as a sneeze escaped her nose and immediately regretted it.

“Bless you, dearest,” Aymeric spoke above her, his hands gently working her back’s aches and pains into a soothing massage.

“Augh, no,” she said, voice muffled by soft cotton where she shoved her face into it. The great debate of whether she should lift her head up or not kept her in place, lest she reveal a potentially not-so-graceful mess. “I think I ruined it.”

Wordlessly and only with a soft chuckle of amusement Aymeric rose to retrieve a handkerchief as if reading her mind in her current discomfort. When he returned Ahlis was already sitting up, the pillow still pressed to her face. He did not know how to assure her that there were far worse things that could ruin one’s bedding, but seeing the flushed look upon her face while she cleaned herself as discretely as possible encouraged him to say nothing.

“Are you feeling better?” Aymeric asked, once she seemed satisfied to show herself, the pillow and handkerchief no longer covering her face.

“Yes, thank you,” Ahlis spoke, relief entering her voice. “I am sorry, about this, though.” Her hands still held onto the pillow until he reached for it himself, lightly tossing it aside and back onto the bed.

“It is of no consequence. My home is yours, including the aforementioned pillow.”

That made Ahlis laugh, as he hoped it would, and Aymeric took this moment to join her again, sitting side by side upon the edge of the bed. It was useless however to ignore the wrappings around both her palms and forearms, both of which had been kept out of sight when lying on her stomach. Catching his glancing eyes, Ahlis took that moment to adjust her bandages.

“The pain is mostly gone. Now it’s just itching,” she spoke, more annoyed than in any sort of true discomfort. “New skin takes some getting used to and breaking in, imagine that.”

“May I see it?” Aymeric asked after a moment’s pause, his voice careful in its near-whisper like intensity.

For a second, she hesitated. Unraveling them didn’t hurt much anymore, so when she did reveal the newly healed burns that rested beneath she didn’t hold back in extending her arm in front of him. If only her heart that thumped heavily in her chest agreed! Nerves, however troublesome they proved to be, would do little in assuaging his concern.

“There you are,” Ahlis said with an exuberance she hoped sounded sure and confident. “It’s not so terrible now, aye?”

It was not her intent to fool him, rather, it was better than the ire she felt deep within at how it happened, and better still than to appear caught off-guard or foolish to have been struck at all by such an injury. It had been a mistake, one that could’ve gone even more horribly wrong in an instant if not for…

“Oh, Ahlis...”

Her thoughts stopped, everything stopped. She was helpless as she watched the shock that touched his eyes turn to despair, to pain that flowed into the tenderness that came with his touch as he cradled her wrist to his cheek. There was a knot of scarred tissue just below where his lips met her skin; the first kiss was given there, then another just above it towards her palm.

Such sensations, intensified against her freshly healed wounds, rendered her voice frozen within her throat. It was almost too much; she released a heavy, shaky breath that gave him pause, and Aymeric turned to look upon her so intensely, so painfully, she dared think she might cry herself.

“It’s fine,” she found herself saying, finally, unsure if it truly was after all.

---

Later, long after they had gone to bed, she would wake to see the stars out in the beyond just outside the window, the silhouette of spires cutting across the dark. A rare, clear night in the city. Gripped by the sight, she stole herself away to find a place to write...

Evenings have proven to be the best, and only time, to write clear-headed these days. As if I do not need sleep.

The itching has finally subsided enough to carry on without thinking about it and now I can finally sit for half a bell to write while at the same time not wishing to scratch my skin off. I’ve had lacerations, all manners of bruising and concussive injuries. I’ve even been shot at! But note to self: never get fucking burned like that again.

I’m going to kill that bastard with his own medicine, and I will enjoy it

[there is a drawing here of a figure in a robe with a sword skewering it all the way through, who is also on fire]

The healing has progressed as it will, and I trust Krile and Alphinaud’s hands more than any other—although granted my sourness over it all could have been a little less scathing, I guess.

But what can I say, a lot of bullshite has been happening these days. I’m getting a mite bit enraged that these Ascian arseholes aren’t leaving me alone, and yet I am not entirely surprised. It’s not over until it is over.

gods when will that be never ah ha ha ha

In the meantime I have made good on my own promises to make my own self comfortable as best I can, heal as best I am able, and spending what time I can in Ishgard. The others are probably wondering when I’ll return to the Stones but until G’raha outlines our approach on implementing proper protocol on the tempering solution I honestly don’t want to hear about anything else. Alisaie should be helping, I am sure, as is Alphinaud too I think. It’ll be fine! And fast too.

I mean I would help more too but I don’t have a crazy as all hells academic background as they do seven hells I’d love me a curriculum found in the Studium within those stupid halls and their even stupider “zero involvement” stance on bloody everything

share your goddamn science you twits

I am far more tired than I thought. But! I am also finally able to think about the impending reconnaissance we’re bound to have soon once Thancred and Urianger return.

if something happens with them I swear to ever loving shite I am going to boot them back to the First with my fist

Without my Stupid! Arms! Annoying me!

OH is that little

[the writing stops here with an ink blot, as if the pen was dropped and left there, the smeared and distinct shape of a cat’s paw crossing part of the page]

[secretshinigami]

Late Night Show

Title: Late Night Show Author: @complicatedmerary For: @fogspecs Pairings/Characters: Misa/Takada tease, Kiyomi Takada, Misa Amane, Hitoshi Demegawa (cameo), Light Yagami (mentioned only) Rating/Warnings: Teen and Up, alcohol mention, Demegawa being a gross boss, tabloid gossip nonsense, mean girl behavior, mild language, mild violence Prompt: Misa and Takada have romantic tension between them. Author’s notes: Misa and Takada, you say? Don’t mind if I do! As I was drafting ideas for the offered prompts, it occurred to me that the only time Misa and Takada met in canon was when Misa had no memories of being Kira. If we are being honest, that was a missed opportunity. Then, I thought, what if Misa has her memories intact, but Takada is not Kira’s spokeswoman? How will their dynamic change? Hope you enjoy!

______________________________________

“I’m telling you, Miss Takada, with your great assets and even greater personality, you will have my audience eating at the palm of our hands. My show has been craving a female perspective on scandalous gossip, you have no idea how much hate mail I receive for being unfair to these airheaded celebrities. If we get this right, no one will ever accuse me of having no substance, we are respectable journalists, dammit!”

Kiyomi Takada had barely started her first day of work and she already regretted every second of it. Truth be told, it was not a regular job, it was a weird hybrid of an internship that she had to fight to be eligible for credit and an arduous job that guaranteed humiliating tasks and low pay. The real reward is experience, she kept telling herself over and over as she reluctantly took this opportunity after being rejected by reputable news network stations. She had the nagging suspicion that Hitoshi Demegawa only chose her based on her looks rather than her impeccable academic record, but at this point it was too late to challenge this. No, she had to swallow her pride if she wanted to prove herself to be worthy of broadcasting intellectual journalism in the next few years.

“Hey, hey, what’s with the gloomy face?” Demegawa snapped his fingers close to Takada’s nose, startling her. “Celebrity gossip is supposed to be fun! Well, unless I report the usual actor breakdown, but that’s just show business, no one is truly getting hurt anyway.” He chuckled, holding himself by his belly.

Takada barely flinched.

“Come on, I’m just joking, don’t be so serious. We have something juicy coming up in thirty minutes and I need you to familiarize yourself with the news that has happened this morning.” Demegawa stopped speaking, gave Takada a nefarious grin, then patted her cheek as if she were a kid. “How about smiling for once? You will fit right in when people don’t see you as an ice queen.” He turned to the side and snapped his fingers repeatedly. “Everyone should be getting their makeup done, don’t you dare step out if your face is a mess!”

She took note of scrubbing her cheek raw until there was no trace of his dirty hand.

~~~

Takada looked over her script as her makeup artist fluffed some blush across her cheekbones. She wasn’t the type to focus on such frivolous things, but if she had to play the role of the tabloid host darling, she will gladly do so to keep Demegawa satisfied. Her credit and career depended on it.

She flipped the page with a lack of interest; Hideki Ryuga was out of the country for the third time this month? It wouldn’t surprise her if he ended up caught in a money laundering scheme, he seemed to be just that dumb. Next up, was A-list actress, Suki Aragaki, marrying his longtime beau, movie director, Kenji Ozu, after enduring a nasty love triangle that ended Ozu’s decade-long marriage. Congratulations, I guess, Kiyomi snorted, rolling her eyes at the absurdity.

She continued flipping until a familiar name made her stop on her tracks. Misa Amane. Without realizing it, her knuckles turned white as she gripped the script, and her jaw clenched painfully.

“Are you alright, Miss Takada?” The makeup artist placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Of course,” Takada let out a deep breath as her anger simmered down. “I’m just nervous, that’s all.”

The makeup artist nodded. “I understand. Don’t let Demegawa intimidate you, he is quite sweet once you get to know him.”

That was doubtful, but she was not about to argue, her attention was somewhere else. Misa Amane. The same silly model who appeared on campus and snatched Light Yagami away from her. To make matters worse, Amane randomly texted her out of nowhere months ago to let her and all of Light’s “other girls” know (which came as a disturbing revelation to her) that Light asked her to move in together and to back off. Why did Light love such an insecure, clingy woman? What could they possibly have in common besides good looks? And her classmates dared to call her superficial, how laughable.

As she kept reading the script, the gloom evaporated like a burst bubble. Misa Amane has been caught buying a pregnancy test despite declaring over the weekend at the premiere of her latest movie that she and her private boyfriend were waiting till marriage. Are we expecting wedding bells for the lovely couple, or did they marry in secret already to avoid the ire of her rabid fanboys? Unless there is something more sinister going on and her boyfriend is not the father of that baby. Perhaps that’s why Hideki Ryuga is out of the country, he is running away from his duty as a father! Those two have been fighting the persistent rumors of romance on set and that might settle it once and for all. Whoever the baby’s father is, congratulations to Misa Amane and her bundle of joy. We can’t wait to have more single mothers in the entertainment industry, such an underrepresented group in our society!

Takada tried to stifle her giggles between her fingers, but her amusement couldn’t be contained. For once Demegawa’s brutal commentary came in handy, there was no way Misa Amane could recover from this scandal. If there was anything juicier than an affair, it was a pregnancy resulting from the affair!

Oh, tonight’s show was going to be so much fun.

~~~

“It just does not make any sense, Miss Takada,” Teppei, her co-host, shook his head. “How can this movie be such a critical success when every review I have seen declared it the worst movie of the year even though we are halfway there? Who is bribing the industry to keep promoting it on television when no one wanted this movie to be made in the first place? It is a conspiracy; I am so sure of it.”

Takada pretended to act interested in the topic and simply smiled widely. She barely met Teppei today and she finally had the confirmation that she was dreading: He was a certified spoiled brat who assumed himself to be the greatest thing that has ever happened to comedy. The son of a politician, he got far enough to step into movies and television because his father left him a bottomless pit of money. He wasn’t good looking, so he relied on his short stature and misogynistic jokes to compensate for the lack of attention he never received in the spotlight. It worked perfectly enough to be perceived as harmless and now he got to hang out with late night show comedians and tour around the country. Takada wondered for how long mediocrity was going to be standard. If he were someone else, Demegawa would have no doubt chewed him out, but money and publicity ruled in his greedy heart.

“The real conspiracy is,” Takada pointed at the screen, a photo of Hideki Ryuga and Misa Amane on set, holding hands. “What is up with these two? They keep stating over and over that there is no romance, but I have yet to see her publicly with her supposed boyfriend. What exactly is she hiding?” The next slide showed a paparazzi shot of Misa Amane allegedly going to the pharmacy for a pregnancy test.

The audience gasped loudly, as expected, thanks to the teleprompter.

“Woah,” Teppei spun around dramatically. “Didn’t she say she was waiting till marriage?”

“It makes you wonder why Hideki Ryuga is out of the country for the third time this week,” Takada gasped. “What are the odds that he found out about her pregnancy and is panicking about the possibility of being a father?”

“If that’s not the case, then she married her boyfriend in secret to keep up with her indiscretion and avoid the ire of her fans.” Teppei covered his mouth and giggled like a schoolboy. “Sucks for him because if they were supposed to be celibate, then that’s Ryuga’s baby! Man, things are not going well for Misa Amane!”

“Congratulations to Misa Amane and her bundle of joy,” Takada recited the script with unnecessary enthusiasm. “We can’t wait to have more single mothers in the entertainment industry, such an underrepresented group in our society!”

The phone rang on the set, which meant that a fan of the show had the opportunity to give their perspective on the topic. This was Demegawa’s idea to encourage “respectful dialogue” on live television, but Takada knew better: It was to enforce the trashiness of the show with inflammatory controversy, and there was no doubt one of Misa’s fanboys was calling to defend her “honor and dignity.”

Yeah, you cannot defend something that never existed, Takada thought bitterly.

“Looks like we struck a nerve,” She hummed and picked up the phone, setting it to onset speaker. “Yes, how can we help you?”

“YOU DISGUSTING, UGLY BITCH!” A shrill voice echoed around the studio, creating some feedback on the boom microphones. “I ought to sue every single of you for defamation of character! I would never cheat on my boyfriend, especially not with Hideki Ryuga! You are all sick in the head for lying this bad!”

Takada couldn’t help the grin that was plastered on her face … No one could mistake that voice to someone else. So, Misa Amane was the type of celebrity who watched gossip shows to hear if she was relevant? This was just too hilarious and unsurprising for her.

“Sorry, Miss Amane, we are just reporting the news,” she said coolly. “We are not fond of frivolous lawsuits, so I ask you to respect the press.”

“YOU ARE NOT REPORTING ‘NEWS’, YOU ARE SPREADING GARBAGE!” There was a brief silence on the other line, and then the sound of chugging down a liquid echoed on the speaker. “You are just jealous that I’m in a committed relationship and you are stuck with your misery,” Misa’s words were slurred. “How about spreading some good news? Whatever happened to being kind?”

“With all due respect, Miss Amane,” Teppei had a smug grin on his face. “You are in the entertainment industry; we don’t owe you kindness. If you can’t handle criticism, maybe being a celebrity is not the job for you.”

Takada covered her mouth, hiding the twitch on her lips that she couldn’t contain any longer. Was this truly the end for Misa Amane? No one seemed to be on Misa’s side, and she was humiliating herself on live television. Things were finally looking up for her.

“Oh, shut up, Teppei, no one likes you, you are only relevant because of your daddy,” Misa shot back. “And as for you, Kiyomi Takada, my boyfriend will never be with you, he prefers me, he said so himself, so knock it off.”

The bombshell caused a murmur amongst the audience and Takada stiffened on the spot. No, she was not going to let Misa Amane win this fight, not now, not ever.

“Wow, Miss Amane, are you having a mental breakdown?” She chuckled. “Jealousy is not part of a healthy relationship, it’s not good that you are projecting your insecurities on me. We don’t even know each other.”

“That’s it! I’m going down to Sakura TV, find you, and kick your butt! You’ll be sorry for messing with me—”

“Like that’s ever going to happen.” And with that, she slammed the phone and there was nothing but the dial and laughter from the audience.

She wondered if she ruined her chances of ever being taken seriously, but one glance at Demegawa’s blissful face told her everything she needed to know: This episode was one for the books.  

~~~

It was close to midnight when the show finally ended, and Takada stayed overtime to talk to Demegawa about the possibility of hosting the show by herself. He said he would think about it, but he couldn’t guarantee anything despite the reception. That was good enough for her. For now.

As she approached the parking lot, she heard footsteps to her left, but there were so light that for a second, she thought she imagined it in her head. She was tired and it had been a long and overexciting night, she couldn’t wait to go home and sleep on her bed.

“There you are!”

Takada turned around and she couldn’t believe what she saw: Staring at her with malice was Misa Amane, standing up straight with her legs apart, and clenched fists.

“I told you I was going to find you and kick your butt! Now, don’t you dare move!” Misa sprinted forward with so much velocity on her direction, her gaze still focused.

Takada panicked for a few moments, darting her head back and forth, looking for a way out. Instinctively, she raised her arms across her face to defend it and swung her leg on any direction her adrenaline asked her to do, her eyes closed.

It all happened so fast: As Misa aimed to kick Takada on the shin, she tripped on Takada’s swinging foot, and she landed on the concrete, stomach down.

Takada opened her eyes when she heard the agonizing whines below her and gasped at the sight of Misa laying flatly in the middle of the parking lot. Oh, God, I didn’t hurt her that bad, did I?

“Are you alright?” She felt pathetic; of course, she was not alright, she just tripped her with her foot, what a terrible question!

“Here, let me help you—”

“Don’t touch me!” Misa shrugged her off as she managed to stand on her own. Well, just barely, she couldn’t maintain her balance as she tried to step away towards the street.

Despite hating that woman with a burning intensity, she was not going to let Misa walk by herself with injuries all over her, especially in such a shady area. No, if she drove away and Misa ended up missing (or worse, dead) because she was alone, she could no longer call herself a virtuous person.

“You are not going anywhere. Come on, I need to take you home.” Takada dragged Misa roughly by the arm towards her car.

“Let me go!” Misa tried to resist her, but her balance betrayed her. “I’m not going to tell you where I live, you are going to stalk Light if you know!”

God, would she stop being so freaking loud?

“Either you tell me where you live, or you have no choice but to spend the night in this parking lot,” She pushed Misa inside the car and dropped her legs on the passenger seat. She then held her arms as she put the seatbelt over her body.

“I don’t have time for this, you are a grown woman, act like it—” She caught a whiff of cheap wine on Misa’s breath. “Ugh, so you are drunk. That’s it, I’m going to drive all around the city until you tell me where I should drop you. I’m not stopping until you get over yourself.”

~~~

The drive did go longer than expected; it was one in the morning and Misa refused to speak one word to her. Two could play the game, Takada did not say one word either. The only sound filling out the silence was the pop radio station playing the same song for the third time. At this point, she wondered if she will ever get peace for at least trying to help another woman out.

“I did mean what I said on the phone,” Misa murmured quietly. “Light does not want you, he never did.”

Why was she bringing that up now? Why did it matter after she ignored her this time entire time?

“I don’t care,” Takada rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to do this, you have him, why isn’t that enough for you?”

“It’s easy for you to say,” Misa snorted. “He dumps you and you act like it never happened. If Light were to dump me, I don’t think I would want to continue living.”

Good lord, this woman is insane.

“You want to know what the worst part is?” Tears suddenly rolled down her eyes. “The reason why I don’t want you to drop me to my apartment is because you will not find him there. He has been acting so weird since—” She shook her head. “No, he is a man, this is a man thing. It’s normal for your boyfriend to not spend every night together, right?”

Takada really wanted to say, no, it was not normal, but she didn’t know what she could possibly say that could make this situation better. She didn’t ask for this personal information, this was none of her business. And yet, why did she want to hear more about Light’s inability to keep his own girlfriend happy? What the hell was wrong with him?

“I’m not pregnant, you know,” Misa whispered, and Takada’s glanced at her, confused. “We have tried—Well, I tried my best to let that happen. I’ve been so hopeful that maybe if we have a baby together, we will be bonded for life. That, maybe, just maybe, he would look at me differently. Yes, I did buy that pregnancy test, and yes, the photos are real, but I’m not pregnant. Are you happy now? You got your little revenge by making fun of me, now I’m asking the media to do the same.”

It was hard to swallow, her throat was so dry. She couldn’t believe this, but she felt guilt. Guilt for even entertaining the idea of messing up someone’s life in such a public manner. Guilt for doing that in the first place for the sake of ratings!

Sorry was not going to be enough, she wasn’t even sure what was she apologizing for. Sorry I tripped you with my foot? Sorry I bullied you so badly that you had to get drunk to deal with the pain on live television? Sorry Light Yagami is not a perfect man? She felt nothing, anything that she could possibly say was going to be in vain if she didn’t mean it.

She suddenly stopped her car and parked on the side of the road. She turned off the radio and breathed out slowly, attempting to calm herself. Screw this, she had to do the right for once.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea that you are left drunk in your apartment.”

“What?” Misa’s eyes widened.

“If Light is not there to keep an eye on you, then—”

“What are you trying to say?” Misa was instantly furious. “I can take care of myself, I’m not a child. When Light comes back in the morning, he won’t even notice I was drunk, it’s like it never happened, we are back to being a normal couple. If you are suggesting that I would do something drastic … I’m not stupid! What do you take me for?”

“Please listen to me,” Takada pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed in and out slowly again. “I’m not saying you are stupid; I’m just trying to say that you are not in control of your emotions, and I don’t trust you to be by yourself for now.”

“I am in control of my emotions.”

“You literally cried to me that Light is not spending every night with you.”

Misa kept her mouth shut.

“All I’m saying is that I need to keep an eye you.” She regretted the words once they left her lips. Was it the guilt talking? Was she considering taking care of Misa until she got over her drunkenness? What the hell was going on here?

“I know what to do now,” She restarted the engine and shifted to drive.

“Where are we going?” Misa asked with suspicion.

“I’m taking you to my apartment and give you the chance to rest there.”

“YAY!” Misa hugged her suddenly and kissed her cheek, almost causing Takada to let go of the steering wheel. “We are going to have a girls’ night, we could stay up all night, tell each other stories—”

“Not happening,” She cut her off, but she smiled despite herself.

Misa giggled. “You know, your numbers just switched, it’s like they moved up.”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing that you should ever worry about.” She said in a sing-song voice.

Takada rolled her eyes. It was going to be a longer night than anticipated.

[sassyduckqueen]

Miraculous: Rise of Anatis 57

Whooo!! The next chapter!! I hope you guys like it. It was fun to write and to follow up on the Mob Boss chapter. Also only on more chapter to go then it's time for my Miracle Queen and love eater. I have a nice plan for that :D Anyway, next up is actually pixelator so that should be fun to adapt.

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Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Song of the Frightingale

Luka sighed to himself as he tapped his foot nervously. He was sat in an waiting room, waiting to go inside to talk to a therapist. Penny had actually been the one to suggest it, bringing it up to his mother. The captain had agreed and they had contacted one of the best for him. Luka himself had tried to insist that he was fine and didn't need to see a therapist but if he was been honest with himself, he knew he wasn't fine. Despite Issac been arrested, he was still suffering from the whole experience. He wasn't getting much sleep because he was waking up from nightmares but that wasn't even the worst part. He had broken down in gym when Mr D'Argencourt had shouted. It hadn't even been directed at him but it had triggered a full blown flashback and panic attack. Aurora and Marc had been the ones to calm him down as he saw Mr D'Argencourt as Issac and had cowered away, afraid. He sighed to himself as he played with his hands. He had been more anxious as well and had taken to turning into Anatis more then necessary but he had found he wasn't as afraid when he was in the suit. He figured it was because in those moments, he wasn't Luka. He wasn't powerless or helpless. He was strong and the hero of Paris. 

 "Luka Couffaine?" The receptionist called out, making him jump. He was sat on his own but that's because he asked to go alone. Anarka was working more often at the moment and he didn't want to bother anyone plus it was something he wanted to face. He looked at the receptionist who gave him a nice smile. "Dr Lang is ready to see you now,"

 "Thank you," He mumbled, getting up and walking over to the door. He knocked on it and entered, noticing the chinese paintings on the wall straight away before turning his attention to the doctor. She looked like she was in her early 30s and was very pretty. Her hair was dark and tied in a loose bun and she wore a red cheongsam with black pants. Her eyes were dark brown and she was asian decent. She smiled softly at him and gestured to the seat in front of her. He slowly took a seat as she took out a notebook.

 "Luka Couffaine, I'm guessing?" She asked, making him nod. "I'm Doctor Mila Lang,"

 "It's nice to meet you," He mumbled, playing with his hands.

 "Likewise," She replied, writing down on her notepad. "I read over your notes and it mentioned that you recently experienced a traumatic experience?"

 He nodded, glancing down. She rose an eyebrow as he played with his hands again.

 "My stepfather kidnapped me and tried to kill me," He muttered as she wrote on the notepad again. 

 "Your notes also mentioned you broke down at school?" She asked, glancing up at him. "Care to explain to me what happened?"

 "I was in gym and Mr D'Argencourt had risen his voice at one of the other boys but it spooked me and I started to feel panicky. It just got worse from there," He sighed, frowning and looking to the side, trying to focus on something while he retold the story. "I started to panic as I began to feel like I was back in the warehouse my stepfather had held me in and I begin to freak out as I saw Mr D'Argencourt as my stepfather and then it was like I was living it all over again..."

 "A flashback..." She muttered, writing down the details. "Do you have similar nightmares?"

 He nodded, making her frown a little.

 "How often?"

 "Almost every night..." He admitted, frowning. She wrote it down too. "Even my mediation doesn't help anymore..."

 "You mediate?" She asked, glancing up at him. "Why?"

 "Um to help my mind and feelings... I'm kind of sensitive I guess..." He mumbled, not wanting to tell her about the empathy. Doctors tended no to believe in things like that. "Part of the reason why I started it was because of my stepfather. Um... he was... he wasn't a very nice man and would look for any reason to hit me. I had imaginary friends as a child but he would punish me for talking to them. As I grew up, I moved on from them as kids do but then he would punish me for not completing my homework on time or for wanting to learn to play guitar. He would even punish me for been sick or for crying... so I started to mediate to calm myself down before he got home... after he left my life, I continued with it because it helped ground me..."

 "It mentions in your notes that you were homeschooled for the last six years and that the last time you were in a normal school was when you were nine years old?" She asked, looking up at home. "And you also use to live Bordeaux?"

 "Yes, Ma'am," Luka replied, making her nod. "We moved to Paris after my ma split up with my stepfather,"

 "You mentioned your stepfather was abusive towards you... can I ask if he was abusive towards your mother?" She asked, glancing up at him.

 "He was but I only found out recently," He admitted, looking down. Dr Lang nodded and wrote on the notepad again.

 "Ok," She muttered as Luka tapped his fingers. "Let's talk about the akumas,"

 Instantly, he froze up, making her frown a little. His eyes had gone wide and his hand was actually shaking.

 "Luka," Her voice made him look up as he felt his heart rate increase and he felt sick. "I want you to close your eyes and focus on your breathing,"

 Luka nodded and did as instructed as Dr Lang frowned a little, writing down on her notes that he had a panicked response to the word akumas. She had been working with a number of the akuma victims she arrived in Paris a year ago and a lot of them had unique reactions to them but she hadn't seen anything of them almost enter a panic attack just by mentioning the word. Slowly, Luka calmed down, focusing on his breathing. He had experienced a number of panic attacks since Blackout but since Mob Boss, they had gotten worst. He didn't get them as Anatis but he just figured that's because he had a way to fight them and that they hadn't gone near him or tried to possess him but when he thought about them or someone mentioned them, his mind just went into overdrive. 

 "While we talk about them, I want you to keep focused on your breathing ok?" Dr Lang's voice brought him out of his thoughts and he nodded. "Ok. Your notes mentioned that you have been possessed by akumas twice but have never actually turned into a supervillain. Is this correct?"

 "Y-Yeah," Luka replied, taking slow but steady breathes. 

 "Let's tackle the first one. My notes mention that you were almost possessed before the akuma blackout happened," She stated as he kept his breathing steady. "Can you tell me why?"

"M-Mr Roth stole my music and my friend's costumes," He muttered, thinking back on that day. Everything had been great until they realized Bob Roth had ripped them off. "S-She had worked so hard on them and I got so mad because he stole them and then he threatened her..."

 "And he also stole your music?" She asked, making him nod. "What happened when the akuma entered the item you were holding?"

 "I h-heard Hawkmoth's voice. He called me Silencer but then there was this buzzing noise and I tried to tell him no but he insisted and the buzzing got worst then I heard Marinette scream before I had a seizure and blacked out," He replied, not telling her about the hut or meeting Feng. She wouldn't understand. "I briefly woke up when Marinette tried to get me away from the akuma but I don't remember much from it to be honest,"

 "I see," She replied, looking up from her notes. "And what happened the second time?"

 "I... I almost suffocated," He replied before sighing. "H-Hawkmoth wanted to give me the power to escape. Even a s-sentimonster this time,"

 He took a deep breathe.

 "He decided Escape Artist would be my akuma but I had another seizure. It was... worse then before," He continued before frowning as he thought about why. "M-Maybe it was because I had been beaten up or because it was an akuma and an amok but I couldn't breathe..."

 She nodded as he spoke.

 "M-My stepfather had put duct tape around my nose and had broken my nose and ribs. I only managed to escape because one of his men actually realized I was fitting and removed the duct tape and handcuffs. I escaped while they were distracted," He replied as he felt tears in his eyes. He quickly wiped them away. "S-Sorry,"

 "It's fine to cry, Luka," Dr Lang replied, grabbing a box of tissues before passing it to him. He took one out and wiped his eyes. "You have gone through a lot in the last few weeks. Been nearly akumatized twice, having your step father attempt to abduct you and then actually succeed and try to kill you. It's not a surprise that you are frightening and having nightmares. Your mind is trying to deal with that trauma but bottling it up won't help,"

 "With all due respect, Doctor but if I don't bottle it up then I could be at risk at been akumatized again and it's not like that's very good for me," He replied before sighing. "I am afraid but I can't let myself feel it. Hawkmoth preys on negative emotions,"

 "I understand that, Luka but it isn't a healthy coping method," She replied, making him frown. She was right. He knew that but there was a lot more at risk for him then just been akumatized. He would have a seizure again but more importantly, he was Anatis. He couldn't afford to be akumatized. "Now it's an excellent thing that you are meditating but have you tried to keep a diary or a journal?"

 "I have one but I only really use it for important things," He replied, thinking about the one he kept some of his superhero thoughts in.

 "I think you should take up writing one," She replied, making him nod. "I think it will help releasing the negative emotions but another thing you should considering doing is socializing. Go out with your friends. You're a teenager, Luka. You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, even if it feels like you do,"

 "What makes you think that?" He asked, looking at her. She didn't feel like she knew his secret but maybe she did. She chuckled and tapped her pen.

 "You have a part time job, you live with your mother and sister and more then likely you see yourself as the 'man' of the house or their protector," She replied, making him frown. "And your file mentions that your reaction to waking up in hospital wasn't 'am I ok' but 'is everyone ok?'. It suggests that you see yourself as someone who's job is to protect those who are weaken then yourself and while it is noble and there is nothing wrong with that, I don't wish for you to forget that you're still a teenager. You're 16 years old after all,"

 "You're wrong about one thing," He stated, making her look at him. "I don't view myself as my family's protector. I know my ma and sister are more then capable of looking after themselves but even if they are, I'll protect them. Not because I'm the 'man' of the house but because it's the right thing to do and because I refuse to become like Issac,"

 "It's good that you don't want to be like him and it's good that you have a strong sense of justice," She replied, making him nod. "But just don't get that you're still a teenager. It's ok to ask for help if you need it,"

 Luka nodded, causing Dr Lang to smile before they continued their session.

 ~A Few Days Later~

 Luka moved his fingers across the neck of the violin as he played his latest creation. He had been writing a song but chose to play it on his violin instead of his guitar. It had a melancholy feel to it and as much as he loved playing his guitar, he felt like it wouldn't do it justice. The song was made to played on the violin, especially since he was taking the emotions he had felt with the whole Issac situation and put them into a song. Sure, it wasn't exactly a journal but he still had a feeling that Doctor Lang would approve. He stopped playing and grabbed his pen, adjusting the notes on his sheet of music before playing through it again. He smiled as it sounded perfect before he put his violin down and stretched, glancing over at Tikki. She was dancing in front of his computer as she watched one of Clara Nightingale's song, making himself before he walked over.

 "Having fun?" He asked as she spun before grinning at him.

 "Definitely!" She declared as the song came to an end. "I love her music. She is really incredible!"

 "She is pretty good," Luka smiled as he grabbed the case and equipment to clean his violin.

 "And that was Clara Nightingale's latest single Big Bang," Alec stated as he looked at the screen. Clara walked over and stood next to him as she continued to dance, making Luka look up and chuckle a little.

 "She seems passionate about her art," He stated as Alec turned to her. Tikki nodded in enthusiasm as Luka dusted down his violin before placing it in the case, securing it. He picked up the bow next and began to clean that as he looked up.

 "Clara, you have once again become an international sensation with your hit single, Big Bang and your unique style," Alec stated as Clara sung around and moved her arm up and down as she continued to dance. "Apparently, you ever sing and dance in your sleep. Do you ever stop?"

 "Never, you see! Singing and dancing is everything to me!" She rhymed as she danced around Alec and faced the camera. "And I'm happy to share the joy of song and dance to the amazing people of France,"

 "See that, Luka?!" Tikki gasped, making him look at her. "She's a true artist!!"

 "Well, I'll take your word on it," He grinned, putting his bow in the case and closing it up. "After all, you are the embodiment of creativity,"

 Tikki giggled as he gently patted her head before she turned their attention back to the computer.

 "You've come back to Paris to film the music video for your next single, titled Miraculous," Alec declared, making Luka look at the screen in surprise. He knew Jagged had made a song about Anatis and Lady Noir but he didn't think other artists would. 

 "I really admire and adore Anatis and Lady Noir," She rhymed, smiling. "An homage to them I wanted to pay because they inspire me every single day!"

 "But last time you tried to film a video for a song devoted to our heroes, you became an akuma," Alec stated, making her frown. "Are you concerned that something will go wrong this?"

 "No, not at all. It will be ok. It is my call," She declared, smiling again. "And even if I fall under a spell, I know that everything will be swell. Anatis and Lady Noir will save the day and I'll be ok. You see, with our heroes around, I know we'll all be safe and sound,"

 "Your faith in our heroes is wonderful," He smiled as Luka smiled as well. 

 "I can believe she's written a song about Anatis and Lady Noir," Alec replied as she continued to dance. "So authoditions will be held in the Grand Paris hotel. Tell me have you casted Anatis or Lady Noir yet?"

 "We have not cast the heroes just yet but don't worry we won't forget!" She declared, moving her arms as she grinned. "We must also must cast extras by the way so come out and audition today! Whenever it be hero or someone to dance, come down and give it a chance! You never know you might get to play a hero of France!"

 Luka jumped a little as someone knocked on his door. Tikki hid before he walked over to it and opened it. Juleka was stood in front of it, playing with her hands. She glanced up at him and gave him a little smile.

 "Um Everyone is meeting up to go to the auditions for Clara Nightingale's video and I was thinking you could come with us?" She suggested, making him smile a little. Since the whole kidnap thing, Juleka had been finding more excuses to hang out with him. Part of him thought it was because she was worried and part of him suspected it was so she could be sure he was safe. He didn't mind though. He liked spending more time with his sister and their friends. 

 "Sure, Jewels," He smiled, making her smile back. "Let me put on my shoes and grab my hoodie,"

 "Ok," She smiled back before disappearing back into the living area. Luka closed the door before grabbing his shoes and slipping them on. Tikki flew over to him.

 "You're not gonna audition for the Anatis role are you?" She asked, a little concerned. Luka chuckled and gently stroked her head.

 "Don't worry, Tikki. We're just gonna be extras in the video," He smiled, putting on his hoodie. He held it open for her to fly in, which she did after giving him a nod.

 ~At the Grand Paris Hotel~

 "Oh this is so exciting!!" Rose declared as they walked up to the stands. Juleka had her arms wrapped around her and leaning on her. Alya was stood next to Alix and Mylene as she took photos. They had manage to get there pretty early but there was still a lot of people stood outside. They hadn't opened for the auditions just yet but the gang had gotten quite a good place. They should be some of the first in the que. Currently, Luka was stood next to Juleka and Marinette, who was practically vibrating with excitement. Adrien was stood with them, along with Chloe. Sadly, Kagami couldn't make it. "Ooh, do you think you'll get to play Lady Noir this time, Marinette?!"

 "Oh, I just want to be an extra," Marinette smiled, holding up her hands. "I mean it was really cool that I almost got to play Ryuko last time but I'm definitely no Lady Noir. She's way more graceful then I am,"

 "I think you'd make a good Lady Noir," Luka smiled, making Marinette's cheeks turn red before he turned to Adrien. "Are you gonna try out for Anatis?"

 "Father wants me to but I managed to convince him that I wasn't tall enough or even the same build," He replied, making Luka nod before he clicked his fingers. "Oh you should try out for it! You're the same height and build plus you know him so you would be able to play him better then anyone else here,"

 "Oh that's true!!" Marinette gasped, making Luka blush. "You're good looking enough- I mean you look similar to him as well,"

 The girls sniggered as Luka went bright red from Marinette calling him good looking. Chloe shook her head as she smirked.

 "While Luka is attractive enough to play him, Anatis has that little bit extra," She explained, looking at her nails before looking up. "No offense, Luka,"

 "N-None taken," He replied, blushing still. He still found it strange that people found him attractive. "But I won't be playing Anatis. I just want to be an extra with you guys,"

 "Aww!!" Everyone stated, causing him to smile bashfully. However, a shrill laugh made them look over as Lila walked over, smirking. Marinette instantly froze up as Luka grabbed the pepper spray in his pocket. He had brought it everywhere with him since Issac. It's not that he didn't feel safe. He did to a certain degree since Issac was been held in a secure unit outside Paris until his trial but he had been badly shaken up by the whole event and brought his pepper spray with him. He hadn't need to use it yet but it would be useful for him to keep it on himself. Especially with someone like Lila. 

 "Hi, everyone," She smirked as she walked over. She clearly ignored the glares from Chloe, Marinette and Juleka before stepping closer to Luka. "Hi, Luka. It's nice to see you out and about. Though I'm surprised. I would be terrified if I were you,"

 "Lila, piss off," He stated in a harsh tone, making her gasp in shock. However, the rest of them were sniggering. Lila narrowed her eyes and swept them across them, landing on Chloe before she smiled falsely.

 "Oh, I'm surprised you're not trying to audition for Lady Noir, Chloe," She stated in a too sweet voice. "You would have the most experience been that you were Lady Copycat... Oh but didn't you cause Clara's akumatization last time? I'm surprised you showed up,"

 "Well, unlike you, Liela, I have actually changed," She pointed out, making Lila glare at little. "And I have no intention of been Lady Noir. I know I'm not right for the role,"

 "That's probably a good thing," Lila smirked, trying to bait her but when she didn't bite, she decided to go with another thing. "I mean after the role of Lady Noir has been promised to me by Clara and Gabriel. She just loves my moves after all and I'm his best model but to make it look fair and so her rep isn't ruined, she wants me to audition so I better get in line,"

 She turned on her heel and walked off, making the group let out a sigh.

 "I still don't understand how that harpy got a contract with Gabriel," Chloe gasped as Adrien shrugged. "Is Uncle Gabriel on drugs?"

 "Not that I'm aware of," Adrien replied as an event worker came out of the building. "He might have had way too much caffeine though,"

 "Extras on the left!!" He declared, pointing towards the left as the doors opened, allowing people to head inside. "Auditionees for Anatis and Lady Noir to the right,"

 The gang moved into the door on the left and walked into the building, standing behind the barriers as auditionees moved through the barriers on the right. Luka looked around as he took in the place. The stage had giant colorful triangles around it that resembled Clara's outfit. Luka couldn't help but smile at the song he was listening to. It was full of hope and excitement. Marinette glanced at him, making her smile as she saw the light in his eyes. She moved a little closer to him and poked his cheek, making him glance down at her.

 "What does it sound like?" She asked, making him smile before he closed his eyes and began to hum. The people around them stopped chatting and turned to listen to his humming, finding themselves smiling as they listened. Marinette smiled and lightly closed her eyes as she leaned against him, listening. Chloe and Adrien felt their hearts flutter and feel light while Juleka, Alya, Rose, Mylene and Alix closed their eyes. Rose placed her hand over Juleka's as Juleka placed hers on her heart. Alya swayed a little as she listened. Mylene wiped away a tear as Alix tapped her foot. Finally, he came to a stop and opened his eyes, causing everyone to do the same.

 "Something like that but there's so many different instruments in here that I can't do it justice," He replied, gently rubbing the back of his neck nervously as everyone around him smiled and looked at him with amazement. However, their attention left him as Clara Nightingale walked onto the stage, causing everyone to look at him. Luka blinked as her song sung much louder then others he had heard but it was full of love, compassion and excitement.

 "Thank you for coming all of you!! It's like a dream come true!!" She declared as she danced and moved around the stage. "Together, we'll all dance and sing!! It's gonna be awesome and amazing!"

 "We're gonna be in Clara Nightingale's music video!!" Alya gasped as everyone else practically vibrated in excitement. "This is humongous!"

 "I can't believe this happening!!" Marinette grinned, jumping up and down a little as Luka smiled at her before he turned his attention back to Clara and the stage.

 "Time to have some fun and find a star!" Clara declared as she spun around. "Let's start by finding our Lady Noir!"

 The security guards opened the line of the Lady Noir Auditionees as Clara climbed down from the stage as the music started. Luka watched as the first person took the stage, wondering who would end up playing his partner. Whoever it was who have to have a playful energy but would also need to know when to be serious. They would have to be brave and kind as well as tough and ready to do what was right. He frowned a little as no one really had the energy that she did. Most people were just moving around the stage or doing small things. One or two tried gymnastics but made both him and Clara frown when they failed but he had to admire them for trying and it was nice to see so many people wanting to portray his partner. He glanced back over at the line and frowned as he noticed Lila talking to people, causing them to look down. He knew her game. She was using her silver tongue to make them feel bad or convincing them that they have no chance. She actually dropped something and picked it up but the person who she knelt next to end up tripping on her shoelaces, making him frown. Soon, Lila's turn came up and she strutted onto the stage like she owned it before beginning to move and dance, causing everyone to start at her in surprise. Luka hated to admit it but he always gave credit where it was due. She was good. She threw her arms and flicked her hair with confidence as Clara watched her. 

 "Your moves are good and your dancing is too," Clara stated, making Lila smirk. "But your heart doesn't seem true..."

 Lila couldn't help but frown at her comment before quickly fixing her face but it was too late. Clara had seen it and she frowned as she did but even if she hadn't, it didn't matter. She didn't want Lila to be her Lady Noir. She knew about the whole her been exposed by Anatis and it felt wrong to have her play one of the heroes who had exposed her. The only reason why she was giving her the time of day is because Gabriel had suggested her. She was the face of his new clothes line for teenagers but seeing her in action, Clara couldn't understand why. While she had the moves, she had no passion.

 "I assure you, Miss Nightingale, as the face of Gabriel, my heart is sincere and true," Lila stated, trying to look innocent. Clara sighed and glanced around, noticing a familiar face in the crowd. 

 "Marinette, is that you?" She gasped, rushing over. Marinette gasped and blushed. "Oh, this is a dream come true! My Ryuko has grown and became a star! Tell me, will you be my Lady Noir?"

 "Her?!" Lila screeched but Clara ignored her and Nathalie gave her a warning look. Lila wisely shut up. 

 "Oh, I mean... I'm honoured but..." Marinette gasped, blushing as she played with her hands. She glanced over at Lila, who smirked at her. She knew if she said no, Lila would get the role and there's no way she would be a good Lady Noir. However, Marinette really just intend to come here to hang with her friends. "I would like to just stay with my friends,"

 Lila gasped in surprise as she generally expected Marinette to take the role. She knew she would have but apparently, Marinette thought she was too good for it. Clara frowned sadly but gave her a small smile before nodding in understanding.

 "It looks like you get the role, oh face of Gabriel," She replied, making Lila smile. However, she said for now in her head as one of the stage hands walked over to her.

 "Head to the changing room and try on the suit," He ordered, causing Lila to walk off stage and headed to the changing room. A few minutes later, she walked out and back onto the stage, making Clara look at her with a critical eye. The suit didn't suit her and she hadn't even put on the wig.

 "Where's your wig?" Gabriel asked from the tablet as Lila flicked her hair.

 "Oh, I didn't think it worked," She replied, making him frown before turning to a stage hand.

 "Find the wig,"

 "It's no biggie. It's ok," Clara stated as the stage hand ran off. "We don't need to the wig for the anatis tryouts anyway. Come on!"

 The security guard by the line for Anatis Auditionees moved and let them come on the stage one by one. And one by one, they went back. Either they didn't have what it took or Lila glared at them. Clara frowned as she hated the look of Lila and it was becoming increasingly clear that she was definitely not the right choice. She glanced back at Marinette who also was considering changing her mind but while Marinette was perfect for the role of Lady Noir, she needed to find a perfect Anatis and these tryouts were just not working. They had gone through all of them and not a single one was worthy to be Anatis. Even if Lila wasn't there, they wouldn't be. She held out her hand, causing the music to stop.

 "Lila, please go get changed," She stated, surprising her. "You don't have the right feel or range,"

 "I'm perfect for the role!" Lila gasped, looking to Gabriel to agree but he shook his head.

 "I'm afraid not, Miss Rossi," He stated, making her gasp. "Besides, all this filming will interfere with your contract... I'd hate to lose you as the face of Gabriel,"

 "Oh... well when you put it that way," Lila gasped before walking off. She exited a few minutes later and walked out. Though Marinette and Luka felt like it wasn't over yet. Clara, however, ignored her and tapped her cheek as she wondered what to do. She didn't have a Lady Noir or an Anatis yet. She could probably convince Marinette to play Lady Noir. She knew the girl was perfect but she still needed to find a perfect Anatis. Someone who would compliment her in the same way Anatis compliments Lady Noir and vice versa. She glanced over at the crowd who wanted to be extras. Her Anatis was in there. She could feel it. She glanced over at the refreshment table and smiled as an idea popped to her head. She walked over and picked up a tray of snacks before turning to them.

 "You must starving from all this waiting," She declared, spinning around before walking over. She smirked to herself before on purposely tripping herself up, falling to the floor as the snacks covered her and the tray landed on the ground. The crowd gasped in shock but only one person made a move. Luka slipped under the ribbon and helped her up, asking if she was ok. "Oh there you are!!"

 "I'm sorry?" He asked, surprised.

 "Here's a hug!" She declared, hugging him. "Because you're Anatis the Ladybug,"

 "Uh I have no idea what you're talking about," He gasped, going bright red and holding up his hands. Clara looked over and saw how Marinette looked at him before smiling. He was the right choice. She grabbed his arms and spun around with him.

 "You did what Anatis would have! Just the same!" She declared as they danced, spinning them around. "Your heart is pure like his. What's your name?"

 "Um... L-Luka..." He gasped as she dipped him down with surprising strength.

 "Luka..." She smiled, spinning back around before getting down on one knee. "Say it so! You will play Anatis in my video?!"

 "M-Me?" He gasped, completely taken back as Clara looked at him with hope and his friends cheered. He didn't want to disappoint her but he also didn't want to disappoint Tikki. He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ms Nightingale. It's really kind of you to ask but I came here to be with my friends and I'd like to stay with them,"

 "Oh, that's a pity and shame but I know it's true," She declared, smiling a little before standing up. "That's a very cool gesture. Very Anatis of you,"

 She grinned before taking his hand and pulling him over to a make up area.

 "Just sit here for make ok?" She grinned, dancing a little. "I'll have your friends sent over right away,"

 "Thank you," He smiled back before she walked away. A few minutes later, Marinette and the others rushed over to him, hugging him. Clara gave them a smile as she walked over, still determined to find her Anatis and Lady Noir.

 ~Outside of the Building~

 Lila huffed to herself as she was annoyed. She wanted to be the star in the show but apparently, Gabriel didn't want her to be. The good thing was Marinette wasn't gonna be playing Lady Noir either. Still it annoyed her. However, her mind was taking off it when her phone vibrated. She took it out and saw it was a withheld number, making her smirk as she pressed answer and held it to her ear.

 "Miss Rossi, time to prove your usefulness and show me those skills you promised you have," A deep voice stated, making her smirk.

 "Consider it done," She replied, hanging up before scrolling through her phone, stopping on the mayor's number. She had stolen it from her mother's phone when she wasn't looking. She figured it would be useful to have. She pressed the call button before holding it to her ear. It answered on the third ring.

 "Hello?"

 "Hi, is this Mr Bourigous?" She asked in her sweetest voice.

 "Speaking but how did you get this number?" He gasped. "Who is this?"

 "Oh, my name is Lila. I'm a close friend of your daughter Chloe. She gave me your number in case I ever needed to get in contact," She lied, smirking. "I hate to bother you but she is really upset,"

 "What?! Why?" He gasped, sounding worried.

 "Because of the music video that Clara Nightingale is filming," She stated, smirking. "She wouldn't say it herself because she is trying to be a better person but she feels really upset that she can't play Lady Noir in it. I tried to comfort her but nothing I said has cheered her up. I fear she might be akumatized unless something happens,"

 "My goodness!" He gasped, buying it. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. My Chloekin's is too kind for her own good,"

 "Oh yes. She's improved so much," She stated, rolling her eyes. "But she's still so upset,"

 "Of course, thank you for informing me," He replied.

 "Anything for my friends," She replied, finishing up the phone call. She hung up and smirked before flicking her hair and walking inside. Clara was chatting and working with the stage hands and direction as they tried to work out who should be in the role. Lila frowned as she saw Luka and his friends sat talking happily. She narrowed her eyes before noticing Clara's microphone set aside. She moved closer to it and picked it up, looking at it as the door burst open and the mayor came in, looking angry. The look on Chloe's face was priceless as he stormed over to Clara and began to tell her she couldn't film in Paris without a permit. Luka looked alarmed as Chloe jumped up and rushed over.

 "Daddy, what are you doing?!" She gasped, making him look at her.

 "Don't worry, darling. Daddy will fix it," He stated, turning back to her. "Since you don't have a permit, it means you can't film anywhere in France including Paris!"

 "Daddy!" Chloe gasped as Marinette, Luka and the others rushed over. "Why are you stopping her from filming?!"

 "Because you're upset about not playing the main role," He gasped, making her look at him in horror and surprise. "You... are upset right?"

 "What? No, I don't want to play Lady Noir!" She gasped, surprising him. "Who told you I was upset?!"

 "Your friend called me!" He gasped, making everyone look at Lila with a glare. She was the only person who would do something like that after all. She gave them a smirk back. "Sweetie, I've already put the permit through. Clara can't film here today,"

 "But I don't understand..." Clara gasped as Lila walked over. Alya instantly looked at her.

 "Girl, tell me you didn't do that," She asked as she ignored her.

 "Oh, I'm sorry. I really did think Chloe was upset," She replied, in her sweetest voice as everyone stared at her. Clara looked extremely hurt as Lila held out her mic to her. She went to take it but Lila dropped it to the floor, causing the star on it to crack. It seemed to be the last straw as Clara began to cry as she picked it up. "Ooops,"

 "You did that on purpose!" Marinette gasped, glaring at her along with the others. Even Alya was glaring at her but Lila looked at them with watery eyes.

 "Of course, I didn't," She sniffed. "My hand shakes from my athirist and I really thought I was helping Chloe. I didn't meant to completely ruin production but it's not a massive deal. I'm sure Mr Mayor can reverse it,"

 "I... I can't," He gasped, making them all look at them. "Once the paper work is done, it's done... I'm sorry..."

 "No, the video needs to be shoot here in Paris, the capital of love... the City of Anatis and Lady Noir..." Clara gasped, holding her broken mic in her hand as tears rolled down her cheeks. Luka gasped and leaned down to try and comfort her. "This ruins all of my plans... I'm sorry, my beloved fans!"

 She stood and rushed off, sobbing as she did.

 "Clara!" Luka gasped before turning to Lila with a dark expression. It actually scared her a little and reminded her off how Anatis looked at her. "You're evil,"

 "I was-"

 "Save it for someone who believes you, Rossi," He stated, coldly. "We all know you did it on purpose because you didn't get the role but this just proves you're not worth to play Lady Noir at all. You're no hero,"

 Lila went to say something but Luka rushed away from her and towards the trailer Clara had rushed into, knocking on the door as he did. However, Clara refused to open the door. Lila smirked to herself and walked out of the building as Luka sighed and walked back over to the group. 

 "I can't believe Lila did that," Alya gasped, making Marinette frown.

 "I can," Luka stated as Marinette nodded. "She isn't a good person no matter how much she pretends,"

 "Yeah... I'm starting to see what you mean," Alya stated, frowning. She wanted to give Lila the benefit of the doubt but the whole incident with Luka and this was really making her wonder who Lila really was. However, she didn't have much time to think as a whip suddenly hit her and Mayor Bourgeois who was near her. "What the hell?"

 "Sing, dance or rhyme!" Clara declared, causing everyone to look over at her. Luka and Marinette gasped as she had clearly been akumatized. "Or you're be frozen in no time!"

 "What?!" The mayor gasped but he suddenly turned into a magenta statue, causing Alya to gasp.

 "Um, yo it's alya and I'll keep up this rhyme," She gasped as Frightingale grinned. "I don't want to be frozen! Not this time!"

 "Bravo," She declared, clapping her hands. "You have the right tempo!"

 She laughed before lifting her mic and using it to whip people, causing them to scream and run as they turned into statues. In the panic of the crowd, Luka and Marinette managed to get away without getting hit. Luka managed to sneak into one of the trailers and opened his hoodie, causing Tikki to fly out.

 "I'm proud of you resisting been Anatis," She grinned, making him smile.

 "Yeah but now it's time to be the star of the show," He declared, swiping his earrings. "Tikki, spots on!"

 He transformed into Anatis and slipped outside, looking around as he noticed there were statues but Frightingale wasn't inside. He frowned as he heard screams coming from out. He ran and jumped, climbing onto the roof as Frightingale stood at the top and whipped people, turning them into statues.

 "Sing, dance or rhyme!" She yelled, smirking evilly. "Or you'll be frozen in no time!"

 "I thought you were a fan of us, Nightingale so you should know we fight villains!" He yelled, throwing his yoyo and wrapping it around her whip, making her look at him. "And this is not a very nice way to treat your fans either!"

 "I'm Frightingale from now on out! Forever and ever, there's no doubt!" She declared, yanking the string and pulling him a bit closer to her. Anatis jumped back and down to the edge of the building as she tried to whip him. "And if you stand in my way, there'll be a price to pay!"

 "You can't let negative emotions get to you!" He declared, dodging and throwing his yoyo at her. "Forcing people to sing or dance isn't who you are!"

 "Song and dance will make the world a better place," She declared, catching his yoyo and spinning it as she jumped down. "If you don't agree me then you're a disgrace!"

 "The only disgrace is Hawkmoth!" He declared, dodging his yoyo as she tried to attack him with it before he jumped off the building, pulling her with him before the two of them landed on the ground. He charged at her, trying to hit her with his yoyo as she moved away and dodged it. "Listen, I can help you. Just give me your akuma-"

 "No!" She screamed as she jumped back. "I won't let you take my akuma away!! I like the new me and I'm here to stay!!"

 She charged at him, causing him to lift his yoyo but she tripped as Lady Noir arrived and used her baton to knock her down. She grinned as she jumped over to them.

 "Might if I join the dance?" She asked. Frightingale jumped over her and landed on the building across the street. "Well, she's got a lot of energy,"

 "I'm not surprised," Anatis replied as he walked over to Lady Noir. "Clara?! There's another way!"

 "You're just like the others but you can't silence me!" She shouted back, making him sigh. "I'm just trying to make the world better, can't you see?!"

 The butterfly mask appeared around her eyes as Hawkmoth talked to her, causing Anatis to frown before she pointed her wand at him.

 "Do you really think the two of you can win this battle through and through?" She asked as Lady Noir clicked her neck.

 "Two is always better then one!" She replied before turning to Anatis. "I'll take the left,"

 "I'll take the right then," Anatis replied before the two of them ran over and scaled the building as Frightingale smirked and striked a pose. Anatis threw his yoyo as Lady Noir extended her baton but Frightingale dodged them, causing his yoyo to wrap around her baton. He pulled his yoyo back as Lady Noir backflipped out of the way of Frightingale's whip before throwing it again. Lady Noir dived at her this time, causing her to backflip out of the way. Anatis' yoyo wrapped around Lady Noir, causing her to fall onto the roof as Frightingale landed again. She went to hit Lady Noir with her whip but Anatis pulled her out of the way and caught her in his arms. Seeing her chance, Frightingale threw her whip and hit them both, causing them to gain a magenta glow before she laughed.

 "Welcome to my musical show!" She shouted, taking a bow. "I hope it will be your fatal blow,"

 She laughed as Lady Noir and looked at her arms.

 "Oh, really now? Is that what you think?" Anatis stated, surprising her. "Well, I got news for you. Me and my partner are in perfect sync,"

 "What?!" She gasped, surprised as Lady Noir gently danced. "No, that can't be so! You should fail. How are you resisting my glow?!"

 "Music is my nature, it's in my soul," He replied, making Lady Noir look at him. "So let's get on with this fight. It's time to rock and roll!"

 He turned to Lady Noir and gave her smile as she looked a bit unsure. She was just moving her arms to stop herself from been turned into a statue.

 "Don't be afraid. I'll get us freed," He stated, holding his hand. "But til then, just follow my lead,"

 He winked at her, making her blush as she took his hand. He spun her around and pulled her towards him as Frightingale charged at them. Using dance, they fought her. Anatis lifted Lady Noir by her hips, allowing her to kick out at Frightingale before he spun her back around and the two of them jumped out of the way. 

 "What should we do? We can't keep up this dance," She stated as they jumped back. "We don't stand a chance,"

 "Not right now but I know what to do," He stated before saluting Frightingale. "Adieu,"

 He and Lady Noir jumped off the building and landed behind the bus before the two of them moved in a sort of dance. They heard Frightingale land on the ground and declared that they can't hide as she looked around for them.

 "It's not in our favor in a glance," Lady Noir gasped, looking at him. "Cause we have to advance while constantly keeping up the song and dance. We can't leave nothing to chance,"

 "I agree and I have a plan you see," He replied before taking out his yoyo. "If there's anything that can do her harm, it will be my... Lucky Charm!"

 "Handcuffs? Now that seems strange," Lady Noir gasped as he caught them and looked around. "Maybe our luck will change... but we know we need to stop her so what plan do you have to offer?"

 "Hmm..." He stated as he danced, glancing around. The handcuffs, his yoyo and Lady Noir's ring lit up, causing him to smirk. "They're not for her. Theyr'e for us... but we're gonna need you to do your stuff,"

 "How can I use my power? I can't think of a rhyme!" Lady Noir gasped, looking down a little. "Maybe you could help me out this time,"

 "Hmm... well, you're a good talker, dancer and talker," He stated, tapping his chin. "So look on the bright side today. Don't be pessimistic and make way..."

 "For optimism!" She gasped before holding out her hand. "Cataclysm!"

 The dark energy appeared in her hand before Anatis handcuffed their hands together and used his yoyo to tie their feet together. Just as Frightingale lifted the bus they were hiding behind. However, she gasped when she saw them stood back to back, chained together.

 "I warned you that we are in sync," Anatis stated as she stepped back before he looked at Lady Noir. "Let's get this done before she can think,"

 "Our movement are one and we are the same," Lady Noir grinned, moving with Anatis as the two of them fought against Frightingale, knocking her back. "We're done with playing your little game!"

 "By any chance, will you grant me this dance?" Anatis smirked as they punched her and kicked her, causing her to retreat farther.

 "Of course, for you... my sweet bug-a-boo," Lady Noir winked before they kicked her through the door to the audition room. They walked through as she scrambled to get up.

 "You can't bend the rules!" She shouted as she ran over to the stage before pointing at them. "Dancing tied up is cheating, fools,"

 "When someone's akumatized, we never compromise," Anatis stated before they ran over to the stage and dived at her, causing her to dive out of the way. They got back to the feet and landed a hit on her as she tried to hit them with her whip. They dodged by blocking her with their arms before using their conjoined arms to knock her back. They made a grab for her wand, causing it to turn into dust as Lady Noir touched it with her charged hand. The akuma broke free and the two heroes grinned, taking off the handcuffs before they both threw them up in the air and shouted the magic words. They burst into the swarm and fixed everything, flowing around them before disappearing. Anatis threw out his yoyo and captured the akuma before releasing the purified version as Lady Noir grinned.

 "You never told me you were good at dancing," She grinned, making him blush a little as Frightingale turned back into Clara. Lady Noir rubbed the back of her neck as she looked to the side. "Sorry I wasn't..."

 "You're not bad, kitten," He replied, smiling a little as Clara blinked and looked around before noticing the heroes.

 "Anatis?! Lady Noir?!" She gasped as Anatis helped her to her feet. "What are you doing here?"

 "You were akumatized," He stated gently. "But it's ok now,"

 "I was saved by both of you!!" She gasped, spinning around. "Oh this is a dream come true!"

 Lady Noir giggled and walked over.

 "I have an idea for your video if you're interested,"

 ~Later that Night~

 "Can I ask a favor, Annie?" Lady Noir asked as they sat on top of the Arc de Triomphe. They had finished up their patrol for the night and were just enjoying the evening while sharing a bag of cookies. He looked over at her and nodded. "Could.. could you teach me to dance?..."

 For a moment, he was quite and she thought he was going to say no before he put down the cookie he was eating.

 "Well, I don't know if I'm the best to teach you," He replied, standing up before holding his hand to her. "But I'll try,"

 She smiled and took his hand, following him to the middle. 

 "Ok, place your hand here," He stated, putting her hand on his shoulder before taking her hand in his before placing his spare hand on her waist. "Now step back,"

 She did as he stepped forward before stepping to the side then back then to the side again before repeating it.

 "One, two, three, four," He counted as they did before he spun her, making her laugh a little before they continued to dance. Lady Noir found herself leaning against him slightly but when to stop and apologizing but he gave her a soft smile. She smiled back and continued to dance with him under the moonlight and stars.

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

Next Chapter: Coming Soon

[rhapshie]

This was from a writing challenge I had in my discord server a while back. Never really shared it outside, so I thought I’ll throw it here. I don’t think I’ll ever post it on my AO3

Title: - Rating: M Pairing: Aomine/Kagami TW: Suicide. The other dies in the end too but due to an unrelated incidence.

17 January.

Am I okay? I feel like I'm falling back down. I never knew how much I like his presence until he's not there anymore.

.

Kagami was pretty sure he was in love.

But no one should take his word for it. After all, he didn't know the first thing about romance, so this could just be a stupid infatuation for all he knew, but he really couldn't help it. Aomine was... unreal. He was convinced that the Touou player wasn't human because how could someone be so dazzling? It didn't even matter that he had such a cocky attitude. If anything, it made everything that much better.

Because what was wrong with confidence when he had the skill to back it up? Besides, Kagami found that kind of sexy.

In fear of his own emotion, he hid.

Over the course of his second year, he slowly grew more and more distant from Aomine after convincing himself that this was for the best. It would be much easier on his heart if he never confessed, therefore he'd never get rejected.

That didn't stop him from pining from afar, though.

.

21 March.

Satsuki suspects that something's up but I really don't wanna worry her more than I already do.

.

It all happened too quickly and too suddenly.

Kagami was eighteen years old, attending the last year of high school in Seirin when he felt something was amiss. Initially, he ignored it, thinking that the sudden throbbing in his heart was just his imagination and he continued playing basketball. Interhigh was just around the corner and their first opponent was Touou, so he couldn't afford to get distracted.

However, the nausea persisted throughout the night. Kagami tossed and turned in his bed as he wondered what could possibly cause such agitation. Cold sweat ran along his back as he forced himself to get some shut-eye only to finally succeed at too-late o'clock.

Something was seriously not right, but he couldn't pinpoint what exactly.

.

1 April

I hate this. I don't know what the point is anymore. There's only so much that basketball can numb and I'm fucking hurting all over. I don't know how to reconnect with Tetsu and the others and I damn well don't wanna go to Kagami. Where is he anyway? Haven't seen him around lately...

.

Aomine wasn't there for their match.

And he wasn't the only one absent either. The spot next to Harasawa where Momoi usually sat was empty and the entirety of Touou seemed extremely distracted. Their focus was at an all-time low and they looked uncharacteristically distracted. Was it simply because of their missing ace? Kagami had a feeling that it was something else entirely. Judging from Kuroko's body language that conveyed discomfort, the redhead grew more certain that something else was gnawing on them.

No one wanted to tell him where Aomine was. They all simply turned their heads the other way and walked away, frustrating Kagami to no end. While he knew that they didn't look like the best buddies, he respected the other power forward. Kagami would go as far as to admit that he had a massive crush on Aomine.

Of course, it wasn't something he'd say out loud. In fact, instead of acting on it, he chose to stay as far away as possible. He figured that if he never showed any affection, he wouldn't have to get rejected. Better safe than sorry. Aomine looked like he was far from gay, so Kagami wanted to spare himself the heartache.

He knew he had no right to pry, but he felt like he deserved to know why Aomine didn't come.

.

13 May

All I do is hurt everyone near me even when they're just trying to help. Maybe it's better if I don't ask for help... It'll just be a pain in the ass. At the end of the day, it's my problem. I got no rights dragging other people into it, especially after what I've done. I'm so fucking tired. I'm so sick of feeling like this. If it wasn't for basketball, I... maybe I'd be long dead or something. Guess I'll have no choice but to keep playing.

.

Gone.

He was gone.

There was a deafening ringing in Kagami's ears when Momoi broke the news that Aomine had passed away. He had overdosed on paracetamol the night before the match. His parents were away on a business trip, so he wasn't found until Momoi broke into her childhood friend's place and saw Aomine's unconscious body in the kitchen. His skin was pale, deathly blue and icy cold.

Kagami didn't know what to say or how to react, so he only stood there.

He didn't cry. He couldn't.

.

11 June

I can't sleep. My head hurts. It's so pathetic but I feel so lonely... I still haven't told anyone, but I think I really should see a psychologist.

.

In the coffin lied Aomine's dead body. His silky blue hair was neatly brushed and there was no crease on his forehead. It was an unfamiliar sight for Kagami who could only stare at the man who would never again look at him with his electric navy eyes. Kagami would never again face him in a heated battle, would never again scream or be screamed at. There would be none of that infuriating lopsided smirk, that mocking laughter or the obsolete 'the only one who can beat me is me'.

He should be happy to finally be rid of Aomine's cocky attitude, but he wasn't.

Because it meant he would never see Aomine in his raw form, glistening in sweat and the joy of a child as he played the sport he loved ever again, nor one of his rare sincere smiles. There would be none of that husky voice haunting him at night when he only had his right hand as a company. Soon, the seat that Aomine occupied in Maji burger when they had dinner with the rest of the Generation of Miracles would be empty.

Kagami once again stared at the man who'd never again open his eyes. He looked so peaceful in death, unlike how he usually carried himself when he was alive and breathing.

And that was what hurt Kagami the most.

.

19 June

I can't do this anymore. No matter where I look, I don't see anyone who can help me. Besides, it's embarrassing to talk to them about this... shit. And I don't have money for psychologists either. Why are they so expensive? I sure as hell can't ask mum and dad because they'll end up grilling me about it.

.

In the months following Aomine's death—suicide, Kagami felt empty.

They found a journal under the man's pillow that detailed his slow spiral into depression. While he had his good days and things looked promising a couple of years ago when he finally regained the love of basketball that he thought he had lost forever, it didn't last.

He thought about all the missed opportunities that metastasised into regrets. There were multiple occasions when he was able to lend a helping hand, but all he ever did was chicken out. He was too scared of his own feelings for Aomine that he ended up running away.

Kagami wondered if he had talked more to him, he'd still be here right now. Maybe he was part of the reason why Aomine killed himself.

.

1 July

I'm getting really worried... The voices in my head won't stop. Earlier I had to call Satsuki just so I can talk to someone. I don't wanna worry her... I really don't. But between her and my parents... I guess I don't have a choice.

.

They said time healed all wounds, but Kagami started to suspect that maybe some wounds were simply too deep to ever disappear.

It had been too many years since Aomine's untimely death and he could barely remember the guy's face or voice anymore, but it never hurt any less when he remembered the arrogant Touou ace.

"Papa!"

Kagami looked away from the newspaper on his hand when he heard his little girl running towards him with glee. Her fingers were stubby and she was still unbalanced on her feet. The sight never ceased to warm his heart.

Despite living with his beautiful wife that he didn't deserve, Kagami never really truly let go of his past. He'd done well concealing it, but he knew that his wife suspected that something was up.

There were lingering what-if's spinning in his head. If he had asked Aomine for a one-on-one that evening, maybe none of this would ever happen. Maybe right now, they'd be living together with a child of their own. Or maybe they'd still be friends, rivals, whatever. 

Maybe if they celebrated their birthdays together, maybe if Kagami gave him that box of homemade chocolate hiding in his fridge for valentine's, maybe if they spent one more day together in Maji's, maybe Aomine would still be alive right now. Even if they ended up drifting apart or hated each other's guts, it would be much better than this.

It was stupid to wallow in regret, he knew.

However, the diary that Momoi insisted he kept burned a hole in the nightstand. It was a grim reminder of his failure; of his cowardice that cost him the one person he wanted to see smile.

.

6 August

What would he say if he were here?

Where did he go, seriously... it's been so long since we've last met or talked.

I guess it's the interhigh soon. Maybe I'll see him again then.

.

He didn't even know when he started to grow such intense feelings for Aomine. For years he searched, but could never really pinpoint the exact time.

"Kagami-kun, it's time to go." Kuroko gently put a hand on the door and glanced at his old friend with a pair of sympathetic eyes that turned even more mellow when he saw the worn diary on Kagami's lap. "Don't you think you've carried this weight enough?"

The redhead stared at the wrinkly paper before he put it neatly in his suitcase on top of his clothes. "I'll carry it to my grave."

"It wasn't your fault." Said the lithe male with a monotone voice, but full of sadness for those who knew him.

Maybe if Kuroko actually read through the diary, he'd change his mind, Kagami thought.

.

12 August

I really wanna tell him how much I like talking to him.

This is so stupid.

I texted him but he never replied. It's been 3 weeks.

Maybe he hates me now.

.

He knew that one of these days, he'd get himself in a pickle he'd never get out of. Today so happened to be one of those days.

Regardless of what would happen, he was happy that he had divorced his wife and she had the custody of their daughter. As for his friends... well, they'd live. Everyone knew what being a firefighter would entail. Lots of rescuing cats from the tree, fetching lost keys from the gutters, running into a burning building and in some cases...

Death.

Yeah, that was a thing too.

With a forced laughter, Kagami curled his head under his chest to avoid inhaling more smoke than he already did. However, all openings were sealed and he had nowhere else to go.

He really should've chosen another path. NBA, for one. By now, he'd probably be past his prime. 35 years old. He'd be retired with a lot of money. Definitely more than he would ever get by working as a firefighter.

As the fire licked the space around him and burnt wood toppling down from the ceiling, Kagami waited for the moment when one would crush him and put him out of his misery. Or maybe his friends would come in and drag him out.

"...gami..."

The redhead lied on his stomach, eyes glassy as he watched the building structure crashed down all around him.

"Oi, Bakagami! How long are you gonna sulk for?"

"I'm not sulking..." He mumbled under his breath. "...Ahomine."

Ah, yeah. That was what he sounded like. Low, husky and seductive voice that he couldn't get enough of.

"C'mon, let's play." Those lips upturned into a grin and even though the rest of his face was obscured by the light, Kagami could clearly see beautiful deep blue eyes and frown lines on his forehead. "You were the one who bugged me, so just get up already."

"You're not an early riser, idiot. Why are you so—" he coughed after a particularly nasty inhale," so eager..."

"Hurry or I guess we won't play. I'll give you five minutes."

"Five minutes? I'll whoop your ass in three." He snorted inbetween his coughing fit.

"After all that talk you're just gonna lie there? I know you only had like, 3 hours sleep, but I thought you've been looking forward to this."

He felt his eyes slowly closing.

"Daiki..." He heaved tiredly. A piece of wood fell on his thigh and he bit out a scream when it charred his protective gear. Even through it, he felt the deathly heat. "I—Argh!" He didn't even know what the fuck that was but he was pretty sure it crushed his left leg. "I'm sorry. I'll be there soon."

"Fine," The light slowly eased as Aomine's head blocked the source of light to create a halo. Tanned skin, boyish grin and eyes that were positively brimming with life. "I'll wait for you."

.

15 August

If there's a life after death.

I wonder if they play basketball?

If they do, maybe I'll get to play with him again one day.

[haosvteen]

I Found You | soulmate seventeen series

a/n: this is my first traditionally written imagine i’m posting here, so i hope you like it!! i’m a little bit nervous to post, so please let me know how you like it :)

minghao x reader | soulmate seventeen

~ - fluff

word count: 3.2k

main masterlist

All you could focus on is the ticking of the clock and the tapping of your pencil on the worn-out wooden desk. No matter how hard you tried to tune into your professor’s monotone voice lecturing about string theory, your mind kept wandering elsewhere. Literally anywhere else. At first, you started thinking about why you had to take this class anyway. It didn’t have anything to do with your major, so what was the point? But as soon as that thought came, it went, and you were trying to decide where to get lunch after the unnecessarily long class ended.

Leaning down to your side and reaching into your backpack on the floor, you pulled out a brown leather-bound notebook. Running your fingers over the intricate gold designs adorning the spine, admiring the swirls and flowers, you placed it on your desk and flipped it open. Gliding your pencil across the unlined, seemingly old paper, you wrote “What do I get for lunch? My stomach is about to grumble in class”.

You run a hand through your hair with a sigh and look back up at your professor, once again trying to figure out what he is attempting to explain. One-dimensional strings? Quantum gravity? It meant nothing to you. Thankfully, Hao had been helping you almost every night. Honestly, you felt a little bad because he was trying his hardest to make it simple for you, but the content was essentially impossible to understand. Your brain just doesn’t seem to cooperate when it comes to physics.

Looking back down at the notebook below you, you received a response: “What about that pizza place you like down the street from your apartment?”. Just the thought of the greasy slice of goodness makes your stomach emit an audible grumble, causing several heads near you to turn your way, judgmental looks behind their eyes. After taking a moment to apologetically smile at them and deal with your embarrassment, you jot on the paper, “Hao, you’re a genius how do you always know what I want?”.

Almost as quickly as you finished writing your sentence, you see Hao’s handwriting appear letter by letter on the page. “It’s because I’m your soulmate, duh”. You lean your head on your hand and smile to yourself, noticing the students around you start packing up their books and leaving the room, signaling to you that class had finished.

After closing all of your books and stuffing them in your backpack, you slung a strap on your shoulder and started to make your way out of the classroom. Before you had the opportunity to escape into the hallway, your professor called to you, “Ms. Y/L/N, would you mind seeing me for a moment?”

Slowly turning around, you made your way up to the front of the classroom where he was wiping down the blackboard for the next class. It felt as if you were walking to the gallows due to the tone of his beckoning. “Yes, sir?”, you asked, curious as to what this may be about. Had he noticed you weren’t paying attention? That you were writing in your soulmate journal?

“As you know, final exams are coming up and I am concerned about your final grade in this class. In order to pass, you need to earn at least an 85% or higher on the final,” he nonchalantly said, not even bothering to make eye contact with you as he began to pack up.

You knew that you were not the best at physics, but you did not realize your grade was so low. That you would basically have to eat, sleep, and breathe the subject until the end of the term. “I’m so sorry, is there any extra credit I could possibly do? I’ve been trying my best, it’s just that-“, before you had the opportunity to finish your statement, he had cut you off.

“You haven’t been trying your best, though. Far too often I see you writing away in that notebook of yours and I highly doubt your taking notes.” You didn’t even know what to say in response to that because he was right. You weren’t taking notes. But could you be blamed for wanting to talk with your soulmate? Somewhere along the way since your 16th birthday, you and Hao discovered that you lived in different time zones so there were only certain times of the day you could talk to each other…one of those times just happened to be during this class. If only your professor understood this.

As if the gruff man in front of you read your mind, he continued, “I am assuming that is your soulmate journal?” Silently giving a small nod, you internally cringed for what was to come because based on the raised eyebrow and demeaning glare, it could not be good. “You know all of that’s bullshit right?”. Your jaw slightly dropped because you were not expecting that to come from your professor’s mouth.

“Statistically only 32% of people actually end up with their ‘soulmate’? No one even understands the technology of these journals or where they come from. Researchers haven’t been able to find conclusive evidence of the accuracy of these journals. The odds are higher that you will end up with someone in this class rather than whomever you are speaking to through those pieces of paper. I suggest you keep this in mind for the remainder of the semester,” your professor concluded and hastily marched out of the classroom.

You are dumbfounded. You didn’t know what your professor wanted to see you about, but in no way did you suspect that. Alright, maybe you suspected him addressing you about your poor grade, but that rant? Probably would have been the last thing you guessed. After overcoming the initial shock of the encounter you just were on the receiving end of, you shook your head and finally left the room.

Walking down the street to your favorite pizza place (as Hao suggested), you couldn’t stop thinking about everything your professor said. Was it really true that only 32% of people end up with their soulmate? And now that you thought about it, having someone’s writing showing up in some magical journal you get on your 16th birthday seems a little impractical too.

After taking a seat at the small pizzeria, you took a bite, the cheese stretching, and about to fall off the slice. You wiped your greasy fingers off on a napkin before pulling out your soulmate journal to write to Hao, telling him his suggestion was an excellent choice.

While waiting for his response, you decided to do a little bit more research about the probability of soulmates ending up together. With a simple google search, thousands of articles came up about the illegitimacy of the journals, however, there were equally as many describing the validity of them while recounting people’s personal positive experiences.

After reading article after article, you couldn’t help but question if you would actually end up with Hao. You’d never had to think about it before. Your whole life, you had always been told: “whoever you write to in your soulmate journal is who you will find true love with and be forever happy”. You didn’t have a reason to question it either because you love Hao. Even though you had never seen him, you knew that you love him.

Your parents were connected through the soulmate journal and found each other, so they raised you to believe that the same would happen for you. The difference is that your parents had known each other since they were six years old. It was easier for them. You didn’t even know where Hao was from. You had your guesses considering his timezone, but you really knew nothing else. The journal would erase writing that held personal information (which sounds kind of…magical? but everyone has a notebook in which they can speak to their soulmate, so who’s to judge when that is an aspect of your world). When you first got your journal, you immediately wrote in it, providing your social media handles so your soulmate could find you. However, with every letter you wrote, they disappeared twice as fast.

There were many sleepless nights you complained to your friends about how hard it was because you just wanted to find him. You just wanted to be able to see his face. Hear his voice. Almost everyone you knew found their soulmates easily, but you were what felt like the only one left without your soulmate. Especially one on the other side of the world.

Becoming so wrapped in your thoughts, you picked up your pen again and wrote in the journal, “Hey…have you ever thought that we maybe…won’t end up together?”.

“What do you mean? Of course, we will end up together. We’re soulmates. That’s the whole purpose of this journal,” Minghao responded.

“I know, I know, but my professor just told me some stuff today. It’s stupid and I know I shouldn’t even worry about it, but he said that only 32% of people actually end up with their soulmate,” you explained. Sitting up in your seat, you started to get a little anxious. You know that Hao hated talking about this stuff.

“Y/N, I’ve told you this so many times before. We will find each other. I will find you. Don’t listen to the statistics,”. As you see the words appear on the paper in front of you, you can’t help but think…what if? What if you don’t find each other. Taking a moment to logically think about it, there is really no definitive way to track the other down. It all happens by chance.

As you placed your pen on the paper, about to write back, Hao’s handwriting appeared again. “I don’t want you to worry about this. The universe wants us together. It will find a way.”

With a sigh, you simply responded, “You’re right, I’ll talk to you later” and quickly drew a heart. You closed the journal, hoping it would help the thoughts leave your head, but you couldn’t stop the constant what-ifs running through your mind for the next days.

During that time, you did more research and truly discovered statistically how low the chances are that you will find your soulmate. There are 7.5 billion people in the world, what are the odds you find your person?

Things between you and Hao were never really the same after that.

It started out slowly. You would happen to forget your journal at home when you went out and instead of running back to get it (like you usually would), you didn’t bother. There were days that turned into weeks where you wouldn’t write to Minghao at all. Every so often you would maybe leave a kind message telling him to have a good day, but there were no longer meaningful conversations between you two. You even started seeing other boys. If statistically, you were not going to end up with Minghao, it was okay to start looking elsewhere.

Having been raised on the idea that this person on the other end of the journal is who you will end up with, no ifs, ands, or buts about it, didn’t allow you to experience young love the way many people do. When you turned 16, all of your attention went immediately to Minghao…because you were 100% sure you would end up with him. Now that you knew the small likelihood of that actually happening, you allowed yourself to find happiness. Even if it wasn’t with your soulmate.

Not to say that you forgot about Minghao. You could never forget about Minghao. But no matter how much you wished that it would work between you two, you knew the reality of the situation.

Several years had gone by. You and Minghao would write to each other in your journals sometimes, but never at the same time. Typically, you would write a message every several months to update him about what was going on in your life and he would do the same. Even years later, you still regret leaving him the way you did. You cannot imagine what providing little to no explanation did to him, but you were young. You didn’t know how to handle it.

But now, your life was completely different from those years ago when your best friend was through a journal. You had a career that you loved, amazing and supportive friends…there wasn’t more you could ask for. Except that you still hadn’t found someone. You thought that it would be easier to find a boy to spend your life with, even if it wasn’t Minghao, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Everyone was just looking for people to hook up and have one-night-stands with as they waited to find their soulmate. No one had accepted the reality of the situation as you had. While some might say that you were being pessimistic, you liked to think of it as being logical.

It was 8:54am and you were stumbling all over your apartment in an attempt to get dressed while simultaneously pack your bag for work. You were sure that you set your alarm for 6:30am so you had ample time to prepare and have a relaxing morning before you had to leave to catch your train.  The image of the 6:30am alarm on your phone being switched on was ingrained in your mind, you knew you turned it on. Technology works in mysterious ways.

While tugging on the first appropriate shoes you found, you swung open the closet door that contained your sweatshirts that were still appropriate for work. This was your go-to when you were running late and today was definitely one of those days. As you swiftly opened the door, a book fell down from the top shelf. Your soulmate journal.

The panic of the morning immediately halted. It had been years since you had even looked at it. You shoved it away in a random box while moving to this city for your job and you honestly hadn’t thought about it since. While the memories of your conversations with Minghao flooded your mind, you decided to pack it in your bag. Maybe you would write to him while you were on your lunch break.

Grabbing the last of your items, you hurried out the door, trying to make it to the next scheduled train. As you exited your building and began running down the busy sidewalk to the train station, the crisp air whipped against your face. Your nose and ears were numb, but that was the least of your worries.

Your lungs felt like they were on the verge of exploding as you approached the train and saw the double doors sliding closed. “Hey!!! Someone hold the door!!! Please!!!”, you shout breathlessly, hoping to catch the attention of anyone inside the warm transport. To your luck, someone heard you and stuck their hand outside. Little did they know they were saving you from having to wait another 30 minutes for a train.

As you quickened your pace to enter the train, you smiled at the man who held the doors open for you, “Thank you so much, if it weren’t for you I would even more late for work than I am now”.

“No problem,” he said while making his way to a seat. Taking a moment to smooth out your hair, you followed behind him trying to find a place of your own. After looking around, the only one you found available was right across from that same man.

You looked at your watch and couldn’t help but watch the seconds and minutes tick away, making you more and more late for work. Stealing you from your trance, your phone began ringing. Noticing that it was your boss, you couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh.

Before you had the opportunity to say hello, he was screaming into your ear, “Y/N where are you?! We need you here now!! This is unacceptable behavior.”

“I understand, I apologize. I’m on my way, sir. I will be there as fast as I can,” you responded, trying to keep your cool. After some more several unkind words, your boss hung up the phone. Running your hands over your face, you look up to see the man sitting opposite you, staring at you with wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth. You gave him a small smile and looked away, trying to ignore the look he continued to give you.

“Y/N?” you heard him say.

“Oh, me?” you questioned, to ensure that he was talking to you. Hopefully whatever he has to say won’t take too long because the train was due to stop in three minutes and you had to get off immediately.

He responds with a nod, eyes still as wide as a deer in headlights, “I’m Minghao”.

With that, your expression imitated his. Minghao? As in your Minghao?

“Wait, I don’t understand. You’re here?” you asked because last time you read a message from him in the journal, he hadn’t moved or mentioned traveling. Well…the last time you had touched the journal was years ago.

Minghao quickly moved to rummage in his bag. After a few moments, he pulled out a brown leather-bound notebook…with gold designs on the spine…swirls and flowers.

Before you knew what you were doing, you also began to dig in your bag for your soulmate journal…that happened to fall out of your closet today…that you wouldn’t have opened if your alarm would have gone off…

You immediately opened the old journal for the first time in years. The first words you see are, “I found you”.

Looking up at Hao, tears began to form in your eyes. You hadn’t admitted it to yourself, but it had been so hard without him. It’s like whenever you weren’t with him, everything was so much worse. Even if you only knew each other through the soulmate journal.

The train came to a screeching stop and the people around you began standing and exiting to the station, but you two remained seated. There were some people giving you some strange looks, but they didn’t realize that two people who were meant to be together had finally met. That you and Hao had met.

“I’ve looked everywhere for you,” Hao said as he stood up. “I told you I would find you.”

You couldn’t help yourself, but run up and wrap your arms around him. The arms you wanted to hold you since you were 16. You could finally feel him. Hear his voice. See his face. You could be with him. Not just through pieces of bound paper.

You pulled away from him and looked up into his eyes. Your cheeks were tear-stained, but you couldn’t help it. “We are not a statistic,” Hao softly whispered. His eyes flicked from yours, down to your lips. He moved his hands up to your face, using his thumbs to wipe the tears that won’t stop cascading down your cheeks. He leaned into you slowly, softly pressing his lips to yours.

“I found you,” Hao said so only you could hear, as he leaned his forehead against yours.

He found you.

[mooncruiser]

Heyy!! I’ve been meaning to pin my testimony, so here it is :)

So, my life wasn’t really the greatest growing up. I mention C-PTSD in my bio, and that’s what I’ll get into a bit. I’ll try not to be too graphic, but I can’t guarantee it’ll be totally safe.

There were some questionable things in my toddler years, a neglectful daycare center for 3 months, my dad being in and out of my life due to fear of getting attached at first, him flying off the handle once with me (my mom got on him for it, so it never happened again) but I think the trauma started with my cousins leaving me stuck out in a baby swing twice, a near death experience with a dog bite, and a homicidal attempt on me and my mom by my sister, who was 16 at the time (I’m 5 years old). 

There was also the dog cage incident I believe at…6 years old? Me and my brother were playing and he forgot me on accident. I pretty much accepted at this point that life was gonna chain me up and try to kill me lol, but it let up for a good while, and I had a pretty decent childhood. At 9 years old, there was the torturously loud school program in the gym I had to sit through for 2 hours, I think. 

It was at 10 when things became chronically ongoing. Domestic violence at home from my sister (physical, emotional abuse on me and my family), more physical and emotional abuse at school from my assistant teacher because I was on an IEP for my autism. At 11, I was sexually abused by my female friend who was 12, and her female cousin, who was 13. I was abandoned by my cousins and aunt, and I was being placed in a seclusion room at school during standardized tests (which was sensory deprived solitary confinement) even after I was finished for the day. At 12 years old, I started being emotionally neglected by my mother.

I mean, I was so angry and depressed and secretly suicidal at 10, but by 12 I was severely dissociating (I had been dissociating during trauma at various times prior). I had so much fear and anxiety that by the time I was 13 I’d be feeling like passing out 24/7, so I got on meds, which only helped the more severe physical symptoms, I guess. 

At 13, I started being groomed by this high school girl that liked me. She was a Sophomore, and I was in 7th grade. She noticed the neglect and told me she knew me better. She would give me gifts, teach me to ship gay pairings, gave me a gay pedophilic manga. Shamelessly told me she had sexual relations with her male cousin and his friends who were around my age. I blocked it out. 

I also had a very abusive friendship with a girl online who had BPD. My assistant teacher, who came with me to middle school, restrained and tortured me with the marching band’s loud music in the hallway, which only intensified my dissociative symptoms (I was actually switching alters at this point regularly and having no idea).

I remember at 13 being confused about my gender and sexuality. My mom was no help and just wanted me to hide it from my family and everyone else, for reputation purposes and she didn’t want me bullied. That was actually how I decided to get in contact with my grooming abuser, which I wonder at this point whether that was my fault. I didn’t expect her to really take over like she did, but I was essentially brainwashed into accepting whatever I was feeling for her benefit. I just wanted advice and a friend. 

I was so lonely, I had been desperate for friends for years, and I was desperate for someone to love me in any way, honestly. I was overeating. I’d spend hours daydreaming, in video games or entertainment to escape from school and everything else. During meltdowns, I’d be doing self injurious behaviors. 

So by 14, I come out as a lesbian. Had a couple relationships with girls who just saw me as a sexual object (I remember saying yes to sexual things even though I didn’t want to, just so that they wouldn’t abandon me. Dissociating off and finding it disgusting), would cheat on me with multiple people, ignore me for new friends, etc. 

The BPD friend I dated, when I broke up with her, immediately attempted suicide so that scarred me more into our trauma bond. She’d show me self harm pics she took from time to time. It scared me into making sure I didn’t trigger her again, but u know I never knew what triggered her in the first place, so, like with everything else, I had no strategy to life. It was either fight, run, dissociate or nod yes to everything. She took up the latter lol. 

I came out as trans my Freshman year, and stayed that way into my Sophomore year. I was bitter about dating because of the whole sexual object thing, and full of shame at the same time, thinking no one would want me. I thought I was asexual. I tried out a career high school honestly just to get away from the memories of my old school. 

Some feelings about being trans started to fade, but not entirely, so I went by genderfluid/genderqueer from 17-19. I was excited to make new friends at my new school, but my anxiety kept me from it. I opened up very awkwardly about my dating history to one girl (which tbh I shouldn’t have, but I had been brainwashed so lol) and she told all the girls in my lab, and I was excluded and bullied (and cyberbullied) from thereon. 

I didn’t know it at first, it was so subtle. But once I knew, I tried standing up for myself and told the principal, which made them leave me alone for the most part. They’d glare at me, use me at graduation, cyberbully me one last time 8 months after graduation, and that was it. I still had to deal with domestic violence until I was 22, but once I graduated everything pretty much hit me.

I knew I’d be too stressed out to go to college or work. School indoctrination tried to teach me to be neurotypical and expect this, but it wasn’t happening. I was too afraid to leave my house for a year, and too afraid to be honest online for fear of being watched and bullied, or stalked. I was seriously considering suicide down the line. I thought I had nothing left to live for. I was useless. Nobody cared. Friends moved on to their new lives and I was dying. 

That’s when Jesus stepped in.

I guess I started being curious about God again for the first time since I was 12. I always believed in God, was grateful to Him for being there for me during the domestic violence and never blamed Him for it. I found out about worship music and was thrilled, and a question came up. Was being gay a sin? My grooming abuser taught me that God made me gay, so it was alright. But I wanted to know for sure this time from the Word. 

To my surprise, she was wrong. The Bible said it was indeed, a sin (the practice, not so much the identity aspect). I couldn’t piece together why, so I struggled with it for months. On my 20th birthday however, when I got done creating fanart of a gay pairing, I felt strongly convicted by the Holy Spirit that it was wrong. So I went to God.

I said, “If it is wrong, please change me so I can make You happy, because I love You. In the meantime, I won’t do anything in support of it for a while. If it’s not wrong, don’t change me, and I’ll know which way is right because I trust You.” When I look back on it, it was a pretty crazy prayer. Lots of people have said they couldn’t “pray the gay away”, and I do wonder what the difference was with me.

After 3 months, I stopped to check if I still felt anything, and the feelings were gone. My gender dysphoria was gone, too. I was way too afraid to tell anybody yet, but I remember when I did, one of the first people I told was my grooming abuser. 

She was livid, tried one last time to intimidate me. Another time we crossed paths (she came out of nowhere saying hi, said she worked at that market, complimented me and walked away smiling) and I was triggered, I messaged her and told her how she hurt me and I couldn’t bear to be around her anymore, but I hoped she’d have a good life. She didn’t respond online, but she complained to my sister that I thought she was a predator, and by the end of the conversation tries to get her to tell me she said hi. When she had kids, she was planning on raising them to be nonbinary. Her husband was abusive to them, so she ended up losing them. She never bugged me again. 

I was blown away by how God had changed me. How He opened my eyes to the truth. I prayed for Him to open my eyes to whatever else I had been blind to, and He slowly began lifting off the amnesia surrounding all my traumas, urging me towards recovery with Him. I realized I might have OSDD-1b recently as well, which is strange that I could have possibly had DID prior to losing my amnesia? 

I have been on this journey ever since, journaling, blogging, researching, and finally in a wonderful therapy called EMDR where I truly release the traumas from my body, hear God’s new positive beliefs to replace old negative ones from my childhood, and experience loving extraordinary visions while processing that teach me to focus on Jesus, trust Him more, love and pray for my enemies, and have a real satisfying relationship with Him that’s unattainable with anyone on Earth, along with daily Bible study. 

The picture on the left was me at 16 in my old life, the one on the right is me in my new creation :) God bless all of you, thank you for reading this far 💕💖

[wanderinginksplot]

Clone Trooper Rambles

Part journal, part creative writing, fully weird. Also, this one is really long. Other rambles can be found here.

Bad Dream

“Hey, are you okay?” Echo asked gently, stepping a bit faster to walk beside me.

“Yeah, of course,” I told him with a smile. “Why do you ask?”

“You haven’t spoken in an hour and a half,” Trapper answered for Echo, walking on his other side. 

“Oh.” I thought about it for a moment. “I think I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“You don’t say,” Crosshair said sourly. “I thought you made a habit of waking up gasping at three in the morning.”

“It was an unusually vivid dream,” I admitted, embarrassed for a reason I couldn’t quite pin down.

“Do you remember any of it?” Echo asked, stepping over a rough section of ground.

“Not much, but there was one thing…” I shivered, but cut myself off with a laugh. “It’s probably nothing.”

“What is?” Crosshair sounded less than thrilled to be asking, but all of the troopers eyed me expectantly. 

I frowned, scrubbing tiredly at my face. “Uh… I remember someone laughing.”

“Laughing?” Trapper repeated. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“You wouldn’t think so,” I agreed slowly. “And then this guy told me, ‘He’s looking for you. He’s going to find you. You can’t hide from him.’ That sort of thing.”

“Who can’t you hide from?” Echo’s posture had straightened slightly. 

I shook my head. “Probably no one. I was reading something mysterious before I went to sleep and that probably caused it.”

“You look… scared,” Trapper observed hesitantly. “Are you sure you have no idea who the guy was talking about? Or who the guy was?”

“It could be- Well, not really, though. The guy talking was…” I thought back, trying to capture the wispy strands of the dream even as it was slipping away as half-remembered dreams tend to do. Like a camera flash, I could see the face of the man who had been warning me. 

I didn’t know him, not that I could remember, but he was certainly dead. Not only that, but his mouth had been strange, almost like it had been cut.

“Miss me, sweets?” a voice whispered in my ear.

I jumped, hard. I couldn’t help it. 

“What is it?” Echo asked urgently.

I was already absorbed in studying the immediate area. “Hang on, I need to concentrate,” I muttered absently.

Metaphysics are hard to explain. In this particular case, it was like scanning everything around me, but not visually. I was looking for a general sense of something, a trace rather than a person. It took quite a bit of focus, but the adrenaline was working in my favor.

“We need to call Captain Rex,” Trapper said decisively.

“I’ll do it,” Crosshair instantly agreed, lifting his comlink to his mouth even as he eyed the area with suspicion.

Dimly, I recognized that the three troopers had all put their helmets on, and both Echo and Crosshair had lowered their rangefinders. Each man held at least one blaster, scanning the area with their eyes at least as hard as I was doing with whatever metaphysical nonsense I could manage.

When Rex joined us, he did so at a brisk walk, dual blasters drawn and rangefinder down. Clearly, Crosshair had managed to brief him on the situation. What he knew of it, anyway.

“What’s going on?” Rex asked, clearly tense.

“We were talking about the dream she had last night,” Echo told him. “She jumped like she had been shot and she hasn’t said much or moved at all since.”

Rex was standing directly in front of me a moment later. “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I can,” I told him distantly. “Hang on…”

“We need to move somewhere more protected than this,” Rex told the troopers, seeming to recognize that I was absorbed in something else. “Send out an all-call, put all troopers on alert.”

“For what?” Crosshair asked.

“There’s a threat,” Rex answered grimly. “I don’t know what it is yet, but I can feel it.”

I finished scanning the area and nodded. “Let’s get somewhere a little more private. There are some things I probably should tell you.”

Rex had already started moving by the time I finished speaking, the contingent of guards traveling with us as we walked. “I’m going to have Cody, Wolffe, Fox, Boss, and Hunter meet us. They’ll need to be briefed on the situation as well.”

In a very short amount of time, we were all hidden away in a semi-secluded area. Everyone wore their helmets, but I could feel the expectant looks and took a deep breath before I got started. 

“I’ve told you guys that you aren’t the first group of characters who shows up for me. Almost every story I’ve written has been with a character talking in my ear. Well, there was one… he wasn’t… uh, he wasn’t good for me, I guess you’d say. He’s called the Joker.”

No one moved, so I kept talking. “I was writing a one-shot about him and it went pretty smoothly. He’s insane, but he can be charming when he wants to be. When it gives him an advantage. Well, I wrote it and posted it and there was a good response. People wanted more and he agreed to help me write more of the story.”

“That’s where things went bad,” I said, dropping my gaze to the ground. It was easier than looking anyone in the face when I admitted my own stupidity. “He was always around, saying and doing the most twisted things. The more I wrote for him, the more I started to think like him. I don’t have much experience with insanity - other than the whole character thing - but I think I was getting close to something bad happening to my mind.”

“The worst part is, I can’t even blame him,” I laughed as I said it, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I knew who he was and that he thinks it’s fun to make people go as crazy as he is. I knew better, but I got caught up in writing a good story. It was more my fault than his.”

“When I figured out what was happening, I ended the story,” I finished. “There were supposed to be five more chapters or so, but I couldn’t keep writing for him. I was scared of losing myself. I ended the story and shut him out. It was hard, probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but the worst part is that it didn’t entirely… work. He still pops up every now and then.”

“Pops up,” Rex repeated tonelessly.

“Yeah,”I agreed. “He just comes in, torments me for a while, tries to break my mind, and leaves when I can force him away. It has happened three or four times in the past few years. I just need to know when he’s coming so I can be ready. The dream may have been a sign that he’ll be here soon. Don’t worry, though - I’ll handle him. You guys just lay low for a week or two and I’ll get him out as soon as I can.”

“We aren’t going to do that,” Cody said slowly, glancing around at the other commanding officers. “We’re here. We may be able to put a stop to this guy once and for all.”

“You can’t do that,” I told him flatly. “I don’t think any of you guys can be killed in your current state. If I do something that harms someone badly enough that they die - not that I do that on purpose - they just forget what they’ve done here and come back with no memory. They just start over.”

“We can give him something else to focus on, then,” Boss offered.

“Blaster bolts can be pretty distracting,” Wolffe agreed menacingly.

“He’ll try to kill you,” I warned them. “I can’t take the risk that anyone will get hurt.”

“You just said we can’t be hurt,” Hunter reminded.

I had to stop for a moment. That was an excellent point and a flaw in my logic that I hadn’t previously considered. “Maybe you guys can hurt each other since you’re in a different plane? If he’s on the same plane, he could hurt you.”

“But then we’d be able to hurt him,” Rex said. “And there are a lot more of us than there are of him.”

“Let us help you,” Cody requested gently. I shot him a look, reminded that he had served with Obi-Wan Kenobi for most of the war. “Please.”

“I… I can’t ask all of you to take this risk,” I said eventually.

“What if we made it a volunteer effort?” Fox asked. “Only men who understand the risks and agree to continue guard duty will watch for him.”

“That might work,” I agreed, disgruntled by the neat way that had worked out.

“Good,” Rex said. “Tell me everything about the Joker, I’ll brief the men about him, and build a list of volunteers. For now, I’m assigning at least one man from each battalion to guard you. Today is considered high-risk. If you see anything suspicious, tell them and we’ll send backup to your location.”

Less than two hours later, Rex cheerfully reported that every trooper had volunteered to stay on guard duty, even fully understanding the risks. My arguments that they couldn’t fully understand fell on deaf ears and I resigned myself to having extra guards for the foreseeable future. 

The only question was: who would end up guarding who?

---

A/N - So fun fact: this is a true story. I wrote a Joker/OC story called Safety Dance and ended up having to rush an ending because I was uncomfortable with the way it was making me think. I still get deeply uncomfortable when I see pictures of Jared Leto’s Joker and Safety Dance is, to date, the only story I will never consider writing a sequel for. 

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[babygirlkiki1016]

*Just a little fact, reader is originally from My Hero Academia, just letting y'all know so it makes more sense.*

They were chasing us and had no intention of stopping. We finally got ahold of Annie and Eren once more, but there was a problem. Titans were not even five feet behind the wagon, and one mess up everyone would be slaughtered. It was already hard enough with the heavy block of ice Annie used to protect herself. I knew what I had to do, I had to distract the Titans so humanity could be saved. A tear slipped down my cheek as I realized what was going to happen, but what did it matter? I was already heartbroken as it is, ever since that day. So what was the point of living anymore?

~~

I knocked on the wooden door, the one that leads to Levi's room.

"Come in." A rough voice spoke, that's probably him, well here goes nothing. Slowly I walked in, already regretting what I was about to say. Hanji told me earlier that week that Levi loved me, and I should tell him how I felt. I didn't believe her at first but I began to see the signs. Or so I thought, the smiles, the compliments, I thought they were all part of his way of telling me that...that he loves me.

"Levi?" I called, making him look up from his side table that he was cleaning. I gave him a small smile, "I wanted to talk to you about something." He stopped, curious of my actions he stepped closer setting down the cleaning supplies in his hand.

"What is it?" I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

"I-I...We haven't known each other for that long, but Hanji gave me some encouragement the other day. Levi, I'm afraid of what you're going to say...but I love you." His eyes widened as if I had told him some terrible news. He instantly glared at me, like I was the enemy.

"Get out." He growled, I didn't understand, Hanji told me he loved me. Why was he telling me to leave?

"Levi-" I reach out, touching his arm to try and see what was wrong, why he was sending me away but his hand connected with my cheek.

"I said get out!" The pain lingered, when I looked back he had no remorse. He didn't even look at me, tears now falling freely I walk to the door. "If you ever say something that stupid to me again, I won't hesitate to send you out into the front lines."

~~

Well, guess who's on the front lines now? I chuckled, wiping my tears. Ready to die within a second, I look to Mikasa who was watching the titans. This was it, and all I will be remembered for was some silly girl who had dreams. Who had a huge crush on the captain, that I wasn't worth anything. To some people I would be remembered for more than that, a hero maybe. Hesitantly I laid down my journal next to Eren's unconscious hand. Then I stood, unsheathing my blades, that caught Mikasa's attention.

"What are you doing?!" She demanded, I smiled and activated my quirk.

"What every hero does, Mikasa. Sacrifice..." I jumped off the wagon and zipped towards the first titan. My distraction made all of them stop in place, and of course, they reached for me.

"Y/n!" I could hear my friends screaming for me. But isn't this what a hero does? Sacrifice themselves for who they love? As fast as I could I killed one titan using my ability of flight. One down, a lot more to go, then the next one was a little harder. It almost grabbed me, but I dodged, slicing up its arm then finishing it off.

I killed as many as I could, then one grabbed me, I screamed in pain as it crushed my ribs. I won't go down without a fight, I cut off its fingers and kept going, Would I be able to make it home? There was still a lot of them, if I fly off now I might be able to make it back. Would I be able to? I'm injured, and could I even fly that high? As the next one went to grab me, I blinded it with one of my flash grenades. Then I made my escape, everything hurt but I had to keep going. I didn't make it, I didn't get as far as I thought I did. A titan smacked me to the ground, a normal person would've died but not me. I just skidded, I think everything was broken. I watched as Titans closed in around me. This was it, this was the end...Goodbye Levi...

Levi's Pov-

Where was she? Where is she? I searched for her, I saw everyone else. Mikasa, Eren, Connie, and Sasha but no Y/n.

"Oi!" I yelled, marching up to Mikasa who was holding Eren's hand. "Where is she?!" My heart was pounding, did she die? Is she lost? She just looked down, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"She did what a hero does Captain Levi," Connie muttered, he too was crying. "She sacrificed herself so we could get away." She...She couldn't be dead, no she couldn't be!! I looked over to Eren, who was just waking up, then over at Erwin. His arm was missing, but I could care less, I sprinted right for him, punching him in the jaw.

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" I sobbed as a few scouts held me back. "IF YOU HAD JUST LISTENED TO ME! IF YOU HAD JUST LET HER STAY! IF YOU JUST-" I couldn't handle it, I ran off and zipped up to the wall. I couldn't handle it, I had to be alone. She was gone, damn it! I should've been there! To protect her!...And most of all, I should have told her I loved her. I fell to my knees and screamed at the top of my lungs.

My throat burned, if Erwin had told her to stay here to help train the other cadets...She would be alive.

"I thought you didn't love her," Hanji said, sitting next to me, legs hanging off of the side. "Why do you care so much about her?"

"I only told her to leave...so I wouldn't get attached. Everyone I've ever loved had died one way another and considering she's from another world...I didn't want to fall for her, cause I knew I would lose her." This surprised her, for the first time in our friendship she put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"She wouldn't want you here grieving ya know. You what she would say if she was here?" I know exactly what she would say, she would sit right across from me and look into my eyes. I wouldn't look up at her, knowing I didn't protect her I would keep my eyes planted on the floor.

'It's ok Levi.' She would tell me. 'I'm in a better place, don't cry for me. You knew this was going to happen. This is what heroes do, they make sacrifices for the people that they love. And that includes you...' I would've scoffed, even ignored her cause who would want to think about their loved one dying?

"Levi, even though she did sacrifice herself. You know she would come back no matter what, just to see the smile on your face one last time."

"Hanji, after the way I treated her...I don't think she would want to come back this time. Who wants to come back to see the man who broke her heart?" The man who couldn't protect her?... The man who she thought didn't love her?

Y/n's Pov-

As the titans reached for me, I braced myself for death when I was blinded by a light. I looked around to see a dead soldier, but three blades, one had been currently used and the other two still new. The blade had reflected the sun's light, maybe I wasn't destined to die after all. I stumbled over, my hand on my bleeding stomach. Quickly I changed out my blades, then turned to look at how many more titans there were. Seven, ok, I can do this, I just have to focus. I stood, still wobbly but determined, the walls weren't that far behind me and as long as I kept fighting I would still be ok. One last time, I summoned my quirk, going beyond my limits. Just like All Might, who goes beyond his limits every day, I flew forward. Killing the smaller ones first, then as the bigger ones went to grab me I glided underneath their arms. Then struck when I could, finally after the seventh was dead I descended to the ground. I started for the walls, I would make it.

~~~

I finally made it home a day later, it was night time now. It was a good thing because since most titans can't move without sunlight, I was able to walk right past them without having to defend myself. Not wanting to bother anyone, nor would they hear me either if I shouted to open the gates I flew over the wall and as far as my body would take me. The scout headquarters weren't that far away, and most of them should be asleep by now. So let's hope I'll be able to surprise them tomorrow morning. As I expected, all the horses were asleep, and every light out. I couldn't wait till I fell into my bed, I could sleep for a whole day. Maybe even three, once I reached the door I pushed it open with all my strength. It creaked open slowly, and I barely was able to fit my body inside the crack I made.

"Y/n?" A voice quavered, I looked up to see Levi at the table, having a cup of tea while reading my journal that I left with Eren. He instantly stood and ran over. His arms wrapped around me tight, I grunted in pain which made him ease his grip a little. I laughed softly, I was finally home and knowing that I collapsed in his arms. The bleeding stopped hours ago but I think that tight squeeze might've started it again. He gently lowered me to the ground as he sobbed into my shoulder, why was he crying? "Your alive!" He exclaimed, "You're alive..."

"Levi..." I whispered, my voice still hoarse. "Let go of me." He pulled back, wondering if he had hurt me in anyway. He had, he had broken my heart, why would I want a hug who caused me pain?

"Did I hurt you?" I shook my head, but once he saw my wounds he pulled me close to him again. He tried to pick me up bridal style, but I pushed him away.

"I said, let go of me." He saw the hurt in my eyes, and understood. He understood that he caused me pain, but he still tried to help.

"Y/n you need help-" He lifted his hand, which made me flinch at the sight. Seeing that he let his hand fall back down to his side.

"I'll do it myself, just keep your hands off of me." After a few steps I fell, he gently picked me up bridal style, this time I didn't fight. He wouldn't stop no matter what, he took me upstairs to my room and set me down on the stool in the bathroom.

"Get undressed, and into the bath. I'll go get a few bandages." He disappeared out the door, I did as he told me and started the bath. The water was hot thank god, instantly I slipped in, enjoying the warmth. When he came back he stopped and stared. His cheeks burning red as he sat next to me, he mainly focused on cleaning me up.

"I can clean myself ya know." I growled as he massaged my head, scrubbing my hair with soap.

"You can barely stand, now let me take care of you." I scoffed, the rage I had set in my heart because of him only grew more.

"Why? It's not like you care about me, so why help me now? Why show that you care?" He didn't respond, instead he just kept giving me my bath. I had to admit it felt nice, I became more and more at ease. Yet my throat burned as I tried to hide my sobs, it was hard for me to see him. The more he helped me, the more I wished he loved me...but heroes don't always get happy endings do they? Once my bath was finished and I was all cleaned, he gave me a towel and waited outside the bathroom as I got dressed. He was sitting on my bed, head in his hands when I came out.

"Why did you do it?" He asked, looking me in the eye. "Why did you sacrifice yourself when you didn't have to!" He shouted, his eyes watery.

"Well you did tell me if I ever told you something stupid again you'd put me on the front lines...so I thought I'd do it for you." He stood abruptly, coming towards me at a face pace but stopped when he wasn't even 2 inches away.

"Why?..." He rested his hands on my upper arms, backing me up against the wall. "Why would you sacrifice yourself? You didn't have to! Why would risk your life?..."

"Because I didn't want to come back..." I muttered, he was stunned, "I didn't want to have to come back to see you. I didn't want to be in a world where the one I thought who loved me doesn't! I couldn't handle it, I couldn't...I didn't want to come home to you, because whatever nice things you say to me...it doesn't mean anything." He let go of me, backing away in utter disbelief, and just like that he left. He didn't come back that night to help me with my injuries, and I knew why, just like me he didn't want to face the thing he hated most.

~~~

Almost a week after I returned, life went back to normal. Well almost, everyone kept telling me thank you for what I did, and they helped me with most of my chores since I was still bruised. Levi on the other hand, he wouldn't talk to me, he couldn't even look at me. Just like before, he just doesn't care, and he never will.

"Y/n?" Hanji called, I was sitting in the dinning room, I was taking a break because even with the very few chores I had I still got exhausted pretty quickly. She handed me a stack of paper. I wonder what all this was for? "I need you to deliver to Erwin, it's very important."

"Does important include new crazy experiments you want to try?" I chuckled, grabbing the stack as I stood to go deliver them.

"Oh sh! Just go! And hurry!" She was very enthused about these papers being delivered, as fast as my body would let me I headed to Erwin's office. Which I passed Levi's room on the way, it was opened and this time he was reading a book. I kept walking, I missed him, but this is what's for the best right? Once I got Erwin's office, I spotted him staring out the window. One of his arms now gone due to a titan.

"Hanji wanted me to drop these off, I hope you don't mind," I told him and went to walk out when he stopped me.

"Levi told me." Told him what? "Why you sacrificed yourself, and even if it wasn't because you wanted to save humanity. I should still thank you..." I turned to face him, he was staring at me now.

"Levi wasn't the only reason I sacrificed myself..."

"Yet he was the main one." I nodded, I understood what Erwin was telling me, it was selfish for me to have done such a thing. "Then if you wanted to die so bad, why did you fight so hard to come home?" I knew why, and Erwin did to as did everyone except for Levi.

"...Cause I wanted to see the smile on his face one last time..." I gave him a small grin and left, it was because I wanted some reaction out of Levi. I want to see...to see if he would realize how he felt about me, that he would possibly realize that he loved me...I walked past Levi's room again, the book was to the side. When I looked closer I realized it was my journal, the one I gave to Eren. He was still reading that thing? I leaned in the doorway but only for a second. He couldn't see me, he was facing the wall, the more I stood there the more it hurt to see him.

"If you couldn't handle seeing me again..." He spoke facing me, his eyes were red and his cheeks stained with tears. "Then why did you come back?"

"Well..." I step inside, and sat down next to him. "...At first I didn't know why, I didn't know why I fought so hard. Then I did, ever since I told you I loved you...you abandoned me. You never payed attention to me anymore...you hated me." I glance over at him, his hands were shaking, gently I take one and tangled his fingers together with my own. He didn't pull away, instead he scooted closer to me. "Then when I saw you I knew why I came back...I knew why I fought so hard to come home. I wanted to see your smile, even if it was for the last time. But I won't get to...and that's ok, cause heroes don't always get happy endings huh?" I sniffled, I knew if I stayed there any longer I would've let it all go. I couldn't let him see me cry, so I left and headed outside to clear my head. I kept walking out into the field, and when I was far enough I screamed. Why didn't he love me? Was there something wrong with me? Was I not good enough!?

"Kiley!" He shouted, running up behind me, great he followed me.

"Go away!" I yelled, he didn't listen, instead he grabbed me. Making me face him, I tried to get out of his grip.

"I didn't tell you to leave that day because I didn't love you." Wait, what? I stopped struggling, "I told you to leave because I didn't want to get attached as well as you...every person I've loved dies." He admits, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. "And I knew that if you got close to me, you would die to and this time you almost did because of me...Kiley, I love you, I'm just scared that I'll lose you."

"Oh Levi..." I pulled him close, his arms wrapped around me tightly. This time I didn't object, this time I stayed in his embrace. "You won't lose me, ever, no matter what happens I will always fight to see you again." He pulled back, a huge smile on his features and finally what felt like forever he placed his lips on mine.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 144: Hermione's Helping Hand

The room was a very dangerous landing, each of them got a book to the head no matter where they landed. Frank was on a flaming red comforter on the bed with a dog eared copy, the title so faded he hadn't a hope of recognizing it until he flipped through a few pages, and even then did not follow the Muggle story.* Alice had a heavy tomb smash so hard against her forehead she saw stars, and it was over a copy of some muggle thing to do with the human anatomy a Healer would struggle to follow.

Lily groaned miserably as she removed a book on alchemy from her face, and Potter's glasses had broken where he'd faced planted a window with an interesting view of a Muggle neighborhood and still had a book on the windowsill crack a lens he couldn't even read the title of now.

Peter had to pull himself out from a whole pile of books, on top of which was Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard, and Regulus even found one on teeth he had to dislodge from his own.

Remus landed painfully on a desk, the book losing its place as the bookmark toppled out of sight he felt bad for, and Sirius even found a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages to his distaste for the first time in his life as he pulled it from where it had whacked his ear.

The silver book itself they were all supposed to be here for sat in the middle of the room with the air of innocence. For once.

"As if we haven't been traumatized by enough books already," James sighed as he tapped his glasses to fix them.

"If this room isn't Hermione's, then I'll kiss a centaur," Sirius happily informed the room at large.

"Brilliant deduction there," Lily rolled her eyes, but there was only amusement in her voice. "Did you figure that out before or after this?" She was holding a picture of Hermione in this very room, a still image of her sitting at this very desk with Crookshank's in her lap, the sun just visible on the horizon from the window.

The walls didn't house much decoration, it was simple yet charming to see so much of her personality packed into the comfortably sized room.

"The best part is, I bet this is only a quarter of the ones she owns," James grinned. "She takes most of them with her to school!"

Sirius laughed and Lily found herself smiling in agreement as Lupin tried the door, which mercifully opened. The others scattered about the house, some for the loo, some for the kitchen. Sirius made to do the latter, but lingered in the door jam to watch in fascination as Prongs hesitated, and then turned back to Evans.

There was a reluctance in him he'd seen a few times now, and he had a very good guess why James was suddenly so hesitant to engage with her. He'd been devastated by the news of Sirius' death, arguably more than him even, and it wasn't hard to follow his logic if he had to change something to keep it from happening it would be taking Harry out of the equation via her. He wished his brother wouldn't think like that, but he'd never liked Evans much himself to understand his fascination with her and so wasn't even sure how to urge him back.

When James turned back holding in whatever he'd been about to say though, Lily startled them both by asking, "so, do you know what a dentist is?" The tone was mild, maybe a little mocking, but she was now holding the book Regulus had spat out with a curious smile.

He would have expected James, as usual, to not actually know how to respond to her when she spoke like a normal human being. Instead he hesitated with an odd smile in place and said casually, "not really, but I got the idea. Teeth and such, Muggles need them cared for without a spell."

Prongs hesitated again, some torn expression lingering, before he softly asked as if speaking of her ill coming death, "how come you never took Care of Magical Creatures?"

Sirius snorted fantastically, earning a dirty look from both of them. He raised his hands in surrender and took a step back into the hall, where Remus came up and pulled on him out of sight. James turned back to watching her, still unsure if he should have asked. She'd gotten assurances on their first day from McGonagall, Flitwick, and Slughorn all the creatures came to no harm for their classes to commence. He'd watched her love of animals long after that, she'd taken to cuddling with every cat in the common room and watched the birds deliver post every morning despite receiving none of her own long after other Muggle-borns grew used to it, but that look of awe and longing lingered in her.

Just because he'd given up on the idea of her didn't mean he couldn't still learn more about her, right? It was something he'd wanted to know for years but obviously she'd never have answered before. Maybe if he tried without the flirting he'd get a better result.

And, it worked. She went a little red, but answered casually, "I was trying to prove something, to my parents, to Snape, myself. Taking Arithmancy and Runes, the harder and more difficult classes. I regret it a bit now."

Potter watched her, absolutely fascinated by her little speech it seemed. She kept waiting for that to wear off now that she was actually trying to talk to him on a regular basis, but it didn't seem to be happening.

"You can take it come NEWT year if you want," he told her, that damnable cheerful smile creeping back now as they managed the first casual conversation of their life. "Remus will lend you his notes for the OWL's next week if you want."

She laughed in surprise, then realized he wasn't joking. He really thought she was that smart she could take a class she hadn't been in for two years? "I'll, ah, take that into consideration," she tried to shrug.

He hesitated, seemed to decide he'd pushed her enough, and then finally left. He'd gotten her to laugh, that was more of an accomplishment he'd managed in his life already! He glanced the way two of his friends went, rolled his eyes, and called towards the kitchen, "hey Alice, want to show me how a muggle stove works!"

Lily blanched in fear of him burning the house down and snatched up the actual needed book, not bothering to pretend to herself she was smiling as she followed along and cracked it open, but paused to take in the rest.

The hallway was littered with cheerful hallmark signs such as 'Love, Life, Live,' and several more of Hermione through the years, but Lily kept watching the muggle photos despite the fact that they weren't moving in mild curiosity for several moments before it occurred to her why they seemed a little odd. Hermione was alone in each of them, smiling brightly, but the only one in focus. Not only no friends hanging off her arm in her primary years as she held up spelling awards and science fair projects, but her parents didn't seem in any of them either. One particularly telling one was a candid shot of a very young Hermione sitting in an empty waiting room, reading a book far too big for her lap. Only when she got to the very end of most recent photos hinted at who could have been there all these years, and it was an extremely elder lady, possibly her grandmother or even a nanny, the photo at such an angle it was clearly taken by her as well as she stood shoulder to shoulder with Hermione. The tender look of love in the older woman's eyes only leveled with the weary exhaustion in the folds of her skin. Beneath that was a hand drawn calligraphy plaque with the year and date, but no other sort of explanation except her socially awkward behavior from back at the first book.

The kitchen seemed to double as a study, there were heavy journals on multiple surfaces, Frank was flipping curiously through one that was ear marked with dates, names, and what the appointment was going to be for, another that Regulus was prodding his wand along curiously through every page seemed to house lots of studies and practices on how Hermione's parents could improve their work. She doubted he followed a word, even she probably couldn't.

The chapter title itself was unsurprising, and she went through it still laughing it was all about Harry's first act as Captain sorting out members of his team, indeed with Hermione's help. Wasn't this just a day of surprises.

Potter continued to rank highest of all in that regards. The look on his face when he found out what Hermione did was priceless.

The reason behind it she misunderstood.

"She cheated? On Quidditch! I'd expect this girl to snog Snape before I heard her do something like this!"

"She did set Snape on fire once during a game." Alice happily reminded as she swatted his hand away from the hot surface, again. He seemed to keep forgetting despite the red light and heat waves coming up from the innocent black circle. "Guess her bar goes out the window during sports," she finished with a giggle.

His flummoxed expression still seemed at war if he should be impressed or agitated at this, while Regulus was snickering relentlessly for the show as well as he said, "I thought it was brilliant, as if I want to sit around hearing about that McLaggen's temper for the games, he'll ruin what little fun we've been getting out of these."

His eyes tracked curiously as he seemed to realize his brother wasn't in here to give his opinion, but seemed distracted enough when Peter spoke, "think of it this way, you or Padfoot would have done it to some arse in the hallway if he was really saying half that shite. Does the location matter that much?"

"I mean, yes," he pouted, but if anything he looked more confused. "Quidditch shouldn't be trifled with," he finished with a hint of defiance, but eventually sighed and turned back to turning the stove on and off with the odd switch and all the numbers while she finished.

Remus let his fingers brush against Sirius' and subtly pulled his fingers before letting go. Sirius needed no further prompting before following him out of the room into what must be Hermione's parents room. Remus didn't care as he locked the door and then hugged Sirius.

He laughed in delight, immediately returning it as he said quietly into his neck, "I'm getting whiplash from you."

"I just wanted to make sure you know I'm grateful," Remus told him as he pulled back, having to remind himself not to let his hands linger. "For not beating Frank's face into a pulp, back in the apothecary," he elaborated.

The fact that Sirius never held his mood swings against him or even ever accused him of being moody because of the full moon made him wish he could snog his face off right about now. Merlin, James had barely been involved and he'd called him on being an emotional ass!

"Oh," Sirius' face did not settle into a promising expression, barely concealed anger still there, but he made such a valiant effort to push it back away Remus had to fight back the urge to kiss him again. "Right, you're welcome. If he had done it on purpose though, I can't say I'd have been able to stop myself." Moony and Prongs had made a valid point, better Longbottom occasionally forget the dangers than continue being a racist arse, but his point still stood there was a middle ground that wouldn't put Remus in pain! The Marauders all knew it, couldn't he?!

Remus really couldn't resist and let his hand brush along his cheek and settle down on his neck as he gazed into his eyes. Sirius hummed as always at the physical affection. Remus could have hugged him back in the apothecary and not been an arse about this too! This really would just have to be enough for him, he could never ask for better friends. He reluctantly let his hand drop back away with one more whispered thanks.

Sirius looked hurt though, to Remus' confusion. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?" He denied, he really hadn't thought Sirius would realize he was starting to back off yet, as much else as he was dealing with.

"Remus, you've barely looked at me since the polyjuice prank," Sirius finally called his crap. "So if you're not mad at me, would you please say so?"

"I'm not," Remus instantly promised. Merlin if he was mad at Sirius for every stupid prank he'd never not be enraged at this one. "I'm, mad at myself." He finally reluctantly admitted.

Sirius' face clouded with concern. Even on top of dealing with James, Peter, and Regulus at once Padfoot hadn't once tried to cope a field on him for some fun away from them while in this room, and a traitorous bubble of hope still lingered in Remus' chest this could mean more to Sirius. They were just friends with benefits, he instantly reminded himself. Friends! Of course he cares, you know he does.

"Anything I can do to help?" Sirius was even the one to reach for his hand, their fingers naturally intertwining.

"It's, Harry," he finally gave a half truth, which was still a truth that the book provided. He couldn't believe he'd only been back in Prongs's kids life once so far this year with Sirius out of the picture. "Not even writing to him, I'm just, this future- I don't want to stop-" He stopped himself quickly before something stupid came out. 'Being there for you,' probably sounded way too intimate to Padfoot. Maybe if he'd actually been around Sirius during that awful Ministry fight he would have come back out of it and none of this would be thrown in their face so repeatedly!

What kind of heartless monster couldn't do the bare minimum to look after one of his best friends kids anyways? And he was complaining Sirius wasn't ready for more, he clearly wasn't capable of it either.

Sirius had such a beautiful smile, and one he so rarely showed anyone. A smirk, his teasing grin were all anyone but the Marauders ever got to see, and Remus drank his fill in now as Padfoot squeezed his fingers while mimicking as well, tracing his cheek before letting his hand rest on his neck as they naturally mirrored each other. Remus wouldn't dream of denying he instantly felt warm and assured as he leaned into the touch even before Sirius told, "this future's a mess Moony. Don't kick yourself about this poor kids life we have no control over. We'll find a way to fix this."

He spoke with such assurance it's like they should have heard the very words Evans was reading change to match. Remus was convinced Sirius could hypnotize the moon to never be full again in that moment as he leaned in and kissed him.

It was just sweet, and gentle. There was no randiness in either of them, just a silent promise as Remus leaned back that no matter what, his words would be true.

HPHPHPHP

*Let me know what you think Hermione's favorite book is. I personally always thought it was Sherlock Holmes.