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daverygalskisbff · 3 years

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could we get some allura & lance friendship prompts? i LOVED your other ones btw 💖💖💖💖

HI I'm sorry this took forever I have honestly no idea why bc I adore these two and I ADORE this prompt so my brain should not have shut down the way it did. anywayz to make up for the wait i tried to make this a bit longer than my usual posts :) I hope you like it!

(also, as usual, everything here I came up with myself, and if there's any similarity to someone elses post I apologise and promise it wasn't intentional)

now without further ado,

Lance and Allura!

similar to lance and pidge, the two are decidedly Not close in the beginning

i had an entire thing about how i imagine they became friends at first written out, but it was a tad too long and i didn't want to clog up the post with too much exposition. so instead, let's just skip forward and get into their dynamic after they become buddies :) (however, if anyone wants to see the backstory I would not be opposed)

although he no longer has a crush on her, lance makes it a point to hype her up as much as he possibly can

at first allura was confused, because she thought it was him trying to flirt with her still, but once she understood what was going on she was more than willing to join in

lance when allura completely destroys the training droid: WOWZA ladies and gentlemen of the jury may I present to you the icon the legend the moment herself her royal highness princess allura of altea!!!!! if you thought that was impressive just WAIT till she gets warmed up because this is just the beginning!!! she can even do it in heels-

shiro: lance, please focus, this is really important that we-

allura: no no, shiro, please. let him finish.

they both show their friendship in slightly different ways. lance's way is that he is physically incapable of not humouring the princess

allura when lance shows her his cartwheel: incredible!!!!!!! i have never been more impressed in my life!!! do you think you could do it in heels??

lance: uhhh. y'know princess I'm really loving the faith, but-

allura: :)?

lance:.... what if you don't have my size?

lance fractured his ankle. allura has yet to stop apologising.

allura's way is definitely safer, but it's also a lot more... cluttered. to say the least.

allura, returning from a recon mission with a tiny bag filled with what looks like tiny, glittery dinosaur figurines made of glass: lance! look at what i bought for you!

lance, taking one look at the contents of the bag: wow, 'lurra, this is… so nice of you

allura: lance, are you. are you crying?

lance (definitely crying): what? NO! of course not!! I'm just. allergic, to. uh. oxygen.

allura: what.

allura never had any siblings back on altea, but she always wanted them

this, paired with how much lance misses his own family, means that the two of them kind of gravitate towards each other in terms of siblinghood.

as a child allura would imagine what it would be like to have siblings, but especially a twin. she would fall asleep to dreams of secret handshakes, finishing each other's sentences, and swapping places to trick people

she doesn't realise the brother she has found in lance until a long time after they've become close (how would she recognise a dynamic she has never been privy to?)

this realisation happens on just a random day in the castleship lounge. she is talking to hunk, when suddenly lance, who she didn't even realise was listening to their conversation, butts in and finishes her sentence.

she's annoyed at being interrupted at first, but then what happened sinks in, and suddenly she's fighting off tears. lance doesn't know why she's crying, but he hugs her anyway.

the two of them match accessories a lot

with allura's love of pretty things (and the abundance of stuff in her closet) paired with lance's natural dramatics, nobody else on the team is entirely sure of whether this is intentional or not.

it started off as intentional. it is now second nature.

one decision, however, was completely planned and thought out for exactly twenty minutes, and then deeply regretted by both parties for the next 48 hours

allura pierced lance's ears

now before you get judgemental, you try making a smart decision at two am space-time while very giddy and slightly buzzing on some weird old alien candy that not even your resident alien is sure the ingredients of. then talk to me.

pidge: okay so you're gonna need a needle, ice, and… yeah I'm pretty sure that's it

lance: don't we need a potato too

pidge: … why the fuck would you need a potato

lance: I dunno!!! my sister pierced her friend's ears one time and she mentioned a potato!!! I'm just trying to make sure everything goes well, pidge!

allura: I love these earth customs you two are showing me!! when I got my ears pierced it was done with some kind of laser, but your way sounds much more fun :).

allura: also, what is a "potato" and where can we find one?

it goes about as well as you would expect

the excited buzz on lance lasts about three ticks into the process, and then the screaming starts

pidge (the genius who came up with the idea) gives him some altean taffy to chew on to stop him from making too much noise, and allura, the angel, is babbling right along with him

allura, with tears in her eyes: how was I supposed to know it was going to hurt mine didn't hurt well it was 10,000 years ago and I was very young altean children don't have very strong pain receptors you know, maybe that's why my parents had it done at that age, or maybe your people are just completely barbaric, who thought this would be a good idea?? pidge why did you suggest this poor lonce is in tears lonce I'm so sorry but if it's any consolation at all at least now your ears won't be nearly as hideous as before and you can borrow as many of my earrings as you want except for the sparkly green ones that dangle those are my favourite well they're actually my second favourite I'm wearing my favourite - you can't borrow those either, by the way, but you can have any of the others I promise

lance, also crying and still chewing the altean taffy: hhb, llura yub domf hoff do bologuys, ss long'ss yub sanstsd thu niddle frst

allura (who did not remember to sanitize the needle), now crying freely: I don't understand what you're saying

(pidge records the entire thing)

the next day lance wakes up with ears that are very sore and slightly green, and allura faints

they spend the entire morning avoiding shiro in case they get in trouble and trying to figure out how to get the healing pods to work

lance: what do you mean you don't know allura you literally lived in one of these

allura: I was asleep the whole time!!! don't put this on me!!

lance: don't put- you are the one that pierced my ears, allura, of course it's on you!

coran, who has been watching this entire interaction in silence: oh, I thought i noticed something different about you, number three!

lance and allura: [screaming]

coran helps them set up the healing pod

unfortunately lance has to take the earrings out, so the holes close back up, but fortunately coran just so happens to know how to pierce ears the correct way that they did on altea

lance, after half a day in the healing pod, watching coran advance upon him with a literal handheld flamethrower that shoots lasers: is it too late to go back to the ear infection

coran is surprisingly very adept at the skill of altean beautification (an activity that has a surprisingly long and rich backstory, which lance and allura get an in-depth lesson on for the hour that it takes to do lance's ears properly)

they're exhausted afterwards, but lance looks great, so they're in good moods regardless

they like to teach each other about things from their respective planets - both for fun, and because it helps them feel less homesick

whenever allura is particularly down about the loss of altea, lance will visit her in her room, and the two of them will just lie together on her bed.

they don't say much, most of the time, just link their pinkies together and stare at the ceiling

when they do talk, it's quiet, and always allura who starts it - she might share something she remembers about altea, and lance listens quietly and then responds with something he misses about cuba

it isn't always sad tho - sometimes they just talk about things they remember that pop into their heads, or explain things to each other that they wouldn't otherwise know

at the space mall, they make a game out of pointing things out to each other and trying to guess what it is (allura can only guess when they're in the earth shop, but it's okay because she more than makes up for it in enthusiasm)

lance, holding a my little pony collectible: okay princess. what is this.

allura, completely serious: a weapon

lance: ... close

allura, holding up a set of magnetic heart necklaces to the light: what does… "biffs" mean?

lance: it's "bffs," princess, it means "best friends forever"

allura: oh! you mean like me and you?

lance:

lance: 'lurra what did we say about making me cry in public, we've talked about this-

(they buy the necklaces. obviously.)

they mess with each other's hair a lot

once allura learns that lance's hair is naturally curly, and that he just straightens it all of the time, she makes it her god-given mission to convince him to wear it naturally more often

this mission includes plans such as stealing his hair straightener, "donating" a bunch of curly hair products to him because she "doesn't have the space", and getting keith to say he thinks curly hair is cool one day in the rec room

she still thinks it's the funniest thing ever that that actually worked

other than week-long sabotage plots, they both think it's fun to have lance braid allura's hair

he used to braid his sister's and niece's hairs all of the time, so he has a knack for it that allura did not expect at all but is obsessed with anyway

allura, coming to lance's room a few hours before another diplomatic party: hey..... how yall doin.....

lance, already prepared with a million different brushes and bands: oh my god just get in already

lance and allura have a lot in common

one of these things, they learn very early into their relationship, is that they are both disasters when it comes to pretty girls (and boys, but that's a lance-exclusive situation)

so they become each other's wingmen

they both tend to get… a little too into it

the team: [at a diplomatic ball]

lance, seeing a pretty alien girl looking allura's way and "politely" speedwalking over to her: alluralluraalluraalluraalluralluraalluraalluraalluralluraalluraallura pretty girl look over there eleven o'clock LOOK she's gonna walk away looklooklook

allura: lance darling thank you so much for your help but I am in the middle of talking to the president

and alternatively:

allura tries to set lance and keith up all the time. at first she was worried she would be overstepping boundaries, but after one particular sleepover where lance spent an entire hour lamenting his "bad luck" she decided to take things into her own hands

this includes, but is not limited to; sending them on supply missions alone together (often), mentioning particular things lance has done to his appearance to keith every time she can, and talking about specific paladin bonds more than she maybe should

lance hates it

keith, walking into the lounge: h-

allura, immediately: hello keith!! help settle an argument, will you :)?

keith: um… okay

allura: lovely! now, tell me, do you think lance looks cuter today than he did yesterday? we can't seem to agree on whether or by he's stunning or simply handsome. what do you think?

keith: uh-

allura: oh, and while I have you, have you noticed that his ears are pierced?

lance, beet red: allu-

allura: what :(?? can't i be proud of my handiwork??

lance, to keith: I am not associated with her

after a week of this keith literally sets up a system where if allura is in a room he walks into he just does a complete 180 and walks back out

one time, at a diplomatic meeting, an alien politician mistook them for a couple and they both choked on their drinks at the same time, and then got offended that the other one agreed that the concept was insane

allura: what happened to being the princess of your dreams, lance?? I thought I MEANT something to you. obviously! i was wrong!

lance: oh yeah?? then why did you GIGGLE, allura. what's so funny, huh?? my good looks??? my charming charisma?? how far out of your league I am???

allura:

lance: okay maybe that last one was a bit of a stretch

another thing lance and allura do is pronounce each other's names wrong

they call each other lonce and allora

it started as lance kind of making fun of allura's accent, but turned into just one of their Things

allura honestly didn't know it was a bit until the habit had been long constructed

#pippa.post #pippa.canon #vld lance #vld keith #vld allura #klance #vld pidge #pippa.ask #vld shiro #i added klance bc i know you like it gia i hope this was up to your standard <3 #vld coran #vld team

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digital-roots · 3 years

Text

Very Long Addisons Headcanons Post (read the one for species wise here)

Tang O. Addison

- she/they

- advertises normal fashion stuff but also sites that are abt diy projects

- generally a really nice person

- ...to other addisons. to customers, they are a menace that will unapologetically scam you

- likes dressing very formal

- has a nice collection of tiny hats (not for sale)

- loves animals, has tried to own a poppup once but it ran away

- met Spamton and introduced him to the others

- mediates when the others fight

- desperately tries to bring the group together for nights at the cyber grill like old times

Taffy P. Addison

- he/they

- specializes in products made for couples and dating sites

- gives the others nicknames

- all of them overwork but Taffy does to an extreme extent

- very opportunistic

- true weakness is sweets

- is missing a tooth due to tripping over spamton once

- is never seen with his hair down

- Got a box of mysterious rings after a secret trip to a shady part of the city

- will ignore any talk abt spamton and/or will just spitefully say how he deserved his downfall (doesn't actually mean it but like. better that than actually confront the fact you abandoned your best friend lmao)

Watt Y. Addison

- xe/xem

- advertises with those weird videos for mobile games

- most energetic of the four

- loves kids

- only one not so keen on scams

- kinda strong, can carry the others without sweat

- is about 2 inches short Tang and Taffy so naturally the two joke abt xem being small as fuck

- probably drinks the darkner equivalent of monster energy

- wears "sick" shades when not working

- moved to a different part of cyber city after spamton was evicted

- really sweet outside of work

- overall just a thembo

Char B. Addison

- he/she

- mainly uses free trials and samples of sorts to hook in customers

- usually a "go with the flow" kinda person

- lowkey a lil emo

- not someone you would want to make mad

- physically very weak but magic attacks are very strong

- semi popular due to his sweet and carefree attitude. obvs takes advantage of this

- reliable kind of person

- most responsible out of the four (but thats a low bar)

- tried finding more info abt what happened to Spamton and even tried to break in the mansion once before eventually giving up

- oh god i just realized i made her sans undertale but tall

Bonus Spamton G Spamton

- he/it and pan

- the g stands for garage mix (thats a color)

- always had the speech tics it had ingame, but used to be more controllable

- older than the addisons

- was short even before getting dumped in acid

- his legs are literal nubs because of that

- scrounges from the trash, especially for food, hair products, etc. The first one is self explanatory but the latter is because he still cares a lot about appearances

- very much Hates itself (but tbf thats canon)

- has chipped black nails

- stole the thorn ring from Taffy a while back before he became famous

- can speak in wingdings (recently found a loophole where his censoring does not detect swears in wingdings. unfortunately does not like talking in it as it obvs brings up bad memories.)

Notes

- From least bastard to most: Watt>Char>Tang>Taffy>Spamton

- All of them are still coping terribly at Spamtons dissapearance

- Yes they are all trans

- In snowgrave, Char was the only one that escaped. Tang and Watt are stuck after the fountain was closed, and we all know what happened to Taffy :)

- On a more wholesome note, if Spamton actually did come back to them, while it would be very difficult to mend together, eventually their relationship would be good again :)

#deltarune #spamton #blue addison #pink addison #yellow addison #orange addison #deltarune addisons #a-maize-ing post #long post

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pepperonitimeline · 4 years

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There is an interesting emphasis on timelines in Steven Universe

but like. Why?

Hypothesis: Steven Universe is made up of multiple timelines, but shown in an order that makes the events seem linear. read part 2 here!

I'm not the first person to speculate this at all. A lot of this stuff has been pointed out by @dogcopter @arrozbrillante @stevenutheories and many others on various platforms!

I just gathered the most conspicuous "evidence" into 1 post. If you’re interested in SU theory and analysis you should check out their blogs. :o) This was as short as I could make it..

And a big thank you to @love-takes-work for her podcast summaries!!!

So, most ostensibly there’s Garnet, who can see multiple futures. In Pool Hopping she begins to call her visions timelines specifically.

Garnet: In this timeline, we do the opposite of that. Hey, you! Have a pizza!

Steven: Hey, Vidalia's house is around here. Let's bring her the last pie.

Garnet: Now, that would be nice. She must be upset that her son was taken into space by those Homeworld Gems. (referring to the events of I Am My Mom)

Steven: You mean Onion? He isn't in space. He's right over there. *points*

Garnet: Sorry, I-I must be thinking of a different timeline.

Garnet: My bad. I was sure we were in the pepperoni timeline.

Garnet: It's important to keep in mind that all these horrible things did happen to you in alternate timelines. Safety is fun.

In Steven and The Stevens:

Yeah

It was confirmed on the podcast that the Steven we see from that episode on is a different Steven than the one from episodes 1-21. In “The Fantasy of Steven Universe” Sugar explains:

"I think, early on, we knew for sure what we wanted to do was to create episodes that feel self-contained but give you a new piece of information or change the characters fundamentally. So, Steven and the Stevens, is tight but Steven does change fundamentally after having that experience. He's not the same- in THAT case he's LITERALLY not the same character..."

It’s muffled because they're all laughing but right after they say this Matt Burnett goes “He died.”

Link to the episode

Love-takes-work also has a text summary of the episode

youtube

But something I haven't seen discussed very much is the time travel chase scene. Granted it’s very blink-and-you’ll miss it, there are some Stevens who witness the other Steven’s fighting but that don’t end up in the Sea Shrine at the end.

Way back in 2015 @stevenutheories already did the math as to how many alternate timelines may have stemmed from the time shenanigans: 3 to 5. Not counting the original one who is definitively gone.

Technically quantum mechanics don’t work like that and those Stevens should have been Thanos’d too. I’m not going to pretend I understand physics, that is just what I’ve been told by someone who does. But then again the magic time thingy wasn’t bound by rules of real-life physics in the first place… so ??

Let’s cross-examine SATS’ accompanying KBCW post.

“At any given moment, if you asked me what I was thinking about, the answer would be one of two things: katana swords, or THE POSSIBILITY OF ALTERNATE TIMELINES RUNNING PARALLEL TO OUR OWN!

Proving the existence of these timelines can be pretty tricky, even for a seasoned paranormal investigator such as myself. An inter-temporal incursion caused by the momentary weakening of the time-space continuum doesn’t really photograph well. And all the cross dimensional time travelers I know don’t want to go on the record about their experiences. Frankly, the only thing I can submit as evidence of alternate timelines is the fact that THEY ARE PROBABLY JUST SO COOL AND AWESOME THAT THEY HAVE TO BE REAL.

Think about it! What about a universe where that asteroid missed Earth and we had DINOSAURS for pets instead of dogs? Or a universe where someone was like “Hey, zeppelins are way cooler than planes, let’s just do that!” Or a universe where AN ALTERNATE VERSION OF ME CAN GROW A FULL BEARD?! What an amazing life that Ronaldo must have… in THIS stupid reality I have a really hard time getting my moustache to connect to the rest of my facial hair and it’s incredibly frustrating.”

KBCW and Ronaldo’s commentary in general are usually half-right. Like the “Polymorphic Sentient Rocks are aliens who want to hollow out the earth… to make it lighter so they can transport it back to their star system” thing.

I can't help but think the "Dinosaurs for pets instead of dogs" is a reference to the live action Super Mario Bros. movie- where the meteor that killed the dinosaurs sent them to a parallel universe instead, causing mammals to go instinct in said universe. (Don’t know about the zeppelins.)

And then, and THEN there’s Keep Beach City Safe, KBCW’s more obscure rival blog run by (most likely) Onion under the pseudonym "The Observer". Apparently he’s planted cameras all over town to record Steven’s adventures. There's also a "Recruiter" and second mystery narrator calling themselves "Marco Díez", it's a whole thing,

Assuming it’s real, here’s one of the posts I think are the most relevant.

“I have been on zero gem hunts over the years, and what i have learned over the years is: always be prepared for anything, and everything. Connie’s already knows that and this her first mission. I, wasn’t so fortunate on my first mission. It was a crisp Autumn morning, - with notes of cinnamon in the air. I was the mountains, the air temperature, humidity and level elevation levels, were perfect.

Then, I noticed the creature, it was charging me. I tried to evade the gem monster, but it just kept on coming, and coming! There was no escape! And then- Wait! I just remembered. I never been on a gem hunt! So where did I get that story from?”

This was posted on August 1st alongside Gem Hunt… and the day after the Greg The Babysitter post, which was deleted earlier this year, right after people started interacting with it again.

Being a Babysitter is hard, especially if your Greg Universe. This guy, in the picture above me. Wait did I just become self aware? Hey, I did! Haha, I always knew I was more to me than just a narrator. Actually this is the first time I thought about, Because I'm self aware baby! Woohoo, yeah! Wait, what was I talking about? Ah yes, Gregory. So this Greg guy,Has to Babysit this cool baby, because he owes her for letting him mooch off her. And Greg, is like totally irresponsible, he some how lets the baby climb a Ferris Wheel. How does that even happen? This dude is so not getting payed. And what's up with his hair!?!

So here it is, another story, told by Greg, about his past self. I wonder how many times I started a paragraph with the word so. And when he was telling this story, we got some clues that could finally tell use when all of this started. We know about the gems and what happened thousands of years ago, but we don't know about the hems and what happened thousands of years ago. They wee being very vague about the whole thing. Almost intentionally, well it was obsessively intentional.

There are subtle inconsistencies in Beach City's layout. ("The Observer" points this out, too.)

Remember Danny’s? In Bubble Buddies and Joking Victim, there’s a shop named Danny’s Salt Water Taffy.

Then in Watermelon Steven it’s gone.

As for a prop: Chaaaaps used to just be Chips

That’s from Monster Buddies, the episode right after Steven and The Stevens.

It's just as likely someone on the show simply thought the background/chips looked a little too busy or whatever. But re-doing stuff costs a lot of time and money, yknow? Neither of which is the animation industry very generous about. Did you know even props have model sheets?

Of course it could just be another brand of chips. Maybe Utz got involved somehow.

Lastly I want to highlight a quote from a Rebecca Sugar interview regarding SU ending.

“The story is continuing off screen and I do know what happens next, at least in certain timelines, for the characters,” Sugar says. “But I would have to decide how and when I’d want to dig into that, or if it’s best to give them their privacy.”

yeah so like what the fuck

#steven universe theory #su theory #long post #multiple timeline theory #deep lore #don't judge my blog theme im still working on it #only 2014 kids remember Danny's Salt Water Taffy

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wiltingpierrot · 4 years

Text

Gem Glow: Part 1

Welcome! Well, this isn’t really made to entertain. I’m just doing this to recover from trauma and get a good grasp of the show’s lore while having my girls react with me. Feel free to tag along.

We’ll be watching four episodes a day and react only to the major events as tackling all of them is a toughie.

Sharpie: “I want to see real tears, Wilt.”

Wilt: “Tears? At the very first episode?”

Sharpie: “Yes. Otherwise I’ll make you cry by some other means.”

Wilt: “I have these tear marks. Those count, yes?”

Sharpie: “Real tears, I said.”

Wilt: “Ahh, how iconic.”

Spinel: “The area around the lighthouse is lacking a lot of flowers. That’ll change someday!”

Sharpie: “Yes, after a lot of blood, ink and tears had been shed first.”

Spinel: “Here we have a shot of the show’s hero, lamenting the discontinuation of a certain ice cream snack brand.”

Sharpie: “Is this triggering your PTSD yet?”

Wilt: “Not really. I thought it would but surprisingly I’m still okay.”

Lars: “Well, if you miss your wimpy ice cream so much, why don’t you make some with your MAGIC BELLY BUTTON?”

Spinel: “Hey Sharpie, let’s make foodstuff with just the energy in our gem.”

Sharpie: “And you still owe me 86 years’ worth of happiness.”

Wilt: “What is this civil conversation you’re having? That’s not how I wrote you two.”

Sadie: “Uhh Steven? Do you want to take the freezer with you?”

Spinel: “Think what would’ve happened if Sadie didn’t let him take that freezer home.”

Sharpie: “Does… does the cat’s face looked different to you?”

Spinel: “I love the lighthouse. The view up the top is always so breathtaking.”

Sharpie: “I’m not so happy with our roommate though.”

Wilt: “…I might have to draw this someday.”

Spinel: “Don’t you just love it when your pets greet you as you enter your house? I wish you would greet me whenever I fall asleep.”

Sharpie: “You’re just my nightmare.”

Amethyst: “’Sup, Steven.”

Spinel: “AME!!!!”

Spinel: “I AM IN LOVE.”

Sharpie: “You can stop replaying this 5 seconds worth of Pearl now.”

Spinel: “It’s 4 seconds worth of Pearl, you heathen.”

Spinel: “HOOO MAMA. Remember when Garnet kicked our ass?”

Sharpie: “She kicked your ass. She kicked your ass so much I had to start a switch to intervene. Now that I think of it, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Sharpie: “Being sliced open is one thing. Being pulled apart is another.”

Spinel: “It’s good that we’re stretchy.”

Sharpie: “I can disable that function and tear you apart like that, actually. Ever wondered why it doesn’t hurt when others pull at you like taffy but I can?”

Spinel: “I can do the same and prevent you from escaping my hugs.”

Sharpie: “*sigh*… I hate you.”

Spinel: “Ahaha! Pearl is so cute!”

Sharpie: “Ahaha! I love this technique.”

Wilt: “It’s good for breaking a hole through walls in maximum security prisons, yeah.”

Amethyst: “Uhh you guys, these things don’t have gems.”

Garnet: “That means there must be a mother somewhere nearby.”

Sharpie: “That’s a fascinating thought.”

Wilt: “It’s similar to how Pearl can project figures that can maintain itself while independent of the source. In this case, the main centipeedle can project independent but smaller versions of itself.”

Sharpie: “How come 2nd Projections aren’t like that, I wonder. Like we can’t have separate bodies or anything…”

Wilt: “Probably because the 2nd Projection has a personality of its own and it stems from the original gem, while Pearl Projections and mini-centipeedles are pre-programmed projections that would act accordingly to the original’s commands. Like, if Spinel makes a projection separate from her, it wouldn’t be you.”

Sharpie: “Fair enough.”

Spinel: “Speaking of Pearl Projections…”

Sharpie: “No.”

Pearl: “Steven, until you learned to control the powers in your gem, we’ll take care of protecting humanity. Okay?”

Spinel: “I want Pearl to snap my neck like that.”

Sharpie: “As if impaling you wasn’t enough.”

Spinel: “PFFFTT-“

Amethyst: “We went out and stole a bunch!”

Spinel: “That’s my Ame.”

Pearl: “I went back and paid for that.”

Sharpie: “That’s…. that’s very Pearl of her.”

Steven: “He left his family behind!”

Spinel: “AHAHAHAHAHA”

Sharpie: “What’s so funny about that?”

Sharpie: “Oh my stars. I hope we don’t have to bear another one of those.”

Wilt: “It’s catchy. I like it.”

Sharpie: “What a happy little family. It’s a shame that they’re doomed to a life of madness onwards.”

Amethyst: “Quick! Try and summon your weapon!”

“Awww, no weapon.”

Wilt: “He’s struggling. A sign of a well-rounded character. The progress is dramatic if we compare this episode to the last ones. And it only took him a few Earth years.”

Sharpie: “And it took us like what, 86 years to get this far and we’re still inferior to most we meet in our travels.”

Spinel: “God I love Pearl.”

Sharpie: “Can you even pay attention to anything that isn’t Pearl?”

Spinel: “I’m capable of paying attention to a lot of things and to nothing at the same time, Sharpie. Be amazed.”

Steven: “Can one of you just explain how to summon a weapon?”

Pearl: “Oh! I’ll go first.”

Wilt: “I love Pearl.”

Spinel: “I love Pearl.”

Sharpie: “…”

Spinel: “AUUGH! Pearl is so beautiful.”

Wilt: “This is so anime.”

Spinel: “This scene makes me wanna stand underneath a cherry blossom tree with her in a Friday afternoon and confess my love.”

Sharpie: “God both of you disgust me.”

Pearl: “Pay attention to these petals, Steven.”

Pearl: “The petal’s dance seems improvised, but it is being calculated in real-time based on the physical properties of this planet.”

Wilt: “HELL YEAH, I LOVE PEARL.”

Pearl: “With hard work and dedication, you can master the magical properties of your gem, and perform your own dance.”

Pearl: “Like so.”

Spinel: “HELL YEAH, I LOVE PEARL”

Sharpie: “So… Pearl’s approach is tuning into the technical reality of the universe to tap into her gem’s energy,”

Amethyst: “Listen Steven. All that practice stuff is no fun. Whenever I need to summon my weapon, it just happens.”

Sharpie: “And Amethyst’s approach is just winging it. Considering Ame is a gem made for war, of course summoning a weapon is natural instinct. Pearl however… She had to learn serious fighting, something most Pearls aren’t made for.”

Spinel: “We’re the same, ain’t we? Spinels ain’t made for violence but we can whoop butt just fine.”

Sharpie: “We just got lucky… and incredibly unfortunate at the same time.”

Sharpie: “Gems are such nuisances. So much that in other places of the world, a group of humans actually built little Distortion Bombs capable of disorienting corrupted gems to a point of repelling them away. Unfortunately those things are powered by tiny bits of gem shards, which is obviously not an easily obtainable source of power. The project was discontinued.”

Spinel: “The invention worked on us, too, which is kind of impressive!”

Sharpie: “The best those little bombs done to us were to irritate us, or temporarily disable our senses. Corrupted gems have warped sentience I think, so they would rely more on instincts and run away from the source of irritation as much as possible.”

Sharpie: “They say if enough energy is given into the device, it’ll have high enough amplitude to potentially dissipate a gem’s physical form. But this is just a fever dream. There’s no way they have access to that amount of energy without slaughtering a Diamond first. Still, props to the engineer who thought that was a good idea.”

Spinel: “So instead of using gem shards, he decided to use us by writing the function into Springy. If we poof, we can give bad gems nearby a head ache and make them go away. We can protect people even if we die in battle! He basically turned us into heroic suicide bombers against corrupted gems.”

Sharpie: “Necessary, considering every time we poof we somehow cause part of a building to catch on fire, killing the people we’re supposed to protect in the process.”

Spinel: “Uh huh… yeaaahh….. I mean, where else is the excess energy supposed to go?”

Sharpie: “I dunno. Some other harmless form of energy apart from heat? The sparkly dust clouds were already perfect and you just had to change it into something deadlier. Thanks to you, seven people that stood close to us turned into soup.”

Spinel: “Well, there was that one time where the fire storm actually saved us from a meanie who wanted to crush us. We can’t just ignore that.”

Sharpie: “Seven people died, Spinel. Seven people that happened to be our allies.”

Wilt: “Please stop. We have to finish this episode.”

Steven: “So I’m supposed to work really hard and not try at all at the same time?”

Garnet: “Yes.”

Garnet: “Or…”

Garnet: “You can link your mind with the energy of all existing matter, channeling the collective power of the universe through your gem.”

Garnet: “At least that’s my way of doing it.

Spinel: “C’mon, kiddo. It’s not that hard to understand. It’s how Springy lived for the past 40 years. If she can do it, so can you.”

Sharpie: “I bet this makes the most sense to you, huh Wilt?”

Wilt: “It does. Considering we are all just ripples of energy on the surface of the large lasagna we call the observable universe.”

Sharpie: “What a nerd. Also we’re half-way through the episode. You better cry, Wilt.”

Wilt: “I’m saving this shot for reference.”

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musubiki · 4 years

Note

so after mochi comes back after being gone for a while what is her reunion with lime like?? i can practically picture him giving her a bear hug and lifting her off the ground and carrying her away lmao

OOOH ITS CUTE.,...,...BUT NOT THAT HAPPY SINCE ITS RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT LIKE MOST THINGS ARE!!!!!!!!

since mochi came back once the coattails (or whoever depending on if i change the story) actually get smart for once, and in order to lure her out of hiding and back where they can get she ass, they attack the guild who are still centered in wessport, so she has to cut her training short and come back to help them!!!! (which pom is like “ok” since she was close to finishing anyway)

ANYWAY WHEN SHE COMES BACK THE FIRST PERSON SHE SEES AGAIN IS COCO!!!!!!!!! cuz theyre all seperated within a few city blocks of each other, and she comes to cocos aid first, as shes about to get vibe checked and saves her. and coco is like “AHHH MOCHI!!!” and tackles her. que mochi being like “ahaha reunion later!!! fight first!!!”

and the rest of the guild kinda trickles back to wherever coco is because “damn, i saw that explosion from sampson street, the fuck are u doing coco?” and then flip out when they see mochi. the order they see her is coco, oscar, taffy, and THEN LIME.

(and this is a tangent but a note on lime: for the first few months after mochi left he was a mess and very unproductive and depressed, after after the first year was when he started doing the underground stuff and he slowly became more of a functioning member of society again, but was still mega grumpy since mochi wasnt around, so by the time she comes back hes okay, just more snippy to everyone in general)

so HES the last one to regroup, and is not fully there because hes scanning around making sure hes not gonna get his head lopped off, and is on full alert because when mochis not around hes basically the head of the guild and cant let anything happen to the rest of them. so he runs in, out of breath, saying something like “guys! i came back when i saw that huge explosion- whatever!! we should get down to the beaches, i fought some of them off but they wont be gone for.....for......................for long...” and his sentence kinda just trails off because. shes there. just. standing in the middle of the rest of the guild.

and its this BIGASS silent pause. he actually looks away/slaps his face because for a minute he thinks hes finally snapped, but shes still there after hes done calibrating to reality. and there are no words from him. and MOCHI IS PRETTY FROZEN TOO, SHE JUST TURNED FROM THE BADASS CAT WITCH INTO A CLAMMED UP SCHOOLGIRL, FIDDLING WITH HER HANDS!!!!!

and she mutters out a small “h.......hi lime..” with a cute lil tiny wave. and he stands there for a minute, before walking toward her a little urgently. and mochi was gonna TRY to be cool but as soon as he started moving towards her she essentially runs into his arms and crumbles. and shes just weeping, trying not to bawl, she missed him so so so much.

its such a tight, warm, loving, sloppy embrace, complete with her hands clutching onto his jacket, and getting her tears all over his shoulder. hes burying her face in her neck, taking in all her warmth and the smell of her clothes, his hands are tangled in her hair. hes practically lifting her off the ground with how close hes holding her. he mumbles out a soft “hi mochi.” into her neck and she laughs softly at it. theyre just in their own little world. it lasts for a bit too long, because lime is just refusing to let her go. its like some irrational fear that if he lets her out of his arms she’ll disappear again.

and cocos in the back like 😏 but also “hey uhhhh what happened to reunion later, fight first?”

#LONG POST BUT I THINK ABOUT THIS REUNION A LOT #anyway lime still isnt okay even after she came back #he has walls up in a way that mochis not familiar eith and doesnt know how to deal with #unconcious defense mechanism in case she leaves again which is unlikely but to himstill possible and hes not ready to be hurt again #theres a lot going on in his head #they end up okay and are closer than before after its all said and done but it is. painful #painful as in painfully awkward

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a-wanderin-whirlybird · 4 years

Text

Flight if Destiny: Prologue

(An Ever After High fic, set in an au where the evil queen decides to be a good mom. Cowritten with @offwiththeirbuds )

It was over. Finally. Robin Queen leaned against the back alley wall. Her enemy, Snow White had decided to try and do more than banish her after awakening. She tried to have Robin arrested and tossed in prison. Thankfully Robin hadn't done anything outside the realm of their story, so there was no way to arrest her. But Robin was furious.

How dare she? Robin only did what was expected and for what? An empty, temporary marriage and a lonely future.

She could get revenge. Get power and fame on her own and a kingdom to show up that brat Snow White!

Robin sneered, that could work! She could strike Wonderland first, it was disconnected enough from the rest of the world, no one would notice until it was too late. Or maybe she could-

Robin heaved, emptying her stomach contents on the concrete. She had gotten too excited.

"Crap. Crap. What am I thinking?" Robin hissed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand while the other gently held her baby bump.

It was a small bump, barely showing, but it was a grounding reminder for Robin. It was so easy to lose herself to the role of Evil Queen and far safer than facing the future after her story. She felt so alone without the story now. All of her friends were just starting their stories while Robin had to start hers immediately out of High school. She was only 27.

Narrators beyond, she was 27 and expecting! And she had considered world domination? What was she thinking???

She hadn't been. In that moment Robin had been scared and alone so she turned to the safety of her role. But… what safety was there in evil? Embracing it would mean she could be truly imprisoned.

"Funny, how you reminded me I wasn't alone, and you don't even have a heart beat yet." Robin muttered to her belly. She had to be better. Better than Snow who wanted her dead or tortured, better than her mother who left her alone too young. Too focused on the Evil part of the Evil Queen.

Robin vowed to be better. A Better Mother and Better Person. Robin stamped her foot, eyes narrowing with determination.

"For you my Baby bird. For you I will face the world. I will be the best Mother for you…" Robin said pulling out a small slip of paper and racing to a nearby pay phone.

The small paper had a short list of numbers. Friends from school. The top of the list was Nana Breadhouse, she may be the Gingerbread House Witch, and specialized in candy houses, but Nana also had some connections.

The phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Nana. Its… its Robin."

"Robin?! Are you ok? I heard Snow's speech. Did she?!"

"She tried to arrest me but it didn't work. Nana I need a house Im… Nana I have a kid on the way. I wanted to- I…" Robin felt tears fall. "I almost became my Mom…"

"Oh SweetPlum. Where are you? Ill come get you. We can talk after." Nana said. Robin couldn't help but smile, Nana was the kindest woman.

"I'm in Bookend outside the Library. Ill wait here." Robin said. Her hand never left her little bump, she had to fight the urge to conquer and the little lump was helping.

"I'll be there faster than you can say Taffy, hang on love." Then Robin waited.

It only took ten minutes for Nana to arrive, her Bubblegum punk hair made her easy to see in the rainy gloom. Nana's Broomstick landed and the plump woman raced over embracing the soaked Robin tightly. Robin held her friend dearly.

"Oh Honey Tea, come on. Let's get you home and dry. You can tell me what your plan is after we got some food in you."

"You're the Fairest Nana." Robin hiccuped. Her tears hadn't stopped the entire time.

"Tell me that after you're dry and warm. Come on." Nana said, pulling Robin onto her broom. Robin leaned into Nana's back as they flew a comfortable silence filling the night air as they escaped the rain clouds and finally reached Nana's home.

Nana silently ushered Robin inside. Trapper the huntsman was seated by the fire, rocking Nana's 1 year old Ginger. The gruff man looked concerned as Robin was sat down by the fire.

Trapper gently placed the sleeping Ginger back in her crib and began to sign as Nana raced around.

"Are you ok? You look awful." He signed, Robin nodded weakly, shivering in her soaked clothes.

"Im… shaken. But ok, thank you Trap." Robin said, Trapper gave a soft smile and nodded. Only to sign some rather vicious things about their classmate Snow White. Robin shook her head. "Trap its… im not fighting back. I cant. I have a child on the way. I- I refuse to be my mother. Or worse."

"You don't have to do anything. But I could get Arthur and-" Trapper started signing only for Nana to bustle between the two and give Trapper a glare.

"No. You are not storming the castle Trapper. If you try You get no Daughter time for a month!" Nana scolded in a whisper. Trapper shook his head but signed in agreement.

"You both adore Ginger so much. I hope I'm as good to my baby Bird…" Robin muttered. Nana Gently pat Robin's hand.

"You will be darling. Trapper and I have our system. I'm not denying him his ability to be in his daughter's life. And you did the right thing walking away today." Nana said. "Now I have some clothes you can use, tomorrow we can get your stuff back- Robin? Sweet Plum whats-?"

"She burned my stuff." Robin muttered, tears falling anew as she hugged herself tightly. "Snow… She. She did more than try and arrest me. She destroyed all my things. I just did my part! I just did what they expected of me…"

Nana's eyes lit aflame, fury rolling off her like an oven.

"That, that, That witch! Disgusting. I knew Snow was Twisted but this? And she calls herself a Royal." Nana turned back to Robin, eyes softening. "We will get you new clothes and goods tomorrow. I have an extra plot of land nearby you can live on. We can design it tomorrow as well."

"Doctors appointments." Trapper signed. "We can come with you too."

"You guys are too good to me. How can I repay you?" Robin asked sniffling.

"How about you babysit some days for us? We can always use an extra hand with Ginger and it will be good practice." Nana offered.

"Deal."

The next day was strange. Replacing her missing clothes had been easy. Robin knew she needed maternity clothes and she wanted to move away from her old doom and gloom vibe. She wanted to be comfortable and to distance herself from the role of the Evil Queen.

Then she saw someone she never expected to see.

"Robin?"

"Arthur?!" Robin had turned to see her best friend. "Look at you! Your beard came in!"

Arthur laughed, rubbing his blonde hair.

"Yeah and I finally lost the tit scars too. What are you doing this close to Camalot?" He asked. The two walked down the various aisles grabbing what they needed.

"Oh well. I finished my story and I wanted a fresh start for me and the Baby Bird." Robin explained, Arthur sputtered.

"You're a Mom?!"

"Not yet. I'm expecting. I'm only about a month along." Robin explained giggling as Arthur started blushing. He loved kids, but never really did well with the idea of pregnancy.

"Oh wow! Uh well congrats!" Arthur said. "Uhm… you live nearby? If you do I'm sure Merlin and Giles wouldn't mind if you dropped by. Giles was really worried when news broke that your story started so early."

"That's sweet. I would love to visit. How are your Boys doing?" Robin asked.

"Oh well… they are doing well. Milkshake is still a jackass to Giles about our relationship. But well… I'm going to propose soon. " Robin gasped.

"Really?! Oh Arty that's wonderful!"

"Actually I was going to see if Nana knew where you were. I need your help to make it memorable." Arthur said, Robin smiled.

"Of course! You're my Best Friend Forever After. What were you thinking?" Robin asked. Arthur smiled and the two discussed proposal plans.

The next few months were a flurry of building, Reconnecting with friends and doctors. Robin had no time to stop and consider the ever disapearing urge to conquer the world. Instead it was replaced with eagerness to meet her future daughter.

Robin got to visit Arthur, Merlin and Giles again. Her life was filling up with friends again and she felt lighter than ever.

Then the sonogram appointment. As she had set it up her doctor had warned her, they would not allow anyone other than the father in with her. Robin was terrified.

"Birdy whatchya doing so down?" Merlin practically chirped as he picked her up to go for the Sonogram. Robin sighed sitting beside the mage and watching the countryside roll away.

"My doc warned me they won't let anyone but the father in with me…" Robin muttered. Merlin clicked their tongue

"Ain't old Good King in a Nursery Home, senile out of his mind? And-" Merlin paused. The Mage was an empath and didn't need any other powers to know why Robin sank into depression when the old king was mentioned. Merlin nodded silently.

"Fine. I'm the Dad now." Robin jolted up, turning to Merlin.

"What?! Do you honestly think they'll believe that?" Robin asked. Merlin smirked, tossing his scarf to the side.

"They don't have too. They aren't getting rid of me. Though I'm calling back up." Merlin cooed, casting a minor sending spell before Robin could stop him.

"Who'd you call?" Robin asked.

"The rest of the fathers!" Merlin said happily. He didn't say anymore until they arrived at the office and the two enter the waiting room. Robin was stressed, clutching her bulging stomach as Merlin went to check her in. She stood near the door, when-

"They let any old rabble in here don't they?" Robin tensed as the sniveling tones of Snow white met her ears. Robin turned. The new Queen was with her Prince, Fabian Charming and obviously expecting as well.

"Snow." Robin hissed.

"Queen. What are you doing here? I told them, not to accept your ilk." Snow sneered. "Or did you break in? I can arrest you for trespassing. Better yet I should have the guards toss you out. Maybe you'll get the mess- AIYYYYYYYYYY!"

Snow shrieked as her dress suddenly burst into Merlin's iconic Pink flames. Merlin sauntered up and slung an arm around Robin. She didn't realize she had been hyperventilating until then.

Fabian put out his wife and glared at the smirking Merlin.

"Oops, sorry I still miss fire when I get stressed ya know? And our girl is expecting our little bird, of course Im stressed." Merlin purred.

"Our?" Fabian muttered.

"Yes. Ours. Move Fabian." The Charming swung around to find Giles, Arthur and Trapper in the doorway. Arthur looked slightly mortified and Trapper looked ready for a fight. But it made Robin feel safer.

"What is the meaning of this?" Snow hissed, shaking off the ashes of the fire. "I know none of you are the father!"

"No we all are. Because we were asked to be." Giles said calmly as Arthur pushed over to Robin and held her close.

"No you weren't. Merlin decided." Robin muttered to Arthur who snorted.

"You didn't say no." Arthur retaliated earning a laugh from Robin as Snow tsked.

"What ever. Just Leave, I have an appointment here!"

"So do we." Merlin said as a nurse came up, nervously fiddling with her clipboard.

"Uhm, Ms. Queen? We are ready for you and uh… your child's fathers?" She seemed to ask if the four men were with her despite knowing the anwser. Snow went slack Jared as Robin left, surrounded by her friends.

The panic the run in caused vanished when she saw her daughter the first time. She cried so hard, her baby Bird was healthy and growing. And Robin forgot all about Snow White.

Then her new home had been built not 2 miles from Nana's own home. Robin could easily visit and watch Ginger, who was growing so fast.

Robin helped Arthur propose to his boyfriends. Merlin may have been a powerful mage. But Robin was the trickiest witch alive. She was able to make the moment Magical without Merlin catching on.

And of course they said yes. The three looked radiant at their wedding. Merlin opting for a ballgown as he preferred and Giles and Arthur for a suit and armor respectively. And Robin was Arthur's Best Witch.

Then suddenly Robin was giving birth, post ceremony. Nine months had gone by so fast. And before she knew it, Robin was holding her daughter in her Best Witch suit. She was so small and pale with a little silky tuft of black and Purple hair.

Raven Queen entered the world in Summer. Greeted by her mother and her friends.

#eah #Ever After High #ocs #so many ocs #Baby Bird AU

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fairytsuk1 · 4 years

Text

despite everything, it’s still you | (a)

character: tommyinnit

genre: angst

words: 1.8k

summary: tommyinnit is sent to the afterlife after being killed by dream, his experience as a broken soul in the afterlife is different than he'd imagined.

warnings: head injury at the beginning and it’s a bit graphically described! also depersonalization with the afterlife

notes: a bit different from my usual stuff but i had this idea and wanted to do it!

The last thing Tommy's present body feels is his brain practically leaking out of his ears. The force with which his head is knocked into the ground is too strong, and he instantly blacks out. Dream's fists collided into him much harder than he thought, and it was even harder to try to block each hit as he was instantly overpowered by the godlike man. He just couldn't seem to get away. His soul might have even been connected with Dream's at one point; how could someone live every day of their life and always go back to the one who caused so much pain? It's not a peaceful end; it's gory and sticky with blood splattered on the quickly growing pale skin. When Tommy opens his eyes, there's no Tubbo or blue sky; it's just white. The first thing he realizes is that he's not breathing, but he's not dying because of it. Because, well, he's already dead.

"Dream?..."

His thoughts are there, at least the most important ones. There are some of them that blur together, like watching a movie on fast-forward and not pausing. He couldn't remember his life so far up to his death, and the panic was setting in; what man didn't remember their own life? Was he even Tommy? A thump beats in his chest but looking down...there is no chest at all. In fact, there is no skin, bones, no solidifying figure that could tell him, "ah, I was a person." Tommy doesn't even want to think about what would happen if he didn't know his own name. Would he be lost to time forever?

"What the fuck is going on…?" his finger jabs at the translucent blob of a figure, he's still got limbs, but he looks like a bucket of slime rather than a fleshed-out human, "Hah! I'm like fuckin' Charlie Slimecicle…"

His humor hasn't left him, which warms his heart. Well, he supposes he has no heart as Tommy continues to poke and prod the gelatin-like substance he was hosting. It was weird seeing the ghostly shape of your own body, long legs, and big yet bony hands...it was freaky.

"This is just disgusting, actually. Fuckin' hell…"

He stands and tries to ignore the way he feels weightless; it's depersonalizing. Makes him nauseous to think of how he doesn't exist in the mortal realm, but instead, he's here in some sort of blank space.

"Wilbur!"

Walking, he realizes that he feels loose and lets out a laugh when he twists his body and finds it going farther than any human could. His ghostly capabilities were kinda cool! He had to focus though he needed to find a way to jump back down to Earth if he was dead. As much as he enjoyed being able to touch his toes and squat with his feet flat on the ground, the loneliness was starting to get to him. Though he didn't say anything out loud, being dead was starting to get a little scary. Of course, the lead-up wasn't nice, and he's glad to be pain-free (though he does jerk out of shock once he realizes his head is caved in). There's something about being alive that is just so...he misses it, that's all.

"Wilbur!...Schlatt??"

Tommy walks for a while with no changes to his atmosphere. For a moment, he thinks that he hasn't even been walking with the lack of environmental changes. That train of thought simmers to a stop as he spots a bench in the distant future, running towards it at lightning speed. There's no sound when he runs; his voice doesn't even echo. It's as though this afterlife has nothing in it at all. Like it's made of nothing. Like he's made of nothing. He relaxes into the bench and smiles widely; if only he had his favorite disks! It's like being with Tubbo again, like being kids again! The warm touch of affection kisses his cheek as warmth spreads through him. When can he go back? He's so ready to go back.

"You know, Tubbo, I hope you're not all focused on Ranboo to forget about me! I mean, I'm that one that, you know, died!"

Who is he speaking to? This afterlife is really getting to him, there is no Tubbo here, and there is no Mellohi. The smile fades as he glances around, white on white: white walls, floor, ceiling.

"Whoever the God here is, your heaven is shit."

He shouldn't have said that. The bench rumbles, and he's shocked to see it crumbling underneath him. Chips of wood fly into space, and he scrambles off of it, watching it decompose his very own eyes.

"Ah, ah, wait! I'm sorry, I'm really sorry! Give it back! Give me my damn bench back, you bitch!"

A bigger piece flies off and slices his hand, a glob of his fingers falling off and melting into the ground as he stands panicked. There's no blood, but it suddenly hits him. He isn't even human; this is all he has left. He's lucky to have his thoughts. That is his last tether to all he knows. If he lets himself be broken down, he'll never be human again. His time is limited. He has to find a way out.

His feet take off before he can even realize it, sprinting as he shouts for Sam, Tubbo, Wilbur, and even Phil.

But nobody came. No-one scooped him up and rescued him like they should've. He's only a child, for god's sake!

"What have I done to deserve any of this!? Let me go back! I want to go back!!"

His voice is shaky as he spins, decomposed and blocky trees forming around him like corroded pixels. He could cry, but he's holding it back; Dream instilled that in him. The less you care, the better the ending. The trees fall in shards, and each one that touches him breaks off a piece of him. He's practically melting as he runs through the rain of pixels, each one hell-bent on destroying his soul. Right now, he's no human. It's his soul in the purest form. His feet stick together before pulling apart, and he collapses onto the solid white ground. Everything jiggles, and he thinks he might pass out with the pure shock of taking in everything around him. His body ripples like water as he hears a faint and distant voice call for him.

"Tommy?"

A memory. "My first decree, as the President of L'Manberg, the EMPEROR, of this GREAT COUNTRY! IS TO REVOKE! THE CITIZENSHIP! OF WILBUR SOOT AND TOMMYINNIT! GET 'EM OUTTA HERE!"

Is that his savior? The one who's come for him? The one who caused his life hell in the first place? Well, maybe it was Wilbur who did that. Or Technoblade. Or even Dream, but Dream was his friend even though he struck him so hard he sobbed for someone to help him—

"Hey, Tommy! What the hell are you doing, kid? Where the fuck's your body?"

He's being hoisted up by his arms, and he pushes into Schlatt's chest as he cries and cries. The Ram hybrid grunts and mumbles something before pushing him back to hold his shoulders. He was never one for affection. When Schlatt looks at Tommy, he knows this is the book's doing. Dream, the current owner of the book, had done this all in preparation. The easiest way to bring someone back was to only let their pure soul transfer on, everything else remaining the same.

"It's easier than moving a whole body, right?"

"Whatever, just take the fucking book, man. I'm busy."

Tommy's damaged. He's deformed, and his soul is hot to the touch. He's in agony. He didn't know he could sleep till it was over or relax. He tried to fix things and find a solution like he always does. Now, he was broken like he always was.

"Schlatt I...how do I go back? I don't want to be here anymore! It's fucking shit! And, and it hurts! This isn't some heaven; it's fuckin' hell!"

Dream sat on the prison floor after arranging Tommy's body in a relaxed position, the book open in front of him.

"Time to come back, Tommy."

"Hey, hey! You listen to me! That fucker Dream, you have to be strong! He's messed you up, but this isn't the Tommy I know! You don't fucking cry, and you don't fucking get scared! You're the bravest kid I know!"

Tommy feels flashbacks come to him, slowly but surely. Him rowing to fight Dream, the bravery he had when he fought him one on one. The first disk war...he was so brave.

When he looks up at Schlatt, he sees the man he fought so hard against and won. He clocks in at that moment.

I used to be someone. Now, I'm just like everyone else. Scared and weak.

"You used to be someone, Tommy! You are someone! You just have...believe and know... you're stronger…!"

Schlatt gets all twisty and turny, his vision fading in and out as he feels himself being dragged away from his arms. For a second, Schlatt reaches out, seeing his son in a box. He retreats and opts to yell out as Tommy fights to regain himself. The strength is unrelenting as the young boy's head twists to see his arm pulled like taffy towards a glowing light. It's so pretty; he could almost just touch it and forget it all.

"You are stronger than anyone else, Tommyinnit!"

His head whips back, and he extends a jelly arm, his fight coming back to him.

"If you fucking lose yourself, you'll lose everything!"

"If I lose myself, I'll lose everything…" "You were made to beat this world, and don't you dare fucking forget it!"

It makes Schlatt grin as Tommy's widened eyes get pulled as he's compressed into a singularity. There's a sudden pop, and Schlatt's knocked back as the white walls envelop him. He wants to yell more, but Tommy's already back where he belongs. He's already gone.

"Tommy? Hey, Tommy!"

His cerulean eyes open like he'd just drank an energy drink, a smiling mask staring up at him. For a moment, he wants to shrink back into the floor.

"How was it? How was the afterlife?"

If I don't beat him, how could anyone else?

He snickers, "awful. I'm never going back there again."

Tommy feels determination settle in his soul. After everything, he's still him. If he loses himself, he'll never be able to bring it back. So, the only other option is to fight.

If I win, maybe then, I can know who I am.

#tommyinnit #tommyinnit fanfic #dreamwastaken #dream fanfic #jschlatt #jschlatt fanfic #dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #mcyt #mcyt fanfiction

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queen-erika-the-songful · 4 years

Text

Okay, here are my initial thoughts on Princess Adventure. These are in no way organized; they’re just as I can remember them. Feel free to send asks if you want

- Barbie defending Chelsea’s creativity and imagination is great to see. It’s one of the best parts of Dreamhouse Adventures so it’s nice to see them continue that in this film

- I like “Try It On” a lot more now. It’s not my favorite, and I think it’s one of the weaker songs in comparison to the rest of the soundtrack, but it’s honestly kind of a bop.

- “It’s like they don’t even want me in this movie!” LOL even Tammy herself knows she’s been done an absolute injustice.

- Holy crap Amelia’s plan is so freaking funny to me. She could’ve just, like...invited Barbie over to her kingdom since she’s the princess and was already a fan of Barbie’s vlogs anyway. But nah, she’s gotta have this whole convoluted ��cultural exchange” bullshit I just can’t

- Speaking of Amelia, it’s a little disappointing that we don’t spend nearly as much time with her as we do with Barbie, and, thus, we don’t get to see who the supposed “real” her really is. She says she finally got to explore things about herself, like her fears and dreams, but she never goes into details. Ironically, the audience never gets to see who the true Amelia is, we just have to go off what she said about “who [she] is does matter”. I mean, we certainly get glimpses of it (again, the convoluted plan - she’s obviously ‘act first think later’), but overall it’s not nearly enough, at least to me

- “(Not A) Picture Perfect Girl” might just be my favorite song from this movie. It honestly made me tear up a bit. We’ll see if that changes over my next rewatches

- The running gag with Trey mixing up Barbie and Amelia while Ted and Ned knew was a lot funnier than I expected it to be

- Trey is now trans and you can’t change my mind.

- I really appreciate “Somewhere New” a lot more now since seeing it in the movie. I love that the choreography starts on the plane. It was a cool choice that really felt like a “musical” thing to do. I also like that everyone got to sing at leaset a line or two on their own.

- WTF happened between Floravia and Johanistan? Did they have a war or something? Why are they being united into just a bigger Floravia? It sounds pretty fishy. I can understand why Johan is so upset based on what little information is given to us, so I wish they had gone into it a bit more.

- Johan asked “Amelia” (Barbie in disguise) if she remembered what they said they would do as rulers when they were kids. That never comes back and it really bothered me. What was the promise? That they’d rule together? That they’d treat each other’s kingdom equally? I actually thought at the coronation that Amelia would give the answer to that question (something like “Johan, remember what we told each other...”) and then do something like absolve the treaty so that she and Johan would rule their own respective kingdoms. l

- IDK, I think I would’ve just liked it more if Johan had been like Amelia’s brother/cousin/whatever that wanted to become King. He’d be a more boring villain that way but it would be less complicated than this.

- WE GOT REPRISES OF 2 SONGS BUT THEY AREN’T ON THE SOUNDTRACK?! I will NOT stand for that. As soon as the movie comes out on DVD I’m ripping those tracks out and adding them to my playlist

- I really thought Ken and Barbie were finally going to get together. I shall now accept my clown shoes and wig. I’m already applying the makeup now.

- The sequence for “Life in Color” disappointed me a bit. It’s one of my favorite songs on the soundtrack, but the placement in the movie felt like it came out of nowhere. I was really hoping for a nice, tender moment between Barbie and Amelia. Even if they were kept separated, it could’ve started with them video-chatting again. Maybe they’d talk about their personal struggles and then Barbie would stop the recording (”We don’t have to film this...”) and they’d just have a moment between themselves to talk.

- On the other hand, “King of the Kingdom” was such a good scene. It was very entertaining and I laughed a lot (which I had to hold back a lot since I was still at work). Also, those boys can move!!

- To make up for all of the interruptions and missed opportunities, Ken Carson deserves at least 3 episodes centered on him and his life and 1 where he finally tells Barbie how he feels

- TAFFY HAD NO REASON TO BE IN THIS MOVIE. I don’t care that Barbie almost always needs an animal sidekick. Snowy (Amelia’s bunny) fills that role. Taffy just gave everyone a freaking heart attack. Also, how the heck did she survive the plane ride? California to Floravia is a 10-hour flight so how did she stay unnoticed for so long?? ROBERTS FAMILY, GET SOME DAMN LEASHES!

- Speaking of that scene, I hate it. It ate up valuable time that could’ve been later spent developing the plot or Amelia’s character. It was only like 2 minutes but in a movie that is already pretty short (1hr11min) every second counts

- Can DA please finally drop the whole “Hey look Renee is claustrophobic” already? It’s repetitive as all hell and honestly it rubs me the wrong way how often it’s played for laughs. It works in the DA Halloween episode since it’s all about everyone facing their fears but everywhere else it feels like a cheap & undeserved laugh (it only happens twice in the movie I think but I wanted to mention it anyway)

- Morningstar being a little bitch to Barbie was hilarious. I don’t really like animal toys anymore but I’d totally buy her. (She’s part of a doll-horse set called Prance & Shimmer Horse. The Barbie doll has Amelia’s princess dress).

- “This is My Moment” really warmed my heart. The last shot with Amelia and Barbie smiling at each other reminded me a lot of Princess & the Popstar actually. I also really like how they brought back stuff from “Try It On” for Barbie’s verse. Musical finale numbers that bring back earlier motifs is something I just cannot get enough of.

- I liked Alfonso. Like Amelia said, he means well; he just didn’t put as much thought into what Ameila herself wants as he could have. But hey, he was learning just as much as they were

- I LOVED all of the stuff with Barbie trying to make it big and that bitch Rose Ross being all “This is what you have to do to make it sweetie :)” like that’s a great thing to show to kids. You can want to be famous and expand your content like Barbie wanted to, but you have to be smart about it, and you have to stay true to yourself. That plotline also mixed pretty well with Amelia’s life being formulated for the public too. I really did like all of that stuff about how media, social media especially, is constantly fabricated and edited to make things seem easier/better than they might be in real life.

- THEY FINALLY WENT BACK TO INDIVIDUAL END MORALS THANK GOD. I got really tired of seeing “This is our story, what’s yours?” after every Barbie movie, especially when every movie that used it wasn’t going for that message. Hell, that’s not even a lesson or anything, that’s just a random end quote.

- “Life doesn’t happen on camera. Life is what happens when the cameras are off” THAT IS SO GOOD AND RELEVANT I CAN’T EVEN!!!

#barbie spoilers #barbie movies #barbie: princess adventure #long post

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revasserium · 4 years

Note

Can I have 34 with Sugawara? thank you

hq!!reqs temporarily: closed ; all other reqs: open

send me a number a character and i’ll write you a drabble ;

34. insomnia: the owner’s instructions suga ; 1,659 words

a/n: suga, the type of stay up at night bc of an existential crisis.

the truth is – everything ends. it’s one of those fundamental, incontestable truths, a silver thread in the very fabric of reality, a cornerstone fact upon which the world was built, precarious and everlasting: everything ends. everything. and maybe it’s pointless to let the encroaching shadow of existential dread keep him up at night, but sugawara koushi is just that kind of person. he lies awake thinking about the probable heat death of the universe, and the fact that try as he might, nothing he does, nothing truly, really, actually means anything.

he flips onto his side, sighs, tugs his phone from beneath his pillow and flicks open the screen. the time glares at him – a jarring 4:33am. he groans and buries his face in his pillow.

shit.

and he has morning practice tomorrow.

double shit.

he peers at this phone again. 4:34am.

he opens up his messages and scrolls through his history with you, grinning at all the stupid memes you send each other. his eyes pause on your last message to him – night, love you. sleep tight.

he’d responded in kind, except exclusively with emojis that perhaps trailed into the questionable territory of being suggestive. but i mean. eggplants are perfectly innocent vegetables, aren’t they?

his fingers hover over the keys.

why the fuck not. she’s probably asleep anyway.

can’t sleep. miss you. wish u were here.

he hits send, and almost closes out the app when the signature three dots appear at the bottom of his scene and he freezes. why the hell are you awake?

it seems that you shared his sentiments rather exactly, as your message appears with a little bloop.

why the hell are you awake?

he crinkles his nose, fingers already flying.

said i couldn’t sleep. :( u never read my texts properly.

a moment later, his phone buzzes and he sees your caller id flare up over his screen. he grins, tapping the green answer button.

“i do too read your messages.”

he laughs, the sound just a tad strange in the echo of darkness.

“fine, fine, yeah you do. i was just teasing.”

“when are you not.”

“fair.”

quiet. the moonlight bleeds slivers between his curtains, the light slicing his room into bits – he raises a hand, staring at his bisected palm with a light frown.

“are you thinking about the end of the world again?”

your voice startles him, even across the line, he can hear the way you must be raising your eyebrows, that teasing smile he loves so much twisting your lips. you sound exasperated. and rightly so. he’s exasperated with himself too.

“may…be?”

“hm. figured.”

he lets his hand fall back onto the bed, rolls onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

“what do you think happens after we all die?”

he hears you shift in your bed as well, and a moment later, you sigh.

“the universe world keeps on spinning. nothing much changes.”

“right, but like… isn’t it weird to think that all this has existed before us, and it’ll continue to exist after? like. what are we, even?”

you laugh, the sound making his stomach flutter.

“cosmic fallout.”

“wow,” suga rolls his eyes before remembering you can’t see him. though he’s sure you can hear it in his voice. you’ve known each other for way too long. longer than he cares to try and remember. maybe that’s what it’s like to not worry – to trust something enough not to question it. to not have to question it.

“that’s not depressing at all.”

you hum, “well. it is. but it’s not like anything we can do will change that. so why lose sleep over it? it’s got no sway on how your life will be.”

“right, but it’s just… strange – isn’t it? like. how did we even end up here? with like… phones and computers and internet and – and relationships.”

you’re laughing again, and he closes his eyes. one of these days, he thinks he’ll tape it, the way you laugh, and maybe loop it so it can be the backing track to his entire existence. maybe that’ll give it some meaning, at least –

he wishes you were there. so he curls up onto his side again and cradles the phone to his ear.

“i miss you.”

“i know. i miss you too.”

“you should come over.”

“koushi. it’s 4am.”

“almost 5.”

“has anyone told you you’re terrible at convincing people to do things?”

and this time, he laughs, lets the sound shake through him like the first ray of daylight on a rising sun – warm and sharp and hopeful.

“once or twice.”

another silence. suga thinks he can almost hear the sound of the world turning, it’s so quiet. and then, your voice cuts through the invariable darkness.

“by accident.”

“huh?” he blinks, unsure of if the line cut off.

“that’s how we all ended up here, a massive, cosmic series of accidents. everything happened just so, all the stars that have ever lived or died – they all did it in just the way they had to for us to somehow end up here, and be able to hold hands and stay up late at night worrying about death and the end of all time.”

“one hell of an accident,” suga mumbles, crinkling his nose. a wave of tiredness washes over him. he wants to tell you to keep on talking. maybe he’ll record that too, just you talking about something, anything, everything. maybe that’s the cure to insomnia – just you and your voice, lulling him to sleep every night.

he wonders if that’s weird, and decides that well, he’s your boyfriend, he can be a little bit weird with this kinda stuff.

“still, pretty amazing right? all that happened so you could accidentally confess to me during homeroom.”

suga squawks.

“will you cease and desist? god – you’re just as bad as daichi and noya! they made fun of me for months – months! can you believe it? my own fucking teammates.”

your laughter washes over him, soothing his fraying nerves even as he huffs and tries to be angry with you. but it’s impossible – it’s been impossible for a long while now, and he wonders why he still tries.

maybe it’s because he’s so in love.

“but – whatever happens after we’re all gone,” you say, your voice soft and steady and full of a tenderness so striking it makes his chest squeeze, “at least we had this while we were here, right? at least by some strange conspiracy of the universe, we met each other. and – and fell in love. and… it doesn’t really matter if it doesn’t last forever. cause i’ll remember it happened. and you will too.”

you take a breath that sounds like the meeting of truth and tragedy, or perhaps the two finding out that they were always one and the same.

suga holds his own breath, forgets for a moment that he even has lungs.

“and… i think that’s enough. for me.”

he lets the breath go, his body curling into itself as he lets his eyes fall shut, his heartbeat thrumming to the sound of your breaths.

“wow,” he says again. though, it carries none of its former irony.

and, after a beat.

“you’re a sap.”

and this time, you’re the one sighing.

“i’m hanging up.”

“wait! not yet – c’mon, you know i didn’t mean it.” he’s laughing again. he does that a lot with you.

“fine, but only until you fall asleep.”

he smiles, a pleasant warmth already spreading through his limbs, making heavy his eyelids.

“i’m already getting sleepy.”

“good.”

quiet, once more. the moonlight falling across his room seems to spell out eternity, and it’s moments like this when suga wonders what it’d be like to live forever. not in the sense that he wants to live for a million years, but that he’d like to live in this moment for long than – well, this moment lasts.

he wants to stretch out the seconds like taffy between his fingers, relish in the sound of your voice, your laughter, in the smell of your hair after you’ve just washed it, the way you kiss him, on the lips, on the cheek, over his eyelids till they see in nothing but daydreams.

“hey,” he says, whispers into the phone like a secret.

“hm?” your voice answers back.

“i think i love you.”

you pause, and for a moment, just a moment, he thinks he can taste that unattainable forever. he wants to live inside that moment. for as long as he can.

“i think i love you too.”

and, even though they’re words you often say to each other, repeated so many times they might lose their meaning – there’s something about the time – the hours caught between morning and night, something about the foreverness of those precious few moments, that makes those words – that specific sequence of letters and sounds, mean so much more than they usually do.

suga realizes that this is also truth – a kind that he’s always neglected to think about. the truth of beginnings, and middles, and the eternities that live passed the endings.

because there are certain forevers that live outside the realm of time and space, forevers that are contained within their own special fragments of realities – his and yours, for instance.

and just for now, for this one moment – love is not an ever-ending thing.

and the truth is, no matter how dark and dreary the eventual end of the world might be, at least he had this. at least he met you. and at least, he’s known the taste of falling in love. and that’s something.

isn’t it?

–

taglist: @thewaterlily @dorkyama @undertheseabass @miyulovestowrite @writing-in-monotone @lceiji @vventure @writeiolite

(pls let me know if you’d like to be added to the list! or if you’d like to be removed! u__u)

#haikyuuwritersnet #sugawara koushi #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara x reader #haikyuu scenarios #floofy floof floof #haicuties #suga inspires a lot of very interesting writing for me #i just think he's such an interesting character #and my obvious bias is showing again oof #anyway its my first time doing a taglist! lmao idk if im doing it right but!#i think about this alot too but its not like existential DREAd to me #i think about it like -- well if nothing means anything might as well do what u want and live ur best life anyway #if none of it matters then YOU get to decide what matters and thats a vERY great power to have

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oneofyatosfollowers · 4 years

Text

Yatori Week Day 5- Memory/Cooking

@yatoriweek2020

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25401826/chapters/61827550

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13648502/1/Yatori-Week-2020

Tucked away in the mountains, curling along a large lake, was a quiet town called Takamagahara. It was the home of Hiyori's grandmother, the place she settled down after she met her grandfather. Once her mother went to college and met her father, they lived in the city where Hiyori was born and raised. Still, Takamagahara had a certain charm that had Hiyori's mother coming back every summer, something Hiyori kept into her young adulthood.

The roads were small as Hiyori drove to her family's home, they wouldn't be arriving for another week so Hiyori would be meeting up with her childhood friends. Driving through town, Hiyori smiled at the familiar buildings, remembering how often she walked down the streets with her grandmother. Just before turning down her street, Hiyori eyed a small ally. One of her foggiest, happiest memories was somewhere down that alley.

A chocolate shop turned bakery, where her grandmother used to buy her the best chocolate capybara-pops. The shop used to be just a confectionery store, specializing in chocolates and other candies, but shortly after her grandma passed the chocolate store was replaced with a bakery. The pastries were still delicious, but Hiyori still mourned the loss of a sweets shop.

Not in the mood to unpack, Hiyori dropped her stuff off and took the nice walk into town. She waved to a couple of familiar faces, greeting some new ones. The town was alive, wrapping up the end of fishing season and still starting the school year. Counting her money, Hiyori thought about getting some food.

"Hiyori!" A young woman greeted with a squeal. Her curly pink hair flounced as she trotted around the corner, running straight into Hiyori's open arms. They giggled and asked each other about everything that happened within the last year.

"I missed you, Kofuku!" Hiyori said honestly.

"We missed you too, Hiyori! Come in, come in! Daikoku knows your favorite, we can chat while he makes it!" Kofuku gestured to the cook in question, who waved happily to Hiyori. Kofuku was raised here and Daikoku was a fisherman she met during their time in highschool. He was a gruff, burly man that couldn't stand being at sea and away from his lover. Hiyori gasped when Kofuku showed her a rather large rock on her ring finger, the diamond glistening a soft pink on a rose-gold band.

"Engaged! Kofuku I'm so happy for you!" Hiyori cooed. They giggled with their heads bent, glancing at the man in the kitchen with headphones on.

"Thank you, I- we are very happy too," Kofuku beamed, "It's finally happening! And of course you'll be one of my bride's maids, right?"

"Oh Kofuku, I'd love too! When are you planning on having it?"

"Next summer. So you'll need to at least get a date by then! Of course, getting your own ring isn't too bad either," Kofuku wiggled her eyebrows at Hiyori who sputtered. Daikoku sighed at his fiance as he set the bowls of ramen down.

"Hiyori, don't get engaged to someone you've only dated a year." He said.

"I-I won't! I would never-!" Hiyori pouted when she realised the couple was just teasing her, on the same page as always. The women thanked Daikoku and dug into her meal.

"But for real, Hiyori," Kofuku said around her noodles, "there isn't anybody you can bring to the wedding? No one comes to mind?"

"No, no one." Hiyori sighed, truthfully, "and getting engaged is about as likely as that old chocolate store coming back."

"Hmm, maybe not that old one. But a new one moved in and took over the bakery!" Kofuku shrugged.

"Really?" Hiyori perked up. Of course there was no way the chocolates were the same as before, but she still loved the idea. Kofuku grew a teasing smirk and her eyes gleamed at Hiyori.

"Yeah! We can go check it out after Daikoku closes the shop! We know the owner and he lets us in after closing time for desert. We also invite him and his son over for dinner most nights, they're really sweet!" Kofuku giggled, it was clear why she suddenly got excited.

"He has a son?" Hiyori pointed out.

"A single father," Kofuku wiped an imaginary tear, "He adopted the kid but still, he's such a good dad." She grinned again and Hiyori sighed.

"Well how old is he?" Hiyori threw Kofuku a bone.

"He's our age!" Kofuku gratefully took it, "Just a couple years older! And his son is 14!" She tacked on. Hiyori laughed slightly as she took a drink, looking up when Daikoku came over to collect their dishes.

"Kofuku stop trying to set up good-hearted Hiyori with that weirdo," Daikoku chided. Hiyori gasped and looked at her friend in offense while Kofuku whined at her fiance.

"He's not a weirdo, Daikoku! Don't say that!" Kofuku turned to Hiyori, "He really is very nice, Daikoku just can't understand how he thinks! He's the one who will carter the desserts for our wedding!"

"How he thinks?" Hiyori repeated, doubtful. She looked to Daikoku for a more realistic description of whoever Kofuku was going to shove her with.

"He's an artist," Daikoku griped, "has a very eccentric personality. He's got a lot of energy and likes to come up with these wild, out-of-the-box schemes that end up blowing up in his face."

"Sometime literally!" Kofuku chimed.

"I see," Hiyori sighed. She looked as Kofuku stretched across the table and reached for her, a smile on her face.

"But seriously, he's awkward but still kind once you get to know him. He just really likes his job! He's literally a kid in a candy store!"

"Ha, yeah, and that kid is the owner." Daikoku scoffed at the thought, earning a laugh from the girls. Finishing up lunch, Hiyori walked out the door with a wave over her shoulder. A block down the cobble-stone steps and a harsh wind blew through her hair and ruffled her dress.

A scent wafted up across her nose, sweet and tangy. Before she could even label it, a memory burst through her senses. Black and white tile floors with glass containers filled with little chocolate squares and pops. Her grandmother in a white kimono, unwrapping a capybara pop and handing it down to little Hiyori. The smell reminded her of the taste that bloomed across her tongue as they walked through the jiggling doorway to the old chocolate shop.

Hioyori snapped out of it when the wind stopped, hardly a second later, the memory fading with it. Emotion clenched around her heart as Hiyori readied her purse and turned towards the street. The ally was just across the street, a bit further away from her home. She waved to the car that let her cross, speed walking across the pavement and down the sidewalk. There were a couple new stores, but everything was pretty much the same. Since the bakery moved in, Hiyori hasn't been down this alley, but it was still as narrow and uneven as she remembered. Only two stores occupied the ends of the small road, the other end a parking lot for the shoppers. To the right was a bathing suit and water-sport store, and the left was the chocolate store.

Hiyori slowed down as she approached it, breathing heavily as the scent consumed her senses. She walked in casually, drinking in the new interior and relating it to the old. All the white glass containers still lined the walls and counter, stretching high with candy of all colors. In the past, the walls had been a chocolate color, but this time the walls were blue. The floors were also re-done from checkered tiles to hardwood. What surprised her the most was that there was a small section of candies like lollipops and taffy, and a little cooler of ice cream.

"One second please! I'll be with you in a moment!" A young voice jolted her out of her staring. Embarrassed, Hiyori looked around to find the person, maybe the crazy owner her friends told her about? There was a counter directly in front of her, it was clear the kitchen was behind it and there was someone bustling around there. Walking towards it, Hiyori was distracted by another noise to her right.

There was another body behind the ice cream counter, heaving out empty ice cream containers and lifting new ones. The first thing she noticed was a head of fluffy blonde hair under a 50s waiter hat, bent over in the cooler. With a sigh, he pushed himself out and slammed the glass covering closed. Hiyori made her way towards him, noticing that the boy was young. She wouldn't be surprised if this was the son of the owner, but he looked a little younger than 14. Especially when their eyes met, his face was still rounded out by some baby fat and his hazel eyes were large.

"Can I help you?" The kid asked as Hiyori came closer. It caused Hiyori to pause and she realised she didn't know what she wanted, or why she came here.

"Hi, um, I'm- a- friend of Kofuku and Daikoku? I just thought I'd stop in and say hi." Hiyori explained.

"Oh! Well, uh, it's nice to meet you. My name's Yukine," he quickly wiped his hands and came around the counter. Hiyori smiled and took the hand he offered. He wore a light blue shirt that matched the lines of his hat and a long white apron that matched his pants.

"It's nice to meet you too. I come here every summer and usually spend nights at Kofuku's so we'll be seeing a lot of each other for a while." She smiled at Yukine who only blushed and nodded. He looked around for something to say then perked up.

"Um, one second," Yukine smiled politely at her before turning towards the kitchen, "Yato! Get your butt out here, one of Kofuku's friends showed up!" He cupped his hands around his mouth as he hollard, causing Hiyori to flinch. She forced another smile when Yukine whipped around and flashed her an adorable grin that she couldn't help but feel was fake.

"I'm busy! Just bring 'em back here!" Another voice shouted back. It caused the kid to sigh and wave his hand at Hiyori.

"Here, follow me." Yukine said as she followed him, "he's working on a really big online order and it's difficult to pull him away from projects. I have a hard enough time getting him to Kofuku's to eat." The kid muttered and Hiyori thought it was adorable that this child was the caretaker for his caretaker.

The back of the store was tiny, crowded by large ovens and machines, surrounding a long metal table. Hiyori gasped at the monstrosity at the end of the table was a tall chocolate-something. It looked like an abstract flower, ribbons of chocolate stretching up towards the sky, curling around each other and sporting different swirls of colors. Next to it, a young man in a floppy chef's hat was carefully cutting a strip of chocolate from a large slate.

"Hey Kiddo!" Yato looked up with a smile. His face was smeared with chocolate as well as his white t-shirt, and Hiyori had to admit his face was also really cute.

"Hello," Hiyori greeted, "my name is Hiyori Iki." She grimaced when the man grinned and wiped his hands on a dirty rag before running around the counter, shimming past a large stone oven.

"The name's Yato! You're the one Kofuku said comes around every year, right?"

"Yes, that's me," Hiyori blushed at the thought of Kofuku talking about her to total strangers. She shook his hand when he offered it, feeling it was slick with sweat and confection. The ovens made it rather hot in here.

"Nice to meet ya!" Yato wrapped an arm around Yukine's shoulders and pulled him in close, "We just moved to the area right at the end of last summer so we're really new to the area. Hope you'll take good care of us!" He beamed another dazzling smile at her and Hiyori didn't have the heart to tell him she wasn't really a local. Kid in a candy store indeed. Speaking of kid, Yukine looked disgusted at the contact and pushed Yato's arm off him.

"She said she eats dinner with Kofuku too so we'll see her later," Yukine said.

"Oh that's good. Daikoku's cooking really is the best!" Yato nodded like he was agreeing with himself. A timer going off distracted him and he hustled to a taffy machine, shutting it off.

"Yukine, treat her to something would ya?" Yato looked up at Hiyori, "Whatever you want, okay?" He winked like he didn't just offer up his kid's money, though Hiyori supposed this is where Yukine got it from.

"Actually, I came here because I smelled some chocolate?" Hiyori drifted off when she heard how obvious that sounded, "I mean like some fresh chocolate?" Her face burned when the boys just stared at her, then Yato looked around.

"Well I did just pour out some molds and put them in the freezer. Was there something specific you had in mind?

"Well, there used to be a chocolate shop here when I was little and my grandma used to get me these chocolate pops. I recognized the smell so I wanted to come here to see if it was the same." The longer she talked the harder it was to look at them. Even though Yato was listening, Yukine was starting to give her a funny look. She clutched at her dress as her blush spread to her ears, maybe she should make an excuse to leave and skip dinner with Kofuku.

"So basically, you want to try my chocolate to see if it's the same as the one your grandma used to buy for you?" Yato cocked his head.

"Yes! That's right!" Hiyori was happy he understood and she wasn't weird. She smiled when Yato grinned at her.

"And what do I get if mines better?" he asked. Hiyori let out a straggled noise at the realization he was teasing her. Her heart pounded and Hiyori noticed just how blue his eyes really were. Their moment was broken when Yukine walked over to Yato and elbowed him in the ribs.

"Just let her try one," Yukine huffed. Yato yelped and rubbed his side, glaring at the kid.

"Why not let her try one of yours?" Yato's smile was back on when the kid blushed and refused.

"You make chocolates too, Yukine?" Hiyori tried to distract them from their play-fighting. She had doubts earlier but they really were like a family. Yato snickered at him and sent a wink to Hiyori before making his way to the fridge.

"Uh, sometimes. I mostly make hard candy? I'm still learning and all," Yukine toed the ground, refusing to look at her. Hiyori giggled at his bashful expression.

"You're too modest, Yukine," she offered. Yato laughed from inside the metal refrigerator, peaking over his shoulder.

"You got that right! The kid's a fast learner and makes the best rock candy! I'm very proud of my little prodigy!" Yato smiled at his kid then stuck his face back into the fridge. Hiyori giggled at the blush Yukine wore.

"I'd love to try something of yours too," Hiyori asked.

"Yeah. Maybe." Yukine muttered at the ground. They turned back to the chef when Yato made a noise of urika.

"I found them!" Yato pulled out a large metal tray, letting it hang from its spot in the holders, "Which shape do you want? I made a ton: we got hearts, swords, cats?"

"-Um," Hiyori piped in, "Do you have a capybara?" It was embarrassing to say, but she came this far so she might as well go all the way. She missed the way Yato's body froze.

"Oh no," Yukine groaned. Before Hiyori could question his words, Yato came barreling towards her, stumbling over his feet and knocking into basically everything. Bracing herself, Hiyori prepared for the chef to knock her off her feet, only for him to simply grab both her hands and shake them up and down.

"You truly are a woman of great taste, Hiyori! I knew from the moment you walked in here you were something special, you got a good eye! The kid doesn't understand the true majesty of the capybaras- he's the one who makes me design chocolates in other shapes- which is such a shame! I would make all my chocolates into capybaras if I could! It would make them that much sweeter-oof!" Yato choked off when Yukine whacked him again and smushed his hands in Yato's face.

"-Would you shut it about the capybaras! Not everyone has an obsession like you do!" Yukine caterwauled. He then marched over to the fridge and pulled a stick off the parchment paper and brought it to Hiyori.

"Thank you," Hiyori smiled.

"It's on him," Yukine huffed. Yato whined while Hiyori took a look at the treat. Her memories came flooding back to her again, the wizard-capybara mold the same as when she was a child. The room went quiet as she took a bite of the ear and let it melt on her tongue.

It was amazing, the flavor was everything chocolate was imagined to be. The sweetness was there, mingled into the natural bitterness of the chocolate, in a way that put all mass produced sweetness to shame. It even lacked the heavy stickiness of other chocolates, easily gliding down her throat like cream. She could tell it was homemade with the skill of a professional.

Still, it didn't spark a single memory from her childhood. There was no nostalgia, Yato's chocolate was too unique to even come close to the one the old shop used to make. Despite how delicious it was, Hiyori couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"You don't like it," Yato spoke. Hiyori's head whipped up when she processed his tone. It was scary, he didn't sound angry by any means, just equally-if not more- disappointed. He didn't look upset either, Yato's face was impassive as he let the question hang.

"I like it!" Hiyori quickly insisted, "I love it, in fact! It's really delicious! You even used the same mold from before!" Her hands waved back and forth as she tried to reassure the chef. Snapping out of it, Yukine came between them.

"It's fine, really! This guy just takes his craft way too seriously," Yukine patted Yato's chest with an awkward laugh.

"What was wrong with it!" Yato stepped forward, "I mean what was different? How can I change it to fit your tastes?" His rapid questions were serious and he was carefully gauging her reaction. It was clear as day she was no chocolate connoisseur, but Yato was ready to take in her feedback carefully.

"It was, um," Hiyori swallowed under his piercing gaze but took in his answers seriously, "I remember it being sweeter. The chocolate was also a lighter and it wasn't shiny." She tried to think of anything else but it was so long ago and Hiyori was clearly no expert. Still, Yato took her words into consideration, humming in thought. He took another step closer and Hiyori's heartbeat suddenly picked up the pace. The man really was attractive and he smelled like sweet cream.

"That makes sense. More sugar and no tempering," Yato mumbled to himself. Hiyori's lips fell open in a silent gasp when Yato placed his hand on top of hers, bringing the chocolate up to his mouth and taking a large bite.

Heat spread through her body as Hiyori couldn't help but watch his lips move around as he tasted, eyes looking down in distant concentration. His hand was warm on top of hers and his fingers were sticky and calloused from sculpting works of art out of candy. Yato hummed again, almost like a moan, and he smiled at her. The action brightened his eyes further and stopped Hiyori's breathing.

"Okay! I think I got it. I can do it no problem," Yato's hand slipped from hers, "How long you here for?" His words brought Hiyori back down to Earth and she sputtered from self-embarrassment.

"Two-two weeks," Hiyori spluttered.

"That's perfect! I'll have a new batch for you to try by next week!" Yato seemed ecstatic at the idea of making even more chocolate, waving to Yukine to write everything down on an order form.

"You idiot! Don't just- you can't just take a bite of someone else's food! She's a- customer," Yukine said with a bright red face. Hiyori silently thanked him for addressing the issue without actually saying it.

"Ah, it's fine she can have another one. There're other capybara molds and I'm not against the extra cash," Yato waved the two flushed people and went back to his statue.

"Hmph. It's on the house," Yukine huffed and snatched another pop off the rack. He didn't get a response, Yato was already immersed in his project. Hiyori took it numbly, she watched Yato's hand guide the small knife through the slab with calculated precision.

"Make sure you walk Hiyori home, or back to Kofuku's or wherever. Bring your phone." Yato muttered down at the chocolate. Next to her, Yukine tsked and looked up at an analogue clock.

"You got three hours till Daikoku makes dinner. I'll come and get you, so be ready," Yukine interrupted Yato's rebuttal, "you're going." He smirked to himself when Yato grumbled but didn't say anything. Hiyori giggled too, she found herself looking forward to dinner.

Daikoku wasn't kidding when he said Yato was eccentric; the chocolatier was a hard-working whirlwind of sweets and art. It was clear he loved his job, and his kid, and he was very vocal about his crazy thoughts and ideas. Originally, Hiyori planned on bringing some work to the beach while she relaxed until her parents arrived, but she quickly found herself in the chocolate shop with the two boys. It started when she walked down to the beach to find Yato doing laps, Yukine already lounging in her favorite spot. They invited her to breakfast, her treat, then offered her more chocolate in return. She became Yato's honorary taste-tester and even gotta try some of Yukine's food.

The types of jobs and people that walked in and out of Yato's shop were interesting to see. They each had different combinations of tastes and visions, Yato more than up to the challenge to meet their wants. Which he always did, perfectly. The more the days ticked by, the more excited Hiyori got for what Yato would make for her. All the chocolates she tried were amazing and she almost didn't care to remember the old chocolate.

So she spent every day in the candy store and every night at Kofuku's. Within that time, they've definitely gotten closer. Kofuku and Yato got much more touchy feely when intoxicated; their lips looser. Hiyori heard the story of Yato feeding Yukine hand-made treats while he stayed away from home, eventually being led into his apartment like a toddler to a van. That was over a year ago, once the adoption was done, and Yato saved up enough money, they packed up and moved out here. He did call Yato 'dad' on occasion, thought usually it was saved for extreme emotion. Hiyori had only heard it when Yato completed a massive project, and again when the oven exploded with the chef next to it.

And now, it was the twelfth day since their meeting. After they had lunch, Yato announced that her chocolate was just about finished and that she could come taste it after dinner. Yukine was off with some friends for the night so it would just be the two of them. The thought made her giddy, Yato was a lot of fun to be around and it wasn't just because he gave her tasty chocolate.

She pushed open the door and walked in like she was the chef. The shop's lights were off, save for the ones in the containers and the kitchen. The bell above the door rang again as it shut behind her and there was some clattering in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry we're closed," Yato stumbled through the doorway with a bowl tucked into his elbow, "Hiyori!" He grinned when he noticed her, causing a big smile to stretch across her face too. She followed him into the kitchen, looking at the table for the next big sculpture only to see it have a single metal tray intended with molds of capybaras.

"Your chocolate is in the fridge already and should be ready to try soon! Do you mind pouring the rest while I clean? Yukine will have my head if he comes home to a messy kitchen." Yato was already handing her Yukine's apron and the bowl.

"Oh, I can clean if you need," Hiyori tried.

"Nah, I'm pretty quick at cleaning and you still don't know where everything goes," Yato pushed the bowl in her hands with a wink. She made her way to the grey pan, awkwardly picking up the spatula Yato gestured at. He got to work in a large sink, bustling around the kitchen like he did during rush hour. Hiyori looked back down at the bowl, the smell wafting from it already bringing her grandmother's kimono to mind.

She got to work pouring in the molds, the chocolate sliding out quickly and splattering over the sides. After about three modes of uneven pouring, Hiyori got smart enough to use the spatula to help lessen the flow. Something she saw Yato and Yukine do on occasion. Somewhere behind her, Yato put away the final bowl and closed the cabinets with a sigh. She felt him move somewhere, but it wasn't until he spoke that she realised how close he was.

"Hang on," Yato spoke next to her ear, "use the spatula to wipe the drips when you start a new one. It keeps them neat and won't waste as much." His hands fell on top of hers again, body lightly pressing against her back as his jaw brushed against her head.

"O-oh," Hiyori tensed up when Yato's hands actually guided her own through the motions but she hesitantly leaned back. Yato's chest was solid as she pressed against him, the sweet smell that followed him everywhere overriding her other senses and making her forget all about the old chocolate in her hands. He was so warm, her heart pounded against her chest, making it difficult to breath. Instead she forced intensely on the movements, working to clench and unclench her fingers when needed.

"It looks good," he breathed, "see if you spread it up and down like this, it comes out much more even. Up and down, up and down, see you got it." Yato let his hands go when Hiyori hummed and she worried for a moment he would leave. Instead his arms fell and wrapped lightly around her waist, hardly bringing her any closer.

"Is this alright? You can say no and hit me like you usually do, I'll still give you chocolate," Yato asked. Hiyori giggled at him, moving onto the next mold. She felt him press a smile to her shoulder while watching her work. Hiyori looked good making chocolate, here with him, like she completed the picture.

"No, this is fine." She hummed. It was relaxing to work, the movement very easy and repetitive. The room was warm and Yato's body was warmer, the room quiet and sweet-smelling. It felt like home.

Soon Hiyori was done with all the molds and she quietly set the empty bowl dow, along with the spatula. They stood like that for a little while, the seconds ticking on the clock seeming to have hours in between. Neither of them said anything, Hiyori letting her head rest against his as Yato leaned heavily on her. If it wasn't for his hammering heart, Hiyori would have thought he fell asleep. She moved to put her arms over his, stopping when she noticed the amount of chocolate covering her hands. The moment was shot when Yato's hand grabbed hers before she could reach her mouth.

"No! That will ruin the surprise!" Yato un-coiled himself from her and happily scampered to the refrigerator. Hiyori sighed in amusement and disappointment, but excitement still bubbled in her chest. She already knew Yato was an amazing chocolatier- she would even say his creations are her favorite- but if he managed to capture the tastes of her childhood Hiyori would truly be blown away.

Hiyori noticed Yato's posture suddenly shift, his normally boisterous attitude became unsure. A chocolate pop was pulled off the parchment paper and hidden quickly behind his back, then Yato mosied up to Hiyori with forced casualness. She swallowed when she took in his red cheeks and the way he couldn't quite meet her eyes. The chocolate pop was hidden behind his back.

"So, um, I did some research and the old chocolate shop that was here was more of a candy store that bought and sold other brands. But you said that the guy made the chocolates- and there was some candy makers left- but if I had to guess it was more of a side thing?" Yato coughed, "a-anyway, I think the chocolate you liked was the amature type people make at home."

"Uh-huh," Hiyori smiled at his rambling, "that makes sense." She watched Yato shift awkwardly in one place before pitying him and taking a step forward. Open palm held out, Yato looked at her for a moment before pushing the candy in her hand. He didn't look at her reaction, only shrinking in on himself when he heard her small gasp of surprise.

The chocolate pop Yato gave her was not in the shape of a capybara, but rather in the shape of a heart. A medium sized, extremely detailed heart with tiny hearts lining the edges had the words "thank you for your help" in fancy calligraphy. Hiyori's own heart squeezed so tight it made her light-headed. She felt her whole body re-heat even hotter than before as a feeling sweeter than Yato's chocolate lifted her lips into a wide smile.

"I love it," Hiyori breathed, showing her glee to Yato who immediately beamed.

"Try it! Let me know if it suits your tastes." Yato watched her lips closely as they took in the treat. Hiyori made a noise of surprise, then a moan. Yato perked up but quickly panicked when he saw her eyes water.

"Ah-! Hiyori is it-? What is it?"

"It's perfect," Hiyori quickly wiped a tear and laughed at herself, "this is exactly what my grandmother used to buy for me when I visited. Thank you, Yato." She smiled wide at him as he worked to calm down. Gaps of her memory were filled and bloomed with detail. Hiyori remembered the interior of the old shop, the dress she wore, and the feel of her grandmother's hand. This chocolate was straight out of her mind and with it childhood happiness.

"I'm really happy you like it," Yato confessed. A couple steps and Hiyori was pulling him into a hug, Yato tensed as she squeezed her arms around his neck then relaxed and returned it. She pulled away, but just barely. Just to look into his eyes.

"You mind if I have a taste?" Yato asked. Hiyori snorted at his gluttonous habits and held out her pop for him to bite. With a grin his hand wrapped around hers and pushed the candy down. Surprise crossed Hiyori's face for a moment as he leaned in and waited, but she met him in the middle.

He smelled just as sweet as always but he tasted even more so. As their lips moved together, Yato pulled her in a bit tighter. Hiyori let her hand slide up his neck and rest on his cheek, her fingers brushing the bangs that escaped his ponytail. She let Yato lick his way into her mouth with the skills of a professional taster, squeaking when he kissed her senseless. They pulled apart, breathless, and let their foreheads rest against each other.

"So listen, um," Yato spoke over the candy, "I know you're leaving in a couple more days but I'd really like to take you out sometime?" His nervousness was back but he held her wide-eyes much better this time.

"I'd like that." Hiyori smiled. They beamed at each other like idiots before sharing more pecks, Yato letting the chocolate pop melt in his hands while Hiyori worked to make new memories.

#noragami #noragami fanfic #noragami fanfiction #noragami yato #noragami yukine #yato #yatori #hiyori #Hiyori Iki #iki hiyori #yatori week #yatori week 2020

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sabraeal · 4 years

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All That Remains, Chapter 5: The Flower Garden of the Woman Who Could Conjure [Part 2]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Written for @claudeng80‘s birthday, and only....a few weeks late! Had this thing not become a BEAST it would have arrived on time but...who doesn’t want a 9K birthday gift?

Perhaps it is lies that make men human.

Ah, you shake your head-- surely not, for man is more than vice, more than our venal sins--

But it is stories that bind us, is it not? Tales that start as words between friends, that then are pulled as taffy in the teeth of those that tell them, that become exaggerated, distended in their telling.

If at the kernel of every story is a truth, then it is one that is surrounded by lies.

Or perhaps that is only what liars tell themselves when they must live with what they’ve done.

Why would you leave Wistal for Lilias?

It was the first question any of them asked-- unless her reputation had preceded her, and then the conversation would shift sharply to Garack and her apprenticeship, to whether all the rumors they had heard about Wistal’s Head Pharmacist were true.

(They had only been disappointed when she didn’t know; she’d hardly been there a year, and though she’d studied closely under her, Garack hadn’t seen fit set aside a lesson to rifle through the rumor mill’s latest)

It’s cold here, Suzu had reminded her that first trip, as if she could forget with how both her heaviest cloak and double stockings that still could not keep out the chill. At least then she’d had a mission she could speak of, an excuse she could throw up a shield against more unwanted questions. After all, all of them abhorred missing data.

It had been harder the second time, when the whole of this golden opportunity had seemed stained with Izana’s touch, had seemed tainted by his test. She’d been lucky those first few days; they’d been less interested in her answer, and more interested in issuing their dire warnings. It gets colder than this, Kazaha had told her, puffed up with his own importance, colder than you’ve ever known.

Then Obi had arrived, coming in with the snow, as he’d told everyone that would listen, and well-- as interesting as Garack Gazalt’s red head assistant was, her mysterious attendant was even more so. At least, for a while, and then they were just another part of Lilias, another pair of heads over a sea of furs.

Still, you must miss it, Yuzuri would say, wistful, it’s so warm there.

I miss the mornings, she had said once, tucked between her and Ryuu at the commissary. Birds would sing me awake.

Too early, Obi had scoffed, wrinkling his nose. They see the sun and go crazy.

Just early enough. The corner of her mouth curved as she met his grin. You just get to bed too late.

Talk to my mistress about that. It’s too much to look at him sometimes when he teases like that, when he pretends it isn’t her that he’s talking about. She’s the one who likes to burn candles at both ends.

Stories are apt to praise the little girls who walk them as kind, as obedient, perhaps even clever should they outwit a sufficiently evil witch or an especially corrupt king. But this little girl-- kind as she was, clever as she was-- was dogged, was stubborn.

Ah, how rare such a thing is, at least in stories. It is a detail to be left out in the telling, to be lost to the years, to be replaced with a kindly figure that gives her wisdom, but now--

Now the tale is fresh, heavy with the truth, and you may know: even with assurances from the adults around her, the little girl did not take the boy’s disappearance lying down, oh no.

She would not suffer losing her home.

Even though it is the birds that wake her, it does nothing for the bleak knot in her belly, only grown tighter as she’s slept. Or rather, as she didn’t; her mattress may be feathers and her sheets may be silk, but neither were any help as she lay there, finding faces in her canopy.

Still, the morning will not wait, not even for a princess. Her hours are full, from sunrise to moonrise, and on most nights, beyond. If she means to keep pace with her promises, she has to start early.

A woman of proper standing would have a maid to dress her-- no, a woman meant to be Zen’s wife would have a team of them to do her entire toilette, but Shirayuki has only herself. A pharmacist’s purse was nothing to sneeze at, but it didn’t pay the way an estate would, and even if she could afford the expense--

Well, Kiki dressed herself. There was no reason she couldn’t either, not when she was already in the practice of it.

“I’m not wearing court dress,” Kiki reminds her, mouth canted kindly, when she sees the state of her morning gown, hook and eyes flapping open like a wound down her back. “They aren’t meant to be put on alone.”

“That’s what Haruka said, too,” Shirayuki murmurs, hands braced on her vanity.

In the mirror, Kiki’s brows raise. “You had Marquis Haruka talk to you about your toilette?”

“Against his will,” she assures her, breathless, before she realizes what that sounds like. “I mean, not that I-- he was berating me--”

Kiki holds up a hand, lips quivering. “I can picture the scene.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks heat, glowing pink in the glass. “Of course.”

“I’m nearly done.” Her fingers are nearly as deft as Obi’s, making quick work of the horde of hooks. “Since I’m back here, is there something I could put in your hair?”

“Oh! If you don’t mind.” Shirayuki reaches out to where she keeps her clips, flipping open the chest, and--

And they lay next to each other, stark against the pale velvet: her hairpins. The ones Obi had given her. Her hand shakes as she brushes against the carved flowers of one, against the smooth tassel of the other. She has a box of combs as well, bought on her travels under Obi’s urging, and--

“Is there any news?” She wishes she could sound brighter, less worried, but--

You don’t know anything about me, Miss.

--but despite all Zen’s assurances, this knot in her gut only sinks further, heavier with each passing hour.

Kiki hisses, fingers slipping on a clasp. “No,” she says finally, hooking it with a violent jerk. “Not yet.”

Her heart clenches, ribs squeezing as tight as any corset. “Ah.”

Kiki lifts her gaze, meeting hers in the mirror. “Don’t worry, it’s only been a night.”

“Oh, right.” Still, the tightness in her chest doesn’t ease, doesn’t let her breathe easier. “They probably need-- time. To search.”

“Yes.” Kiki’s gaze drops, fixing to the last clasp. “Exactly. Did you find what you wanted?”

Shirayuki stares at the hairpins, the best she has--

Shouldn’t Master be helping you with this, Miss?

And closes the box.

She turns to Kiki, smile bright, tight. “Why don’t you just pick out one of my combs? Any will do, I think.”

It is not that the girl was not trusting-- for all girls in these stories must be trusting to a fault, must first fall for the lies meant to keep them safe-- but it was only that unlike other before her, she trusted herself as well.

The boy was her home, a part of her. Just as she might step through the door and know that there was still an ember smoldering in the hearth, she knew that something was wrong with the waiting, with the way those around her would say, he will come back on his own, he only needs time.

One does not need to see smoke to know a fire burns. And the girl did not need to prod wounds to know her boy was hurting.

Kiki cannot come to her every morning, she knows-- if Shirayuki were a princess in more than aspiration, she might be able to merit a countess as a guard, but as little more than a pharmacist living off the goodwill of the crown, she knows the assignment has caused tongues to wag, and not just below stairs.

Good, Obi would say, about time all those fancy nobles started guessing what you’re worth, Miss.

That would bring a smile, usually; as uncomfortable as this sort of attention was, Obi always made it sound exciting, as if each drawn eye was an accomplishment. As if every turned head was a coup.

But he’s not here now. And who lays beyond her door--

“Mitsuhide!” she gasps, glad she chose a gown she could close herself. “Are you with me today?”

“For a while, at least.” He smiles, stepping closer to loom pleasantly over her. “You’re looking well today.”

--Often sees only what he wants to see. Or, maybe, speaks only what she wants to hear.

“Do you think so?” she ventures, searching his face. Sleep has not come easy these past few nights, and though she knows she must, at some point, lose consciousness in order to wake, she remembers none of it. No moment where she dozes off, no burst of restfulness when she opens her eyes, no dreams.

Though perhaps that last is a mercy.

“Of course!” His smile is earnest, crinkling the corner of his eyes. “You’re practically glowing.”

Her smile is tremulous, but she manages to hold it, even if just for a moment. It’s enough to please Mitsuhide, which is what matters. “Thank you.”

He turns, offering his arm, and she nearly takes it, hand hovering over the dark cloth--

Dark cloth that isn’t wool, oh no, but lighter stuff. Cotton, perhaps, or a stiff linen. Summer fabrics. Obi had been wearing them weeks ago, and Haruka chided him for being too early, that the palace guard wouldn’t change over until the equinox--

“Is there any word?” The words stumble off her tongue on wobbling legs.

Mitsuhide blinks, eyes wide and brown and guileless. “Come again?”

“About Obi,” she presses. “Have they found anything yet?”

“They?” he murmurs, brow furrowing, but a moment later-- “Ah, you mean-- ah--?”

“The men Zen sent out to look for him.” She lays her hand on his arm, fingers clenching in the cloth-- cotton, she was right. “They must have news.”

“Oh, ah...” He clears his throat. “No. I haven’t heard anything.”

His hand engulfs hers, and oh, she hadn’t realized she had been gripping him so hard. Her fingers ease, smoothing the wrinkles they left.

“Shirayuki,” he rumbles, “I know you’re worried.”

Her throat is too tight to manage anything more than a squeak.

“Zen will take care of it,” he tells her, no doubt dogging his voice. “And I’m sure that-- that--” his gaze slips off her, fixing across the hall-- “I’m sure Obi will be back any day now.”

Ribs squeeze tight, her breath trapped in her lungs, and oh, how she wishes she could believe that, how she wishes he would just drop down onto her balcony like he never left, but--

You don’t know anything about me, Miss.

She can’t.

“After all, it’s hardly been a week,” he continues, confidence limping.

A week. Shirayuki’s mind whirls, starts counting the days, but she stops herself. She knows well enough how long it’s been; there’s no need to do the unkindest arithmetic and find the difference between that and when they’d told her.

“Right,” she says instead, plastering on a smile she does not feel. “Any day now.”

The girl is dogged, is determined, but in the end-- she is just a little girl.

Have you seen him, she would ask, did you see him when he left?

The townsfolk would only look at her with pitying eyes, would only shake their heads. He is gone, girl.

Then I will find him, she would say, and the townsfolk would sigh, would grimace, would tell her, it is time to accept it.

It is not any man that she knows the next morning.

He’s young, dark haired with an oval face, the same as so many guards at Wistal. She knew nearly every man on Lilias’s walls from walk alone, from veteran Jirou-- always a sergeant and never a commander, just the way he likes it-- to fresh-faced Hiro, only recently given his pike and hat. But here-- well, Obi had not been so involved with the guard in Wistal, save to avoid them.

No name comes to her. With the spray of freckles over his nose and the roundness still in his cheeks, he could not have been more than a recruit when she headed north, probably assigned to one of the lesser-used gates or sent to guard doors.

“My lady!” he gasps, bowing his head. “I’m to be your escort.”

Her smile stiffens, pulling tight like pressed paper. Perhaps she had been too generous with his age-- he was more likely one of the lanky boys hanging off the gate, rather than one of the young men guarding it.

“Oh,” she manages, poorly burying her disappointment. “T-thank you.”

Who does he work for? Her hand tightens on the door, the faint lilt of of Obi’s voice drawing her short. He had always been so much better at this game that her, plucking out which overtures were insult or ingratiation. Without him in her ear, she’s playing this game half-blind, never calculating the angles soon enough for safety.

Still, he is a young guard, surely too new to be in anyone’s pocket, and Izana was always so careful with the men that surrounded the royal family--

“Just for the morning!” he assures her. “As a favor to Lady Kiki. She’s busy this morning, my lady.”

That answers that question handily. “Oh. Well. I suppose...that’s fine.” She pulls the door closed behind her. “Do you know Kiki personally?”

“Hardly,” he tells her with a humble flush, falling into step just behind her. “My father is a tenant of Seiran. I didn’t even know she knew my name.”

Shirayuki’s smile settles easier on her face. “But you knew hers.”

“Everyone knows Lady Kiki,” he says, hushed and reverent, and oh, does Shirayuki recognize that breathlessness, that wonder. Even now it would catch in her chest when the light captured Kiki in just the right moment, like one of those paintings where ancient goddesses emerged from the sea or decapitated faithless kings. “She’s magnificent.”

She hums, smothering a smile. “Have you been in Wistal long?”

“The last three seasons,” he says, as if Wistal has anything other than this eternal summer and a slightly more mild winter. “They say I’m almost ready for the Poet’s Gate, if I want a little more bustle in my day.”

The Poet’s Gate. There’s a pleasant ache as she remembers those early days, as she remembers the two guards who would open it for her if she only asked-- Kai and Shiira, a bare recruit and a man hardly a handful of years his senior, both always greeting her with a smile. She hadn’t seen them since she’d returned; Obi had laughed when she’d mentioned it, worried, that first week.

They’re both veterans now, he’d told her, smile fondly curving a corner of his mouth. They won’t waste them on gate duty. Probably have plum assignments in the court, by now.

She means to ask about them, about whether he has heard where life and duty have taken the men who were kind to her before she earned her place, but instead--

“Have you heard anything about Obi?”

Heat floods her cheeks, but that is a familiar betrayal. That her mouth and mind no longer obey her, that she’s so liable to spit out her first thought with no warning--

That is new. That is worse.

Still, the boy only blinks. “Obi, my lady?”

“Sir Obi.” The title is odd on her tongue, like a shoe slipped on the wrong foot. “Zen-- His Highness sent men out to look for him a few days ago. I thought you might have heard something, seeing as how you live in the barracks.”

And guards are more loose with gossip than fishwives, Obi would say with a wink.

His brows draw down, mouth bowed in confusion. “Is Sir Obi some kind of nobleman? An exile, or something?” His eyes light as he adds, “An outlaw?”

Shirayuki can only stare, a terrible foreboding crawling in her gut. “N-no! Sir Obi is a guardsman-- or at least, he was, before. Now he’s a knight of the Royal Circle.”

The boy’s interest wanes. “Oh, no, haven’t heard anything about that. Not too strange though-- the knight’s circle tends to take care of their own.” His mouth rumples thoughtfully. “Though I haven’t heard of any of them missing, of late. Or anyone being sent out after them.”

“But the search,” she presses, the foreboding’s claws sinking deep into her belly, “you’ve heard of that, haven’t you? At least from the men who have gone out?”

Still he looks at her, uncomprehending. “My lady, I don’t know any that have.”

The girl has known kindness before.

Kindness was a hand in the market, leading her home when she was separated from her grandparents. It was the basket of food on her doorstep when they died, still warm from the oven. It was a dexterous hand deep in a rose bush, untangling branches so they might grow straight, might bloom in their season.

It had never before been the man who said, He will not come back, for it was the the river that took him, and he has drowned.

But honesty is its own kindness, in its way. Even when its message is cruel.

“You are distracted.”

Shirayuki blinks, and it’s only then that she feels the liquid at her wrist, thickly winding down her palm. Her toast sits outstretched in her fingers, forgotten, egg yolk dripping on her hands, her cuffs, the table--

“Oh!” She drops it, alarmed, onto her plate. “I’m-- I’m sorry, I just--”

“You weren’t paying attention,” Haruka admonishes gruffly, handing her a serviette. It’s a lost cause; the yolk may come off but it leaves a runny yellow blotch on the cotton. Unsalvageable, according to the court; ripe for the garbage.

She frowns. Maybe she can convince them to just replace the cuff; she’d heard just the other day that lace was soon to be out of fashion anyway.

The marquis grips her elbow, guiding it away from her tea. “You’re still not paying attention.”

She blinks. “Did you just reach across the table?”

He settles back into his seat, dabbing absently at his mouth. “Only to save the wash-maids their scrubbing. They’ll have a hard enough time with what you’ve already spilled, let alone adding to it.”

Her cheeks flare with heat, but she keeps her hands in her lap, worrying at the cloth there.

The marquis grunts, setting down his fork. “I see you have no intention of putting your concerns aside and dedicating your attention to the lesson.”

“No! I mean, yes! No, wait, I mean--” she shakes her head-- “I’m trying.”

With a sigh, he places his napkin on the table, shifting his plate away so that he may fold his hands above it. “What could weigh so heavily upon you that you cannot make it through a single egg?”

“Nothing,” she promises. “It’s just...”

Haruka raises his brows, as encouraging a gesture as she’s ever seen from him, but--

But to say she’s worried about Obi, that he’s run away and he won’t come back, that perhaps she’s chased him away--

Well, to a man like Haruka, she might as well be complaining about the dishwasher in the kitchens, or a hound in the kennels. A bodyguard should be beneath a princess’s notice.

Her mouth thins. Besides, that’s only half of the concerns she’s been wrangling with these last few hours.

“Zen told me that he would-- he would handle something.” Every word wobbles under its own weigh as it stumbles from between her teeth. “But it seems that he might not have...that he didn’t...”

The marquis clears his throat with a sharp nod, approving. “It is the prerogative of princes to keep their promises. Or not.” He fixes her with a stern look. “He must do what’s best for the kingdom.”

What’s best for the kingdom. The words rankle, rattling her right down to her bones. Obi was his aide, his staunchest ally, his friend--

“It is what’s best.” Shirayuki can do no arithmetic where Obi does not benefit Clarines, and that Zen might-- that Zen could-- “He knows that.”

Haruka lifts a shoulder, a careless shrug so like the Izana’s she nearly shivers from the chill. “Then perhaps he has been kept from keeping it. He is, after all, not the highest power in the kingdom.”

It’s tempting to believe; Izana often relished his role as a caltrop to their happiness, adding bizarre twists to his expectations that left Zen scrambling to meet them. But still, still--

“No.” If there is anyone that can do the complex calculations of loyalty and risk, it’s Izana. “I don’t think he would have stopped him. Not for this.”

“Then perhaps it is a lack of time,” Haruka offers, begrudgingly helpful, “or the resources. Or perhaps--” he hesitates, sending her a long look-- “the will.”

Her breath gasps from her, a palpable hit, and she doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want to think Zen wouldn’t believe finding Obi is as much of a priority as her, but--

There’s no reason to get so upset. It’s not odd for Obi to disappear with no explanation.

“Then why would he tell me he would?” She wishes she could keep the raw edge from her words, the accusation. “He must have done something. Kiki and Mitsuhide both said that he...”

Her words dry up at the pitying look on the marquis’ face, gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual stony expression.

“Not that I care to insert myself into your petty concerns,” he says, his tone thick with disinterest, “but it would behoove you, as a princess, to have a keen eye for who is most loyal to you, and who is most loyal to your husband.“

She blinks. “But--”

“It would be a mistake of the highest order to believe they are the same thing.” He gives her a long, meaningful look. “Kingdoms have fallen from such folly.”

Trust is a strange thing, is it not? It is a badge of honor, freely given. It is a privilege, hard to earn.

Doubt is easier; it lives with us, a tenant that never leaves, feeding our darkest thoughts and deepest fears. It is so easy to glut oneself on uncertainty, on indecision, and yet--

And yet we will fight hardest when trust is on the line. Even with the bleakest evidence, we will beg for one slight more, for another single shred of proof until it buries us. Anything to keep from believing it has been broken.

For once trust is lost, it can never be regained.

Her stomach still churns when the marquis releases her from her lesson, his words sitting as poorly as her egg and toast.

He must do what’s best for the kingdom. The words ring loud in her ears, inescapable. Perhaps it is a lack of time-- or of will.

It is only the tweak in her jaw that warns her how tight she is clenching it. This is-- she can’t-- she shouldn’t--

Her hand drops from the door, and she takes a deep, collecting breath, drawn right up from her toes. No matter how much Haruka may pretend he knows about Zen, about his motives, he’s still not him. A man like the marquis may make false promises, but Zen--

She squares her shoulders, glaring down the door. Zen has never not kept his word, not to her. He doesn’t deserve this doubt.

The knot in her stomach squirms. If only her surety could kill it.

It’s Kiki who waits for her in the hall; her lean is casual, one boot placed on the wall behind her as if this were some simple tavern and not the royal palace. For a moment, Shirayuki nearly laughs; few dare to treat the heart of Clarines with such irreverence-- Obi, for one, though she suspects he constitutionally incapable of awe; Izana, for another, though she supposes he has the most right out of anyone to treat the palace like any other home; and--

Zen.

It would behoove you to have a keen eye for who is most loyal to you, and who is most loyal to your husband.

The world tilts, and suddenly the casual lean seems studied, affected. Every line of Kiki’s body is tense, coiled for confrontation, her head hanging heavy and shoulders bowed, as if the weight of her thoughts were a burden. It’s only when she turns to her, smile tilting her lips, that it eases, but--

But even that is a conscious effort, an act that she is performing for Shirayuki’s benefit. Something is wrong, and Kiki doesn’t want her to know.

“Shirayuki.” Kiki peels off the wall, faint, friendly smile in place. “Did you enjoy--?”

“Have you heard anything?” Shirayuki nearly winces at the edge in her voice, at how terse she sounds. “Anything at all?”

There’s a moment, so quick it would be missed were she not waiting for it, where Kiki’s face quivers, where her carefully constructed smile pulls tight like tanning hides. It’s gone the next, replaced by a concern so genuine Shirayuki aches to believe it. “No, not yet. I’m sure that--”

“It’s been nearly a week,” she pushes, “and no one’s heard anything.”

Kiki shrugs a shoulder, too casual. “It’s Obi. He goes off all the time.”

“Not for this long.” She shakes her head. “Not without telling me. What if something’s happened, and he--?”

“You don’t need to worry, Shirayuki.” Kiki lays a hand on her arm, giving her a comforting squeeze. “Obi can take care of himself. If he talks himself into trouble, he’s fully capable of talking himself right back out.”

Her nails bite painfully into the flesh of her palms. “But he shouldn’t have to,” she says, so softly, meeting Kiki’s hard gaze. “We’re his friends.”

Kiki’s grip tightens, but her only answer is a harsh breath, echoing in the hall.

“He was already by himself for so long,” Shirayuki pushes, “we shouldn’t let him be alone again. Not like this.”

“Shirayuki--”

“Did Zen send anyone out to look for him?” she asks so baldly, Kiki rocks back on her heels. “Or was that...”

She can’t bring herself to finish the thought. Not without knowing for certain.

“Zen,” Kiki grits out between her teeth, “is doing what he think is best.”

It’s not the answer Shirayuki is hoping far, and it’s far and away from the one she wants.

“I think,” she says, drawing herself up to her full height, “that I need to see Zen. Now.”

It is said that the depth of a wound has little to do with how it heals, but rather depends on the way that it is left, on the shape of the weapon that made it. Trauma, they say, is the difference between a clean cut and a poor death.

There is no way to prepare for betrayal. Perhaps that is what makes it so hard to swallow, so hard to forgive. It is a ragged knife, pressed to the most sensitive parts.

And no matter how shallow the wound, the rent it leaves is ragged, slow to heal, if it ever does. Traumatic, to be left with a gash that will not close, that can open and bleed again, if it chooses to.

A killer, some might say. Just another type of poison.

In her first days at Wistal, she had heard the complaints: Prince Zen is never in his office. The second prince keeps lords waiting in his antechamber for hours. The prince has no respect for the time of the members of the small council.

It had made her laugh then, small giggles smothered by the collar of her lab coat while Ryuu watched her with wary eyes. Even before the kiss in the tower, before she’d known about his feelings for her-- and discovered her feelings for him-- she’d felt a thrill knowing that she was often the reason he crept off his balcony after tea, or slipped out a window after brunch. He kept important men waiting, but her-- never.

Or at least, not until now.

Shirayuki’s hands are rarely idle.

At Lilias, she had rarely been without a book to hand or notes to make; all too often Lata had remarked on the stack of tomes that seemed to follow her wherever she went, or Shidan complained about the number of notes he found littered outside his office door.

What is it they say, Miss? Obi would tease, his mouth rucked in one corner, brow cocked. Idle hands are wickedness’s tools?

She’d given up on smothering her smiles by then; he’d always known anyway. Then I guess that makes me all goodness.

Ah, he’d sigh, looking over the yard, breath misting on the air. I suppose it does.

Even as a child, she’d been under the bar, playing shell games with the glasses, or in the kitchen, learning how not to cook away from her grandmother’s watchful eye. A busy thing, the townsfolk would laugh.

But a princess is not busy. Or rather-- she only plans to be busy. She doesn’t carry a stack of books under an arm, or have ink spilled on the web between her thumb and forefinger, nor does she feel the need to fidget when she’s left to wait on what amounts to little more than a cushioned stool.

Ten minutes after she sits, she tears the lace on her sleeve. Another five, and she’s lost a button, hidden somewhere underneath her voluminous skirts. Not three minutes later, one of the guards takes pity on her and gives her his handkerchief.

“Hard to ruin a simple thing like this, my lady,” he says with a wan smile, casting a nervous look toward the door.

Shirayuki takes one look at the lovingly embroidered initials in the corner and swallows down, I wouldn’t be so sure.

All told, she waits an hour, the sun sinking under the horizon before Zen leaves his office, half-dressed for dinner.

“Shirayuki!” His eyes pulse wide as he sees her, swinging towards Mitsuhide in question. “I didn’t know that we-- did we have plans tonight...?”

“No.” It’s an effort to keep her voice even, calm. “I needed to see you.”

His mouth flares wide, the weariness gone from his face, as if it had never been. “Oh?”

She takes a breath, bracing herself for the conversation to come, but she chokes on it as he takes her hands so softly between his own.

“I don’t have time tonight,” he says, gentle and pleased, “but tomorrow-- dinner, just the two of us. I promise.”

“That isn’t--”

He squeezes her hands before he leaves, smile wry and tired, and she--

She stands alone, hands still warm from where he held them, the unsaid words caught in her teeth.

Have you seen him? the little girl asks, day in and day out. Have you seen my boy?

He is gone, the townsfolk tell her, as they always do. If it were another girl, this tale might end here; determined and dogged she might be, but everyone has a breaking point. It would be too easy to accept it, to forget, to let her boy become a faded memory from childhood.

But this little girl-- she learns.

Where did he go, then? she asks instead, and the townspeople shrug their shoulders. The city, some guess, or the wood. Perhaps he followed a traveling band, or a woman.

What does it matter? one finally says, cross. What would a little girl like you even do?

Ah, for that is the trouble with stories; they make us think of virtuous, obedient girls, girls who remember to offer old grandmothers lunch from their basket, and remember all the words to the magic rhyme. We forget the most important thing:

Little girls can do anything, so long as they haven’t learned they can’t.

She nearly loses herself in the city.

The streets of Lilias had been as familiar to her as the lines on her palm, their winding paths worn into the very fabric of her heart so that even on the darkest nights, she could make her way back to her chambers with little more than her legs alone. She’d thought she’d known Wistal the same way; she’d lived for months in that little apartment outside the palace, the one with the pot-bellied stove, and even when she’d moved into the dormitories, she’d spent hours perusing the markets for pharmacy stock. But now that she’s here, standing in its night-darkened roads--

Ah, she feels every day of those years away.

Still, she remembers when Obi would stumble onto her balcony, pockets a fair bit heavier than when he’d left her, crowing about the pub just outside the gates where the guard would go to drink away their days. And gamble away their paychecks, it seemed, if Obi’s suddenly flushed fortunes were any indication.

He’d never told her its precise location-- she’d gone to drink with the guard in Lilias, more times than she could count, but in Wistal she’d been reserved, wary about mixing company outside of Zen’s influence, and either Obi had sense her hesitation, or--

Well, or he’d just not wanted to go out drinking with the bookworm who kept him cooped up in the library all day. Still, she knew it wasn’t far from the Poet’s Gate, and not far from the market district, somewhere close to the river that ran through the city, and from there--

From there, she just followed the guards.

The water hungers.

You laugh; how can waters hunger when they have no mouths to eat, no bellies to sate. But that is the thing of it-- waters run deep, and they long to be filled. That is why we talk of pond reflections that reach up to pull children in, or monstrous horses that lure men deeper, or great, terrible beasts that live at the bottom.

The girl knows it, as all clever children do. But she knows just as well-- a beast that hungers can be bargained with, as long as you pay the price.

Hood drawn low, Shirayuki slips in to the steady stream of patrons that saunter into the bar.

The pub is dim, much more than she expects. Wistal has ever been the bright spot in her memory, the city of eternal summer; that it has places where the lamps burn low too gives her pause.

Not for long; she’s the daughter of a bar-- or at least a granddaughter-- and she’s used to these dark places. As a child, she’d sit under the tables, listening to the custom talk, hearing about plans she only half understood and people she would never known. She’d learned words to never say, too, or at least that was what her grandmother had told her, sending her to bed without dessert.

She knows what to look for-- a shadowed table, not too far from where the guards are losing their coin, just close enough to eavesdrop without--

“Ah, sorry,” a man says, shouldering her hard enough to make her gasp. “I wasn’t looking...ma’am?”

He wraps the last word in a question, and with a cursory glance around the room, Shirayuki realizes her mistake. She’s the only one in the room wearing skirts that isn’t also serving drink.

Of course, of course. Her grandparents might have seen both husband and wife for their evening drink, but a place like this, meant for guards who were done with the day but yet didn’t want to face their duties at home--

“Ma’am?” Another man, dressed in the uniform and nearly as young as Ryuu steps up to her. “I think you might be turned around.”

“N-no.” She digs her heels into the floorboards, and the soldier trying to steer her stumbles, jostling her. “I’m right where I--”

“Lady Shirayuki?” The other man stares at her owlishly, and it takes her a full minute to realize that if she made the cheeks rounder, the skin more freckled--

“Kai?” She grips his wrists, relief nearly choking. “Kai. I’m so glad to see you.”

He blinks, staring down at where she grasps him. “Ah, of course, my lady. I’m glad to see you too. Been a long time.”

“I hope you’ve been well,” she says, breathless, “but also, I need your help.”

There are rules this sort of bargaining, to gaining favors from the wild.

They are not like any you know. We live in a world of reason, where one can exchange paper and the promise of precious metals and receive goods in return. But to do so with a wild thing, with a tree or a deer or a mountain or even a river--

Impossible. Their price is fixed, a single thing.

And oh, it is high.

Every little girl has her precious treasure, an item of unfathomable worth. They are secret things, sometimes kept hidden under floorboard or pressed between pages of a beloved book, and sometimes kept in plain sight, for clever girls know that no one will look for what they can already see. And secret these things much remain, for once someone knows of it--

Well, there is a kind of power in knowing what someone loves most, is there not?

This one keeps hers under the bed, peeking out just under the skirt. It is special thing for special occasions, hardly worn save to impress. The red shines when she puts them on, the patent leather hugging to the small curves of her feet, and although some others may have better, may have silk slippers or heeled boots soft as a glove--

Here, her boy had said, hands scarred from thorns, blood smearing into the leather. I found them.

--hers are far more precious all the same.

The table is well lit, and Kai sees to it that the barmaids keep it laden with food and drink aplenty, but--

“This is kind of you,” Shirayuki says, hesitant, “but I need your help.”

“Anything,” he promises, and the men pressed in beside her nod, eyes wide and innocent.

She stifles a sigh. A part of her-- a non-small part of her-- wishes it had been Shiira instead. “It’s Obi. He’s missing.”

Kai goes pale beneath the lights. “Missing?”

She nods, hands gripping the edge of her cloak. “I need to know if you know-- know anything. If anyone has seen anything.”

The men exchange concerned glances, the kind adults do over the heads of little children. Her nails bite hard into her palms. This is what all her years of learning, all her hard work has come to: for everyone to treat her as if she is as unable to hear simple truths as a child.

“Please.” She hates how her voice cracks under the weight of her worry, of her anger. “If anyone knows anything-- anything, I don’t have much, but...”

She places a long, wooden box on the table, and with a practiced motion, pulls the lid open.

“What I do have,” she says, watching the glass bead wink in the light, its orange gloss as alive as fire, “is yours.”

The river is a force of nature, relentless, ruthless, and uncaring, but--

So are little girls, when they have been crossed.

Is it true you took my boy from me? the little girl asks the river, her words lost in its rapids. I don’t have much, but what I have is yours.

It does not answer; water may be ever-changing, ever-flowing, but it waits on tradition.

If I give you my shoes, she asks, brushing their shiny leather for the last time, will you give him back to me?

The men are silent, eyes fixed to the hairpin glistening on the tabletop. Lady Mihoko may say it is the least among her ornaments, lacking the precious stones and fine filigree that most nobles favor, but-- it has worth. The bead may be glass, but the pin is gold, and what it lacks in precious jewels it makes up for in rarity; in all her travels across Clarines and Tanbarun, Shirayuki has never seen another like it.

It only strikes her now that maybe, just maybe, it was too fine a prize for a bare-knuckled fight under a bridge. That maybe--

Maybe it might be more precious than she could have ever known.

Her chest tightens as one of the men reaches out. Here she is, with Obi’s greatest treasure, and she is giving it away.

Maybe it’s no wonder why he left.

The little girl watches as her red shoes float back to shore, watches as they are left so delicately on the bank, and forgets how to breathe.

Did I not throw them far enough? she asks, using all her strength to hurl then into its current. Give me back my boy!

Still they drift back to her, cutting through the river’s relentless flow, now even a drop of water left on them.

Where is he? she asks the river. If he is not with you, then where has he gone?

But that is not the bargain, now is it?

He slides the lid shut. “We couldn’t possibly take this, my lady.”

Another of the guard nods, eager. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“Not when you’re looking for Sir Obi,” Kai tells her. “I didn’t see anything, but one of the recruits mentioned something the other night.”

Her heart flutters painfully in her chest. “What did he say?”

“I don’t...” Kai’s cheeks flush, and his eyes won’t meet hers. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes!” She’s breathless, so close to her answers.

“The recruit doesn’t know Sir Obi, not by anything but reputation, so we can’t be sure--”

Her hands dart out, grabbing the close weave of his sleeve. “Kai, please, anything.”

He glances up at the other guards, uncertain, and says, “He saw a man leaping over the walls the night Sir Obi went missing. He thought it was odd at the time, but since they were leaving from inside and going outside--”

“They?”

Kai grimaces. “Yes, they.”

She stares, uncomprehending. “He wasn’t alone?”

“No.” Kai hesitates, looking sick, before he adds, “He was seen leaving with a woman, my lady.”

It is funny how we want answers, how we need them, how we are desperate for them-- but only when they are the one we are looking for.

A woman. The air in this pub is too thin, she can hardly breathe. “I need to stand,” she says, hardly thinking, “please.”

The guards all scramble to move, offering hands to help her forward, but--

He wasn’t alone. He had left with a woman. He had planned to leave--

“I think,” says an all-too-familiar voice, “that this is quite enough.”

Shirayuki raises her gaze, fixing on the cloaked figure before her, on the pale of her hair in the gaslight, on the nigh-black indigo her eyes have become in the shadow, on the pale outstretched hand that hovers, expectant before her.

“Come on,” Kiki says, gentle yet firm. “It’s time to go back.”

It is magnificent, is it not, how we survive?

It is said it is our strongest instinct, the call we cannot refuse. When there is nothing else left to us, when not even thought can be counted upon, it is still in us to live.

A body may have a thousand cuts, a back may be pricked with a dozen arrows, but oh, how we will still stand, how we still take the next step, and then another. How we will walk a mile as we still bleed, if only to to take another breath.

And yet still, it is possible to die of a broken heart. And old man may lose his lover, and when he lays down that night, he never wakes.

A poison, a blade, our longing: it is up to the heart to decide what we can take.

Isn’t it magnificent how it is impossible to know which will be the killing blow?

It is lucky that her arm is tucked so nearly into Kiki’s side as they walk back; Shirayuki’s mind cannot hold a thought for more than a moment, let alone try to trace her steps back through the market.

“He wasn’t alone,” she manages. “Someone left with him.”

Kiki hums.

“A woman.” Her brow furrows. “She must have gone over the gate with him. Do you think that it could be Torou?”

“I couldn’t say,” Kiki replies, tight.

“Do you think that he...” She cannot seem to make the words settle on her tongue. “Do you think that he planned...?”

She cannot make herself say, do you think he meant to leave without saying goodbye?

Kiki is silent, the sort of silent that isn’t empty but heavy instead.

Shirayuki stops, and Kiki pauses beside her. “Did you know he didn’t leave alone?”

Kiki’s mouth pulls thin, and she looks away. “It’s late. We should get inside.”

Shirayuki lets out a long breath, finally glancing at the door before them, and--

“This isn’t my room.” She blinks. “This isn’t even my wing.”

“No,” Kiki says with a long sigh. “It isn’t.”

Not every lie is meant to wound. Oh no, some are meant to be shields, a cushion between our softer parts and the sharp edges of reality.

After all, not all of us are ready for the harsh light of truth. Some of us would prefer to remain blinded all our lives, if only we could keep from hurting.

“I must admit,” the consort says, as elegant on her ottoman as if she were keeping court. “I did think you would last longer than this.”

Shirayuki drops into a genuflect so low her head nearly brushes the carpet. She has dined with princes and traded quips with kings, but there is something about the consort of Clarines that intimidates her as not even Izana does. “Your Majesty.”

“Please, let us not stand on ceremony.” She gestures for her to sit, though there’s no chairs to take, only the floor before her. “Especially since we are so soon to call each other sisters, are we not? Unless--” she darted a pointed glance at Kiki-- “I am to take from this ill-conceived jaunt that you have changed your mind.”

“N-no!” she yelps, taking a step forward, only halted by the mild-mannered brow the consort lifts. She haltingly drops to her knees, tucking her ankles beneath her on the carpet. “I mean, yes. I mean-- I still want to marry Zen. I just...I can’t let my friend--”

“Shush.” She holds up a hand, mouth bent in a kindly curve. “I understand your worry. But I have always been told you are a clever girl, and you are going to have to be much cleverer than this if you wish to marry my brother.”

Shirayuki frowns, annoyance building. “I just went into the market--”

“And into a tavern frequented by commoners,” the consort interjects, cross. “I know that you have, to this point, been far more free to roam as you see fit, but my husband place this restriction upon you for a reason. Surely you must know that a woman of your standing must be entirely above reproach if she wishes to...elevate her station to the degree you do.”

“I’m not trying to--”

“You are,” she is informed. “Perhaps you do not want the title, but Clarines cannot be cloven from a Wisteria, no matter how much you wish it. It is best that you resign yourself to that reality now, if no one else has seen fit to impress it upon you.”

Shirayuki squirms, the carpet rubbing at her knees. “Haruka did tell me something like that.”

“I would expect so. He’s a realist, unlike some.” Haki shifts on her stool, leaning close. “If you are to maintain the reputation needed to make this scheme work, you cannot go haring off to find your friend. Not when Zen has everything well in hand.”

She sits back, gracing Shirayuki with a significant look. “Especially after another man.”

Heat creeps up her cheeks, and oh, that implication knots her dread tighter in her gut, makes it sit as heavy as lead. “It’s not like that. I just can’t sit by if something’s happened--”

“It’s not easy,” the consort allows, with all the weight of someone who knows from experience. “But a princess is not a hound. It is not our place to search.”

Her hands clench tight in her lap. “I can’t do nothing.”

“Nor did I say you should.” The consort’s lips tilt, sly. “When one cannot act themselves, they rely on their people to act for them.”

Frustration wells up in her. “I don’t have people. I only have myself.”

“Come now, you cannot believe that.” She tilts her head, laying a thoughtful finger to her chin. “You have Zen, who in turn has people. People who he is using to find your Obi as we speak.”

Shirayuki darts a glance at Kiki, but she’s inscrutable, as always. “Is he?”

The consort raises her brows. “You doubt him?”

“I...” She doesn’t want to. “The guard--”

“As if my brother would send our guards to find a man of his aide’s caliber.” The consort laughs, so easy. “Did he not promise you he would find him? Give you his word?”

“Y-yes.” She can still feel his hands around hers, the warm way he had looked at her. “He did.”

“Then how can you worry?” The consort smiles brightly. “My brother’s word is his bond.”

“I...” Something twists with her, dark, but she swallows it down. “Right. Of course. Zen is-- handling it.”

The consort nods, business concluded. “Good. Now come, I’ve been told you are struggling with your lessons.”

Oh. She hadn’t been aware that was...common knowledge. “I...”

“It’s only to be expected,” the consort concludes, “most ladies are trained their entire life for this, and you have only just started. But worry not,” she smiles, so warm, “I will help you.”

Shirayuki’s eyes pulse wide. “M-me? That’s...very generous of you.”

Haki’s mouth curls in amusement. “I won’t pretend my motives are not personal. I’ve seen the list of candidates for if this experiment fails, and you are fully the most interesting person out of all of them.” Teeth flash from behind her lips, gone in a moment. “I refuse to have to plan every gala with someone whose most nuanced opinion has been formed over the difference between carmine and crimson.”

Shirayuki frowns. “Aren’t they both red?”

“See, already you are more tolerable than half of them.” She sighs, waving a weary hand. “What you don’t know about this life can be learned. And unlike some, I believe in setting up people to succeed. It must be my soft northern heart.”

Now that her heart is calm, she remembers the enormity of what she’s done. “So you won’t-- I mean, Izana--?”

“Ah, your little jaunt. No, this will be our little secret.” Shirayuki isn’t sure who that shark’s smile is for, but she’s glad it’s not her. “Women must have some, after all.”

But that is the thing, is it not? That which is hidden never stays buried. Reality never halts its siege.

In the end, all we have done is allowed the truth to hone its blade. In the end, it is a betrayal we never meant to make.

It’s funny how we may hurt the ones we love so easily, without ever even trying.

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #All That Remains #snow queen au #this part has gotten a little out of control #i mean it makes sense it's like the longest part of the original story #but there's like one or two more parts to this 'chapter' still coming #we're juuuuuuust getting to the woman who can conjure #like 15K into this part ughhhh #WHATEVER IT'LL BE WORTH IT #ENJOY YOUR PAIN YOU MASOCHISTS

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