#i love that vine because the energies are so mismatched

[rhysuje]

that vine is somehow always in my head.

Happy birthday to our precious Monkey! 👊🐒👒🎉 05.05.

(obviously Shanks is behind the camera, I can just hear him shouting excitedly)

https://ko-fi.com/rhysuje

[ktheist]

muses. brother’s best friend / housemate / touchy!yoongi

min yoongi was everything you hated in a man. clingy, sleeps too much and sloth-y. if anyone had eyes, they’d know that you’re a clingy hug away from committing murder on campus.

“hey, pumpkin,” a dead weight snakes around your shoulders and a hand wraps around your wrist, directing the fry you’re about to pop into your mouth to his mouth.

“what the-” venom drips off your words.

“babe, i missed you!” jennie whines, wounding her arm around min yoongi’s friend, who happens to be her boyfriend.

in fact, your world going down a wayward spiral started with jennie’s secretive ‘i’m texting a boy, he’s kinda cute!’ to a full out ‘i’m dating kim taehyung!’ a month later. and with that, came the grueling begging of her trying to get you to agree to go to dinner as a ‘her friends meets his friends’ kind of thing.

you thought to put up with it once but for some reason, after a few hang outs too many, min yoongi has come to calling you a ridiculous nickname and putting his hands on you whenever he sees you.

“they’re so in love, aren’t they?” the boy next to you snickers while his free hand snakes down to your thigh.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

the whine that slips out of his mouth doesn’t bring you satisfaction even if you’re the one who opt for pinching his hand with all your might.

he looks at you, eyes looking like the midnight lake, sparkling with moonlight, “my hand slipped. did you have to pinch me that hard?”

“oh hey, lisa,” hoseok greets your blonde haired, doll-like friend, “we’re having a match with xxx university, you wanna join?”

at the mention of the long standing rival of your uni, lisa’s delicate features break into that of an angel of death, “the fuck? they have the nerve to fuck with us? that-”

“oh wow, she’s fired up, isn’t she?” yoongi chuckles, his breath fanning your cheek.

you still your hand from coming up to fan your face. why is it hot all of a sudden?

“yeah, her ex-best friend goes there and they’ve been competing against each other in dance ever since,” you say plainly, not realizing it’d spark a different kind of fire.

a loud smack echoes in the air as you look at the hand on the table and up at the owner of said hands, “we were never friends! let alone best friends!”

“o-oh yeah, my bad, you and your non-best friend’s been trying to take each other down since you both left high school,” you lean backwards to widen the distance between her hand and your face but consequentially, you end up leaning into min yoongi who gladly welcomes you into his arms, locking his hands together over your chest and trapping you in a hug.

“so, you guys gonna practice before the match?” yoongi’s ask is what makes her snap her head at the man happily munching on her meal after she had her attention averted to a certain non-best friend.

“hobi, we’re gonna practice till our limbs feel like falling off,” and with that, she drags the man away, his whines and begging to finish the (her) food falling on deaf ears.

for the briefest moment, things seem to have calmed down. that is, until you turn your head to the smiley boy clinging onto you like a koala.

“what? i saved you from lisa’s wrath.” he states, as if sensing your own wrath coming to surface if he doesn’t-

“get off me,” you order, glaring daggers at the boy.

“make me,” he smirks, the gummy smile now gone and for some reason, your heart’s beating too fast than your body can handle.

“seriously, what’s wrong with you? jimin’s right there, why can’t you go and cling onto him? at least he’s your friend. i barely even know you,” you sigh, feeling his arms loosening around you yet your chest is the one clenching as he drops his gaze.

“___, you’re breaking my heart,” he bumps his head to yours, those dark brown eyes glinting with a sort of deviousness that you know will do you no good if you hang around him any longer, “especially when we’ve kn-”

“my class is starting in ten.”

he doesn’t stop you when you stand up, his arms slipping away from your body like withered vines on stone wall.

that’s the last you see of min yoongi. well, until you’re walking out of the ecology club, fist smacking against that sore spot on your shoulder as you trail behind your club mates. the meeting about the outdoor event to raise awareness on carbon print ended a little later than you thought it would and by the end of it, everyone’s like a walking corpse.

“i thought you’d never come out,” a voice husks from behind you as your body freezes and your heart jumps to your throat.

“what the fuck, min yoongi?” you glare at the gummy smiley boy who doesn’t seem to bear an ounce of guilt for causing your soul to astral project into oblivion.

“did i scare you?” he chuckles, “don’t worry, johnny won’t get you as long as i’m here.”

“johnny?” you feel your eyebrows coming together in annoyance rather than confusion.

“you know, the ghost that’s living in the ecology club room,” he raises his eyebrows twice as if insinuating something.

you scoff.

“oh yoongi, you’re been waiting for ___?” jisoo waves from a few steps ahead, “you guys going back together?”

“no- wait-” you’re about to run after your friends when an arm wraps around your waist and pulls you to a warm body.

“yeah, drive safe guys!” the boy waves, smiling that stupid smile until the car’s out of sight.

placing one hand on his chest, you push him away from you until you’re at least three feet apart, “seriously, why’d you have to wait for me? i could’ve gone home on my own.”

“what do you mean why? because i wanted to see you sooner,” he grins, arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on top of your head.

“w-what the hell,” you fumble with your words, turning away as your cheeks flare up with warmth, “let’s just go,” you say, holding onto yoongi’s pinky finger and dragging him with you.

you get home before 10 o’clock despite yoongi’s whining to take the longer route home along the river.

“oh, you’re back? whew, i was worried there for a sec,” seokjin’s voice rings throughout the house as he greets you from his room, “but i shouldn’t be since yoongi’s with you. it’s lucky you guys got into the same uni.”

“i could’ve gone home with my friends,” you say almost sulkily, glaring at the boy who’s walking towards his own room as if he’s ready to black out as soon as his head hits the pillow.

“yoongi, you’re not gonna have dinner?” seokjin asks.

“nah, i’ll sleep first.” and with that, the door of the room across from your brother’s clicks shut.

“he really needs to get his sleep schedule fixed,” the older man shakes his head whilst you place the plate of fried rice seokjin made into the microwave.

“let him be, he’s a grown man, he can take care of himself. you cooking for him is more than-” you can’t even finish your sentence when seokjin’s fast padded footsteps crosses the hallway and to the kitchen. hands shaking your body more than an earthquake could.

 “___, do you... do you really see yoongi as a man? are you guys dating?!” seokjin’s concerned gaze bores into yours, offering you no escape unless you answer him.

“no? i mean, he’s grown - we all grew up, seokjin, we’re in uni,” you say in a matter of factly. every once in awhile, seokjin gets a wake up call that-

“oh thank god,” he envelops you into a bear hug, “i thought my baby sister was interested in my best friend.”

well, guess that wake up call just got pushed back.

you suppose you get where seokjin’s coming from. just three little kids with mismatched ages growing up together in the same neighborhood. you climb trees together, scrape your knees falling off the swings and treat each other to health.

but it was seokjin who introduced you to yoongi. back then, whoever knew whoever first, got the first friend privilege. it was just some dumb rules the kids from the neighborhood came up with. and everyone wanted to be friends with min yoongi who had the chubbiest cheeks and the cutest smile. but seokjin always prided himself to be yoongi’s best friends and the latter never denied it. in a way, the two of them had a sort of bond that nobody could touch, let alone break.

something like brothers for life kind of thing.

because of that, min yoongi had always been your brother’s best friend. 

“___, you’re not asleep yet?” a voice rings from behind you where the hallway to your bedrooms lie.

“i’ve got some club stuff to settle,” you say, not away from your laptop as you sit on the spot between the couch and coffee table. an energy drink a few inches away.

“you’re always so busy,” tresses of soft hair tickles your cheek as a head leans on your shoulder, the warmth of another body making you all warm inside.

you sigh, a smile playing on your lips. at times like this, when min yoongi’s barely awake - there’s no way you can push him away, is there?

“you’re the one that has too much free time on your hand,” you say, shaking your head.

the sound of the tapping keyboard fills the otherwise silent room. you thought he’d fallen asleep with his head on your shoulder.

“...you...” he murmurs under his breath, “...i like you.”

your cheeks heat up, body instinctively recoiling from the body that’s leaned up against you as if - as if you’re just realizing that min yoongi is, in every sense of nature, a man.

a shirtless man, at that.

it wasn’t unusual to see him and your brother walking around shirtless since there’s not much to see. but you’ve always known yoongi’s not half bad, he’s got some underlying abs from those days of playing basketball in high school and he’s in the basketball team in uni.

so why are you getting all embarrassed seeing a shirtless min yoongi stare up at you like he’s waiting for you to say something that will make him or break him - now?

x

note. a little skit from my fried brain. hope yall enjoyed!

[stillchaoticlogic]

Applin Pie

Summary

: Things are hard when you start your own bakery in the heart of Hammerlocke. Good thing your knight in shining armor is none other than Raihan the Gym Leader. You are smitten... Too bad you don't really think you're his type, especially when you see the beautiful and powerful women that surround him.

Good thing he likes you just the way you are.

Pairing: Raihan x Reader

Chapter: 1

Gazing out the window at the fading light you heave a sigh as you glance over at the mostly full case of sweet treats. Looking around at the cozy bakery you take in the overstuffed chairs and the mismatched teacups and plates. The corner houses a fire that is just barely flickering while lanterns hang from the ceiling giving a warm glow to the atmosphere. 

You knew opening a new bakery would be difficult, however, you were expecting that being in a prime area, that cost way too much to rent, would bring business. With only three customers all day even as you tried to hand out samples to the streets of Hammerlocke, to say the least, you are disheartened. You decide to close up for the day and lock the door before you begin to wipe down the tables. Your Indeedee, Bella, is cleaning the dishes and helping you to stack the chairs. Spook, your Pumpkaboo, is floating around putting out the candles and pouting about the lack of visitors. 

You are startled by a sudden knock on the door, you to look up and you see a man standing there. Surprised you hesitate before you walk over to the door to unlock it. 

“Hey! You aren’t closing up, are you? I saw your shop on my way into work today and I’ve been thinking about cake all day because of it,” he says with a friendly grin.

You blink in surprise at the man, “Oh? Well come on in, there is plenty left.”

He smiles as he walks into the shop with an ease you can only dream of and only then do you realize how tall he is. He’s wearing some kind of Pokemon league uniform, but you don’t really pay attention to the league, so you don’t know what he does or who he is. 

“What would you like?” you ask as you go behind the counter as Bella begins to clear the chairs from the tables once again. Spook is relighting the candles and thrills as he floats about, happy for the customer. 

The man studies the cakes and various other treats in the case before he glances up at you with a heart-stopping smile. 

“Sorry, I don’t really know what to get… Any recommendations?” He winks subtly and you fight to keep the blush at bay.

Before you can even open your mouth Strudel, your Appletun, lifts his little head up from where he had been dosing on top of the case before he points to an apple turnover called a Flapple Turnover. 

The male blinks at the tiny dragon for a moment before he chuckles at him, “Good choice buddy! I’ll take a Flapple Turnover!”

“Strudel likes to help customers by recommending his favorites,” you say with a laugh. 

“He’s a good helper then! It’s pretty cool you have an Appletun, how did you get one? Did your boyfriend give you an Applin?” he asks innocently. 

“Oh… I don’t have a boyfriend. When I was younger my family and I went apple picking at an orchard and we accidentally brought home a couple of Applin.”

“A couple?” he asks as he takes a bite of the turnover you hand him before a happy groan leaves his mouth.

At his question Tart, your Flapple, drops from the plant he’s been snoozing in. The stranger blinks at the newcomer before he chuckles at seeing the Flapple hovering before his face waving happily at him. 

“So you have one of each!” he says enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, Tart likes to sleep in the potted plants that hang from the ceiling, which is fine because he helps to take care of them,” you giggle, “And Strudel likes how warm the case is and helping undecided customers.”

“You’ve got some cool partners! So how long have you been open?”

“About a week, we don’t really have much business yet… That’s why I was closing up early…”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, it’ll get better. In fact, these are great and I’ll take a variety of pastries for the gym tomorrow.”

“Oh! So you work at the gym?” you ask as you grab a box and begin to load him up.

“You mean…” he trails off in surprise.

“Hmmm?” you hum as you glance up at him.

“You don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?” you ask with a furrowed brow. 

“Uhh… No! Forget I said anything! This is great, I’m sure everyone at the gym will love these! How much?”

“On the house, you coming in has brightened my day, which is payment enough,” you say waving away his money.

“No way! You’re brand new and I want to support you! How much?” he says pulling out his wallet.

You argue back and forth with the man for a few minutes before he finally relents and takes the pastries from your hands. 

“Fine… but you have to let me take a picture with these guys for my Pokegram and let me recommend this place!”

“Deal!” you giggle. 

He carefully picks up Strudel and Tart lands on his head as his Rotom Phone flies out and snaps a picture of the three together. He’s so handsome he probably has a lot of followers, you think to yourself as he sets Strudel down gently and Tart flies over and lands on your head. 

“Perfect,” he says regarding the photo, “Hey, thanks for the pastries! I’ll be back soon okay? And watch for my post, what is your username?”

“@SweetandSourApplins.”

He chuckles, “Got it! See ya soon!”

You wave as he walks out of the door and you feel for the first time all week that just maybe this isn’t hopeless after all. 

You quickly lock up and finish cleaning up the place before you head back into the kitchen. Eclair your Milcery is sitting on the counter near your baking supplies. Heading over to her you chuckle as she chirps up at you. 

“Come on everyone, time for bed!” you say as you set the alarm and head towards the door that leads up to your apartment. 

It’s a cozy and quaint little place with a nook for reading and a balcony with several vines trailing down. Cherry, your Cherubi, is outside tending to the plants as everyone makes their way to their respective places in the apartment. Syrup, your Slurpuff, is lounging in her bed, exhausted from helping with the baking that day. 

The kitchen is off white with plants and vines that hang everywhere and has an airy feeling to it. It looks out into your living room which has a couch and a few chairs surrounding a coffee table. A small kitchen table is off to the side and painted a soft aqua blue. Down the hallway are your bathroom and bedroom. It’s not much, but it is everything you could want. 

You get started on dinner for everyone and giggle as Spook floats about the kitchen handing you the ingredients you ask for. After everyone is fed and tucked in you go to bed unsuspecting of the next day’s events. 

The next morning you wake up, get ready for your day and head downstairs to your kitchen as if it is any other day. You get to work on making the pastries, pies, and cakes for today. Each one is pokemon-themed and carefully crafted to be extra cute. The attractive customer last night has given you a burst of energy and even if you don’t sell anything today, you think you will still be okay for at least one more day. 

With a tray full of a batch of mini cakes you make your way through the swinging door and into the front where you almost drop the tray of desserts. There is a line outside of the door twisting around the corner. Upon seeing you several of them smile and wave happily and you smile back pure elation taking over your body. You set the tray down and motion one minute to the customers milling about outside. You technically have about ten minutes until you open which should give you enough time to set up the case. You get to work yelling at Bella to grab the trays and bring them out. She hops to it as Spook floats about lighting the lanterns and candles that hang from the ceiling and along the wall giving it a whimsical ambiance. 

You notice gasps from the crowd as Tart and Strudel make their way out of the back with Syrup right behind them. You chuckle as Tart flaps over to the window and waves happily back at the group. You hear squeals from several of the girls about how cute your tiny dragon is. You chuckle as he continues to dart from one person to another entertaining the crowd as you finish up. 

“Strudel? Syrup? Spook? Are we ready? Bella? Good to go?” With a chorus from your team, you head over to the door to unlock it. 

“Hey! Welcome!” you greet when you open the door for them. 

“Hi! We’re so excited to try your cakes!”

“Raihan said they were the best!”

“The picture of your Flapple and Appletun is the cutest! You must have been so excited when Raihan wanted to take a picture with them!”

“Uhh… yeah, he’s super nice…” you say while you rub your neck. 

“What was it like meeting him? Is he as cool in person as he seems?” asks another girl as she shoves the other out of the way. 

“Hey, guys you know his favorite was the turnover right? Do you want to try one?”

A chorus of ‘yes!’ goes up from the crowd of girls surrounding you giving you the chance to refocus them. After you have gotten them their pastries they all take pictures for their stories before biting into them. 

“These are to DIE for!” 

“So good!”

“Raihan has the BEST TASTE!”

“We’ll be back soon!!” They wave as they leave the shop only for more to come in right behind them. 

Your morning is filled with young women and trainers buying up cakes, cookies and pastries. Several businessmen and women come in and buy dozens for the office along with coffee. Friends and lovers sit idly in the candlelight sipping tea and eating cakes. Your patio is full to the brim with customers enjoying their treats with their tea or coffee. You’re amused when you notice Cherry hopping about offering mint and lavender to the patrons. They happily accept the fresh herbs before she bounces away. 

The stars of the show are definitely Tart and Strudel and everyone always mentions Raihan in passing. You’re pleased when your other pokemon garner affection from your guests too as they squeal about Spook or giggle when Bella or Syrup would bring them their treats. You’re pretty sure your pokemon are now famous. 

It’s late afternoon before you get a chance to take a breather. Grabbing your phone for the first time all day you see a plethora of notifications from new followers. You go to the very first notification and see the post the mysterious Raihan posted. You click on his profile and feel yourself become embarrassed. 

“Of course he’s a gym leader… Of course, he’s The Gym Leader…” you grumble to yourself as you scroll through his profile. You see another picture of him taking a bit out a cheese danish that must have made the girls go wild. “No wonder I was so busy today… he’s got millions of followers… And he recommended me…” you murmur as you pause on a photo of him licking the icing from one of your treats with a sultry look in his eyes. 

You settle on the photo he took last night of your two dragons after a moment of scrolling his Pokegram. 

“Got to hang with these cool dudes tonight! They help run a bakery called @SweetandSourApplin you should totally check out! When you do tell Tart and Strudel hi for me. And don’t worry if you don’t know what to get, Strudel loves recommending his favorite pastry to you.”

You giggle at the caption and feel gratitude flood your body. You glance over at the pie you made especially with him in mind and smile. You were glad that you left in the back today, just in case he came by. You know it’s silly, but he really did make your day. 

As the afternoon drifts into the evening you regard your mostly empty case and smile as you begin to clean up. You’re hoping you’ll see Raihan, but you know better than to hope that he would come by two nights in a row. As the evening wears on you lose hope and lock up for the night. 

You end up on your balcony with a cup of chamomile tea as you gaze up at the stars. Spook is munching on some poke puffs you made as he keeps you company outside. A Flygon suddenly lands gracefully on your balcony its eyes blinking at you. You blink back before your arms flail in surprise as you jerk back in your chair, a yelp escaping as you do so. 

“Don’t be scared of him! He’s a total softie. He just wanted to say hi!”

“Huh??” you look around your balcony for the oddly familiar disembodied voice before you look at the balcony one house over. Waving at you casually is your apparent next-door neighbor the Gym Leader Raihan. He’s leaning against the railing with a lazy grin as he regards you and his Flygon with interest. 

“You… live… there?” you ask in shock as you point in his direction. 

“Sure do!”

The stone house next to your house and bakery is bigger than your own house with vines growing up the side. Perhaps you should have been paying attention the past few months while you’ve been getting things ready. Then again you have been rather busy so it’s really not a wonder that you missed your handsome and famous neighbor. 

“Oh…” You blink back at him while your exhausted brain attempts to catch up. 

Raihan laughs as his Flygon leans forward and sniffs you before chirping at you happily. 

“Hello,” you murmur as you gently lift your hand and run it along his neck, “Perhaps you would like a poke puff too?”

The pokemon chirps at you as you get up and head into your house before you emerge a moment later with a bag in your hand. Tart yawns as he follows you back outside and lands on your shoulder as he sniffs at the much larger dragon. You reach into the bag and pull out a puff that you hand to the dragon in front of you before you grab another one for the one on your shoulder. 

“He likes you!” laughs Raihan before he calls his partner back over to him. You chuckle as you watch Flygon show Raihan his treat before he eats it. 

“Thank you!” you blurt out suddenly.

“Huh? For what?” he asks as he pauses petting his companion. 

“For the recommendation… I sold almost everything today thanks to you!”

“Naw I just let them know you were there, you did everything else.”

“Still… thank you…”

“Anytime, Princess.”

You chuckle at the nickname, “I bet you call all the girls princess… Gym Leader Raihan.”

He winces when you say his title, “So you found me out, huh?”

“You made it kinda easy…”

He sighs as he puts his hands on his hips and looks up at the night sky, “Could you just… pretend you don’t know?”

“Huh? Why?” you tilt your head at his request.

“It was nice talking to you without having to be… Dragon Tamer Raihan… It was cool being just Raihan.”

“Well, you are just Raihan… I mean it’s cool that you’re a gym leader and you get to do what you love, but that doesn’t change who you are as a person. Plus… no offense… I don’t really pay attention to league stuff...”

“No offense taken princess,” he says with a chuckle.

“So...I uh… made an apple pie last night to try out a new design and recipe for the store… do you want to come over and test it out with me?” You’re glad the darkness hides your blush, and although you already know that this recipe is delicious your little white lie seems much less creepy than you just making him a pie.

“Princess I will never say ‘no’ to anything that you make. I’ll be right there!”

He runs into his house and disappears before you hear his front door open. 

“Come to the back!” you yell down at him as you lean over the railing. 

He sends you a thumbs up before you turn around and head to your back door. A moment later you hear footsteps coming up your back stairs and you let him in. 

“Cute place,” he says as he ducks his head to enter your home. 

“Oh… thanks!” you smile as you turn around to grab the pie that looks almost exactly like Strudel.

“That’s not actually your Appletun, right? It looks exactly like him!” he says in awe. 

You giggle, “Nope! It took me a long time to get this right! Here!” you say as you hand him a slice. 

He takes a bite and his eye widen in amazement, “This is amazing…” he says before he takes another mouth full. 

“I’m glad you like it! Here, try this as well! It’s a spiced tea, I think the spices complement one another quite well, don’t you?”

He quickly takes a sip before he devours another bite of his pie, “That’s it, you’re staying in business and right next door to me if I have anything to say about it! I’m not giving up my new job as an official taste tester.”

“Well if business continues like it did today you won’t have anything to worry about,” you say as you clap your hands together in excitement. 

“I’m glad you were busy today! I couldn’t stand seeing that look of disappointment on your face.”

“When did you see that?” you ask looking away from him. 

“When I knocked yesterday you looked so disappointed, I had to figure out a way to see that beautiful smile of yours.”

“Hush Raihan…” you say with a blush.

“It’s true! I saw you getting everything ready for your bakery to open and you were so excited! I loved seeing your smile, it always made my day brighter.”

You look away from him and blush, “I bet you say that to all the girls,” you say with a giggle as you playfully hit his arm. 

“Just the pretty ones who know how to bake,” he says with a wink.

You roll your eyes, “So cheesy…”

“You love cheese! I know you do!”

You cut yourself a slice of the pie as a means of distracting yourself just as Strudel comes striding towards the two of you. 

“Hey buddy,” Raihan says as he bends down to greet the tiny dragon, “Did you recommend all kinds of treats today?”

Strudel chirps up at Raihan, clearly happy to see him again as Raihan rubs the Appletun under his chin. 

“You train dragons right?”

“That’s right!”

“I bet you have a lot of cool pokemon…”

“I do have a really cool team. They are the best a guy could ask for. Do you battle?” he glances over his shoulder at you. 

“Not really…Sometimes I will, but I don’t have much of a reason to.”

“So you aren’t interested in battling at all?”

“Ahh well, I wouldn’t say that…” you hesitate as you find the right words, “I’m just out of practice. I battled when I was younger a bit, but I haven’t had much of a reason to lately.”

You shrug your shoulders as you regard Raihan. 

“If you like battles, I would love it if you would come to my match on Saturday. It’s an exhibition match with Allister.” 

“Who’s Allister? Another gym leader?”

Raihan laughs, not in a cruel way, perhaps more at himself before he answers you, “Yeah, he’s the Ghost-type leader of Stow-on-Side gym.”

“I love ghost types! I think they’re fun!”

“They are pretty fun! Do you have any others besides your Pumpkaboo?”

“No…” you say looking down slightly disappointed, “I’ve always wanted a Litwick or a Dreepy! Maybe even a Mimikyu!” Your eyes light up in excitement thinking about the cute ghosts you’ve always wanted. 

“Why don’t you catch one then?”

“I don’t know… I’ve been really focused on the bakery you know? It’s a lot of work and my friends are very helpful, I doubt I would have time for another Pokemon right now…”

“I get it… Too bad though… you would look cute with a Dreepy riding on your shoulder or a Mimikyu following along behind you… I bet your Pumpkaboo could show a Litwick the ropes…” he says looking at you as if he was imagining the pokemon keeping you company, his head resting on his hand and that lazy smile on his handsome face. 

You cock your head to the side, “What? You don’t think I’m cute now?” you tease.

“Ahh… So we’re going to play that game huh? You know you’re adorable, Princess.”

You laugh as you regard the dragon tamer before you murmur, “Alright I believe you…”

“I’m hurt, princess! Do you think I would lie to you?”

“Of course not, Raihan,” you chuckle as you grab his dirty plate from him. 

“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to spoil me?” Raihan asks as he regards you over the tea in his hands. 

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, Princess… So are you coming to my battle on Saturday?”

“I’ll be there!”

“Excellent! I’m going to head home so you can get some rest, I’m sure you’re tired after your busy day.”

“Ok … Thanks for being my taste tester and for supporting me today.”

“Anytime princess… Anytime…”

“Good night!”

“Hey! Don’t forget your promise okay? I’m getting your ticket tomorrow!”

“I won’t forget!”

“Okay, I’m holding you to that! Good night.”

You smile as you watch him turn the corner before you close the door and giggle. You notice the look that Strudel is giving you and you frown at the little dragon. 

“Oh hush…”

He chirps up at you knowingly before you both head to bed to start another day.

Notes: Hey guys just something cute I’ve been working on! I hope you enjoy it! Leave a comment and some love and reblog to show support! 

[artificialqueens]

Me and You Together, 6/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: won't say much but i will say that i love tits and cats but i love reblogs, screaming in the tags and asks a whole lot more babes. if u like this i would love any of the former, but mostly the latter xo hope u all enjoy this chapter!!! cw for smut fam (hwfg!!)

last chapter: February- Valentine's Day saw Tayce and A'whora's cover blown as they were interrupted by Ellie and Lawrence.

this chapter: April- a lot has happened since last month, and at Lawrence’s friend’s flat party A’whora struggles with her feelings for Tayce. The trouble is, neither of them have ever been any good at sticking to the rules.

***

In front of the wooden tenement door with the music and voices muffled behind it, A’whora watches as Ellie frowns, tugs at the hemline of her green snakeskin-patterned skirt.

“Is this too short?”

“ No , Ellie,” A’whora, Tayce and Tia all groan at her in sync before giggling at the absurdity of their unison. She catches Tayce’s eye for a second before smiling bashfully and looking at the floor, electing to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. She wordlessly orders her heart to calm down, to stop doing backflips the way it’s doing right now. A reaction like that is much too selfish, against everything they said they would be going forward.

“Ain’t short enough,” Bimini shrugs blithely, hitching the top of their own hotpants up as if to make a point but only succeeding to rip their fishnets on one of their chunky rings. “Shit.”

“Were they new?” Tayce asks.

“Yeah. A whole two quid out of Primark.”

“How is your bank account ever gonny recover?” Lawrence dramatises, clutching at her heart as Bimini sticks their tongue out at her good-humouredly. As the others snort at Lawrence’s joke, Lawrence herself turns to Ellie and pats her arm. “It’s not too anything, you look great.”

A’whora doesn’t miss the way Ellie flushes red as she thanks her friend, and in spite of herself she finds herself trying to hide a smile. If she can’t be happy, at least one of her friends looks like she’s on her way to figuring her own feelings out soon enough. A’whora just hopes it’ll all have a better ending than her own love story seems to have had.

“Have we definitely got the right flat, Lawrence? You’ve not just brought us to some randomer’s party by accident?” Tia agonises as she rubs her arms, self-conscious and cold. April’s blessed them with some sporadic day-long heatwaves but tonight hasn’t been as kind; the walk over to Lawrence’s friend’s flat party had been chilly, and they’d all needed their jackets.

A’whora supposes the temperature suits her situation.

Embittered by the cold and her self-pity, A’whora rolls her eyes. “It’s not 2010 anymore, Tia, nobody says randomers .”

“Well I do,” Tia shrugs lightly, and before A’whora can begin to bicker with her Lawrence huffs a sigh of exasperation.

“It’s the right flat, awrite?! I have been here before, you know. She’ll answer any second. Could yous all just stop the arguing and pretend to be normal human beings for once in your lives?”

A’whora raises her eyebrows pointedly. “A feat that’s going to be harder for some of us than others…”

As both Lawrence and Tia whip their heads round to scold her, the front door opens to reveal a tall girl with full lips, striking hazel eyes and a thick head of candyfloss pink hair that tumbles down over her shoulders and the straps of the tight black bodysuit she’s wearing. She’s gorgeous, and A’whora is immediately intimidated. Her eyes dart to Tayce in a small panic, trying to gauge her reaction, but she’s distracted by Lawrence’s “WAHEY!” and the girl’s excited squeal as they pull each other into a hug.

“Lads, this is Rosé, Rosé, lads!” Lawrence gestures at her flatmates flippantly, and A’whora waves a hand in an awkward hello much like the rest of the others. Lawrence turns her attention back to her friend with an apologetic grimace. “Hope you don’t mind me bringing them, babes. I know you said bring people if they’re cool, but I don’t actually know any cool people, so…”

A’whora holds back a snort as she watches Tayce’s face screw up in involuntary offence. Rosé, for her part, just laughs and ushers them all in warmly.

“Don’t be silly, of course it’s fine! Come in, baby, let’s get you and your friends sat down and you can introduce me properly, m’kay?”

Once they’ve hung up their jackets Rosé leads the six of them through a crowded hallway, forgoes the thump of the bass and the packed space of bodies all crammed together in the kitchen and instead chooses a quieter room. The multiple sofas, stained coffee table and mismatched chairs suggest it’s a living room of sorts. There’s already people on the couches but Rosé simply bats them away as if they’re flies, irritation on her face.

“Move, my friends are sitting here,” she says simply, before the others grunt and slink off like foxes, tails between their legs. Rosé pats the now-empty seats, pulling a face. “Sorry about them. They’re just girls we hung out with last year before we realised what they were actually like. Freshers friendships, y’know? Nobody really wants them to be here, but Jan insisted we had to invite them so things weren’t awkward.”

“Ever the diplomat, oor Janette,” Lawrence smiles with understanding, throwing herself down beside her friend comfortably. Ellie quickly sits beside her on the other spare space, prompting A’whora to take the other sofa that’s left.

(To her surprise, Tayce sits beside her. Not close, though. A’whora doesn’t know what she expected.)

It leaves Tia and Bimini to take the other smaller couch, and as they sit Rosé stays true to her word and introduces herself to everyone, making an effort to learn their names and appearing genuinely pleased to meet them all (although that could just be a result of the bottle she’s drinking from). When she gets to Ellie her face grows scheming, and A’whora doesn’t miss the way she digs Lawrence in the ribs.

“So you’re Ellie! I’ve heard so much about you from Lawrence,” Rosé purrs, earning a glare from her friend and a laugh from Ellie.

“Fuck’s sake, I bet you have. All horror stories, I’m sure.”

“Oh no, quite the opposite,” Rosé smiles smugly, then flinches suddenly with a hiss. It doesn’t take Poirot to figure out that Lawrence is the cause.

“SO, Rosé! Where the fuck is your girlfriend anyway? Don’t tell me she’s left you,” Lawrence says, too-quickly and too-loudly.

“Shut up. Last time I saw her she was in the kitchen talking to one of her graduate friends,” Rosé pouts faux-dejectedly. “Think it’s a girl who studied fashion design so they were in the same faculty and knew each other for a bit.”

A’whora perks up. “Oh, we’d get on then, I think. I’m studying fashion design too, and Ellie does costume.”

“I’ll get Jan to introduce you!” Rosé smiles enthusiastically, before continuing with the conversation. “Plus I totally didn’t realise she was flatmates with Nina, who was in the MT society with us last year! Small world, huh?”

“Oh my God! You guys did MT?” Tia squeals excitedly. A’whora presses her lips together to stop herself from saying anything; trust Tia to be completely unable to play things cool. “I’m in it this year! How come we haven’t met before?”

Rosé giggles, covers her mouth with her hand. “We didn’t audition this year. Not to be rude, but we wanted to give everyone else a fighting chance, you know? We’ve got a slot in the Jazz Bar with our friend every Tuesday now instead.”

Tia’s face drops like she’s been slapped, and A’whora can’t help the way her eyebrows fly up her forehead. As she looks to Tayce, though, she’s disheartened. Usually Tayce would chime in with a little whoop in response to the shady comment, throw herself right into the conversation, be the complete life and soul of the party. Instead she’s muted, quiet, practically a wallflower in comparison. A’whora knows this isn’t like her. The guilt eats her up as she knows it’s somehow her fault, but still she can’t work out exactly why.

“Kandace!” Rosé suddenly yells out into the hall, startling A’whora somewhat. “Where’s my girlfriend, mama?”

Just then a girl enters the room, her dark hair in thick braids which she flips over her shoulder dramatically. “Well damn, bitch, I never took her! Would know better than to do so, you would come at me with a big...pizza cutter or some shit. She prolly in the kitchen drinking all the punch.”

“There’s punch?” Ellie pipes up, Tia’s wide eyes and anticipative smile matching her excitement.

“Damn right there’s punch, what sort of party d’you think this is? Amateurs. C’mon, I’ll show you both. You can introduce yourselves on the way,” the girl shrugs with the efficient energy of an infant teacher.

“Oh, I like you already,” Ellie smiles as she springs up from the sofa, and A’whora doesn’t miss the crestfallen look that takes over Lawrence’s face in response to Ellie's departure.

“Rosé, if I find Jan I’ll send her through,” the girl yells from over her shoulder, as the three of them leave the room. Rosé immediately turns to Lawrence as Ellie leaves, whispers something like ‘ so when are you gonna tell her?’ before she’s hastily shushed by her friend.

A’whora always has to remind herself she’s not meant to know about Lawrence’s crush on Ellie. She only knows because Tayce told her. Tayce doesn’t really tell her things these days, not in the same way she used to. Their chats used to be deep and meaningful, shared over a glass of wine in a dimly-lit bar or in bed pressed close together and wrapped around each other like vines. Now it’s flippant inquiries into how each others’ day was that neither of them care about the answer to, the question only serving as a box-ticking exercise to maintain the illusion of friendship.

That’s what they said they’d be. So why does this friendship feel so different to the one they had before?

Well. A’whora knows why.

She’d thought this situation would be perfect- Lawrence had been invited to Rosé’s pre-exam-season flat party, and of course had in turn invited the whole flat too- and A’whora had assumed that it would be the perfect opportunity to get everything back on track with Tayce, a little bit of alcohol giving them the gentle nudge in the right direction that they needed to mend whatever had snapped between them. But as Tayce sips one of the cans of cider she’s brought with her, she only smiles at Rosé politely and laughs half-heartedly at Lawrence’s jokes.

It’s been weeks since that day in March and A’whora’s still trying to figure out what exactly happened. It’s strange for something to be over before it ever really had a chance to begin.

Her thoughts are ruptured by the arrival of two more people: a boy with black hair, an earring and a black denim jacket and a girl with tumbling straight blonde hair and warm brown eyes. She’s got a pink sash that’s squint and falling off her shoulder, and a huge pink birthday badge pinned to her purple dress. When she walks in, Rosé’s whole face lights up.

A’whora tries to remember if Tayce’s face ever did that when she came into a room.

“There’s my baby!” Rosé beams, holds out her arms for a hug. The girl instead elects to tumble down onto her lap, and the two of them giggle like Care Bears.

Fleetingly, A’whora hates them.

“Oh, fuck me, right?” the boy fakes offence, before Rosé rolls her eyes and pats the space beside her where Lawrence has scooted up.

“You know damn well I was referring to you,” she addresses him, before turning to her girlfriend once more. “Jan, Mik, these are Lawrence’s flatmates!”

“Oh my God, adorbs! Lil’ fresher babies,” the boy says, with a vocal fry to rival that of a Valley girl. A’whora knows he doesn’t mean to be patronising, but her back’s put up all the same.

She’s probably just in a bad mood over Tayce.

“I hope it’s okay I brought them,” Lawrence says, apologising for their very presence for the second time that evening.

“Hey, the more people here to get drunk and forget about the overwhelming stress of deadline season, the better,” the girl shrugs cheerfully, then waves to nobody in particular. “Nice to meet you all! I’m Jan, that’s Mik. Can I learn names? Pronouns if you want to as well?”

Lawrence slaps her thigh decisively. “Crackin’ idea, I’ll start. I’m Lawrence and my pronouns are she/her, or fat/bastard.”

The room is filled with hysterical laughter that immediately breaks any ice that had been present between the freshers and the second year students. As they all introduce themselves politely, A’whora doesn’t fail to notice the way Mik’s eyes light up when Bimini introduces themself.

“Hey, do you know if they’re single?” Mik asks Lawrence, tipsy and sloppy and in a whisper that isn’t really a whisper. A’whora can’t help but laugh as she watches Bimini blush from their position on the sofa and smile over at Mik, flattered.

“Sorry to disappoint, babes, but I’m taken.”

It’s with Bimini’s words that Lawrence gives a yell of surprise and A’whora’s jaw drops open in shock. She can’t help the way she immediately looks wide-eyed at Tayce, and her heart jumps a hurdle when she sees her looking in her direction with much the same expression. Tayce’s shock at the secret Bimini’s kept from them prompts her to lurch forward on the sofa and give a cry of surprise.

“Ex-squeeze me, Bimini Bon Boulash?! Since bloody when ?!”

Bimini shrugs, clearly bashful. “Made things official with Asttina late on last month. Ain’t a big deal.”

“And when were you going to tell us this exactly? Were you gonna leave it in your last will and testament or something?!” A’whora cries, heart jarring at the laugh her words earn from Tayce.

Bimini stretches in their own catlike way, unbothered and laid back to an almost horizontal extent. “Well, you never asked.”

“What the hell?! This is big. C’mon Rory,” Tayce suddenly turns to A’whora and clutches at her hand frantically, and in doing so sends a thousand sparks flying between them. As A’whora’s pulse leaps, Tayce does the same off the sofa. “We need to go find the others. You ain’t getting away with just the three of us on this interrogation squad, Mx Bimini!”

“Alright, Line of effin’ Duty,” Bimini chuckles good-naturedly, and A’whora allows Tayce to drag her up off the sofa and through to the hall.

Tayce is giggling as she’s weaving them both through the crowd, and for a moment it’s like nothing has ever changed between them. A’whora’s not been keeping track of how many cans Tayce has had so far but she herself has only had three (two at pres, one here so far), so she’s not attributing that to the sudden personality transplant. She’s trying not to overthink it too much but this is the most authentic interaction she’s had with Tayce for a while, and it’s silly, but it’s hard to believe it’s not too good to be true.

For a moment, she’s almost glad Bimini didn’t tell them about Asttina if it meant she and Tayce could bond like this.

“Can you bloody believe it?!” Tayce squeaks at her as they reach the kitchen and, in turn, the punch bowl. Tayce wrenches two red cups from the stack beside it and fills them up with the ambiguous orange liquid that’s inside, pouring it sloppily and messily from the ladle. “I mean they’re meant to be our bloody friend! And then they don’t even tell us about the breaking news in their own love life! What goes on!”

“To be fair…” A’whora begins without thinking, then snaps her mouth closed as her heart shudders in her chest. She’d been about to say we kept us a secret from them too but she can’t bring that up now, send them crashing back down to earth and into the broken, uncomfortable bed they’ve somehow made. So she smiles tightly at Tayce who’s looking at her expectantly, takes the cup she’s holding out to her as she finishes her sentence. “...Bim’s always been a pretty private person.”

Tayce shrugs and holds the cup to her lips before she raises her eyebrows, takes it away and holds it out in the middle between them. “Cheers, slag.”

Silly and overeager, A’whora crashes their cups together then takes a too-big swig. The punch fills her mouth like poison and she feels her eyes grow wide as she swallows and then gags, Tayce doubling over laughing at her reaction.

“What the fuck is in that?!” she cries with horror, looking at the cup with incredulity as Tayce continues to laugh at her expense.

“It’s called punch for a reason, girl! It ain’t some fruity dilutey Slug and Lettuce pornstar martini tree we’re talking about here!”

“Punch is right. Feel like I’ve been punched in the fucking stomach,” A’whora screws her face up. Tayce’s face lights up and her hand rests on A’whora’s arm as she launches into a story excitedly.

“Oh my God. D’you remember that time we made punch back near freshers week and Lawrence added that thing to it...fuck, what was it called?! She kept calling it ‘wreck the hoose juice’.”

“Buckfast!” A’whora remembers with glee, trying not to grow too animated because if she moves she might scare Tayce away like she’s some sort of rare bird. This is the closest she’s been to Tayce in every sense for quite a while, and the moment is so magical that she’s determined not to let it slip away.

“That was it! And then the next day we were all so ill we were like...convinced we’d been spiked! But it was just that bloody Buckfast!”

As the pair of them giggle, A’whora starts laughing harder as she remembers what Tayce had said.

“Sorry, but hearing the words ‘wreck the hoose juice’ in a Welsh accent is probably the funniest thing I’ve heard in weeks.”

Tayce removes her hand from her arm only to slap her on it. “Oh, because the same thing in a Worksop accent is so much better!”

“We should get Ellie to say it. She's Scottish, it'll sound the same as when Lawrence says it,” A’whora says, then scans her gaze around the room and narrows her eyes. “Where the hell is she, anyway? We still need to tell her and Tia about Bim.”

The roar of a countdown from ten down to one on the other side of the kitchen prompts both her and Tayce’s gazes to wrench in its direction, only for their eyes to fall on Tia glugging a horrific-looking brown concoction out of a pint glass and Ellie yelling descending numbers at her, along with Rosé’s flatmate they’d disappeared with and a crowd of strangers.

“Of course,” Tayce deadpans, earning a snort from A’whora. Just then, A'whora remembers some chat Ellie had told her while they were getting ready, and she turns to tell Tayce without thinking. It's just natural to tell Tayce these sorts of things by now, and she's missed doing so.

“You know Ellie told me earlier she’s gonna like...see what happens with Lawrence tonight?” A’whora relays to Tayce eagerly, before she forgets that Tayce had sworn her to secrecy about the whole thing and her mouth snaps shut. It’s too late though, because Tayce is fixing her with a single raised eyebrow and a smirk which shouldn’t make A’whora’s stomach flip over like it does.

Friends, friends, friends.

“God, wonder how come Ellie’s suddenly over Tia and open to Lawrence?” she teases her, and A’whora groans apologetically.

“Look, I know you said not to tell anyone but it was the day they had that row in the flat,” she explains, belatedly and awkwardly realising that it had been the same day that she and Tayce had had that conversation and everything had changed between them. A’whora tries to shake the feeling of regret as she carries on. “Ellie was saying how Lawrence didn’t care about her and all that and it...well, it just came out. I had to shut her up somehow.”

Tayce shakes her head and laughs, toeing the line between long-suffering and affectionate. When she takes A’whora’s hand and squeezes it the line is crossed, and a thousand fireworks go off in her bloodstream. Tayce's eyes are soft as she looks at her and it only makes A’whora’s heart hurt.

“My fault, really. Should’ve known you can’t keep a secret to save yourself.”

“Kept us a secret for long enough,” A’whora says before she can stop herself. She feels like slapping a hand over her mouth, a flimsy gesture illustrating her mistake, and from the way Tayce lets go of her hand and looks to the floor it seems she regrets it just as much as A’whora does.

Fuck.

When Tayce snaps her head back up there’s a smile on her face that A’whora knows is fake, and she sets her cup down on the counter as she looks back over at Ellie and Tia. “Right! You wait here and guard the punch. I’ll drag those two hounds over and we can give them the goss.”

A’whora nods as she takes her turn to look to the floor, and suddenly Tayce is off in the direction of their other flatmates and all she can do is sit and stew in her embarrassment and regret at having said the wrong thing yet-a-fucking-gain.

Ellie has told A’whora countless times to just talk to her! and that if you just sit and chat things through everything will be fixed! but it’s been things A’whora’s said that’s somehow got them into this mess, even though she still doesn’t really know what specifically it was that made Tayce make the decision to stop it all, to stop falling asleep together and waking up together and going on dates (because they were dates, and that’s the hill A’whora will die on) and talking to each other like they’d known each other for eight years and not eight months.

When she thinks about the ways she misses Tayce, the sex isn’t even the first thing that comes to mind. That’s how she knows she was in deep. Well, still is. But A’whora would be lying if she said she didn’t still think about Tayce when her hands are between her thighs, has to stop the memories that flood her head when she's in the shower, moans just that little bit too loudly when she uses her vibrator in the pathetic hope that Tayce will hear her through the wall.

She supposes there’s a ridiculous part of her that misses the intimacy and the closeness most of all.

“Aurora!”

A’whora’s dragged out of her thoughts and turns around to see Jan standing beside a tall blonde in a tight red dress. Even though her mind is still entirely preoccupied by Tayce, her mouth goes a little dry and her heart skips a beat because...well, she still knows an attractive girl when she sees one. She fixes the two girls with a polite smile as Jan gestures at the girl beside her.

“This is Brooke Lynn! She’s my friend from the design faculty that did fashion? Rosé was saying you wanted introduced.”

A’whora feels her cheeks flush red as Brooke cocks an eyebrow at her and smirks. “Truthfully, I’m flattered. Always happy to meet a fan.”

A’whora shakes her head and gives an embarrassed laugh. “That’s not...I mean-”

“I’m just fucking with you. Nice to meet you,” Brooke smiles lazily, leaning against the countertop as Jan slips away. “So Jan was saying you’re studying design too?”

“Yeah! I mean, it’s hell on earth just now, especially with deadline season coming up. But I do actually really enjoy it most of the time,” A’whora replies politely.

Brooke laughs in fond recollection. “God, I don’t miss that. Portfolios were a bitch.”

“Right!” A’whora agrees enthusiastically. “It’s quite nice, though, because lots of my flatmates are at the art school as well, so we kind of all have that shared bond of going through the shit together. Lawrence does textiles, Ellie does costume and Tayce does fine art. In fact, that’s Ellie and Tayce over there.”

A’whora turns to point to where Tayce has found Ellie, although she’s perturbed to see the two of them already looking their way. Ellie’s eyes widen as she gives them an awkward wave and Tayce immediately looks elsewhere, her entire body language shifty as if she’s been caught out.

A’whora’s pulse starts to race all over again. Is she…? No.

But then she thinks about that night in December when they first kissed, how A’whora had been driven so crazy by Tayce talking to so many other girls that she was basically forced to show her hand and her feelings. She knows they said they’d be friends, but this situation is being handed to her on a plate and she’d be an idiot to turn it down.

So A’whora flips some of her hair over her shoulder and exposes her neck as she tilts her head with interest. “So, Rosé was saying you graduated last year?”

She and Brooke Lynn talk for a while; A’whora doesn’t know if it’s five minutes or twenty, but with every passing minute she steps up the flirting just a little tiny bit more, so that it’s nearly imperceptible to any onlookers. Tayce is different though, because she’s not just any onlooker. To anyone else it just looks like two strangers getting to know each other at a party, but A’whora knows Tayce sees every time she tucks her hair behind her ears, every time she giggles behind her hands, every time she nods eagerly at whatever Brooke is saying.

She can feel Tayce’s eyes on her, and A’whora would be lying if she said it didn’t make her stomach flip over all the more.

She’s not getting much from Brooke, though: not much of a reaction, not much reciprocation, not much anything. So the moment she steps things up a bit and touches her lightly on the arm as she laughs at a joke she’s made, A’whora’s sure it’ll get her somewhere. Only Brooke pulls a face, moves her arm away and apologises.

“God, I’m sorry...you’re sweet, but I’ve actually got a girlfriend,” she explains, and A’whora feels herself blush, embarrassed at having been spurned but also that it was all in full view of Tayce. It’s made even worse by the way Brooke’s face lights up as her eyes fall on someone over A’whora’s shoulder. “In fact, here she is now! Hey, baby.”

Another girl appears from behind her and moves to stand beside Brooke, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. She’s small and pretty and hostile, and A’whora is suddenly regretting the entire making-Tayce-jealous endeavour if she’s about to get grief from Brooke’s girlfriend.

“And who the fuck is this bitch?” the girl says by way of an introduction, not so much a question but a demand.

“Vanessa…” Brooke looks at her warningly, but the girl continues regardless.

“Nah, I just wanna know what business she thinks she has comin’ onto my girl like this?” she narrows her eyes at A’whora. A’whora, for her part, has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow her more.

This never happened to Tayce in December, that’s for fucking sure.

“Honestly, babes, we were just talking. She’s just told me she’s taken, I would never have tried anything if I’d known,” she tries to explain, but judging from how the girl reacts she’s only made the situation worse.

“Babes? I ain’t your babe, Milkybar-Kid-lookin’ ass!” she cries, and A’whora feels her eyes darting to the punch bowl beside her, suddenly terrified that the liquid inside it could be used as a potential weapon. “Bet your damn life she’s taken, bitch!”

A’whora’s weighing up the options of apologising more or escalating this into a full-scale brawl (because really, who the fuck does this girl think she’s talking to?) when she feels a hand slip into the crook of her elbow and tug her away from the kitchen, the pint-pot Conor McGregor still yelling at her as she leaves.

“Okay, home time,” Tayce’s voice says, amusement coating her words and only serving to make A’whora feel worse. As she turns to look at her she sees Ellie on her other side, who ducks into the living room as Tayce picks up their jackets from the hooks in the hall.

“Tia wants to stay and keep drinking, think she’s found some of her MT friends here,” Tayce explains, handing A’whora her coat with a little smile. “Ellie’s gone to get Lawrence and Bim. What the bloody hell was that, girl?”

A’whora rolls her eyes petulantly, annoyed that her plan hadn’t exactly been as successful as she’d hoped. “Well, you know what they say. The hot ones are always taken.”

“Not always,” Tayce shrugs at her, a little twinkle in her eye as Ellie reappears with Lawrence on her arm.

“Bim’s gonny stay and look after Tia. They’re staying at Asttina’s tonight, anyway, so they can drop Tia off at ours or Veronica's depending on what she wants to do,” Lawrence explains, only a little unsteady on her feet. “Anyway, what’s this I’m hearing about A’whora being a homewrecker?”

As they leave the party, A’whora reluctantly tells the story and the three of them all laugh and joke in response. If she’s being honest, Tayce finding the whole thing funny isn’t the worst thing to come out of the whole situation. She’s not annoyed or ignoring her, and at least that’s some form of progress, as ridiculous as it seems.

The four of them walk home full of tipsy, carefree joy, Lawrence’s voice bouncing off the buildings in the streets as she sings Rain On Me and the others all join in with Ariana’s whistle tones. They fill the air with their horrendous, off-key yelling and no doubt awaken everyone who’s unfortunate enough to own a flat on the main road, but none of them care.

Lawrence and Ellie’s arms are still linked, the pair of them leaning into each other as they walk, but Tayce hasn’t afforded A’whora the same affection. Which is fine. They’re not what they were now, whatever the hell they had been. They’re friends, but A’whora isn’t sure that label is meant to make it feel as if a broken shard of glass is getting jammed through her heart every time she uses it.

It’s fine.

Their hands still brush against each other every so often as they walk, though, ghosts of moments when they’d hold hands in bed and Tayce would trace around her fingers silently and intimately. The sporadic contact only seems to amplify the electricity that’s already so present in the atmosphere. A’whora thinks back to the party, talking in the kitchen with the girl who was Tayce’s opposite in every way. She doesn’t know if she’s being deluded when she thinks about Tayce being jealous. She hopes she was, though. Really it’s not like she has any right to be; A’whora can do what she wants with who she wants, and if Tayce wanted her to herself then she should have…

Well. A’whora knows what she should’ve done.

If it hadn’t been for Brooke’s tiny pitbull girlfriend coming in and yelling the place down, A’whora would’ve probably tried to kiss her. Not that she wanted to kiss her. Not that she was even really hugely attracted to her like she is to Tayce. But she’s intoxicated by the idea of Tayce watching her kiss someone else and burning up with regret and hurt, wishing it was her in Brooke’s place. But Tayce clearly hasn’t been bothered by the whole thing, A’whora thinks, as they laugh and quote lines from Tracey Beaker at each other while they walk. She’s not acting as if she’s annoyed at A’whora. She’s acting as if...well, as if they’re friends.

Which is what they agreed. A’whora doesn’t know why she expected anything different.

It takes the four of them five goes at inputting the code on the door to their block, yelling in delight when A’whora manages it and then frantically shushing each other as they ascend the echoey stairwell. It’s Tayce who unlocks the door to their flat and they all stumble in, still giggly and laughing.

“Kitchen afterparty?” Tayce suggests as soon as she’s over the threshold. A’whora’s ready to agree. Pathetically, after everything that’s happened, she’d still always agree to more time with Tayce.

Ellie shakes her head though, and as she pushes the door to her own bedroom open Lawrence moves to linger in its doorway too. “Nah. Too tired. You two have fun though.”

“Speaking of you two having fun,” A’whora jokes, pointing her finger at the two girls and wiggling her eyebrows. She dissolves into giggles as Ellie rolls her eyes and Lawrence’s face turns bright pink, happy she’s managed to get her own back for the endless teasing she and Tayce had to go through at the hands of their flatmates.

“Shut up. We’re gonna watch High School Musical 3, Lawrence hasn’t seen it,” Ellie explains, a look passing between the two girls that A’whora’s endlessly suspicious of.

“Oh, I haven’t seen that either! Can I join?” Tayce says lightly, A’whora smirking at her and seeing the twinkle in her eyes as she realises exactly what she’s trying to do. The question gets the desired reaction: Ellie’s eyes shoot wide open and Lawrence’s jaw drops as she tries to think of an explanation as to why Tayce can’t join in their impromptu, cosy movie night.

Tayce puts them out of their misery a second later. “You know what actually, I think I’ll just head to bed too after all.”

The visible relief on the two girls’ faces makes A’whora stifle a laugh, and as they all say goodnight she catches sight of Ellie taking Lawrence’s hand as the door closes. A’whora’s eyes meet Tayce’s as they’re left on their own, both girls laughing softly at the situation.

“Cute. Good for them,” Tayce smiles gently, before looking at the floor bashfully. “You down, then? Kitchen afterparty?”

A’whora’s stomach twists awkwardly. As tempted as she is and as much as she wants to, she feels as if more alcohol would make the current situation worse, and if they’re going to try to be friends then they need to commit to it. So she shakes her head, watches as something shuts down behind Tayce’s eyes. “I’m gonna get some water and then head to bed. Sorry.”

“Water seems like a good idea,” Tayce shrugs, and as A’whora peels off down the corridor towards their kitchen Tayce follows behind her.

Neither of them bother to turn the light on when they get to the kitchen- filling up a glass and taking a few quick sips doesn’t take a long time- and the light from the hall paired with the glow through the window from the streetlamps outside is just enough to ensure A’whora can see what she’s doing as she takes a glass out of the cupboard overhead and fills it up, glugging at it quickly. She can feel Tayce waiting at the sink behind her, but doesn’t turn to make eye contact. The silence is tense and deafening and awkward. Friendship no longer suits them.

So when A’whora turns around from the sink and Tayce is closer to her than she thought with a sparkle in her eyes, she is immediately struck down with all the feelings she’s tried to suppress. Tayce boxes her in, one hand on the edge of the countertop at either side of her, and as she leans in she’s got a little smirk on her face.

“Tayce, wh-”

“Shhh,” Tayce whispers, before leaning in and kissing her, slow and gentle but with an underlying intensity that makes a heat pool in the pit of A’whora’s stomach. She becomes so caught up in the moment that she almost forgets about everything they’d said, everything they vowed they’d stop doing.

So A’whora pulls away, but the needy whine Tayce gives and the way she moves her hands to rest at her waist makes her have second thoughts. She smiles a little, cocks her head to mock her just a tiny bit. “We said we weren’t doing this again.”

Tayce gives another whine, pushes one of her hands a little higher to rest at A’whora’s ribcage. “I know, it’s a really bad idea.”

Tayce drops her head to rest on A’whora’s shoulder, presses light kisses to her neck that are too much and not enough all at once. A’whora hears herself gasp into the kitchen, already equal parts frustrated and desperate.

“You should probably stop kissing my neck, then,” she breathes out, hissing as Tayce’s lips hit a sensitive spot that doesn’t make the situation any better at all.

“You should probably stop acting like you like it so much,” Tayce smiles against her skin, punctuating her sentence with another kiss before adding, “Or else I wouldn’t do it.”

“Yeah, it’s all my fault, isn’t it?" A’whora giggles, looking to the ceiling in exasperation as she already knows how this is going to end.

It’s fun to let Tayce work for it a little, though.

“All your fault, you bad girl,” Tayce murmurs, pulling away from A’whora’s neck and instead keeping her eyes trained on her as she runs her hands up the sides of her thighs and under her skirt. If Tayce is looking for a reaction then she’s got one, because the feeling of Tayce’s fingers against her skin is filling A’whora’s head with all sorts of memories that’re making it even harder to stick to the rules they both set.

“You looked so good tonight,” Tayce murmurs, her eyes cast down to the floor. The praise makes A’whora’s heart race twenty times harder than it already is. She pouts, brings her own hands to rest at Tayce’s hips.

“I was so pretty, wasn’t I?" she teases, not missing the way Tayce’s eyes flutter closed at her words. She decides to twist the knife a little. “Bet you’re so gutted I wasn’t picking my whole outfit out thinking about you. You can’t stand to see me talking to other girls, that’s why you need to corner me in the kitchen to get a reaction, right?”

“Worked though, didn't it?” Tayce smirks, running one finger along the edge of her underwear and sending a shiver down A’whora’s spine. She’s so determined not to let Tayce win whatever game they’re playing though so she takes one hand off her waist, reaches behind her for the glass of water she’d poured that’s still half full.

“Hasn’t worked yet, we’re just talking,” A’whora smiles smugly, sipping from the glass whilst looking Tayce dead in the eye. She gets met with an equally challenging look, one that makes her squeeze her thighs together.

“Yeah, we didn’t make rules against talking,” Tayce says, bringing one of her hands up to brush a little piece of hair out of A’whora’s face and tuck it behind her ear. The contact makes A’whora’s whole body tingle as Tayce continues speaking. “Didn’t make rules against me telling you how much I want to fuck you against this counter and watch you have to try and be quiet.”

“Tayce!” A’whora laughs in shock, at once annoyed and turned on by the smirk that appears on Tayce’s face. She brings her arms up to circle around Tayce’s neck, pulls her a little closer so they’re pressed up against each other.

“Didn’t make rules against me telling you how all night I’ve been thinking about flipping that skirt up and touching you and feeling how wet you are,” Tayce mutters darkly, pushing her knee in between A’whora’s thighs as if to make her point. A’whora can only bite her lip to stop herself from giving a whimper of a response, because Tayce is busy reducing her to a puddle right in the middle of the kitchen and she can’t give her the satisfaction of appearing needier than she already is.

“Or how much I want to tell you exactly what a perfect angel you are while you’re riding my fingers and begging me for it-”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” A’whora sighs before Tayce’s lips cut her off and they’re kissing again, messy and hot and desperate and everything A’whora’s wanted for weeks. They can’t be friends when they’re so good like this, when they know just what the other likes and wants and needs, and A’whora needs Tayce so much.

Tayce pulls away only to murmur against A’whora’s lips. “Tell me what you want, babe.”

A’whora pulls back a little, taking a little breath of composure as she tries to form her words. “Want you to do all that. Everything you said.”

She can see she’s said the right thing from the way Tayce paws at her waist and slides a hand up the side of one of her thighs. She gives her a funny sort of smile. “Might need to beg me for it a little bit.”

A’whora pouts involuntarily at her words, moves a hand to cup Tayce’s jaw. “Shouldn’t have to beg when I know how much you want me.”

“Hmm. Sounds like something a spoiled brat would say,” Tayce smirks, leaning against her and pushing her thigh a little higher so that A’whora is pressed right up against it. When A’whora grinds down and Tayce’s eyes grow dark it sends a little thrill of delight down every single nerve ending in her body.

Tayce runs her tongue over her bottom lip before she whispers again. “If I didn’t want you like this so badly I’d take you over to those sofas and spank all this bad behaviour out of you.”

“Yeah, you want to watch me put my pretty little ass in the air for you, don’t you?” A’whora murmurs, squirming against Tayce’s thigh again. She can feel herself throb against her and it feels so good, fucking insanely good, but she hopes Tayce is going to give her what she wants sooner rather than later because she doesn’t want to end up coming just from this.

Tayce pulls her in for a kiss again, more frantic than the last, and as their lips crash together A’whora pushes her hands into Tayce’s hair, tugs on it in the hopes it’ll get a reaction out of her. Tayce gasps against her and it elicits a reaction in A’whora that’s so visceral that she bucks her hips again, the friction making her whine.

“Think you need to start begging or else you’re gonna come and I’m not even gonna get to touch you,” Tayce says as she pulls away, biting her lip and raising her eyebrows triumphantly when A’whora hisses out a fuck .

“Please, Tayce,” she swallows her pride and begs, her fingers playing lightly with the straps of Tayce’s top as she hears her hum in consideration.

“Not sure that’s quite enough begging for making me stand and watch you flirt with another girl at that party. Maybe I could just walk away and watch how you react to having nothing to fuck yourself against at all,” Tayce whispers as A’whora rides her thigh needily, but the tone to her voice tells A’whora she’s not anywhere near serious.

“You like watching me get all wound up way too much to do that.”

“I do,” Tayce leans in, rests her forehead against A’whora’s as she tugs her top up from where it’s tucked into the waistband of her skirt and skims her fingers against her bare skin. “I love watching you get exactly what you want, you look so pretty when you want to come. Hair all messed up and biting your lip like such a perfect little mess.”

A’whora feels her stomach flip over and the heat grow between her legs as she begins to get worn down. Her hands drop down to grab Tayce’s ass through her jeans, tries to pull her closer even though there's already hardly any distance between them. “Please, Tayce, want you so much.”

“Just wanna make my princess feel so good,” Tayce pouts mockingly, and it’s almost sinful enough to make A’whora disregard the “my” that Tayce drops in the middle of her sentence. It hurts A’whora’s feelings more than she’d care to admit, so as revenge she gives a self-indulgent shudder against Tayce’s thigh, lets out a moan that’s too loud and makes Tayce’s eyes grow wide.

“The girls are gonna hear,” Tayce warns her, leaning in for three short kisses which she clearly delights in pulling away from each time.

At this point A’whora thinks she’s being driven slowly insane and so she finally lets her pride crumble to the ground, well and truly demolished as she gives a desperate whine. “Fuck, please , baby, please, please, please, need you so much, please.”

Tayce smirks at her triumphantly and tilts her head. “There. That wasn't hard, was it?”

It’s then that A’whora breaks. As she loops her finger around the velvet choker Tayce is wearing and crashes their lips together again she only breaks the kiss to hop up onto the counter, spreading her legs wide and feeling a flutter of anticipation between them as Tayce immediately gets to work, gently trailing her fingers up the inside of her thighs and making A’whora’s mouth drop open. She tugs her lace underwear down so it’s sitting at her knees, rips her top and her bra off and brushes her fingers over her nipples, presses hot, wet open-mouthed kisses over what feels like every inch of bare skin. A’whora is such a panting, incoherent mess that she almost doesn’t notice that Tayce has stepped back a little. When she opens her eyes she can see her sweeping a long, slow glance down her body, her pupils blown and her jaw slack.

“You are a fucking miracle ,” she gasps in awe, and A’whora immediately feels herself growing shy, Tayce’s words making her feel more naked than the fact she’s sitting on their kitchen counter half-dressed. Tayce seems to grow a little reserved as well, maybe picking up on the reaction A’whora’s given her, and when she leans in to kiss her again it’s slow and languid in the same way that honey falls from a spoon.

There’s a pause in the kiss where Tayce hooks her fingers over the waistband of A’whora’s underwear and pulls it off of her completely, leaving her free to trail her fingers up the soft skin on the inside of A’whora’s thigh and make her buck against thin air helplessly. Tayce fans her fingers against her thigh and lazily swipes a thumb over A’whora’s slit, the moan of relief A’whora lets out and the little gasp Tayce gives piercing through the quiet of the kitchen.

“So wet for me,” Tayce breathes out all at once, dropping her lips to her neck and kissing her. There’s a second where she bites and sucks at her skin, making A’whora gasp and giggle guiltily and squirm against her touch. Tayce’s lips are hot against her skin as she continues. “I would be on my fucking knees if I didn’t want to look at your gorgeous face the whole time.”

“Tayce, please,” A’whora begs, bouncing a little on the countertop as she desperately and wordlessly tries to get Tayce’s thumb to circle her clit. She suspects Tayce is being deliberate with the contact; she knows if she holds back then A’whora will just start begging her desperately like she did before.

The little smirk that appears on her face confirms her suspicions. “What is it, baby?”

A’whora grinds down but Tayce only flicks her thumb away, the frustration she feels and the way she’s practically aching in response turning Tayce’s little playful smile into a shit-eating grin. A’whora feels her bottom lip stick itself out and she whines needily. “You know what.”

“Aww. You not able to use your words any more, princess?” Tayce pouts mockingly back at her, and in response A’whora brings her hands up under the hem of Tayce’s top and skates her nails down her back. It seems to have the desired reaction as Tayce pulls her hand away for a second, A’whora subsequently drawing in a deep, shaky breath as she feels Tayce’s fingers slide deep inside her, her thumb rubbing gentle circles against her clit and leaving her feeling so overwhelmed that she tips her head forward to rest on Tayce’s shoulder.

“Fuck, so good,” she whispers, shuddery and breathy against Tayce's neck as she rides her fingers. Going from minimal teasing to having her every need met all at once is rendering her almost speechless but as she straightens up she finds she wants to keep talking if only to see the way Tayce blinks slowly and heavily as she collects herself, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she watches A’whora become more and more wound up. “So perfect, keep going...fuck…”

“God, I wish you could see what you look like right now,” Tayce hisses, curling her fingers and managing to hit a spot that makes A’whora squeeze her eyes shut and bite down hard on her lip to stop herself from squealing in ecstasy. She keeps her eyes closed as Tayce keeps talking to her, every word making her melt and only intensifying the waves of bliss that are racking her body. “You’re so beautiful, Aurora, oh my God, so, so, so gorgeous...perfect fucking angel…”

A’whora presses a frantic hand to Tayce’s jaw and pulls her in to kiss her again, but they’re unable to make it last all that long when they’re both breathing so heavily and A’whora is rocking so much against Tayce’s fingers it makes her momentarily wonder about how sturdy the countertops in their shithole of a flat actually are. It’s at the point now where A’whora is feeling so soaking wet and overstimulated that she can’t even form a single thought apart from just fuck , so how she manages to form a sentence Christ only knows.

“Missed getting me like this?”

“Like what, baby, a dripping wet desperate mess?” Tayce’s free hand grips her thigh just that little bit tighter in response. “Missed it so fucking much.”

Her words make A’whora shiver with lust, and something inside her curls like a tightly wound spring. She can feel her orgasm building with every passing second but there’s something different about how it usually feels; it’s all far more intense and all-consuming than normal as if every single one of her nerve endings are buzzing in anticipation. She’s completely incapable of speech now, only breathy little moans and needy whines as Tayce keeps whispering into her ear about how perfect she is, how pretty and gorgeous and beautiful, all the while fucking her gently and pulsing her fingers against that spot deep inside her and teasing her clit.

It’s because of her lack of words that A’whora can’t give Tayce much of a warning when suddenly her body seems to leap two levels at once and she’s so dangerously close that all she can do is urgently whisper Tayce’s name before her moans get increasingly louder and louder, her orgasm rips through her, and she swears she comes harder than she’s ever done before in her life. Everything is throbbing so violently that all A’whora can do is let out broken cries into the silent kitchen, completely unable to care about who could hear her. Her orgasm seems to last a few seconds longer than usual and it takes her by surprise, and her body is so racked from it that she needs a couple of seconds to compose herself. She breathes raggedly with her forehead against Tayce’s shoulder, and she can feel the other girl rubbing her back gently with her free hand.

It’s Tayce who speaks first, her voice humoured as she whispers quietly into the silence and slides her fingers out of her slowly and carefully. “Fuckin’ hell, girl. I could feel that.”

A’whora has to take two little breaths before she lifts her head off Tayce’s shoulder and replies with the only word she can form. “Shit.”

Tayce giggles, and it’s so endearing that A’whora feels her heart swell with affection and maybe a little something deeper. She’s barely got time to dwell on it before Tayce locks eyes with her, a little sparkle in them as she takes the same two fingers she’d fucked A’whora with seconds ago and wraps her lips around them, sucking them into her mouth before drawing them out and letting her eyes flutter closed. “You taste so good, fuck.”

At that point, A’whora could've just stayed silent. Or responded with something else. Or just pulled Tayce in for another kiss before returning the favour. But no- she has to ruin it by opening her mouth and saying the first thing that comes into her head, a stupid joke that’s only going to hurt her instead of make her laugh.

“I don’t think that’s something that friends do.”

Tayce’s expression falters and her palms come to rest on A’whora’s thighs. Her gaze is fixed on the floor and there's a small pause before she replies quietly. “Well maybe I don’t want to be friends.”

Every cell in A’whora’s body freezes up and she’s rendered almost motionless at Tayce’s response. She doesn’t even care about how desperate she comes across as she replies almost breathlessly. “What do you want, then?”

Tayce doesn’t meet her eyes. The seconds tick by. Her palms slip off A’whora’s thighs and come to rest at her sides.

“Tayce?”

Tayce takes a step back, casts her gaze to the ceiling this time. She seems to be looking everywhere but at her. A’whora watches her press her lips together, bring her arms up to wrap herself in a hug. The silence grows longer and more ominous, storm clouds hanging over the two of them that are heavy with rain.

And then it dawns on A’whora that what Tayce must be feeling is all-encompassing regret. She regrets it all. Everything she said, everything they just did. She’s dug herself into a hole that she can’t escape from.

So A’whora helps her out of it. The tears flood her eyes as she hops down from the kitchen counter, snatches up her clothes with her face burning from embarrassment, and her hot tears run down her face almost as fast as she dashes back to her room. She’s completely humiliated, and she’s not going to stick around to talk things out.

Tayce doesn’t yell after her, doesn’t come back down the corridor for her, doesn’t stand at her door and knock and ask to be let in. Instead there is only silence and darkness, and all A’whora can do is lie down on her bed and sob into her pillow, trying her hardest not to make a sound but wondering if she's failing even at that.

[scandeniall]

no limit to you

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x reader

summary: “Knew right from the start there was no limit to you.” sakusa’s gonna go far and you know it. a look at your relationship throughout some months. (Started out based on Feels by Kehlani but yeah that went left)

warnings: profanity, starts as college students, manga spoilers about career. implied sex, little bit of angst but for like 10 seconds. 

wc: 5.4k holy shit this took me all week

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 2, month 6 

“He is the Black Jackals big and promising rookie,” Your heart couldn’t help but swell with pride as the speaker's voice carried across the gym (?). Despite the less theatrical introductions awarded to MSBY you couldn’t help but cheer loudly even yelling out the stupid nickname given to Sakusa by his teammates. One that he insists that he hates. “Go, omi-omi!” To anyone else it’d just look like another stale glance at the speaker, but you didn’t miss the tiniest of smile that graces his face. 

It’s his time to shine and you’re by his side to witness it all. — Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Month 3 

The sound of rain pounding against the building mixed with the sound of landing volleyballs and squeaking shoes. The men’s volleyball practice is approaching hour 3 and despite Sakusa insisting that you could have just headed back to your apartment you were there anyways. One reason for it was because you knew with him living so close he didn’t drive to campus and despite his tendencies for cleanliness, that’d he’d swallow his pride enough to catch a ride with one of his teammates to avoid the torrential downpour. You figured he’d at least appreciate a ride from you, whose car he knew was relatively clean instead (clean mostly because he always made cleaning and disinfecting your car a “couple activity” every weekend). Another reason was simply because you missed him and was ready to propose getting dinner together. Waiting for him wasn’t a problem anyways, the row of tables overlooking the gym were quite spacious and you utilized the time to get some procrastinated work done. As your small break and time spent switching between the same 3 apps comes to an end you pull up your Snapchat one last time the camera zooming in on sakusa for a few seconds with the caption “a superstar”. You knew Sakusa would frown and scold you for it later (the guy hates being put on stupid Snapchat), but also knew he secretly like when you showed how proud you were. The man was truly destined for greatness and you knew there were no limits to how far he could go. Of course with the relative newness of your relationship, you’ve never told him that. After one last check to make sure the video posts, music flows back into your ears as you began the last hour stretch. “You could’ve gone home you know.” Was the first thing you heard the second the dark haired male sat in the chair in front of you. Plucking your earbuds out all you could do was shrug. “Now is that anyway to greet your cinnamon apple,” you laughed at the displeased look on his face, or more so in his eyes. He must've put his mask on before leaving the locker room. Sakusa was never really one for nicknames and whenever you’d call yourself something from a vine from a thousand years ago he couldn’t hide the scowl on his face. 

“All done for the day?” At his nod of assurance you start packing up your bag as Sakusa just watched. He cringed at how you chaotically just packed your papers and laptop into your bag. No folders, or even a ouch for writing utensils. He’d have to get you one. As you finished picking up and fished your keys out of your bag’s pocket you notice Sakusa pull his mask down as he crossed to step in front of you. Placing a quick kiss on your lips, “thank you for waiting.” — Tap. Tap. Tap. Click. Tap. The sounds of scribbling mixed alongside flipped pages and the soft conversations of fellow library goers. The words of the textbook in front of you were beginning to look like gibberish and with that cane even more unconscious fiddling of your pen, a fact not lost on your boyfriend. The sound being so close and frequent broke him out of his own focus bubble. When you insisted the two of you have a study date, you were unsurprisingly met with the excuse of neither of you having the same major. “It doesn’t matter, we can just sit in the library. It’s spending quality time together Kiyoomi,” you’d told him. And it was true, sort of. After you’d finally got into the groove of studying, time seemed to fly and just knowing he was there was comforting enough. “(Y/N). You’re distracting me.” Sakusa was too blunt for his own good sometimes. All you could offer was a mumbled half assed apology, watching as he attempted to focus on his work again. You however? Were done for the time being, deciding to preoccupy yourself with your phone and taking not so sneaky glances at the man sitting in front of you. 

“If you paid as much attention to your work as you did me, you’d be doing better in that class.” Maybe he had a point, but who cared. It's not like you were failing the course. Taking another glace up you manage to catch his eye before responding.

“But you're prettier.”

--

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Month 7

You felt the dip in the bed first. A warm hand resting softly on your back next. Finally your favorite person’s voice. “You're coming to the game right.” You were so tired that you couldn't  even be bothered to turn and face the voice.

“Of course. First home game in a while,” you hum out, eyes still closed basking in the softness of the blanket. The weather had been terrible for the past week, completely draining any energy and remaining motivation you had to finish the rest of the semester. Sakusa, on the other hand, had seemingly been unaffected and you envied his tunnel vision like nature. “I can’t wait to see you win y’know.” Sakusa thanked his lucky stars, that your eyes were still closed, because if not you may have seen the red that dusted the tops of his ears. You could hear the sound of hangars knocking in the closet before inquiring about the noise.

“You don’t have a clean jersey for tomorrow’s game right.” He knew that you had a general school fan jersey, but he meant something more specific. One with his number on the back.  

“Nothing is guaranteed. The other team is pretty good too.”

“Yeah well, you're better.” --

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 1 If you heard one last critiquing remark from your boyfriend you were going to scream. Or kill him, which currently sounded like the better option. It started with him telling you your kitchen smelled weird, the food cooked hours earlier obviously not Sakusa approved. Next came him cringing as he inquired when was the last time you or roommate had vacuumed the living room. Then came his annoyed look when he noticed your skincare products all over the bathroom counter because you had to rush out this morning. The last straw came as he said something about you getting germs all over your face as you dug the palms of your hands into your eyes. While that one had some validity you were fucking tired. School was sucking, your coworkers are annoying and your boyfriend is a fucking dick. “Can you not try to not be a germaphobe asshole for two seconds, Sakusa,” you exclaim, not even bothering to face him from your spot at your desk. “Do better with cleaning then.” 

“What are you, my dad.”

“If I were, you’d know how to clean up properly.”

It was official. Sakusa, Kiyoomi fucking sucks. The tension in the air had grown. Between your pissed stress related retorts and sakusa’s stupid passive aggressive insults the two of you had navigated far away from just arguing about germs. You’d both begun bringing up past situations and feelings that you’d both previously kept buried. 

“Half the time I don’t even know if you fucking like me.” That was a lie. He cared and you knew it. But former insecurities paired with his generally aloof nature whenever the two of you were in public caused you to mention it. Insecurties concerning how he was on his way to something great, and that he’d leave you behind with a stupid college degree that you didn’t even know how you were going to use. You’d long abandoned your desk chair, opting to pace around the room. If his eyes were knives, you’d be long dead with the way he was glaring. You hadn’t noticed, but Sakusa even pulled his mask down to engage in this argument. 

“Well thats just stupid. But since you're bringing it up, do you even like me,” Sakusa sneered causing you to stop in place.“You’re going out an awful lot these days. Partying more than you used to, aren’t you.” Your state of disbelief hadn’t been lost on him, in fact you looked as if you were going to start laughing at any moment. The way he condescendingly spoke your name sent chills down your spine. “Can’t help but wonder what you’re doing.”

“Oh so now I’m cheating-.” 

“I’m just pointing out what I’ve noticed.” He’d hit the realization that he messed up the second the insinuation left his lips. However, he was too far in and so were you. He’d have to make it up to you later, he began to think. Until your humourless laugh filled the air, striking a cord in him, bigger than you’d ever done. This entire night you’d been a ticking time bomb, and were ready to explode. 

“Now why the fuck, would I put up with you if I didn’t love you. A year of my life just wasted huh.” The revelation of your love causes Sakusa to pause. Of course the two of you loved one another. It was shown in the little actions. But, until now neither of you had ever uttered the three words to one another.

“(Y/N-)”

“Newsflash, Kiyoomi, you're not an easy person to love. You nag me about shit that only bothers you, and I put up with it. I can’t even come around you with mismatched socks”

“You never want to go out to any kind of party with me and I want you there, yet I’m always willing to go out when you have to with the team.”

“You barely even show that you like me in public. I’ve had friends ask me are we even really dating.”

The end of your rant was accompanied by silence on both of your ends. You were drained. Your throat hurt and your eyes stung. But more importantly your heart ached.  Despite the tears building at the back of your eyes you were not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. Sakusa on the other hand was deep in thought. The tug on his heartstrings at your admittance was foreign. He didn’t want to say anything to further upset you, and had gotten to know you enough to know you’d want to be alone after a time like this. 

The hand that grabbed yours almost felt foreign as Sakusa led you towards your bed. The already long day ending with a quick kiss against your temple, a promise to see you later, and an aching heart. 

--

“Did you and Sakusa- like break up or something,” your friend inquired. It's been 9 days since you’d last heard from Sakusa, and your mopey mood hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. On top of you being unusually downcast they noticed that you hadn’t attended the most recent match. You always went to home games. You already had to deal with the aftermath of your roommate being home and hearing your argument that night, you hadn’t exactly been that quiet during the ordeal. 

The next morning marked the start of the weekend, which you’d spent a large part of the day in bed. In the middle of you bothering to fix dinner, your roommate had come home interrupting your pity party. You liked your roommate, you did and the two of you were friendly. But the two of you definitely were not best friends and for them to come home and see you for the first time post argument- awkward. 

“Yo- (Y/N), did you hear me? You and Sakusa break up or something,” your friend repeated, breaking you out of your wandering thoughts. “Or something,” you muttered bitterly. The lunch in front of you suddenly looked unappealing. The melting ice cubes floating in your drink taking away your attention. 

Just as you began to take your mind off Sakusa in preparation to try and have a relatively normal weekend, your friend just had to bring him up. You loved her, but she was a dumbass for that one. Your entire car ride home you turned on your breakup playlist one you’d made during the demise of your last relationship back in highschool. Something about Miley Cyrus’ 7 Things felt more relatable than ever now that you were older. 

Entering your apartment, you waved a greeting to your roommate who looked strangely happy. “Oh (Y/N), you’ve got a gift.” Ok- why the hell was she so cheery about a gift to you. Eying her suspiciously, your roommate pointed past you and your eyes widened.

“Who-”

“Who do you think? Dropped them off a little over an hour ago. Looked disappointed when he realized you weren’t here.”

You half mumbled something kin of appreciation for telling you as you walked toward the kitchen table to see a bouquet of roses, and a card with neatly scribbled handwriting you recognized immediately. 

“One rose for every month of putting up with me being a germophobic asshole. Google also said roses meant love. Hope you like them.

P.s: i missed you at the game (and in general)”

14 roses. He even included the two months where you teetered the line between friends and partners. You couldn’t help but laugh at his use of your word choice to describe him. You hadn’t even noticed your roommate peering over your shoulder until she spoke. “He means well. You two should work it out.” If you weren’t planning to before you sure as hell were going to now. “Yeah,” you mused. “You're right.

The gears in your head were absolutely turning, thinking about how you’d reach back out to Sakusa. Obviously he’d been the bigger person and made the first contact, and yeah he was definitely being a jerk that night, but so were you. You were so caught in your own thoughts as you made your way down the short hallway to your room that you hadn’t even noticed the slight rustling. Opening your door you were met with an even bigger surprise. 

Sakusa. In your room, gloved up, vacuum out-He was cleaning? Your room?. Your brain short circuits as you were at a loss for words.

“Kiyoomi?” The sound of your roommate teasing telling you two to keep it down went beyond your span of comprehension as you just stood in the doorway. “You should close the door. 

---

After you got past the initial shock of seeing Sakusa, he’d taken his gloves off and sat on your bed wordlessly patting the spot next to him. After a brief moment of silence you were the first one to speak. Afterall, he did take the first step at mending your relationship. Now it's your turn. “I’m sorry Kiyoomi. For snapping at you, questioning how you felt when I knew better. I was a bitch for that one. 

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. I knew how stressed you were already and made it worse. I know how you get when you're upset, and came to straighten up for you.”

“Thanks for that one. I’ll admit, it was starting to bother me too.” A silence filled the air as you shifted closer. Enough so that you could rest your head on his shoulder. 

“I know you’re not cheating on me-“

“Wow, how did you figure that out. You are SO smart,” you faked gasped. The  teasing comment released any lingering tension between you and before you knew it Sakusa had his normal frowny face at you. The one he tended to get when you jokingly teased or annoyed him. One, never meant with any malice. A softer one reserved just for you. The moment passed quickly and as you removed your head from his shoulder you eyed him seriously. “I wouldn't do that Yoomi. You know that right?”

The thought of him even thinking you’d ever cheat on him didn’t sit right with you. In fact, it had been the main reason you were upset. You could work past anything else said. But that one? You needed to acknowledge it. Your question had been answered when you felt a hand gently rest on the side of your neck pulling you gently towards him. You were so close that you could feel the move of his lips as he reaffirmed what was already known. “I love you too (Y/N). The universe seemed to stop as Sakusa's lips moved softly against yours. you had moved your lingering hand to wrap around the wrist touching you, rubbing gentle circles on his inner wrist. A hold that unconsciously tightens as you felt his tongue languidly slip into your mouth and explore.This kiss was different than any you’d ever shared before. Different from the quick kisses shared when you’d two part ways at the end of dates. Different than the domineering good luck kisses given in quiet hallways outside the locker room before games. Than the tired kisses he’d reluctantly give because your tired whining grated his nerves. Hell, even different than the kisses shared the first time you two had sex. Those were just awkward. This kiss? Was loving. You two loved one another. Those feelings had been made more than clear to the other person. The universe always told you that falling in love too fast and too young would end in disaster. But you’d risk that if you could feel like this everyday. 

The need for air forced the two of you to pull away. In that time Sakusa had shifted the two of you so that he was resting against the headboard of your bed, your knees resting on the side of his knees. One hand on your thigh, other resting on your back. He looked so pretty like that. Puffy lips, heavily breathing, and with so much love for you. There was no doubt you looked the same. The rest of his forehead on your shoulder allowed you to gently play with his hair. 

“I’ll work on the other things too. But don’t expect me to take care of your drunk ass every weekend.”

--

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 1, Month 10 

“How’s it going Mr MVP.” You pushed your body off the chilled brick, as you eyed your boyfriend up and down. He looked good, really good. He’d just finished the last game of his collegiate career, one that had been won. Not only that, but he had been named MVP and a rookie to look out for going into Division 1 post graduation. 

You shifted your hands towards his face but before you could even rest them near you he stopped you with a mini hand sanitizer dangling in your face. “I’m sure you touched that brick while waiting.” After your hands were as sanitized as they could be, you hovered your hands over the corner of his mask, silently asking for permission to lower it. Once you got the go ahead, and felt his hands resting on your hips you pulled him down for a sweet kiss. After pulling away you left your hands wrapped around his neck and began playing with the hairs at the back of his neck. 

“You’re a fucking superstar Yoomi. You’re gonna go so far.” You revealed the thoughts that had been in the back of your mind since you met him. And it was true. You knew he’d been looking at a few professional teams, and no matter where he’d go the sky was the limit. 

“Now c’mon. It’s party time babe. Last college win celebration,” you cheered pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, and pulling his mask back out. You followed up by reaching into the pocket of his track jacket to pull out his car key. He kept true with his promise of getting better. Still hated unnecessary crowds, but was willing to sacrifice it occasionally to accompany you to celebratory parties. Granted he tended to hang out on less populated hallways, even better when parties continued outside. More space to move. The mask also stayed on. College kids are gross. 

—-

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you noticed your boyfriend move from his spot on the couch. The two of you had decided on a lazy movie night before the official finals grind began. Dead week was nearly here, and you knew the two of you would have little time to actually hang out. With the end of volleyball season, you’d been spending more time at Sakusa’s place deciding to just head there after class because it was closer. “Yoomi where are you going,” the wording came out more needed than you intended. You didn’t receive an answer, instead met with him disappearing in his room. You decided to just pause the movie, pulling out your phone to reply to a few text messages. Just as you hit send a Manila envelope was placed in your peripheral and Sakusa settled back into his corner of the couch. 

“What’s this,” you questioned, shifting so that you were looking at Sakusa. The only thing you were gifted with was a shrug and a motion to open the envelope. You hesitated a moment before your eyes widened

“Wait. Kiyoomi is this…”. The confident smirk told you everything you needed to know. This was it. There was no secret that Sakusa was most likely going to go pro after graduation, but no one knew what team he’d end up playing for. He’d had many people; Professors, coaches,teammates, acquaintances, parents ask what he planned on doing now that graduation was essentially on your doorsteps. No one ever got an answer out of him, including you. He hadn’t even hinted at any team preference to you, brushing it off and changing the subject whenever you tried to see where his head was. 

“Are you gonna open it or just stare.” You noted the slight waver in his voice, one that would have gone unnoticed to any ear untrained in the study of Sakusa Kiyoomi. You didn’t even know why you were so nervous, it wasn’t even your career. Taking a deep breath you pulled out the stack of papers, eyes drifting to the first paragraph mumbling the words aloud. 

“We are excited to have you. We welcome your commitment to MSBY Black Jackals-“ you would have dropped the stack of papers had you not had them tugged out of your tight grip and placed on the table in front of you. “Holy shit,” you exclaimed, launching yourself at your boyfriend (uncomfortably knocking him against the corner of the couch, but he’d let you have this moment.)

Next you started babbling about how proud you were of him in between kisses all over his face. (Another thing he’d let you have for the moment despite the feel of your lip balm also sticking onto his face”). You were so happy for him, that you didn’t even notice the blush making its way on his face. His hand settling themselves on your waist, he basked in the attention from you. 

When the shock managed to wear off, you had settled yourself into his lap. Sitting sideways, you had one hand playing with his hair, the other picking up your phone to record a video. 

“And today, we have the greatest volleyball player in the world commuting to the greatest team in the world,” you beamed the front camera on you both. 

“Look at that future (Y/N), Yoomi isn’t even swatting the camera away tonight. Looks like he looooooves me for once-“

“I always love you. You’re just annoying sometimes.” The jest was meant with a light kiss on your clothed shoulder before you continued, this time facing Sakusa instead of the camera

“Y’know. I knew right from the start there was no limit to you,” you spoke softly, eyes beaming.

“Is that so.” A real smile graced his face, as you moved the hand previously playing with his hair to gently trace over the moles on his face. “Thank you for believing.” You felt Sakusa take your phone from you cutting the camera. What took place after, definitely didn’t need to be caught on camera. 

—

The sun is beaming. The weather is incredible . You were high on happiness, adrenaline, pride and maybe a little bit of caffeine as you currently posed for what felt like your millionth picture in the past 5 minutes. You hadn’t even found your family yet, surrounded by 100s of your peers all celebrating the same accomplishment. You did it. You were a college graduate. You had a degree. You felt another tap on your shoulder, as you happily screamed to your friend you’d made being in the same program. 

“Dude I can't believe it!”

“Dude me either!” As the two of you took a quick selfie, your mind wandered to where and how Sakusa was doing. You hadn't seen him at all yet considering you both spent the mornings with your families who came into town. You wondered how he was doing with this whole thing. There were a shit ton of people out here after all. Before you could dwell on it, you felt your phone vibrate with none other than the man himself. You chuckled, already sending his irritation through the message as he told you to come to walk west, at the very edge of the crowd that was growing by the minute in the center. You sent a quick text to your mom about where you’d be, knowing your family were going to want a ton of pictures even with Sakusa. 

Your excitement grew further if even possible as you finally found him, throwing your arms around his neck into a tight hug, swaying the both of you. “We did it, Sakusa,” you said, finally pulling away and eying him. He’d taken his cap off already, opting for holding it instead, and having unzipped his gown. 

“We have degrees now,” he confirmed using his free hand to grab yours. “It’s too many people here.” All you could do was laugh as you eyed the control chaos going on just across the courtyard from you. You felt an odd sense of peace, just watching. The flowers planted just for graduation season even looked beautiful. Something you may not have paid nearly as much attention to had you not been dating Sakusa. 

In fact, if you weren’t dating him you knew you’d be in the middle of the chaos right now. Still happy no doubt, but being able to get away from it even for a few minutes felt amazing. You’d both be thrown back into it in a matter of minutes, squeezing in the last set of pictures with best friends and holding conversations with people you’d have to get used to not seeing several times a week. You knew that Sakusa was almost guaranteed to be forced into a picture with the other graduating volleyball players. 

“My families heading over I’m sure,” you hummed bringing your eyes back to Sakusa's profile. The look on his face slightly confuses you. You couldn’t quite tell if it were nerves, irritation, or just a result of squinting from the bright sun. 

“We’re gonna have to head back in soon”

“Do you want to move in with me”

The two of you spoke simultaneously. It was official. This is one of the best days of your life. 

--

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 2, Month 4 

“I’m gonna start dinner alright,” you called out as you pulled on one of Sakusa’s clean practice shirts and a pair of his old college sweats. Yes they were big,but they were more comfy than your own. Besides it was nothing a little, (read;a lot) of rolling and cuffing couldn’t fix. It was also his time of the month where you let him control the thermostat, and you’re cold! You’d just gotten out of the shower, him getting in shortly after coming home from a training day. The gym showers only do so much and he needed his own body wash is what he insisted the first time he came home and rushed immediately towards the bathroom. 

You pulled out the sheet of paper with a recipe printed on it, courtesy of your co-worker. Earlier in the week you mentioned how you were craving chicken but no other recipe in your arsenal seemed appealing. Lo and behold you were given a sheet of paper with a recipe that apparently his family loved after experimenting with a few online recipes. 

Before beginning you connect your phone to your speaker hitting shuffle. You manage to get all the ingredients out before a large knock sounds at your door. Confused, you yell out asking Sakusa if he was expecting anyone. You noticed the sounds of the shower ceased a few minutes ago, and that Sakusa would likely come to keep you company (more like sanitize the spice bottles the second you put one down.)

“Of course not,” with a shrug your wash your hands before gently opening the door. There’s a man. An attractive one- who looks oddly familiar. Wait, that guy is on Black Jackals, you note. Miya, Atsumu. 

“Um hi,” you greet sounding more like a question, opening the door a bit wider. 

“Shit! Did I come to the wrong apartment? I'm looking for Omi-Omi,” you noticed him trail off eyeing the shirt you were wearing. Omi-Omi? Sakusa must’ve heard him because the way he sprinted into the living room showed a scowl evident on his face. It even caused you to back up as Atsumu entered in. 

“Why are you here. And how did you find where I live,” sakusa for right to the point. 

“Aw c’mon Omi-Omi what if I missed ya. You left your earbuds in the locker room. Turned on you find my friends and matched the mailbox.” The glare on Sakusa’s face was one you recognized only when you genuinely irritated him. Not the one where he pretended to be annoyed but secretly wasn’t. 

“But enough about that. How come you didn’t tell me you were dating. I thought we were friends. Omi-Omi,” Atsumu whined out arms crossing over his chest. As you were looking at his arms/ respectfully/ you jumped in a teasing pout of your own. 

“Yeah Omi-Omi. Not telling your friends about me. A shame”

“Not you too.”

—

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 2, Month 6 

“You excited,” your question causes another wave of conversation between the men in the pre waiting area. Warmups were set to start in about 20 minutes. Shortly after you met Atsumu, he’d insisted you be introduced to the entire team. Afterall, other significant others got to hang out sometimes. Today was the day. Sakusa’s biggest match of his professional career yet. MSBY Black Jackals V Schweiden Adlers.

Receiving a mix of enthusiastic expletives, you turn towards your boyfriend who has yet to answer, prompting you to tease asking if he were nervous. 

“No. We’re going to win,”

“That's the spirit Omi-Omi! Gonna beat Wakatoshi this time,” This time you bit back your laugh, smirking at the Miya twin’s jest. You loved getting able to take a break from being annoying.  Sakusa, as per usual, noticed it. Getting up he motioned, that you follow him outside, ignoring the teases of getting a good luck kiss. 

The minute you two rounded the corner of the hallway, a warm hand enveloped yours. Your confused look prompts your boyfriend to cage you against the corner of the wall. His unoccupied hand resting against the side of your head.”

“I am excited.” While his expression remained unchanged, The look in his eyes said it all. It was the same twinkle he showed that time you two made up after admitting your love. And the one present after revealing his commitment to MSBY to you. “And you are going to win,” your reiteration caused a soft smile to catch his face. 

“Here's to you and your first major game Kiyoomi. And to many more because you're a star. Now go win.” 

a/n: well this has been a roller coaster. I challenged myself to write 5k words, and 95% of this was written at like 3am bc thats when i go to sleep. I also did this to try and gain a feel for him so i can finish his part in good & the bad  series. I really do be hoping this aint too ooc, bc while im caught up on the happenings of the manga from spoilers and twitter, i haven't actually gotten around to reading that far myself. also sorry for shitty formatting, ive never actually written a single body with this many words in a singular part ??? also i didnt edit this past google doc feature sooooo

anyways i did work hard and on this for the past week in between finals as a college junior so any comments and feedback are appreciated 

[umbry-fic]

Accuracy Issues

Summary: Lloyd appears to be facing a problem in the arena, and Colette comes up with the perfect solution! (With Zelos' assistance.)

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia, Tales of Crestoria Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Zelos Wilder Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel & Zelos Wilder Rating: G Word Count: 2515 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 04/08/2021

Notes: A semi-crack fic featuring arena (and evasion) and Crestoria game mechanics taken way too seriously. Dedicated to my lovely friend Marsh for jumpstarting this idea in the first place.

~~~

“Damn it.”

Swoosh. The slice of a sword through thin air.

“Damn it!”

Swoosh. Another followed quickly behind it, doing nothing but catching on the edge of purple fabric that quickly pulled away.

“Damn it!”

Lloyd groaned as a horn blared, the sound ricocheting between the rounded perimeters of the arena. He jammed one of his swords into the ground, the metal grating into place between the slats of stone with a deafening screech, audible even in the stands, where Colette and Zelos clapped their hands over their ears.

Sweat ran into Lloyd’s eyes as he flopped onto the ground despondently, watching both his opponents and his allies file out of the arena through the giant double doors that screamed on its hinges. All of the energy had drained out of his body, and he couldn’t make himself stand up and leave.

Another defeat…

And to a timeout again, for the fourth time in a row today! With everyone watching, with Colette watching…

How embarrassing.

“Lloyd!” Colette cried out in concern, vaulting over the seats before her effortlessly and leaping into the air, her pink wings bursting out of her back to bring her fluttering to the ground safely. Zelos flinched from another yell directly in his ears, shooting to his feet and staring down at Colette. Was she insane?!

“Are you alright?” she asked, leaning over Lloyd, trying to decide if she should start poking him in order to figure out what ailed him.

“I’m fine,” Lloyd grumbled, covering his eyes with his arm to block out the sun. “Just taking a break.”

“I’m sorry about your loss, but… You put in a lot of effort, so I think you did great! There’s no need to win all the time!” Colette encouraged. “I’m already proud of you.”

Lloyd peeked from under his arm, catching sight of the wide, sunny smile on Colette’s face. Energy immediately returned to him, enough for him to sit up and sigh, even as he avoided looking into her eyes.

“Thanks,” he muttered. “That means a lot.”

“Come on, let’s get going. We can figure out this arena issue together later!”

Colette offered her hand, which he gladly took. As the two of them walked out, Zelos scrambling his way down the stands to join them, Lloyd looked back, frowning.

How was he supposed to tell Colette the reason he was struggling with accuracy…

Was her?

~~~

“What’s on your mind, angel?” Zelos asked, kicking back on his chair and sipping from his cup of sparkling water. A red-and-white striped beach umbrella stood high over the table that he and Colette were sitting at, providing shade. A strange mismatch of decor, considering the intricate designs inlaid in the back of the chairs and the curved, vine-like table legs better suited a veranda in a colourful garden. But the whole thing was already set up right by the battlefield, so they might as well enjoy it.

The others - Lloyd, Genis, Mithos and Kohaku, had already left. Maybe to grab lunch, because if his stomach was rumbling, surely everyone else's were.

“Hm? Nothing’s on my mind!” Colette replied, crossing her arms. For some strange reason, she was dressed in a swimsuit, despite their battles taking place in the middle of the streets of a drab town.

Which raised a question. Where were all the townspeople? They always vanished into thin air the moment the monsters appeared.

Zelos had long since given up on understanding anything that went on.

“I don’t believe that,” he replied drily. “You hit me with your poison hammers just now, remember?” He gestured at the cobblestones next to their feet, where incriminating evidence remained - the traces of green, bubbling, noxious liquid upon the stones and within the cracks, accompanied with the dents from the hammer’s impact.

How Colette had done it, Zelos didn’t know. He hadn’t even been taking part in the battle! He and Kohaku had been standing to the side, ignoring the rays of light falling from the sky and the battle cries coming from the other four, together with the pitiful squeaks of downed monsters. He’d been keeping to himself, because the last time he’d tried to talk to Kohaku, he’d gotten a kick in the chest and spent the next hour winded, unable to do anything but wheeze while bent over.

All of a sudden, a shadow had fallen over him, and he’d looked up to get a hammer to the face while Kohaku collapsed in laughter.

“Oh, I really am sorry about that. I tripped... Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Kohaku just hit me with an anti-magic.” Zelos shrugged. The poison was gone, taking the headache with it, but the bump on the head was not. But he wasn’t here to guilt Colette.

Just to get a stone rolling.

“No, seriously, you had to be distracted to hit me instead of the monsters!” Zelos leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “And I didn’t see you trip. At all.” That was a bluff, considering he’d been zoning out while staring at his feet, but he was fairly certain Colette wouldn’t catch him. “So?”

“Alright, you caught me…” As expected, Colette crumbled under the pressure, frowning as she pushed her index fingers together. “I was thinking about Lloyd. He’s been missing a lot in the arena, and I was wondering if I could help him somehow. He always looks so frustrated afterwards…”

The fact that Colette was thinking about Lloyd wasn’t surprising. However, the fact that she had noticed that Lloyd kept missing his attacks, but somehow managed to completely miss that Lloyd was flubbing his attacks because he kept staring at her, was astounding! How was she both highly perceptive and utterly blind, all at the same time?

Was this selective vision? Seriously, it didn’t make sense how Lloyd’s attention was flying over Colette’s head, not when Lloyd was looking right at her and she was meeting his gaze!

Gah. He really needed to do something. This was quickly starting to supersede ridiculous and verge into the territory of infuriating.

“Don’t worry, Colette,” Zelos said, resisting the urge to rub his forehead and nurse the headache that was making a sudden return. Instead, he painted the largest smile possible onto his face. “I have an idea.”

Still, he couldn’t help but mess with the two of them. It was far too fun to see them cling to his every word.

“Really? What?” Colette perked up, leaning closer as well, eyes sparkling eagerly. “Tell me, tell me!”

She should know better by now. How many times had Genis warned both Lloyd and Colette to stop listening to him and his “inane schemes”, as Genis put it? But they still returned, every single time.

Zelos smirked. They were playing right into his hands. He couldn’t wait to see how this ended.

“He’s probably missing his swings so much because of his eyesight, you know? So how about…”

~~~

Lloyd sighed and stretched, hoping to loosen the muscles in his back. He was seated in the cramped, dark room that lay behind one of the arena’s many minuscule doors that always went unnoticed. He could see Estelle blathering on and on to a silently nodding Misella; a mischievously grinning Anise, the minimised version of Tokunaga dangling from her arm, sneaking up behind an oblivious Asbel; Velvet alone in a corner, tapping her hand against her arm in boredom.

They were all waiting for the door that led to sunlight to open up, which would signal the start of the arena battle. Who their opponents would be, and of what level of skill, would not be known until they came face-to-face with each other.

Lloyd truly wanted to avoid another defeat, but honestly, there wasn’t much hope. Not if his gaze wouldn’t stop being drawn to Colette, who insisted on coming to watch each and every match of his. She would cheer him on with her hands cupped around her mouth and shouts of his name falling from her lips as she pumped her arm in the air. With the sunlight falling on her, she appeared angelic even without the presence of her wings, sticking out among the many heads in the multi-tiered colosseum.

If he wasn’t paying attention to his opponents, his swords obviously wouldn’t be getting close to them.

What to do, though…

“Lloyd!”

At the call of his name by a familiar voice, his head shot up, darting around to find the source. He couldn’t believe his ears.

There it was. Colette, skipping over to him with her hands held behind her back. How had she gotten in here? Only combatants were allowed in… But Colette had her mysterious ways.

“What are you doing here?” Lloyd asked, ignoring the gazes of his fellow teammates falling on him. His focus zeroed in on Colette as he stood, as if they were the only two in this tiny room.

“To deliver something!” Colette replied gleefully, bringing up her hands with a flourish, presenting a small, transparent case.

Lloyd blinked, accepting the case. “What’s this?” he asked, squinting to make out the object in the case as he flipped it open. The vague shape looked familiar…

“Glasses!” Colette whirled in an excited circle, her robes flaring slightly around her. “I thought they might help!”

Lloyd choked, hiding it by coughing into the back of his hand. Within the case was indeed a pair of spectacles, ones with simple black frames and square lenses. Stylish, but completely unexpected.

What Lloyd couldn’t block out was the faint snickers coming from his teammates, popping the bubble his mind had crafted around the two of them. Even the usually stoic Misella was hiding her mouth with her hand, while Velvet had turned her back so she was facing the wall, her shoulders shaking.

“I -” Lloyd gasped, letting out a final cough. Oh no, Colette had noticed he was missing his attacks. Well, at least she didn’t seem to have figured out why. That was the only relief he could draw from the embarrassing situation he currently found himself in.

“Do you not... Like them?” Colette paused mid-whirl, her shoulders drooping. The bright smile on her face dropped, and it was like darkness fell on the entire room in an instant as the light she always emanated dimmed, her voice getting softer and less confident with each word. “I thought they might… Help… I’m sorry if-”

“No, no, no! I do!” Lloyd rushed to tell her, snapping the case closed as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I was just surprised, that’s all!”

And his words were true. Now that the embarrassment was starting to wear off, it was being replaced with warm happiness that left him feeling tingly. Any gift from Colette was to be cherished, for she had nothing but the best of intentions behind her every action. Her kindness could turn the worst of days into the best, could flip sadness on its head and replace it with joy that flooded his heart.

He snapped open the case once again, snagging the glasses. Closing his eyes, he placed them on the bridge of his nose slightly crooked. What sight would meet him when he opened his eyes? He had no clue. Would everything be larger than it should be, or slightly distorted?

When he finally opened his eyes and stared through the spotless lenses, everything appeared… normal. There was no strain on his eyes. None at all.

Strange.

“You look good! I really hope they help.” Colette clapped her hands together in delight, extending a hand to straighten the glasses and push them further up his nose.

Her fingertips, light as a butterfly, brushed his cheek as she got closer, her periwinkle blue eyes brilliant even in the dust and dank, perhaps more so because of it. His heart, his breath, even time, seemed to freeze as he wondered if she would fully close the distance between them, until he could feel her breath on his cheek.

The moment ended just as quickly as it began as she pulled away, leaving behind an imprint of warmth.

“Um, Colette, thank you. I’m sure they will,” he muttered, barely able to get the words out, heart fluttering away in his chest. “But where did you get these glasses from?”

“Zelos helped me procure them. So I’ll pass on your thanks to him,” Colette replied, tone nonchalant as if nothing had happened at all. She glanced at the clock on the wall, beginning to back away. “The match is going to start soon, so I’m going to take my seat in the stands. Good luck, Lloyd!”

She waved goodbye to him as she proceeded to the exit, and he flashed her a thumbs-up that made her giggle. “Bye, Colette!” he called out after her retreating back.

Lloyd sighed for the second time today, this time not out of a creeping dread of the likely, incoming loss, but from the effects of Colette’s overwhelming cheer. He held a hand to his cheek, a dreamy smile on his face.

Only to look up and remember that there were other people in the room, their stares burning holes in him, everyone sporting amused smiles on their faces.

“Stop,” he blurted out, mortified as he sat down, his legs shaking. His entire face was aflame; not even his ears had been spared. He bowed his head, picking up his swords and beginning to clean them with the cloth he’d brought along, hoping that everyone might go back to their business.

And they did, deciding to spare him from further torment as they all awaited the blare of the horn that signalled the coming match.

Leaving him to get lost in his memories of what had occurred minutes before, wondering if it had meant anything or if he’d imagined all of it.

~~~

In the multitude of matches that Lloyd would go on to fight in the future, his problems with accuracy didn’t improve. He missed just as much as he did before, though his team's overall win rate was on the rise! The one thing he never did was take off the glasses that he had received, wearing them for every single arena match, no matter the weather or the opponent.

He seemed a lot happier after matches. No one really brought up Lloyd's low accuracy again, not even himself. He would always blush when Colette complimented him on how much they fit him, until the both of them were giggling together, their peals of laughter floating up and filling the colosseum.

Zelos, always watching from the stands, considered this a wonderful success. He’d even seen Colette press a chaste kiss to Lloyd’s cheek, causing both of them to flush red as Lloyd’s glasses were knocked askew. Ah, the wonderful sweetness of young love.

Until Genis came to watch one of the matches, put two and two together, and dragged Zelos off by the ear to meet his fate, Mithos trailing behind the two of them.

Eyewitness reports say that lightning split the sky that day.

[k-llama-llama]

Manicure

Twice AU: 10th member

Jaewoo x Twice

Jae puts up with a lot from his girls

A/N: check out my patreon (patreon.com/kllamallama for exclusive posts!)

Requests are CLOSED…but your feedback is still super important to me.

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“Are you live right now?” Jaewoo heard Mina ask.

“Yeah.” Chaeyoung confirmed. “Once, say hi to Mina!”

Jaewoo looked up from underneath his hood, finding Chaeyoung and Mina talking into a selfie stick. A part of him wanted to groan. They’d just finished at the music show and were driving home, and he just wanted to nap.

“Jaewoo is a bit grumpy because he didn’t get to eat lunch.” Chaeyoung told the fans.

“Yah.” He sat up, leaving his hood up as he peered into the camera. “I’m not grumpy, Once. I promise.”

He read comments for a second. “I’m glad you all enjoyed the show today. We’ll keep working hard to bring you good performances.”

“And first step is a nap.” Mina said with a laugh.

“It is.” Jaewoo nodded, leaning his head on Mina’s shoulder as he spoke. “Once, I’m so sleepy. I took off all my makeup and put on my pyjamas as soon as we were done today.”

“They want to know why you’re so tired.” Mina said. “You need to be getting sleep.”

“I couldn’t go to sleep last night until late.” He admitted. “Chae....do you want to tell them why?”

Chaeyoung smirked, smiling into the camera. “Once complimented my nails today, but it took me a really long time to come up with all of the designs. I had to practice first.”

“On me. For hours.” Jaewoo rolled his eyes. “And she wouldn’t let me go to sleep because she wanted my opinions.”

“But his nails look so good. Show them, Jae!” Chaeyoung looked at him expectantly.

He removed his hand from his hoodie pocket, holding it up to the camera. “What do you guys think?”

“My favourite is this one.” Chaeyoung pointed to his pinky finger, decorated with mermaid scales. “I almost did it on myself too...but I didn’t want us to match.”

“I like the one with the hearts.” Mina said quietly, examining his middle finger. “It’s very pretty.”

“Which one do you like the best, Jae?” 

He examined his hand, looking over the mismatched nail art. He hadn’t really stopped to consider it at all, because he’d been so exhausted when Chae had painted it on. He hadn’t let the stylist remove it before their performance, just in case Chae still needed to take pictures of it, but he still hadn’t really looked at them.

“I like this one.” He decided, showing his ring finger to the camera. It was painted purple with pink vines and leaves on it. “It matches our concept right now.”

“Oh, like a More and More concept?” Mina exclaimed. “I like that one too.”

“Chae did a great job.” He agreed. “Right, Once? If you all like it, I’ll make her do my nails for tomorrow’s stage too.”

“I have little butterfly stickers!” Chaeyoung exclaimed. “I think they would really suit Jae.”

Jaewoo settled back into his seat as the subject changed, only chiming in occasionally for the rest of the live. When Chae finally turned the camera off, he finally let out the yawn he’d been holding in.

“Are you sleepy?” Mina patted his cheek, letting him rest his head on her shoulder.

“Hmmm.” He confirmed, trying to get comfy. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night because of someone.”

He would have glared at Chae if he had the energy.

“Sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry, turning around in her seat. “But your nails look so pretty.”

He just shrugged, pressing his face in Mina’s neck in an attempt to block out the light.

“You could have taken it off.” Mina said lightly. “Before the show.”

He snorted. “I don’t care that you painted my nails. I just wish I could’ve been asleep while you were doing it.”

“You can get some sleep tonight.” Mina promised. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“We said I would paint his nails for tomorrow.” Chaeyoung protested. “Fans will love it.”

“Yup, our fans love it when you treat me like a doll.” Jaewoo smiled. 

“Fine, let them down.” Chaeyoung crossed her arms. “I guess sleep is more important than your promises.”

“I never said I wouldn’t let you do it.” Jaewoo pulled his hoodie over his face. “But I’m eating first, and changing. And putting on a face mask because my skin is gross.”

“You look pretty.” Mina promised.

“Thanks, Mi.” He closed his eyes. “Wake me up when we get home.”

“But we need to decide what to-”

“Let him seep, Chaeng.” Mina scolded. “He’s tired.”

Jae opened his eyes an winked at Chae, before quickly closing them again.

“He’s not tired, he’s just tired of me.” Chae complained.

“You guys are too loud, I’m trying to sleep.” He pouted.

[frogs-spawn]

it’s true lads, i have actually written something

(this was a prologue of a long canon fic that i’m writing/on hiatus on (oops) but i was thinking of changing the pov of it, so this doesn’t fit in it anymore) i may end up finishing the canon one, but it is long, so it probably won’t see the light of day, but we’ll see

anyway, here’s the ao3 link if you would like to read it on there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31116254

a tragic twist of fate:

summary: the lupin family are enjoying a quiet evening, when an unwelcome visitor shows up, changing all of their lives forever.

word count: 1.6k

The sun was setting, casting a burning haze across the sea, and subsequently over the unsuspecting cul-de-sac in the Gower. The pebble-dashed bungalows that hugged the road were quaint and uniform, with a meagre patch of grass out the front that barely constituted as a garden. All things considered; it was a very normal street. There were the Jones', with their tiny Yorkshire terrier, which was small in size but easily compensated with its tremendous bark. The Thomas', who were always out the front regardless of the weather, observing the street's comings and goings. The Liu's, whose windows were constantly filled with an assortment of different lights, illuminating the street, making it feel like Christmas every day. Opposite them, were the Lupin's. There was Lyall, who has a mysterious job that no one is quite able to figure out exactly what it entails; his wife, Hope, who made sure that the whole street was well and truly fed; finally, their 5-year-old son, Remus, who's usually found playing out on the empty street.

Remus, as expected, was having a game of tag with Julia from across the road when his mother called out from the front door. She had thick blonde hair, slightly greying at the crown of her head, which was tied up into a loose bun, the fly-always whipping the side of her face, which was covered slightly with gravy.

"Remus, it's time to come in now. Your father has just gotten home, and dinner's almost ready."

"But Mammy! I'm not even tired," Remus pleaded, shouting back, a little breathless. "Can we have a few more minutes? Please?"

"It's okay, Mrs Lupin." Julia panted, brushing her dark fringe from out of her eyes, it was a miracle she could even see. She was a few years older than Remus but was still somehow shorter than the boy (who was only slightly tall for his age). "I think my parents want me back soon anyway." She turned to Remus and smiled, "We're going to go out and play again tomorrow, aren’t we Re?”

"Yeah, okay then. I'll see you tomorrow! Bye!" Remus chirped back, with some newfound energy. He then proceeded to hurtle up the driveway and stumble through the front door.

“Not even going to give your old mammy a cwtch?” Hope laughed, following her son through the door, shoving her hands into her pockets.

He clambered onto his chair at the kitchen table and watched eagerly as his mother took a roast lamb out of the oven and began to dish it out on to mismatched plates. There were roast potatoes, which were crispy on the outside, but still fluffy and buttery on the inside, peas, carrots, and parsnips - that were roasted to perfection, and it was all smothered with thick gravy that was laden with salt and had the potential to clog up your arteries – but if it’s bad for you then that meant it would probably delicious. Remus’ mouth was practically watering.

"Now, as you've been running around all afternoon, I'll give you the extra roastie, how about that?" Hope smiled down at Remus, scooping a roast potato onto the plate.

Lyall stooped into the kitchen at that moment, placing his tattered briefcase down onto the splintered wooden counter and bent over to kiss his wife on the head. He was tall and lanky with brown curly hair that was just starting to thin. He wore deep navy robes over the top of a well-fitted suit, looking as if he had just walked out of a very important meeting. He could have been a very intimidating man if it weren't for the way his eyes lit up and his mouth formed a crooked grin when he looked adoringly across his small family, with an immense sense of pride.

"This looks wonderful, darling. What did I ever do to deserve you?" he laughed as went over to his son and ruffled his hair. "According to Mrs Thomas, you've been charging up and down the road all day! No wonder you look knackered." He fell into the chair next to him, as Hope brought the dinner over.

The family ate with easy conversation. Hope explained how she had heard from Mrs Thomas that Mrs Jones was apparently putting empty wine bottles into her recycling bin and Lyall explained his new case at work, but it seemed boring, so Remus didn't pay it much attention. He wolfed his food down so quickly, barely stopping for a breath, his poor mother thought he might end up with indigestion.

"Stay in your own lane, Lyall, that's what they said," Lyall explained in between mouthfuls, gesturing at no one in particular with his fork. "They won't believe me though, and that Greyback has been released again, the man makes my skin crawl." He used air quotes when describing him and huffed, as he took another bite out of his roast. "It's madness, I told them that. Did they listen? No. Cases of lycanthropy are going up and it's because of creatures like them. String 'em all up for all I care. Bloody werewolves.”

"Not at the table Lyall," Hope piped in, sensing that her husband was about to go on another one of his world-renowned rants. "I understand it's a pain, especially if no one listens to you at work, but let's keep dinner time a happy affair, don't you think?"

"Yeah, no, sorry love" he gave her a sweet smile, which she returned. "Anyway. Did you have you had fun today, Re?"

The boy looked up and nodded quickly. "Yeah, me and Julia played lots of games. We had a race to see who was faster. And I won!" he exclaimed, talking at the speed of a hundred miles per hour, he spread his arms for dramatic effect and sat up higher in his chair. "She said I was cheating, but I wasn't, I promise!"

"No, of course, you weren't." Lyall laughed and looked down at his son like he was the most precious thing in the world.

After dinner, the family were positioned around the small-rickety fire pit that was positioned in the corner of the patio, made up of broken slabs of concrete with weeds emerging like great vines through the gaps. The fire crackled and spat, specks of charred wood and the burning flame releasing swirling smoke into the atmosphere. They sat on wobbly wooden chairs, that they had gotten from the charity shop, which were starting to rot and covered in splinters. However, Hope had made some colourful and slightly garish cushions, so it was incredibly comfortable, despite the small risk of the chairs collapsing from underneath them. Hope was sat with a pair of knitting needles in hand, focusing on the burgundy jumper that Remus would undoubtedly get for Christmas in a couple of months time. Remus sat opposite and was looking eagerly at his father, who was making the little old wooden figurines of soldiers that Hope collected do an Irish jig across the uneven stone.

Then, there was a rustling in the undergrowth at the far end of the garden. The birds that had nested and settled in for the evening took flight, flying off into the rising moon, bright and beautiful.

"What on earth could that be?" Hope wondered out loud, staring out into the distance, squinting her eyes.

'I'll go check it out.” Lyall chuckled as he pushed himself out of the chair. "Probably just a fox, I shall go shoo it away."

He wandered to the end of the garden, managing to avoid the snail hotel Remus had built a year ago. He lit up his wand so that he could see at least three steps ahead of himself.

It was a surprise that it remained standing, despite the howling gales and torrential rain it had to endure, it stayed. For as long as he could remember, Remus looked after the snails in the hotel, gave them any leftover lettuce. They were his favourite magical creatures. It fascinated him, the way they could stick to the walls and go upside down, the only way that was possible, Remus decided, was magic. Lyall didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

"Ah, Lyall Lupin. Just the man I wanted to see." An unfamiliar voice snarled. The voice was deep and ragged as if it had been strained from screaming too loud "Fancy seeing you here."

“Fenrir.” Lyall cut back, voice curt but contained a small tremble. "Leave me and my family alone and take your unpleasant business somewhere else." He straightened his jacket and stood rigidly, making himself taller. But the figure, Fenrir, stood a head above him, despite his hunched posture.

"I don't think that would be necessary." He countered, his voice becoming more and more menacing. "How is your family? I'd love to meet them." He shoved Lyall out of the way, causing him to lose balance and he stumbled into the hedge.

“Hope! Remus! Get into the house and lock the door!” Lyall shouted, desperately, unable to keep up with Greyback, who was striding across the garden.

Hope quickly grabbed her things and ran, pushing open the back door with a creak.

“Remus, come on lamb, into the house.” Hope coaxed from the door, trying to sound as calm as possible.

But Remus stayed rooted to the spot, unmoving, fixed and waiting, staring into the monster before him.

Fenrir Greyback was a giant of a man, towering easily over 6 feet tall. He was unkempt and greasy, covered in black matted hair. His deceitful yellowing eyes emitting nothing venom. Remus scrambled off of the chair and edged slowly towards his mother. It was too late.

Their eyes locked. A deal had been struck.

Under the silver moon, Greyback's manic grin turned pointed and wider. Bones cracked, twisted, and popped. Hair became thicker, wired, and coarse. Tortured hands and feet transformed into gnarly claws. His previously crooked nose became a leathery, wet, snout.

Barring his teeth, Fenrir Greyback took a couple of paces forward, crushing the hotel under a monstrous paw, towards a terrified Remus Lupin.

And pounced.

[unlockthelore]

To Mourn and Love

With his freedom close at hand, the youko does the one thing he never thought he would — hesitate.

Chapter 6 of A Mother’s Love on Ao3. For more updates, follow the a mother’s love tag on this blog.

If there was nothing Kurama wanted more, it was for this act to end.

His time as Minamino Shuuichi had been both irritatingly blasé and filled with nostalgia. Namely centered around that woman, Minamino Shiori. She was always looking over him and after him, paying close attention to everything in their home — asking him to make friends, to enjoy himself, to be a child for as long as he could.

She didn’t understand that he hadn’t been a child for centuries and her attempts were incomprehensible. No matter how cold he was, or how much trouble he made, she never raised a hand or her voice. Much different than some parents he’d seen in the Ningenkai and the Makai.

Of course, there were many in the Ningenkai who didn’t like his behavior. They tried to police Shiori, give her guidance on how to steer him in the right direction. Make him do what she says, so they put. Kurama highly doubted that he would bend his will to anyone, let alone a human, but the idea of pain for his transgressions irritated him.

If pretending to be the perfect little boy was one way to maintain this lifestyle, then so be it. He could suffer his pride until the end of this act. Chang his behavior in a way that makes him seem wiser but softer. Obeying his mother’s whims, staying close to her side, putting on a smile for her sake. And for the most part, it works. Shiori listens less and less to the naysayers and disapproval turns into compliments.

Another thing that he despises about the Ningenkai and humans in general. Compliance is met with applause while defiance is abhorred. All in all, Kurama couldn’t wait to be rid of this place and of her as soon as possible.

His only comfort coming in the form of the garden growing in their backyard, a hobby that he started at Shiori’s “insistence” after seeing his interest in nature. She brought him many blooms but most of them were pulled from the ground by his youki.

To say that he preferred the company of his flowers over humans would’ve been an understatement. At least their intentions were laid plain when he was tired of the poor games that humans played.

Returning home one day, Kurama went to the kitchen to grab a few items he’d need for gardening. A bright smile forcing its way onto his face when he saw Shiori at the sink, washing what smelled like vegetables.

“You’re back already, Shuuichi?” Shiori asked, glancing over her shoulder at him. Her dark hair tied back in a low ponytail, brown eyes watching him while he moved from one side of the kitchen to the next, a twinkle of amusement as he grabbed the rickety stool they used to reach the higher shelves.

As much as he wanted to ignore her, it would’ve only spurred her on to ask him more questions and the forced smile remained in place until his back was to her. “I didn’t want to stay after today so I could get some gardening done,” Kurama said, not quite a lie but not entirely the truth. He didn’t have any interest in playing human any longer than necessary and he’d have to prepare his arsenal for when he made his departure back to the Makai.

Shiori hummed softly, a lilting tune suggesting that she had more questions but would keep them to herself for now. Kurama huffed as he tilted forward on the stool and the legs wobbled unsurely beneath him. The weight of her gaze drifting from his back allowing him to focus on the task at hand. Several vases were pushed further into the cupboard and with his short stature, it was difficult to reach them. And he loathed to ask for help.

If she wasn’t in the room, he could’ve used his plants to grab it or jumped onto the counter itself and grabbed it before making his descent. But because of her presence he had to keep up this facade. His fingers brushed against the cool glass of one of the vases and he leant further, closing his fingers around the rim of it and pulling backward. His heel pressing down against the surface of the stool made the legs tilt again, but this time something went wrong.

He didn’t realize he was falling. Not until the world turned sideways and a loud shout of his human name echoed off the walls. Glass shattering and his eyes squeezed shut, a curse caught between his lips that would’ve surely earned him a scolding, if the broken vase hadn’t. The stool rolled uselessly to the side and Kurama would have glared at it if not for the smell of iron tinging the air.

He could hear the water running, see the glass and ceramic pieces shattered near him, but he couldn’t feel pain. Any pain at that. Even his human form wasn’t capable of healing that fast and he didn’t have time to avoid with Shiori being in the room.

Kurama’s eyes widened and he tipped his head back. Dark hair brushing against his forehead and slipping over his cheeks, pained brown eyes crinkling at the corners, lips drawn into a tight smile — Shiori.

A tremor rushed through Kurama as the building pinpricks that couldn’t be anything less than fear pulsed through him. He twitched and hesitantly glanced down, his upper body supported by warm hands pressed to his lower back, her torso supporting his head. Red dripped onto the floor tiles, staining them with deep crimson, the smell of iron fresh and thick in the air.

Her arms.

Pieces of glass were embedded in her skin, some larger than others, and he couldn’t tell how many were there but it was enough that her arms were shaking, and bleeding profusely.

“Shuuichi,” Shiori’s eerily calm tone snapped Kurama’s attention back to her tight smile and glazed eyes. “Are you alright?”

No. No. What was she doing?

Why would she do that?

Even if she didn’t know, his human form would have healed easily despite the inconvenience of having to take the time to let it set properly. She could have fussed over him like she always did. Not throw herself into harms way. A bubble of rage was tempered by confusion. His lips trembling and his eyes wide, unable to find his voice.

Shiori carefully shifted forward and the hands supporting his back were moved to his head, gently petting his hair. The trickle of blood along her tanned skin reminding him of the vines he’d use and the energy that coursed through him. Energy that she lacked. The wounds may have been deep, she would scar, and he was sure that she would resent him.

But why did she do it?

“That must have been scary, huh?” Shiori cupped his cheek, her fingers gliding across his skin, thumb rubbing slow circles beside his eye. “It’s alright now, it was an accident.”

Kurama laid there for a second longer until he could find his voice, scrambling to sit up and face her, her hands carefully brought into his own so he could see her arms. His eyes widened, breath hitching, as the criss-crossed marks outlined in a deep red wept.

“You’re hurt..”

Shiori turned her hands over in his grip, returning the squeeze. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt that much…” Her voice trailed off and a sigh of relief chilled him to his core. Why was she happy? Why did she seem like she was happy now?

“Why?” Kurama blurted out before he could stop himself, clinging to her hands, desperate to know how she could be smiling — how she wasn’t furious with him.

Shiori blinked at him slowly, as if his behavior was odd. As if she wasn’t the one bleeding because of his literal misstep.

“I’m your mother,” she says, squeezing his hands. “The last thing I want is to see you hurt.”

Why was she trying to comfort him when she was the one who was hurt?

Her fingers ran through his short red hair, gently brushing underneath his jaw to tilt his head up. The tightness in her smile, the pain hidden in her eyes, she was bleeding and yet trying to be strong for him. Kurama’s lips trembled and he pressed them together to keep from shouting and yelling.

“It was an accident, right?” Shiori pressed a trembling kiss to his forehead and something inside of him broke. “Run along and play, I’ll clean up here.”

She was lying. A human couldn’t endure that much pain, and so much blood loss would’ve made her light-headed at most. If he left her now, she was likely to stay on the floor for awhile longer. She could have died if —

“I want to help,” he blurted out.

Shiori’s eyes widened and he hated the surprise on her face. Was it so odd that he cared for her this much? That he wanted to see her well?

Yes it is, a traitorous voice echoed in the back of his mind. He was going to leave her. So why pretend as if he cared now?

“It’s been clear skies all day,” Shiori said, her smile falling into place. “Why don’t you go out and do some gardening?”

Kurama shook his head vehemently, feeling every bit the small child that she believed him to be. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Why would she do such a thing? The wounds were deep and they would surely scar even with some of his best remedies, and the vase and the glasses, she had them since before his human father passed — wasn’t she upset? Wasn’t she angry at him?

He held her hands in his smaller ones, trying to will himself not to tremble. “I want to help,” he repeated, the voice in his ears quieter and smaller. The voice of Minamino Shuuichi, not Youko Kurama.

Shiori squeezed his hands, her smile slipping into a frown as she glanced aside. Likely trying to find some other way of dissuading him. He squeezed her hands and she sighed, looking at him with a fondness that shook him to his core.

“Okay,” she said with a soft sigh, squeezing his hands, a little smile mismatched with the twitch in her brow. “But you have to promise me not to pick up anything sharp with your bare hands. I think we have some gloves beneath the sink..”

Kurama nodded though he wanted to ask what she would do. She was less likely to heal quickly than he was. But Shiori wouldn’t budge on this, her eyes trained on him as he carefully let go of her hands, careful to stand up and hurry to the sink. The gloves tucked between a few more things that he’d sen her place below the sink. The darkness of the cupboard reminding him of that hole, his mother looking down at him with the moon haloing her, a soft saddened look in her eyes as she covered him from view.

The cold dread swept over him, irrational thoughts bursting to the forefront of his mind. A cruel realization when he saw the tree that bloomed with his mother’s youki. Symbolic that she was gone and let nature reclaim what belonged to it. That he was now alone.

And Shiori.

Would Shiori also —

He clutched the gloves tightly in his hand, the rubber squelching in his white-knuckled grip. No. She couldn’t. Peering over his shoulder, the dread pooled in his stomach like a rock sinking to the bottom of a lake. She had been quiet for too long. Was she alright?

He glanced down at her feet tucked beneath her and his eyes widened. Rivulets of crimson stained her socks, blooming along the white like flowers, a grotesque ensemble that Kurama didn’t want to see. Pulling on the gloves, he set to the task of helping her pick up the pieces. Shiori’s smile and the sweat on her brow, her careful movements as she directed him, distracting him from thinking of a way to help properly. Distracting him from wanting to understand why he wanted to help at all.

Once the larger pieces had been disposed of, Kurama eased the gloves from his hands, clenching his fists to hide the trembling.

“Shuuichi, could you get the first aid kit from the bathroom?”

Kurama hesitated, looking from the gloves in his hand to her. He wanted to be able to do more for her. He could have helped her pull the shards from her arms and her feet if she knew the truth. He could have healed her wounds easily. He could have made her smile less pained.

But she didn’t know anything, and that was his plan. For her to stay in the dark long after it was time for him to leave. But now, he hesitated even leaving her side to grab the first aid kit. Shiori’s smile patient if not a bit worn as she looked at him, her arms cradled close to her chest but the grimace of pain hidden with a wavering smile.

Stop smiling.

He tried to will her to stop smiling at him like this. His heart hammering in his chest as he walked out into the hall, using his speed to blur up the stairs once he was out of her sight and dart into the bathroom. The gloves dropped as he grabbed the kit, rushing downstairs as fast as his feet could carry him. Hoping that she was still there. That she wouldn’t disappear.

A beautiful tree with full boughs bursting with life. A young kit curled up at its base, whining for his mother’s return.

Not again. He couldn’t do it again.

Stepping into the kitchen, his lungs shuddered with a labored breath as he saw her sitting there. Her eyes shuttered and the front of her apron stained with crimson as she held her arms, applying pressure to stem the bleeding. Slowly, she raised her head and the blank expression she wore eased into another sweet smile.

“Thank you,” she said, holding out a trembling hand to him. “You’re a big help, Shuuichi..”

Kurama’s lips trembled. Why did he care?

He stepped closer to her, handing her the first aid kit, pulling his hand away as if burned when their fingers brushed. If she noticed, she said nothing, setting the kit down and beginning to work with opening it. Kurama sank down to his knees at her side, resting his hand on her arm.

Being attached to her wasn’t part of his plan.

Caring when she was hurt wasn’t something that he should have minded.

You’re a big help, Shuuichi.

He wasn’t a big help. He wasn’t doing anything and it grated at his nerves. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve to look like that.

Shiori sighed, setting to the task in front of her as she picked out the shards. Kurama’s hand pressing to her arm, his youki coursing through him to his fingertips, a light violet hue to his fingers that was faint against her skin but traversed through her. Her own dwindling energy building and tinged with his own, steadily growing.

She continued picking at the shards, unaware of what he was doing, but the pain in her eyes lessened as he focused on giving her small traces of his energy. Kurama watched her movements to make sure that she wouldn’t hurt herself. Frustrated that he couldn’t do more.

“Dinner will be late,” she said, a bitter tinge to her voice, the metallic clatter of the shards hitting the small tin she kept them in interrupting her. “Let’s say that we were having take out, what would you like?”

Kurama glanced up at her, barely hearing her as his thoughts consumed him. His hand brushing against her arm as he leant forward, resting his forehead on her upper arm. “I want your favorite,” he muttered.

“Are you sure? You can have anything you want,” Shiori pressed, a tremor in her energy as she started to clean her wounds. The smell of the disinfectant mingling with the iron scent of blood making his stomach turn. He was no stranger to death, nor blood, but hers was nauseating.

Kurama clutched tightly to her shirt, careful not to tear the fabric in his tight grip. “I want to get something to make you happy..”

Shiori shifted slightly and he could hear the gentle tear of bandages as she worked them around her arm. “I know it must be a little scary…” Her hand settled on the back of his head, pressing him closer to her side. Kurama’s eyes widened and trembling as she ran her fingers through his hair. “But I’m not angry.”

Shiori hugged him closer and Kurama was certain that she could hear the pounding of his heart. The wheels turning in his mind as he tried to understand. How couldn’t she be angry? How couldn’t she be at odds with him? Indignation warned with relief and he pressed closer to her, pulling at her shirt as she pressed a kiss to his head.

“The plates can be replaced, but I can’t replace you. There’s only one of you..” Shiori’s other hand rested at his shoulder and she hugged him tightly. The bandages brushing against his cheek as she wrapped her arms around him, cradling him close to her. “I don’t want to replace you, Shuuichi, so I’m glad that you’re safe.”

His eyes burned and he pressed his face against her side, gripping her shirt tighter. How? How could she be like this?

“Why don’t we have your favorite tonight and we can have mine tomorrow, okay?” Shiori rested her cheek against his head, her fingers running through his hair. “You already make me happy, and knowing you’re safe is the best news anyone could give me..”

Kurama’s stomach turned. What if she awoke to him being gone? What face would she make? Would he care? His only response was a subtle nod, his thoughts consuming him again. He had a bag packed upstairs, ready for when he wanted to leave. He was prepared to leave when she was sound asleep. There was a limited window of opportunity. If he was too late then his energy wouldn’t be able to pass through the barrier and he would be trapped here.

Trapped with her.

But would that be such a bad thing?

Shiori kissed the top of his head and pulled away, smiling down at him. “Alright, I’ll order us something a—“ She paused, her smile slowly falling. “… Shuuichi?”

Kurama trembled. Would it be such a bad thing to be trapped here with her? She never raised a hand to him, she cared for him, she bled for him.

Just like her.

Just like his mother before.

“Shuuichi, what’s wrong?” Shiori asked, cradling his head in her hands. He startled at her touch, realizing that she was talking to him and stared up at her.

“… I’m worried about you, mother.”

Shiori blinked at him then smiled, and he wondered if it was genuine or simply a reflex to reassure him. “I’m fine, Shuuichi..” She rubbed her thumb back and forth beneath his eye, her voice soft and hypnotic. “I am. It’s okay if you worry, but they’ll heal.”

Eyeing the bandages on her arm, he knew they would scar. Hesitation warred within his chest and he nodded. “C—Can we sleep on the couch together tonight?”

He hadn’t asked to sleep in the same bed as her no matter how old he pretended to be. But if he was going to leave her, if this would be their last moment together, the least he could do was give her affection from the son that she loved. That’s all.

That’s all.

“I…” Shiori seemed caught off guard, looking him over. “… Sure. And you can watch as much TV as you like, and tomorrow if I’m feeling up to it, we can make a cake together.” She leant closer to him, kissing his forehead with the gentleness that sent warm tingles throughout his body. “Okay?”

Kurama nodded, offering her a small smile in return. He wasn’t sure how much of it was an act and what of it was genuine. The lines seeming to blur together. For now, he would ease her pain and once she slept, he would leave.

Night fell over Sarayashiki and the hours ticked closer to his time of departure, Kurama’s energy stirring beneath the skin in anticipation or was it fear? He wasn’t sure and it was driving him mad.

Shiori brought down her blankets and their pillows, setting them on the couch. Their usual ritual of eating dinner together done at the low table in the living room. His eyes unable to tear away from the bandages on her arm as she asked him question after question.

How was his schooling?

Was he making any friends?

Did he have any preferences for sports?

Would he want to go visit Inari’s shrine on the weekend?

A number of questions he didn’t have the answer to and couldn’t summon the will to care about. Half-hearted answers and mumbled replies worrying her but she smiled.

She always smiled.

Once he was dressed in his pajamas, they settled on the couch and Shiori tucked him close to her, the drone of the television in the background.

“You’re getting taller,” she muttered in his hair after a moment of comfortable silence.

“I’m not that much taller…” Kurama grumbled. He was far smaller than his liking and compared to how he used to be, he was pitiful.

“Mm, no.. I think you’re a bit taller.” Shiori kissed the top of his head, her cheek pressed to the pillow and dark hair loose over her shoulders.

Kurama gently nuzzled his head against her chest, hugging her closer to him. The noise from the television distracting him from his thoughts, dulled by her steady heartbeat as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Her arms wrapped around him tightly, hands idly stroking his hair and his back. Slowly she drifted off to sleep and her breaths evened out. Tipping his head back to look at her, Kurama listened to her breathing and waited until she was deep into sleep before slowly and carefully sliding out of her arms.

His footsteps were quiet as he lowered himself to the floor, returning to his room and looking over as his vines dragged the bag from beneath his bed. He had the ability to move faster and he knew it. But he found himself admiring the pictures on his desk, the toys that she had bought for him, the books piled on his shelf. The plants that grew in his room. The peace and quiet that lingered in the dead of the night despite the hammering of his heart attempting to escape his chest.

His vines left the bag at his feet, brushing against his skin before receding. Their sluggish movements mirroring his confusion. Why was he hesitating? He shouldered the bag and turned to make his way downstairs, glancing up at the pictures on the walls and in the kitchen as he went. The certificates and ribbons that he’d accumulated proudly displayed. His heart clenched as he caught sight of the cake mix that was set out on the counter.

If I’m feeling up to it, we can make a cake together.

Kurama swallowed thickly, walking to the back door. Shiori’s sleeping form shifting on the couch but otherwise remaining still as she slept. He frowned when he heard her moving, looking over his shoulder at her silhouette. The television long-since turned off and the living room only lit by the light of the moon.

What would she do if she woke up and found him missing?

The plates can be replaced, but I can’t replace you. There’s only one of you. I don’t want to replace you, Shuuichi.

His own mother with her soft smile, the gentle kiss to his knuckles.

I will love you always… Wherever you go, whatever you do, never forget that, Kurama.

The cool night air swept over him as he opened the door, staring out into the backyard. The roses swaying with a gentle breeze, moonlight paving his way. But he couldn’t move. Realization dousing over him in a cold dread. He stepped back inside, sliding the door shut and hurrying upstairs, shoving the bag beneath his bed.

He didn’t want to go.

He didn’t want to leave her.

The look of pain she’d wear at seeing him gone. Kurama’s heart clenched and he gritted his teeth, hurrying downstairs to where Shiori slept none the wiser.

“Mom…”

Shiori’s face scrunched as she stirred, opening her eyes and peering at him groggily. “Mm?” She rubbed at her eyes, a quick wince of pain before she was sitting up, looking down at him. “… What’s wrong, Shuuichi?”

Kurama pressed his lips together, trying not to tremble or shake at the pain that showed on her face. He was worried about shifting her arms or trying to move them to cuddle closer to her. Feigning a sleepy and unhappy look, he looked up at her. “I had a bad dream.”

Shiori’s eyes softened and she sat up, wincing at the sudden movement but quickly covering it with a faint smile. “It’s okay, come here..” She lifted the blanket for him, accepting him into her arms as he crawled up beside her. His head nuzzling against her cheek while she hugged him closer, rubbing her hand in slow circles on his back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Kurama hesitated. He had always hidden things from her, not wanting to give her more than necessary so that he could continue playing his role. But would she understand? That the child that she loved had been merged with something sinister. That she was harboring someone who was both a murderer and a liar? Who until this day would have left her without a second thought?

He swallowed, burying his face against her chest. “.. You were gone,” he lied, muttering quietly and his voice wavered. “I was alone and I couldn’t find you no mater how hard I tried.”

Shiori smoothed down his tousled hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, her silence allowing him to gather his thoughts. Though his words were a half-lie, he wasn’t sure which mother he was speaking to. The one that he was trying not to abandon now or the one that had given her life for him.

“I’m here, Shuuichi..” Shiori whispered into his hair. “Your mom isn’t going anywhere. It must have been scary, neh? Being by yourself? But I’ll stay… I’ll watch you grow up and long after for as long as I can.”

Kurama closed his eyes and he hugged her tightly. It’d been so long since he felt this. Kuronue’s death had hardened him, his time as a “king” worsened his loneliness, and the more he chased after what he thought would fill the void — the more he yearned to go back to that time. His mother’s unconditional love. Shiori’s.

“… Promise?”

He knew that it wasn’t an easy thing. Explaining death to a child after a nightmare wasn’t ideal. But he knew death. He knew the sordid feelings that came with it. But he felt the determination building in the swell of Shiori’s energy.

“I promise.”

Kurama squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. He knew that he would live longer than she would. That there would come a day when his human vessel would give out and she would be gone. But until then, he would be her son.

“I love you, mother…”

“I will love you always, Shuuichi.”

He was happy enough just to be her son.

[commanders-sole-braincell]

Remembering -Awakened Anon-

They are in charge of everything, after he dies.

“You were the closest friend he had,” the Pale Tree tells them, her voice softened by tragedy. Them and Caithe, and Caithe is a firstborn; Caithe was his sibling, and his confidant, and she can’t do it with all the emotions holding her back. They are the only other choice there is.

The Commander gazes at the grass growing under their feet and tries not to feel bitter as they say yes.

It isn’t fair, they think days later, as they watch the mourners pass them by in a line, faceless. Most mourn the Marshall of the Pact, Cleanser of Orr. A few hundred weep over the Firstborn, and another hundred bow their heads in respect over his manner of death.

Only a few mourn Trahearne as he is- or as he was, flaws and all.

They have an image in their head, a mismatched mosaic made out of all the little facts and small moments they remembered. Trahearne always smelled like dried flowers, the sort you found pressed between the mildewed pages of his many books. Trahearne had been rubbish at using Caladbolgh in the beginning, until they stepped in so he wouldn’t take someone’s head off. Trahearne hated waking up in the mornings and was always just a little less polite at dawn, cocooned in a comforter and eyes half closed. Trahearne once told them where lovers used to meet with something like tension in his eyes, and it only leaked out when they returned his smile.

(Trahearne had been ripped to shreds and they had come too little too late; Trahearne had looked at them and asked to be saved; Trahearne had breathed too shallowly against the edge of their blade.)

(Trahearne, Trahearne, Trahearne)

It gets harder to breathe. They shut their eyes and count the tremors in their breaths, digging their fingers into the flesh of their arm, an anchor, a punishment. In. Out.

No one notices. No one looks to their direction. No one even turns.

(Trahearne would have noticed. Trahearne would have asked what was wrong.)

(But Trahearne is dead, and this is nothing less than they deserve- Trahearne is lost from their own actions, and it is easier to choke quietly on their grief when they think of it that way, because he is dead dead dead- —- The next time they visit the Grove, they feel bile creep up their throat.

The Grove is as always nature unrestrained: soil, and grass, and flowers, dewdrops hanging from leaves like tiny bells, ivy creeping up to form spiraling staircases and mushrooms lighting the way. It used to bring them joy, and in the beginning awe, but now-

Now, they are aware of the floral scent that perpetually hangs over the place. Now, they can smell the undercurrent of pollen and dreams, and it is even worse in the Pale Tree’s Chamber. Now, they remember the way Caladbolg had felt in their hands as they had gone for the killing blow, and all they can think of is how that sword had been from her.

(They had tried to make it painless, tried to make it quick. Caladbolg was heavy in their hands, the hilt biting cold against their skin. Maybe the sword knew, and protested: Not good enough a death for him. Maybe they should have listened, but they didn’t; maybe it is all their fault.) —- They are standing in a desert surrounded by what remained of Vlast, and Rytlock is speaking.

It was me, he says, I released Balthazar. And they want to hate him for it; want to hate him for making another war, of starting a war and dragging them into it, kicking and screaming but no one around to hear. But they can’t. It isn’t their place to.

(Joko, the councilor had suggested, and they had thought of another necromancer in another time and another place who was dead, who they had killed, who hadn’t gotten a second chance but had deserved it much more, and they had said no, wood splintering under their fingers.)

(The Awakened had fallen like flies in the face of their attacks, and they hadn’t cared. Zalambur had looked at them and paled; Zalambur’s voice had shook as he told them he would help, along with his hands.)

I will fix this. Rytlock promises. They watch as his words shake and tremble and thinks of a funeral and a mosaic now faded with age, of guilt and grief and loss.

I know. They tell him. It wasn’t your fault, they let him think, and they watch him muster enough energy to stand and hobble towards Kasmeer and Canach.

It’s okay, they think, and they wonder what would have happened if someone had said those same words to them all those time ago.

(Probably nothing, because the only one they would have wanted to hear it from was him.) —- Most nights, they can’t sleep.

Their nights always end up soaked in blood and sweat and tears- and them huddled next to the fire wondering when it will end; watching the flames cast shadows and wishing they could burn the sweet smell of Caladbolg away from their hands.

(I’m sorry, It was my fault, I want you back, please-)

Sometimes though.

They dream.

Of warmth and wishes and laughter and smiles, and they haven’t been this happy for a long long time- they’re napping in a meadow under the sunlight and there’s someone next to them, they know who he is-

(I love you, I miss you, It’s nice to see you again-)

(I wished you were here.)

When they wake up, they’re always crying, and they think they hate the Nightmare Court a little less now, for all their thorns and rage; sometimes, the dreams do hurt more.

(They never go back to sleep, those nights.) —- When Balthazar raises his sword, they know they’ve failed.

It’s a surprisingly painful realization. But it doesn’t sting as much as it could (as much as it should) because the voices of those they’ve lost seem to ring in their ears as Balthazar slices them into half, drowning out the cruel laughter that qould have otherwise been.

(It’s fitting, that they’d die by the sword. They wonder, as they lie bleeding on the hot sand, whether Trahearne had hurt like this too.)

And then they are in the mists, and this isn’t what they expected of death. It feels odd, and cold, and once they’ve remembered who they are (They forgot, how could they, grasps at their mosaic with trembling fingers and wipes the dust off with care) they wonder if it would feel less alien with their mentor here, or Apathia, or Zott, or anyone, welcoming them.

(Or Trahearne)

And the Mists seem to whisper, and they still feel lost, adrift. Everything feels so far away now, like they are underwater. If they close their eyes, maybe they’ll be there again, maybe they’ll be happy.

What do you want? They hear, and they dont know why but they’re crying. It hurts. What do you need?

I want to see him again, they think, and the world goes black and cold. —- “Commander?”

When they open their eyes, they’re standing in front of Trahearne.

This isn’t real, they think hysterically, but a bigger part is chanting it is, yes, sometimes dreams do come true. They want to hug him. They want to just sit down and stare.

They do nothing like that. Instead, they take a deep breath that doesn’t shake and remembers a funeral, a sword, and a statue eight feet tall that had made them feel furiously guilty and incredibly small.

The words come easy, when they do come.

“Marshall, let me go instead.” —- (It’s okay, it’s okay, they think, as the vines probe at them, as they bite back screams, as their very mind is laid bare like an exposed nerve- It’s okay, this is nothing. He can’t do anything worse than that.) —- When they’re rescued, they can’t think. Their mind is a mess, their thoughts all tangled up in each other like vines. Everything is too loud and too silent and their body hurts.

(Caladbolg is there, and it’s beckoning- No, they don’t want to.)

“I know what’s going to happen, I’ve done this, I don’t want to-“ They babble to Trahearne, and their voice cracks, shatters like ice underfoot. They press their fingers into their eyes hard enough to hurt. “I don’t want to kill you, I don’t want to, but I have to, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I let you get this hurt, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“

They reach for Caladbolg like they’re supposed to, because they know how all these nightmares end- but they don’t get it. There are fingers wrapped around their wrist, slender and familiar. They guide their suddenly limp hands and suddenlt they can feel a pulse under their fingers, a strong steady thrum. There’s pressure on their wrist and warmth under the palm of their hands.

Trahearne looks at them. His eyes are softened by worry. Their words die in their throat and they stare at where their hands are on his chest, the pulse thrumming under their fingertips.

(It’s okay, he’s okay, they realize, they don’t have to kill him this time- it’s okay, it’s going to be okay, and they slump forward, shaking.)

“It’s okay.” Trahearne murmurs, and it is.

———————

HOLY SHIT ANON!!!

I LITERALLY CAN’T THINK OF ANYTHING TO SAY BUT HOLY SHIT!!!

Ngl I’ve literally just been rereading this for the last few days and being absolutely floored!!! This sis o well written and hurts to perfectly omfg! The Mordremoth segment!!!!!!!!!

And that ENDING??!! I can physically feel the Commander’s pain and Trahearne’s confusion and the fact they forgive others but not themselves but Trahearne understands!? Watered my skin and cleared my crops!!!

WRITE A BOOK!!!

[moonlightreal]

Let’s watch in Italian!

Let’s watch some Winx Club in Italian!  I know no Italian but I can comment on the visuals and guess at what they’re saying.  And I’m super impatient for more Winx and not in the mood to type my fanfic or sew more right now.

There will be real episode summaries/reactions when the English episodes come out.

Hit raiplay to watch along—at the moment season 8 has episodes 16-21 though that may change at any time.

19 La Torre Oltre le Nuvole

Italian theme song! My favorite theme is the first but season 4 and 6 are other favorites. Season 8s is fun too, not as forgettable as some.

Flying!  Cowboy flying!  Even Stella seems to be having fun by now.  I like Bloom’s hat, it has mismatched wings on it.

The girls fly down towards some islands… and there’s Diaspro running up to Bloom! Neither is thrilled to see the other.  I wish I knew what they said, I think Disa is giving a sob story-- I would expect it to be a sob story about herself but… no!  Points to Diaspro, she’s told them that Sky is in danger.  And there he is, running from the black unicorn who keeps zapping him with fire!

Sky trips and falls!  His doom approaches!

I think the Winx direct their steeds to fly down and help sky, but they won’t. They’re scared of the black unicorn.  Aisha says they should transform and fly down themselves but Flora has a better idea.  She talks to the trees… it doesn’t work, too much negative energy.

Poor Sky dodges some more zaps.

Bloom’s unicorn dives down, it’s trailing rainbow colored sparkles.  Then the other winx unicorns get brave enough, they kind of circle the black one trailing rainbows.  I think this is unicorn positivifying magic! Heroic music plays!  Bloom uses her bond with her unicorn, I think, and they glow all sparkly.  All the winx unicorns fly in formation making a rainbow in the sky.  Sparkles fall on the black unicorn and he lights up all rainbowy before returning to his usual color.  He’s saved!

The girls land, and Bloom makes sure Sky is ok.  Tecna snaps her fingers and fixes Sky’s suit, love that.

Aisha goes to say hello to the black unicorn, but even rescued he’s a little standoffish.  Here come the unilumens and I think they’re telling the story of the black unicorn.  I think he has a tragic past.

Diaspro joins the party and shuts Bloom down when she tries to talk, then says some Diaspro-ish things to Sky.  Flora hides her face in her hat.  Ooooh, I bet Diaspro just referenced how long she and Sky have been out unchaperoned.  Bloom’s pissed.  Diaspro snarks back.  Sky is embarassed, yeah I bet you are Sky you let her lead you all over the magic dimension.

The black unicorn suddenly advances on Diaspro, who backs away in terror.  then—it licks her face and crouches down to let her mount!  I wish I knew what Diaspro and the lumens were saying, but it seems this unicorn has chosen Diaspro!  She mounts and they fly away.  Diaspro calls something back—but is it, “I’m turning over a new leaf, I’m gonna spend time with creatures who want to be around me!” or is it, “Now I’ve got unicorn power, I’ll win Sky’s heart in season nine!”  Which is it?  I don’t know!  Will she still have a unicorn friend next time she comes to bring the couple drama to our show?  Sadly, probably not, but it would be way cooler if she did!

Stella’s just glad that’s over.

Bloom gives Sky a stare.  The two of them go, ‘hmmf!’ and look away from each other.  I groan.

Flora tries to distract from all this and get everybody back on track for the mission and the rest of the Winx get on board, though Stella says something dumb first.

Sky and Bloom argue.  

Just dump him Bloom, a guy who doesn’t have the backbone to avoid the ex he hates is about as bad as one who actually still likes the ex.

We escape from that and go flying some more!

The Trix watch from the ground.  They chat a bit then go flying after the Winx.

Flying.  Bloom and Sky argue.  he’s flying with his suit wings, not sharing a unicorn.

Magic barrier ahead!  The unicorns light their horns up in a cool visual effect and the barrier opens.  Everyone flies through.

They emerge in what looks like the same place except up ahead is a floating island with a horn-shaped tower.  So I guess they went to a different part of Monocerous.  A purple light shines from a window at the top of the tower.

Instead of just flying there, the unicorns drop the girls off at the bottom of the tower.  ‘Cause you gotta dungeon crawl, you can’t just start at the final room! The girls thank them, and the unicorns fly away.

And then the skies grow stormy!  Sky and Stella have to jump back from a lightning strike.

And there’s our new favorite Trix!  With the other two.

Cosmix time!  The ops I love more in Italian but the transformation songs I don’t care about the language as much.  Except Sirenix, because Sirenix.

Aisha makes a BIG morphix bubble around the Winx, but Darcy takes her out pretty quick so I guess she overreached herself.

Battle battle fighting fighting, we’ll get the prime star first…

Icy does the smart thing and flies towards the top of the tower.  Sky confronts her and Icy… slaps him with a giant ice cube!  Ahahaha!

Bloom sees her sweetie flying through the air stuck to a giant ice cube… but Sky uses his suit and unsticks himself.  He and Icy grab for the prime star!  They’ve both grabbed it!  Purple light explodes out of the tower!

Bloom’s flying up to help when she gets whooshed into the purple and the she’s in this… rainbowy iridescent space?  The background looks like the glittery cosplay fabric I buy for twenty bucks a yard, but only if I have a really good coupon.

In this magic-space Sky is flying, dodging spears of ice.  Icy has some good minimal magic gestures too, she’s summoning big ice stalagmites with just a flick of her finger.  I guess the animators haven’t seen Frozen. Sky is trapped.  Bloom is upset!

Oh no, Bloom can either help Sky or go after the prime star, which will she choose? She looks back and forth.  Sky, to his credit, is trying to escape for himself.  He tells Bloom to go after the prime star.

Cool epic fight music!  Bloom summons her fire dragon, we see it grow out of her hand.  She sends the dragon after Icy while she grabs the prime star. Sky does something with his suit and he lights up and busts out of the ice prison.  Hooray!  In Italian i think Sky did the “yelling the name of your attack” thing when he lights up his suit.

The star case appears and the star tells them something, I presume about how they got the star because they trusted each other.

Icy comes back for more… but the Winx are ready.  Flora blows away all three Trix with a petal storm.  We’re blasting off again!

The girls congratulate themselves.

Their unicorns and the unilumens fly by overhead, and Twinkle flies down to join them.

Now would be a good time for… a concert!  With only Sky as the audience.  Twinkle briefly sits on Sky’s head, which is adorable, then she sits in his arms.  I love that, I always felt there wasn’t enough sitting on each other when the girls had their pixies, you know?  It seems like the kind of bond that would lead to snuggling, like with kittens.

The girls sing, the unicorns fly overhead, Sky nods in time to the music, then he and Bloom have a romantic moment.

Next time: Winxboards!  Mielle!  A giant… pokemon?

20 Il cuore verde di Lynphea

Green Heart of Lynphea, I can understand that just from being Latin-based languages.

Alfea!  Grizelda is giving a lecture in some place with really big plants.  isn’t there a greenhouse that’s like, a portal to another realm with giant plants?  Grizelda conjures a book with old-style botanical drawings of plants inside and an oak leaf on the cover.  The page it opens to has a blue flower and a pomegranate.  

I want to hear more even if I can’t understand it, but the camera follows Flora to an area with normal-sized flowers.

Grizelda lectures. Aisha follows Flora.  Flora’s checking out a bush with buds on it. Aisha magics the buds—but instead of blooming, they stick out their tongues at her!  Hah!  Grizelda comes over and tells Aisha off for using random magic, I assume.

Bloom has a great idea.  Is it a concert?  Every idea Bloom has this season is a concert.

Tecna touches a flower and it slaps her hand with a little vine.  Flora explains… something to Tec.

Stella sings a line to a flower, then talks in a slow hypnotic voice as she tries some magic.  The flower spits water at her.

Grizelda gives them a lecture about not upsetting the plant life.

Star case!  We’re going to Lynphea!  Flora’s happy she’ll get to see her sister.

Valtor’s asteroid!  We’re going to Lynphea!  Stormy lords it over her sisters that she found the prime star.  Darcy has to get between her and Icy.  Valtor opens a portal, but Darcy hangs back after her sisters go through, giving Valtor a significant look.  Hmm.

Winxboarding!  They land at Flora’s house and there’s Mielle!  She’s wearing the outfit from season 6 but looks like the age from season 3.  I mean, art style yeah, but I’d say she really has de-aged.  She comes up about to flora’s waist.  We’ll see if she transforms.

She’s still as fiesty as ever, she says she’s coming along and calls a giant ladybug.  Flora tells her to stay home where it’s safe, like Flora always does.  Bloom backs Flora up; the Trix are dangerous!  The star case appears and its compass points the way, so the Winx summon their boards and fly off.  Mielle follows on her ladybug, because she’s Mielle.  This is exactly what happened in season 7, isn’t it? Mielle follows and rescues them?  Flora should just let her come along!

Giant flowers! Winxboarding!  A walled garden!  that’s where we’re going!

Flora tells them something worrying about the garden… maybe like how you have to be in tune with nature, which the girls certainly were not back at Alfea.

Then there is some singing.  Even more random than the rest of the singing, because we can’t see who is doing it!

It’s these weird flower people.  They are very weird.

They open the gate into the garden, but before the Winx can run through it grows back closed again.  Flora realizes it’s the dance the flower people did that made the gate open.  Stella magics the girls into these adorable flower ballerina dresses.  Stella’s is the best I think, she’s got orange and yellow that go well together.  Musa has good colors too, the others are a bit too pastel for my taste.

Time to dance!  the girls leap around—en pointe, which normal people cannot just do, you have to train your muscles like a long time.  That’s about the limit of my knowledge of ballet: that it’s a serious physical discipline you have to practice every day.  As they leap about the girls’ skirts twirl independently, so this episode must be to sell a doll line with twirling skirts.  They dance around, leap in the air, dance on giant flowers.  I like the idea that the twirling skirts make them float, that could be a fragment of an idea about clothes that give you powers.  Like Mai’s bracelets in Mai-hime, they float out from her arms and she can fly with them.  The visual is neat.

It works!  The gate opens!  The Trix arrive just a minute too late, the Winx have gone through.

Darcy summons an illusion of the dancing Winx to make the gate open.  Go Darcy, that is smart!  Also how did she do that?  I guess they were watching the Winx dance and recreated what she saw.

The inside of this place I’ve been calling a walled garden is really neat.  it’s big, it has many levels and a bridge… it reminds me of a Starcastle!  That’s what it looks like.  It also looks like a wedding cake with several tiers.  On top is a very important heart grown with vines.  that’s where the prime star will be!  There are stairs and paths through the different gardens to get there.

The star case appears and disappears.  The flower people, who I think are called lillin, come to guide the winx to the top.

Up one set of stairs!  The lillin give the Winx seeds which sprout when they put them down.

Next garden! Lillin raking very small gardens and… aloe leaves with giggling faces?  That was weird.

The girls reach the heart at the top!  they’re basically walking on tiptoe even while wearing ballet flats.  The heart has a door in it and Bloom is sure this is where we’ll find the prime star.

Back with Mielle, she’s caught up with the Trix!  She hides behind a bush and listens to them plot.  How’d Mielle get in here?

The Winx now walking flat-footed approach the heart when the ground rumbles and up sprouts a… radish pokemon.  If there were a pokemon based on a radish, this would be it.  This is not the radish spirit in Spirited Away.  It looks friendly at first, then roars at the Winx.

Aisha is keen to try violence but Flora tries talking first.  She gets nowhere. Mielle comes running up then and she and Flora say a few words.

Cosmix time!  We’ll try violence after all!

Flora and Mielle argue, Mielle runs off crying.

Winx vs. radish!

The Trix see Mielle run past and Darcy realizes they can use her as a hostage to get the prime star.  She knows Mielle’s name and that she’s Flora’s sister, which is creepy to me.  Mielle gets zapped with Darcy-magic.

Winx vs radish! Bloom does her dragon, which goes right through the critter, which then falls to the ground as an actual radish.  That fight ended fast!

But here’s Icy and Stormy!  As they face the Winx, flora hears Mielle’s voice calling for help.  She abandons the Winx to save her sister.  Flora searches and finds Mielle passed out under a tree.  She says she was attacked by Darcy.

I’m pretty sure this IS Darcy, but Flora heals her sister’s injured leg while the Winx fight the other two.  Flora picks up Mielle and they fly up to the heart.  The rest are still fighting and I think Mielle says Flora should get the prime star while they’re distracted.  This is solid logic and Flora goes into the heart.  

It’s a very leafy room with the prime star floating in its hamster ball in the center. Mielle hops out of Flora’s arms and runs to it—and grabs it and turns into Darcy.  And laughs and flies off.

So Darcy can change her weight when she uses an illusion; Flora was carrying her and the real Darcy would weigh the same as Flora.

The real Mielle wakes up in the forest.  She’s fine, and mad.

The Trix make a clean getaway with the prime star!

Mielle runs up and hugs Flora.  

Next scene the girls are back in their space clothes sitting on the front steps of Flora’s house.  Flora has guilt over being tricked.  Mielle I think says it’s her fault for following, but Flora says something that makes it all right and they smile and laugh.  Mielle conjures a rose that sparkles with magic.

I do kinda like that Mielle didn’t rescue them, so it wasn’t exactly the same plot as last season.  But i wish She’d gotten to get a little revenge on Darcy!

Then we’re back at Alfea and the flowers  from the beginning of the episode have bloomed.  Flora casts a spell and sparkles come spiraling up from them.  She’s wearing the flower that Mielle gave her in her hair, so I guess sisterly love gave her the magic of nature.

Next time: Melody! Musa’s dad!  Riven!  Darcy getting up to more stuff!  Dance Dance Revolution!  Some very strange outfits!