#i was met with a bigger attitude and a remark of ‘i could say something right now but i won’t’ ??? what do you mean

[gamingbeats]

i truly wish some days being in a fandom paid the bills

[trickstarbrave]

i am white as a preface for this post. but i do know a LOT of indigenous people given i grew up literally right by a reservation and then went to college near navajo nation.

but lily orchard likes to posit people call her a pretendian because she is light skinned, unenrolled, and has had to connect later in life to her culture. when in fact i think the much bigger issue is the shit she has said about other indigenous people which is honestly insulting and terrible things to say. i guess its not impossible for her to be indigenous and have these extremely harmful, bigoted beliefs, but alongside everything else and her sister's explanations as well as the vague tribe she claims to be from it (Cherokee-unspecified) doesnt look very good

i've met numerous light skinned indigenous people who are unenrolled for various reasons. either they werent allowed to, they were taken from their families and raised by white people, they didn't have high enough blood quantum, or their parents/grandparents did not enroll them because they thought their child would be forced into poverty and be subjected to horrific racism on a societal level. it's complex, and especially in america, the government has made an active effort to divorce indigenous children from their nations, families, and culture as well as trying to de-incentivize enrollment

but frankly none of them have ever had the blaze attitude toward their fellow ingenious people like lily orchard has. she insulted people living on reservations (something they can't fucking control), said she was so thankful she grew up in a white suburban area, disparaged "backwater/barbaric" tribes who refuse to assimilate into white culture, and more insulting remarks.

people dont live in poverty on reservations because they want to or are too stupid to give it up. they are forced to. they were forced out of their lands and away from their homes and everything they knew in a grueling march to somewhere foreign, often lumping tribes that historically didn't get along into the same area with limited resources. they've had their water polluted, animals killed, sprayed with deadly herbicides, had their children forcibly taken, had their languages and spiritual/religious practices criminalized, and so on. these people have kept traditions alive the best they could, often through insurmountable odds. where do you, someone raised more privileged, get off on telling them their backwards idiots "complicit" in their own oppression and poverty and telling them to just give it up and assimilate into white colonialist culture? why would anyone want to give you the benefit of the doubt when you have shown you have no compassion for other indigenous people?

i can't know for certain and it's not my place to call her out but other indigenous ppl have and it's not hard to see why. but she'll never address the real reason why

[formenis]

Hi there! I can to request a one shot where the reader is jealous because BB has been looking at someone too much or something like that. Please and thank you!

Yes, of course dear~ I love writing B ♥

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TITLE: SIGHT

pairing: Beyond Birthday x jealous!gn!reader

|| warning: major spoilers of the novel "The Los Angeles BB murder cases" / jealousy / slightly yandere behaviour / a not very healthy relationship ||

When B left the Wammy's House on May 2002 for the States he felt a bit out of place: he was alone in a foreign and far country. Luckily that feeling lasted less than five minutes once at the Los Angeles airport. He had only one goal in mind: to surpass L, the greatest detective in the world, as the "World's Greatest Criminal," giving him a case that B hoped he would be unable to solve.

June just started few days ago when B's life changed in a way he would never imagined. He was in a beauty store, he needed to buy a new foundation and few eye pencils in order to maintain his heavy mask of L's lookalike. B was waiting for his turn at the cash register and he was the only boy there.

All the girls (and women) were secretly looking at him trying to understand if those products were for him or for a female partner or relative. And maybe the oldest ones were mentally insulting him because "boys should not wear makeup". As if B read those thoughts he turned his head towards those women to glare at them: his dull black eyes always made people look away in fear. A voice, however, distracted him.

«Sir? It's your turn»

B looked in front of him once again and noticed the cashier was right so he walked closer to them, scattering the products on the conveyor belt. The cashier, someone with H/C hair and S/C skin, smiled kindly at him while doing whatever a cashier did, B didn’t care and looked away just to read people's names above their heads.

«Sir? If you're interested, we have a lighter shade of this foundation»

At those words B turned to look at the cashier one more time. Since L was really pale, lighter was better.

«Really? I saw nothing at the display cabinet» B replied with a raised eyebrow but the cashier couldn’t see it since his face was partially hidden by a cap.

«It's because we hadn’t the time to organise it but it is available. Do you want to see it?»

«Yes»

The E/C coloured cashier nodded at him and whispered something to a girl next to them. In few instants that girl opened the register next to them so the other clients could pay for their shopping there.

In the meantime, B thought about his plan: everything was perfectly set (the crime scene, the Wara Ningyo, the victim's name and his cover), nothing will go wrong. He smirked at the perfection of his project, he couldn’t be more satisfied.

«There it is, sir. Do you want to try it?» the cashier came back, in their hands a tiny bottle of foundation way lighter than the one B chose before. The once L's successor nodded and extended his right hand so the cashier could apply a small quantity of foundation on it, with circular motions.

«The ideal is to test the product on the side of your jaw but I believe this shade suits you well, sir. It's almost invisible on your hand»

B, however, wasn’t focused on the foundation in that moment. When the cashier's fingers touched his hand he felt a strange sensation. It was like…flames, as if he touched the fire with bare hands. He wanted…to feel it…once again…

«You're right, I think I'll take this» B masked his emotions with a fake smile and the cashier nodded at his reply. While they were busy with his products, B's eyes couldn’t look away from his right hand. The foundation was still there and he caressed it with the thumb. Something about that simple gesture upset him…in a positive way, maybe?

«It's $22.13, sir»

Without saying another word, B payed for his shopping and left the beauty shop. Before leading back home, he glanced inside the shop. He could read above the cashier's head two words: Y/N L/N. And then a date.

"Your death is so far from now, Y/N…you're lucky".

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It was August 2002 and Believe Bridesmaid was already dead. B was rather satisfied about his job, nobody interrupted him during the murderer. Not even when he re-dressed the victim after the post-mortem mutilation.

Something, however, didn’t go as he planned. This "something" was Y/N. A part of B's brain yelled things like "Don’t distract yourself!" or "Focus on L not them"; but the other half pushed him to know Y/N more. He went in that beauty shop as much as he could even though he didn’t buy anything.

Despite his unique personality, B and Y/N started to get along. Poor Y/N ignored the fact that more than once B followed them home and he even spied on them different times.

«Ryuzaki! Did you hear?» an afraid Y/N appeared from the service entrance of their beauty shop. It was a sort of habit for B (or Ryuzaki as he introduced to Y/N) to join them after work.

«Hear what, Y/N?» he asked while putting his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans. Even though he always walked hunched over he was still taller than Y/N.

«A famous writer died!» they put the shop's keys in their bag and started to walk back home with Ryuzaki beside them.

«Yes, I heard that. It happened few weeks ago, right?»

Y/N nodded, they seemed quite shocked. «I read all his books, I can't believe someone killed him»

«Yeah…Los Angeles is becoming a dangerous place»

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August 4th was close and B had to kill again. He managed to realise all the riddles and the three Wara Ningyo he had to leave on the scene. However, something was missing: the victim itself. He decided he would take advantage of a walk he wanted to take with Y/N. They needed a break from work and B suggested to spend some time at the park.

Once surrounded by peace and trees, however, Y/N noticed something strange on Ryuzaki. Something that made them…boil with jealousy.

Since the moment they met Ryuzaki at the beauty shop, Y/N felt something for that strange "un-private" detective. They didn’t care about his peculiar behaviour or particular taste about food: his deep black eyes, the way his thin lips curved in a smile each time he saw them and his intellect…he knew so many things, Y/N wondered where he studied all that.

Ah, poor Y/N. They were completely unaware of Ryuzaki's real self. They knew the pale, slouched "un-private" detective and not the bloodthirsty and ferocious serial killer.

They admitted they started to feel…attracted by the man. Y/N didn’t know it was simple friendship or…something else.

Back to the park, Y/N noticed a strange attitude of Ryuzaki. Since the two of them started to walk towards the park, the man was staring intensely at all women (and even men) that passed next to them. It looked like he was searching for someone in particular.

«Are you alright Ryuzaki?»

The un-private detective turned towards Y/N and smiled. «Yes Y/N» and then he came back at staring at people as nothing happened…as if Y/N wasn’t there with him.

He looked at people down on with such intensity that Y/N had the feeling he was imagining something in his head. He even smirked from time to time.

«I wish you would look at me in the same way…» Y/N said in a whisper.

«I don’t know what that was about, but I love seeing you all riled up» at that answer Y/N turned towards him. Did he hear them?

Ryuzaki was looking at them with curiosity, a thumb over his lips. The wind messed up his (already ruffled) hair and his weird sitting position - with his knees pulled up against his chest- made him bigger than usual.

Y/N's cheeks turned pink and looked away embarrassed. Geez, Ryuzaki heard them…

They were so focused on their gaffe that they didn’t notice the man moved an arm around their shoulder in a cute attempt to hug them. That gesture took Y/N aback but hugged him back almost immediately, sensing the intoxicating scent of strawberry jam of his clothes.

«I would never reserve that kind of look on you, Y/N. You're far too…» and B paused, trying to find the right word to not to make them suspicious about his behaviour. «…important for me»

Y/N silently sighed in relief and stood trapped in the hug for a while. They were unaware, however, that B found the person he was searching for: Quarter Queen, August 4th 2002. At that sight he grasped with force at Y/N's shoulder…finally, his second victim.

Y/N interpreted that grasp as a gesture of Ryuzaki to remark what he said before, that they were important to him so they didn’t notice the strange, dangerous look on his face.

«Trust me, Y/N…you don't wish to be looked like that by me»

[jlalafics]

"The Long Weekend"-Part One

Happy belated birthday @keelaree!

Hope you enjoy this first part. Thank you for being such a wonderful part of my writing life, and an even better friend. Can't wait till we can reunite in SF, so we can tea time together and eat soup dumplings.

Love you!

Summary: Two assistants who barely tolerate each other. One snowy cabin. One very long weekend.

Oh, and one bed.

-----

“I’m making the turn now, Haymitch,” Peeta told his boss as he navigated the icy road. “Should have everything prepped and ready by the time you and Effie arrive.”

“Thanks,” Haymitch replied over the speakerphone. “I should tell you that I did ask for someone to help you out. Someone who knows Effie better than I do sometimes—”

Peeta slowed his car as he spotted the cozy cabin in front of him. However, he grimaced seeing the red Jeep already parked on its side.

“You didn’t.”

“Peeta, Katniss knows Effie very well,” his boss said calmly. “Just like you know me. I know that you two don’t get along—”

“Understatement of the year,” Peeta replied as he parked roughly.

“This is important. I’m proposing to Effie and I want it to be perfect,” Haymitch explained. “Katniss knows all the foods she likes to eat, and how to decorate the place to make it comfortable yet romantic. Effie and I are finishing up our meeting with Mr. Snow then we’ll be making our way up to the cabin for the holiday weekend. I’ll call you when we’re on our way so you and Katniss can take off—that is if you haven’t murdered one another by then.”

“I’m only doing this because I’m your assistant,” he called out.

“You could at least like me!” Haymitch joked. “I pay you an obscene amount for an assistant.”

“Katniss probably gets paid more.”

“Well, she picks up tampons for Effie without being asked so probably.”

“Everything will be ready by the time you get here,” Peeta promised. “And I’m doing this because I like and respect you.”

“Thank you, Peeta. Call you soon.”

++++++

Peeta Mellark sighed as he stepped out of his car, bags in hand. The snowy wind picked up and he wrapped his parka tighter around himself before rushing up to the porch. It was getting worse up here, and he hoped that the soon-to-be engaged couple would make it safely.

Getting out the key that Haymitch lent him, Peeta unlocked the door and quickly stepped in to keep the cold air from entering with him.

“Oh, you’re finally here.” Katniss Everdeen sailed into the room, placing a charcuterie board on the coffee table in the center of the sitting room. “I thought you died or something.”

Peeta gave her a wry smile, placing the bags on the floor before shaking off his parka and hanging it on the hook by the door.

“Thought or hoped?” He searched his bag before pulling out the champagne that Haymitch asked along with the two glasses. Going to the table, Peeta placed them on the table before going back to the bag for the champagne bucket. “Is there ice?”

“The fridge has an ice machine,” Katniss informed him tersely, nodding her head towards the left. “I’ve already gotten their dinner started.”

“Not surprised.” Peeta walked into the kitchen, heading to the stainless-steel fridge. “You’re so anal that you’ve probably carved those little radish flowers for garnish.”

“They’re in the fridge so they’ll be fresh.”

Peeta wasn’t sure why they didn’t get along.

For one, Katniss was admittedly attractive with her long dark, and almond-shaped grey eyes. The first time he saw his stomach had definitely done a little flip. She had been walking alongside Effie, notebook in hand, wearing a fitted black dress with a peter pan collar and paying scant attention to anything else around her.

She literally knocked him to the ground.

Katniss had apologized, holding out her hand to help him up.

And Peeta had fucking tingled at her touch.

Over the next few days as he learned the ropes of being Haymitch Abernathy’s assistant, Peeta noticed her across the hall. Effie Trinket’s office was directly adjacent to his boss’ and Katniss’ desk was in the same spot as his.

She kept her head down, never acknowledging him, so wrapped up in her work or answering her phone.

So, Peeta asked around.

“She’s an ice queen,” Cato, who was in Marketing, informed him. “Never wants to hang out with anyone or even join in during happy hour. It’s important here to form relationships with everyone. Panem Industries is all about workplace harmony and Katniss embodies none of that.”

“Yeah, she’s snooty, too,” Clove from IT added. “I once asked her something about her family and she replied that it was none of my business. Like I was just trying to get to know her!”

“Wow. I guess if Katniss is that much of a head case, then I shouldn’t bother to ask her for help,” he told the two.

After that, during any interaction, she treated him indifferently…cold even. Peeta couldn’t help but be disappointed that Cato and Clove’s words were true.

And that was the end of his fascination with Katniss Everdeen.

“You want to get out here and help me or was the ice machine too hard for you to maneuver?” Katniss suddenly called out.

Peeta quickly filled the bucket and stepped out.

Katniss was bent over the couch, arranging the pillows, and he felt a heat rush through his skin.

There was also the slight twinge in his crotch at seeing a firm apple-bottom in tight ski pants.

It seemed that Katniss Everdeen had a bigger effect on him than he realized.

++++++

Peeta Mellark had a huge effect on her.

Katniss struggled to keep the heat off her cheeks as she fixed the pillows that she bought for the cabin. Effie loved those cheesy sayings, so she went on Etsy and ordered custom-made pillows with her favorite quotes.

No one should spend so much time arranging pillows, but Katniss could feel his stare on her. It made her nervous…and tingly.

However, these feelings didn’t belong—especially in a work situation and she needed this job.

Taking a breath, Katniss turned…to find Peeta right behind her.

He jumped back, startled by her abrupt movements.

Whoa—was he checking her out?

“Why were you so close?” she blurted out.

“Sorry. It looked like you were confused about how pillows worked,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “You were there for a millennium.”

“Funny.” She sighed at the amusement in his gorgeous blue eyes—stop it!—and steeled her expression. “Do you think you could help me set up this romantic dinner for our bosses instead of standing there like an ass-licker?”

“You mean asshole.”

“I stand by my words,” Katniss replied and was surprised when he chuckled, his eyes crinkling as he did. She couldn’t help but let her mouth rise. “The table is in that closet next to the door. I got some table linens from a vintage shop that Effie likes last week.”

“Wow, you’re really on top of it,” Peeta remarked, going to the closet. “How do you have time for a life?”

She didn’t.

As in, Katniss didn’t have a life.

She had work, she had a home, but a social life was non-existent. Katniss knew what everyone said about her; that she was cold and distant, never wanting to be part of the team. It never bothered her because she did have her reasons.

So, she was surprised at how hurt she was when she heard Peeta call her a headcase.

Katniss hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, only passing the breakroom to get to the copy machine. However, she stopped at the mention of her name.

Cato’s words were no surprise, though he failed to mention that her iciness was due to him inappropriately putting his arm around her and telling her that they should get to know each other on a personal level. Katniss also didn’t trust Clove for shit; she was the office gossip.

It hit hard to know that the one person who had made her tingle was so easily influenced by two douchebags.

Katniss had decided, then and there, that if Peeta didn’t see past her exterior, then he must be like the rest of them.

“I’m very organized,” she replied. It came out harder than she intended. “I have to be.”

Peeta had already set up the table in front of the fireplace.

“Well, it’s in your favor,” he told her. “You’re a good assistant.”

Katniss looked up in surprise. “You think I’m a good assistant?”

Peeta snorted. “Like you didn’t know it—where are the tablecloths?”

She handed him a beautiful fuchsia tablecloth followed by a cream lace one.

“Fuchsia first then layer it with the lace,” she told him. “I always hope I am. Effie is a great boss and she’s so supportive about work-and-homelife balance. I want to make sure this is all perfect for her.”

Katniss helped Peeta straighten the cloth, smoothing it down and making sure that there were no wrinkles. They settled into a light conversation about working with their respective bosses while setting the rest of the table. While Peeta worked on the place settings, he told her about how he admired Haymitch’s down-to-earth attitude despite being one of the most successful people in the company.

She arranged the florals in the center of the table while telling him how she had worked two jobs prior to getting this one.

“I was a waitress and housekeeper before this,” she revealed. “I was working a crazy lunch rush when I met Effie. We got to talking because she noticed how I met her coffee exactly the way she liked it despite my ragged expression—her words not mine. Effie kept on coming in, and a month after we met, she offered me the assistant job. Said she like my gumption.”

“That’s really cool,” Peeta said. He set down one of the forks he was cleaning and met her eyes. “You know, this is the first time we’ve really talked. I kind of believed you thought of me as your enemy.”

“I thought the same thing.” Katniss placed a folded napkin on the plate in front of her. “You called me a head case.”

His blue eyes widened, shocked at her words. Slowly, she could see in his eyes, the memory of his words.

“I didn’t know you heard that,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean it and I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine!” Katniss stood up abruptly. The pain of his words churned in her stomach. “I know that everyone talks about me. In my defense, Cato was completely inappropriate when we first met. I thought acting like a bitch would stave him off. Clove has no filter—”

Peeta’s brows furrowed at her sudden coldness.

“I realize that now—one year later…is that why you completely ignore me? Why you act like the sight of me makes you sick?”

“I do not!” Katniss cried out into the room. “You avoid me at all costs!”

“Because the one time that I attempted to ask you a question—you brushed me aside!” he shouted. “If you had bothered to talk to me, I wouldn’t have believed what people said in the first place—” Peeta’s phone rang, and he quickly picked up, seeing his boss’ face on his screen. “Haymitch? You on your way? What? No, I haven’t looked outside—”

Katniss rushed to one of the front windows, pulling back the curtain.

White everywhere.

She couldn’t even see her car and it was bright fucking red!

“They’re not coming.”

Turning, Katniss found Peeta putting his phone in his pocket as he approached.

“The snowstorm came unexpectedly, and the roads are blocked. They’re staying at Effie’s to wait it out while we…are stuck here until it passes.”

++++++

The good thing was that the house was fully equipped. Food was stocked in the fridge since the couple had planned to stay for the long weekend. Both he and Katniss had even brought Haymitch and Effie’s luggage so there had clothing.

“Well, dinner must be ready,” Katniss informed him with a sigh. “If you want to get more comfortable, you can probably change to something of Haymitch’s. I have a call to make before my phone dies and then I’ll pull the food out of the oven.”

Peeta nodded numbly, grabbing Haymitch's duffle and going to the opposite open door where the bedroom was. He tossed the bag on the bed—

The one bed.

Turning, he rushed out of the room to look for his female counterpart. “Katniss!” He found the sitting room empty and headed into the kitchen.

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” she spoke quietly into the phone. “Just be nice to Johanna, okay? I’ll be home soon.” Her voice sounded completely different, light and happy—even affectionate. “I love you, too. Good night.”

He knocked on the archway and she turned to him.

“We have a problem,” he told her. “There’s only one bed.”

“And the couch is really just a loveseat,” Katniss mused as she pulled the food—steak with roasted asparagus and potatoes. Her expression was pained, and she blew out a breath. “I don’t really want to think about this right now. Why don’t we just eat?”

Peeta quickly nodded in agreement, rushing to the sitting room, and grabbing their plates.

“Why don’t you let me set this up?” he told her, seeing how frazzled she seemed. “Have a seat. Open the champagne—”

Katniss laughed and the sound of her lightened the load on his chest.

“You trying to get me drunk, Mellark?”

Peeta smirked. “If it makes you like me, then yes.”

“Fine, fine…” Katniss sauntered off towards the doorway. She stopped at the archway and their eyes met. Her gaze was nervous, but he could see the warmth in her greys. “You’re not my enemy, Peeta. And…I like you more than you think.”

Katniss disappeared, but not before he spied the blush on her cheeks.

Peeta felt another twinge. This time—in his chest.

++++++

Instead of sitting at the table, Katniss grabbed Effie’s luggage, a classic Louis Vuitton that cost more than her old Jeep, and brought it to the bedroom.

The one bedroom. With the one bed.

A sudden image of herself spooned contentedly against Peeta in that very bed rose in her mind—

“Stop tripping off him!” she chided herself.

Distractedly, Katniss opened the bag, sorting for something remotely comfortable in her boss’ luggage. However, it looked like Effie was expecting some sort of kinky weekend. The only sleepwear she had was a tiny red number that Katniss would probably bust out of; Effie was a tiny but fierce woman.

Maybe she could borrow something from Haymitch’s pile—

“Katniss?”

“I’m coming!” she called out before stuffing Effie’s lingerie back into the back.

Walking back into the room, Katniss saw that Peeta had already placed the plates on the table. He stood waiting for her, looking obnoxiously handsome as he had the day they met.

That first time, she had knocked him to the ground so caught up in following with Effie’s rapid pace. When Katniss held out her hand to him, she was caught up in the open smile he gave her. Then it was the gold waves along his forehead, which Katniss desperately wanted to brush back and the blue of his eyes—they had a tinge of grey in them.

For a moment, she was just a girl, and he was just a boy. Peeta didn’t know anything about the rumors of her iciness or how someone like her, with no college degree, managed to get a position like hers.

In that moment, Katniss was pure.

“You alright?” Peeta asked, interrupting her moment down memory lane.

“Yes.” She let him help her into her seat. “I was just thinking about something.”

“Was it the one bed thing?” he joked. “I’m fine with sleeping on the floor—”

Katniss held her hand up. “Let’s be grownups. It’s a big bed and we can put a pillow between us.”

“Very to the point,” Peeta replied, holding up his champagne glass. “To being grown-ups.”

“To being grown-ups.” She clinked her glass to his and took a full gulp. The liquid bubbled through her, making her laugh. “Wow, that’s some good shit.”

Peeta guffawed. “We’re going to have some fun.”

END OF PART ONE

[little-mad]

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 11

~ Previous Part ~ Next Part ~

Gavin wouldn’t really say he was a good judge of character, the amount of friends in low places he had was a testament to that. However, even he could tell that this new alteon that had appeared was bad news.

There was something about the way the guy held himself--it was cocky and arrogant, as if he was certain he was the most important person in the room. Not to mention the sleazy little smile he was wearing that seemed to promise trouble. But what Gavin hated most was the way the guy looked at him. It was hard to describe, but the only thing Gavin could think of to equate it to was how middle school bullies looked right before they were about to trip some poor kid in the hallway.

The green-eyed giant had been speaking in the same language that Gavin had heard a couple times throughout his time in the alteon dimension. Of course, he couldn’t understand any of it, which made him nervous for some reason.

“Not really much to look at, is he?” the new alteon remarked, now switching to English. “I know all humans are pretty pathetic, but I was expecting someone a bit tougher looking.”

Gavin scowled. This guy had intentionally alternated to speaking in a language Gavin could understand so that he would be able to hear the insult. Why was he being purposefully antagonistic? Yeah sure, Gavin was a criminal, but even Rael hadn’t been that big of a dick at first.

“Ashryn, I suppose you’re stationed here? Rael inquired. Gavin could tell he was trying to change the subject, to shift this “Ashryn” guy’s attention elsewhere.

“Why can’t he just tell this asshole to screw off?” Gavin thought to himself crankily. He tried to catch Rael’s eye but was unsuccessful. It was like he was very intentionally keeping his eyes up and forward.

“Hmm? Oh yes, that’s right,” Ashryn responded absentmindedly. He was apparently too preoccupied with staring at Gavin to give Rael his full attention.

What was it with these alteons and staring unabashedly? Just because Gavin was a comparatively tiny person from an alternate dimension didn’t mean they had the right to gawk at him like he was some sort of zoo animal. It was like all their manners flew out the window when it came to humans.

Ashryn stepped closer, a crafty smile still on his lips. “This is your first time dealing with a human up close, isn’t it?” he said to Rael while still not looking away from Gavin. “You don’t really realize how entirely inferior they are until you get close to them,” he continued. “Sure they look tiny and pathetic from afar, but up close you can really get a sense for how insignificant they are.”

Gavin really didn’t have a short temper, it was one of his few good traits actually. For the most part, he’d learned to just brush off insults and move on. He had given up on being well liked the moment he decided to become a thief. However, even Gavin’s temper had its limits, and he had just about reached his.

Springing to his feet, Gavin glared up at the massive elf-eared bastard standing in front of him. “What’s your problem?” he demanded, hands clenched in fists at his sides.

If this guy really wanted to insult Gavin and the rest of humanity so badly, why couldn’t he do it in his own native language? Oh yeah, because he was a complete ass. Ashryn didn’t just want to disparage humans, he wanted Gavin to know about it. For whatever reason, this alteon had decided he wanted to start a fight.

Next to Gavin, Rael had tensed up. The human hardly even noticed, he was too busy shooting daggers at Ashryn. Besides, Gavin was none too pleased with Rael at the moment anyways. He was basically just letting his comrade, or whatever they were to each other, run his mouth freely.

The grin on Ashryn’s face grew only wider at Gavin’s outburst. He took a step closer. “Rael, I think I’ve angered your little human,” he commented with a chuckle.

Gavin didn’t wait to see how Rael would’ve responded. Forget getting him to defend him. Who cared if Gavin was miniscule compared to Ashryn? He was going to stand up for himself. Someone needed to teach these giants some manners. Gavin was already in trouble, so it might as well be him.

“Okay you big, pointy-eared asshole,” he started with a bang. “Just because you’re bigger than humans doesn’t make you better than us--in fact with an attitude like yours, I’d argue you’re substantially worse than most humans I know...and I know some pretty shitty humans.” The words were flying out of his mouth almost of their own accord. It was like he’d opened a floodgate that he couldn’t close. “You’re clearly just a pompous dick who--”

“Enough!” The words echoed around him like thunder. At the same time there was a rush of air, a flash of movement, and then a thud that vibrated up through Gavin’s feet.

It took a moment for him to register the giant hand next to him, and a few more moments for him to realize it had just slammed down beside him. Gavin looked up, following the arm connected to the hand, expecting to see it attached to Ashryn. Instead, he was met with the rage filled face of Rael.

And then all of a sudden he was back in that clearing, pinned under a hand bigger than his entire body. The fear, the intimidation, the betrayal--it was all the same, probably even worse now actually. The worst part was that he didn’t understand, he didn’t understand why Rael was staring down at him with nothing but fury in his teal colored eyes.

Despite their turbulent relationship, Gavin had...well he had come to trust Rael. For god’s sake, he’d nearly considered the alteon to be something akin to a friend. So why...why had this happened? How had Gavin screwed this up?

“You will show some respect,” Rael growled down at him, and it was like Gavin was looking at a completely different person to the one he’d been talking to only a few minutes ago.

-

Why had he been put in this situation? Why did the guard outside the office have to be Ashryn? Why did Gavin have to snap like that? These questions swirled around inside Rael’s head as he looked down at the fearful human standing mere inches away from where he’d slammed his palm down on the bench.

“You had to do it,” a dark part of Rael’s mind told him. “If you hadn’t, Ashryn would never respect you, and he’d defame you to the entire Imperial Guard.” It was true--if Rael had failed to scold the human that was in his charge after he’d blatantly insulted an alteon soldier, he would be viewed as a failure among anyone who was anyone. Still, he hadn’t enjoyed doing it.

It wasn’t like last time, when Rael had trapped Gavin under his hand. There was no sense of satisfaction or pleasure derived from the action. All he could feel was a mess of anger and guilt.

He was furious that Ashryn had essentially manufactured the situation, but he was also angry with Gavin for quite literally forcing his hand. If the human had just kept his mouth shut, if he’d ignored Ashryn’s goading, then none of this would have happened. Why couldn’t Gavin have just made things easier?

“Well,” Ashryn spoke up with an appreciative tut. “I must say, you certainly know how to put a human in their place.”

Rael shifted his gaze towards the alteon. He couldn’t stand looking at Gavin anymore, seeing the fear and betrayal in those hazel eyes only deepened the heavy pit that was forming in his stomach.

“And you apparently know how to rile them up,” Rael muttered as he moved his hand away from Gavin and placed it back on his own lap.

Ashryn gave an amused chuckle. “Maybe so,” he answered with a satisfied grin on his face.

Despite having a primarily amicable relationship with one another, Rael had never much liked Ashryn. While they were about the same age and had gone through most of their training at the same time, Ashryn was regarded more highly within the Imperial Guard. Rael attributed this largely due to the fact that Ashryn’s family has had a long history of involvement with the Guard. Perhaps that also explained why the man was so pompous and smug all the time.

It was then that the door to the Emperor’s office opened for a second time. This time, it was a group of some of the top Imperial advisors exiting. They all eyed Gavin as they passed, however none of them said anything, only acknowledging the two soldiers with brief nods. Rael noticed that the last advisor out failed to close the door behind her, leaving him with a view inside the office.

There, sitting at his desk, was the Emperor of the entire realm of Iaela. He wore a calm smile on lips and waved a beckoning hand at Rael. “Bring in our human guest,” he called, his tone authoritative yet somehow still polite.

Ashryn was quick to assume his position beside the office door. He stood up straight, his arms behind his back like a perfect soldier. However, the part that the Emperor wouldn’t be able to see was his face--with that, Ashryn smirked over at Gavin. “Why does he look like he knows something that we don’t?” Unfortunately, there was no time for Rael to ruminate on his uncertainties. The Emperor was the very last person to be kept waiting.

Rael turned to Gavin. The human had gone pale and his body was so tense that it looked like the guy might bolt at any second. Rael was sure that the last thing Gavin wanted was to be picked up after what had just happened. However, there was no choice. There wasn’t even time for Rael to allow the human to walk onto his palm of his own accord.

As gently as possible, Rael carefully scooped the human up into his hands. Thankfully, Gavin didn’t put up any kind of fight; he gave a quiet gasp, but otherwise made no audible complaints. Once Rael was sure he wouldn’t drop the little man, he began to make his way into the Emperor’s office.

Immediately upon getting past the doorway, Rael felt a whoosh of air and heard a soft thud, indicating that the door had been shut behind them. This left him and Gavin entirely alone with the most powerful person in the realm.

This wouldn’t be Rael’s first time speaking with the Emperor, however it was certainly his first time alone, without any advisors, scribes, or guards around. Rael swallowed hard. He couldn’t mess this up--he had to prove himself to be a proper soldier worthy of being accepted into the ranks of the Imperial Guard. He wasn’t a peasant anymore, he was a proud, noble soldier.

“Rael, correct?” the Emperor inquired, the name sounded so foreign coming from his lips.

Rael nodded silently as he dipped into a low bow, which proved somewhat difficult while keeping his hands horizontal and steady for Gavin.

“Very well, Rael, could you place that human on my desk please?”

(Also, as a side note, I fixed up some continuity errors in chapters 6 and 9 if you feel like skimming through and seeing the minor adjustments)

[thenerdyindividual]

Okay so yesterday @sterlingdylan made this awesome analysis post about BBC Merlin, stating that it was neither Arthur’s nor Merlin’s fault that Merlin didn’t reveal his magic, something I 100% agree with.

Unfortunately, this post also got derailed by a discussion comparing Arthur’s attitudes to homophobia. Now, to be clear, I do think there are some parallels there. Writers will look to real world bigotry in order to write their fantasy bigotry better. For BBC Merlin, the bigotry does feel a lot like homophobia because magic is: a part of the characters and not something they chose, something the characters must hide or be put in danger, something characters worry makes them evil/monsters, etc. However, parallels are not the same thing as an allegory.  If we try to take BBC Merlin as a direct allegory for homophobia it falls apart because there are genuine reasons for people to be afraid of magic in the canon because it can and has killed people, controlled people, and hurt people. Queer people can’t do any of that with their queerness. Our queerness is fundamentally harmless, whereas magic is not. Also, as sterlingdylan discussed last night, if we take it as an allegory it sets up a concerning narrative about “closeted” Merlin being good, and “out” other characters being bad. Which is injecting a really extreme and problematic moral into the show, and not something we as an audience should be placing on the shoulders of the writers.

I don’t think we need to take BBC Merlin as an allegory for anything, It is enough to discuss parallels to our lives, and examine how the bigotry functions in the context of the show itself. But If we are going to be comparing it as directly as possible to something in our daily lives, then it would probably be more accurate as a narrative about extremism and essentialism. It is still an imperfect comparison because usually extremism and essentialism are not founded on genuine concern, but stick with me. It gets long so the essay is going under the cut.

Uther experienced the death of his wife at the hands of magic. Now, we know that he and Ygraine asked Nimueh for help conceiving. Whether they fully knew the cost or if Nimueh downplayed it is neither here nor there. What is relevant is that Uther was given proof of magic’s ability to harm him and the people he loved. Now, someone who did not hold the black and white “The King is always right” attitude might have taken this instance and pushed for regulation of magic rather than a ban. However, as we witness in later episodes in which he locks up his own children for defying him, Uther can never admit he was wrong so rather than say it was a bad idea to use magic in the way he did, he convinced himself that it wasn’t him who made the mistake, but that magic itself was an inherently evil corrupting force, and started the purge. He took an extreme oppositional view towards magic.

On the flip side, much of the narrative of the magic half of this battle is also about extremism. They are, rightfully, infuriated by and afraid of Uther, but they also let their anger at Uther shade their perception of Arthur. Morgana, starting in season one, was already set against Uther, but was not yet set against Arthur. However, when she met Morgause her train of thought went from justice, to revenge against Uther, to a desire for power, and finally a deep desire to see Arthur dead. Perhaps in some way Morgause really does care about creating a just world for magic users, but she clearly also has a desire for power (as seem when she encourages Morgana to stage a coup and take the throne for herself instead of try to teach Arthur, when he’s demonstrated before a willingness not to lock step with Uther) which are two things that aren’t compatible.

Morgause encourages Morgana to see the worst in the people around her, and encourages her to give into acts of extreme violence against people who don’t necessarily deserve it (ie all the peasants she was prepared to starve when they disagreed with her when she took the throne at the end of season three. A move remarkably similar to something Uther would have done). Morgana no longer stops to consider the times that Arthur stood against Uther, and comes to view Arthur not as someone who can be shown the bigger picture, but as someone inherently against magic rather than the violence it can do. This cycle does not stop with Morgana either, it also reaches Kara who refuses to see the good in Arthur even though he has shown his willingness to make peace with members of the Old Religion (druids), and was prepared to let her get away with attempted murder simply because Mordred and Merlin asked him to show her mercy.

Kara and Morgana both have come to view Arthur as inherently violent and set against magic the same way Uther came to see magic as inherently violent and set against Camelot. Neither of which are accurate views on the situation.

Arthur is the one who was prophesied to break this cycle of extremism and essentialism, and we can see him attempt to try. There are multiple occasions in which he considers that magic may not be evil. Off the top of my head there is the scene after Morgause reveals the true circumstance of his birth, the scene in which he allows Dragoon to attempt to heal Uther, and the scene where he asks Merlin if he should legalize magic in order to save Mordred. In all of these cases someone (usually Merlin) prevents him from exploring that thought deeper. Even so, he does make great strides towards taking up the proper nuanced view needed for this situation. He takes Camelot from a kingdom that relentlessly hunts down and persecutes magic, to a kingdom of fair trials and peace with druids.

Sadly, no one can meet him in the middle. Morgause and Morgana’s insistence on trying to take him down and harm the people closest to him prevents Arthur from learning the good aspects of magic just as much as Uther’s propaganda did. Merlin is the only sorcerer in the entire show not to be set against Arthur, and therefore the only one who could show Arthur how to break this cycle, but doing so presents no small risk to his own and Arthur’s safety. If Arthur took it badly and either banished or executed him, it would effectively prevent Merlin from protecting him. This leaves Arthur trying to draw his own conclusions, and he never gets the additional information that magic can, and is, used for beauty and healing. He can only operate on what he has seen, and what he has seen is magic being used against himself and Camelot repeatedly.

Arthur can’t be held responsible for not incorporating information he isn’t given into his view on magic, and Merlin can’t be held responsible for not risking himself to teach Arthur. We can, however, hold the people around them responsible for creating an environment that prevents Arthur from learning on his own, and prevents Merlin from teaching him. The fault lies primarily with Uther for kicking this whole chain of events off in the first place, and in Morgause who co-opted a genuine struggle in order to gain power. Morgana is also responsible for letting her view of Arthur (someone she has seen stand for justice) be corrupted. In the end the fault lies neither with Arthur, nor with Merlin. The fault lies in the very human tendency to view the world in black and white, and react with violence against those deemed dangerous (despite how much that title is or is not earned).

[bangtans-bubs]

BTS Reaction #4: When you fight another female idol at MAMA’s

-/-

a/n: Hey army! How have y’all been? Just an FYI, I MAY have gotten carried away with some of these, which is why they’re lengthier than others. THAT DOESN’T MEAN I DON’T LIKE THE MEMBERS EQUALLY, OKAY?! I’ve been a little caught up with school work, so my apologies if your requests are taking a while. Anyways, I’ve been working on a couple requests, so feel free to submit any ideas :)

warning: just the usual ‘wanna beat a bitch up’ vibe + a few dirty remarks

word count: 200 - 390 (per member)

*creds to gif owners

-/-

> Kim Namjoon (RM)

He has always made sure to keep you controlled when you get angry to the point where you’ll start throwing hands. It’s either he asks you to breathe in and breath out, or his 6 feet figure will find its way in front of you and will take all your blows instead of the girl. The problem started when you spotted Namjoon’s ex making faces at you when you both were taking pictures together for the paparazzi. Namjoon had caught onto what had quickened your breathing and asked for you to calm damn. As much as you wanted to be the bigger person in this situation, you really couldn’t have her acting like every time she sees you two. So, once you had passed by the paparazzi, you walked straight towards her and Namjoon did try to latch onto your wrist, but you were too quick.

“Are you 5 years old or something?” You squinted your eyes as you questioned her, your chest still heaving from before. She let out a dry scoff before she began laughing. How does this bitch have the audacity to laugh after making faces those faces?

“Can’t believe I got under your skin, Y/n,” she retorted with a peak in her tone. Before she knew it, you had punched her right in her jaw, knocking her off her feet within seconds. Before you could throw more punches, Namjoon had dashed to your side and retained you, quickly taking you away from the messy scene. Once he brought you to a more private setting, he leant down to your eye level and huskily whispered, “I thought you were only frisky in bed, but you’re frisky during fights too now, huh?”

> Kim Seokjin 

Jin was hosting the Mama’s Music Awards with Irene and when they were joking around, she made a snide remark about how he was dating someone that was in the music industry. Jin always had his way of putting people in their spot, and he did do that by saying, “Even if she was an idol, my eyes would still be on her. Don’t be jealous that you’re not her.”

The audience laughed at his nasty remark thinking he unintentionally insulted Irene, but only you, Irene and the other BTS members knew that comment was personal. After the show was done, you excused yourself from the BTS group and went your own way, trying to find Irene. Jin knew what your intentions were and asked for you to not physically fight her, but just say a few words that’ll be imprinted in her mind. Within seconds of splitting from the boys, you ran into Irene. Perfect. You thought she would speak in an un-provocative manner, but she was speaking as if she wanted to throw hands, so you did just that. After a minute or so, Jin and the others heard screams that sounded like someone was in pain. Jin and the others turned the corner to see Irene and you tangled up on the floor, your hands clawing at her face as she did the same. Jin wasn’t going to do anything, but he noticed how you had a bruise welling up on your right arm and quickly came to pry you out. Oh, how hard it was for him to not break into a fit of laughter after noticing how she was splayed across the floor like a rag doll. Since he’s a gentleman, he helped Irene up before he took you to his dressing room.

“How come you listen to me when I teach you about fighting, but when I tell you something in bed, you become rebellious, jagi?”

> Min Yoongi (Suga) 

He has the nerve to sit back and relax after he pissed you off to the point where you wanted to drag that girl by her hair. He knows that you get a slight bit possessive when a girl gets handsy with him, especially when he doesn’t acknowledge it happening. What you thought was a fan of his was just another female idol. You weren’t going to do much about it, but she became very touchy within seconds and he had no idea what her intentions were. You glared at him in hopes of him taking it as a signal to move away from her, but he didn’t. He just smirked. That mother fucker is doing this on purpose, isn’t he? Your eyes never left his for what felt like an eternity, all while the girl was still feeling him up and she knew he was already dating someone. You walked towards the hungry lady and decided to pull Suga away from her, but she then hooked her arm around his and began arguing with you without knowing that you were his girlfriend. She was asking for a lot of your patience and you weren’t going to give her any. You just pried her arm away from his and pulled him towards the staircase, but she had the nerves to push you. You didn’t even throw hands yet, but your quick movements had caused her to flinch and topple over. You and Suga tried to hold in your laughter, but the way she had acted big  only to end up falling caused both of you to break. Once the both of you were seated, he didn’t even think twice before he said, “I didn’t expect myself to become hot and bothered by you tonight, baby. Especially by that.”

> Jung Hoseok (J-Hope/Hobi) 

He hates confrontations, even if he’s a bystander. He’d be surprised at first by your aggressiveness towards the girl, but then he’d remember that it was one of the reasons you had caught his attention. As much as he’d love to see the fight go down, he didn’t want to give you the chance of swinging or insulting the girl. Since he’s respectful, he’ll apologize to the girl on behalf of you, even if she’s the one at fault, and that enrages you every time. You were already fuming over the fact this girl spoke shit about BTS, but Hobi apologizing to her had caused you to shift your anger towards him. He had a steady hold around your arm, but you still managed to pull out of his grip and angrily brushed past him. He gave you a couple of minutes to cool down because he knows you’re mad to the point you’ll swing at anybody that tries to speak to you, especially him. He came up a few minutes later and said, “I know you’re mad at me, baby. You don’t have to say yes, but why don’t we go home and have a little fun of your own?”

> Park Jimin 

The way you’d fire back at someone if they dare to speak bad on Jimin’s name always gave him a thrill. He won’t stop you unless he thinks you blew a gasket for no absolute reason. He also doesn’t bother to stop you from beating a bitch up if he hates her guts. In this case, the girl on the receiving end of your brawl was none other than Twice’s Jeongyeon. When you followed closely behind Jimin, past the beautiful Twice idols, you heard Jeongyeon mumble, “Disgusting,” under her breath. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned your attention towards her, untwining your hands from Jimin’s.

“Please. If you’re going to talk shit speak up.” Jimin saw how your relaxed face had molded to fit an angry expression and how intimidating your voice had gotten. He noticed how quickly your dominant attitude had turned him on, and that’s because he’s usually the dominant one in bed, so you barely get a chance to show this side. He snapped out of his thoughts when he saw a chunk of Jeongyeon’s black extensions fly past his face. He didn’t know how long he’d been lost in his train of dirty thoughts, but it was enough time for you to drag Jeongyeon to the ground before you began clawing at her. As the security guards rushed to pull Jeongyeon away from your death grip, Jimin pulled you into his embrace and had you locked into place. He excused both of you from the scene before he sat you down in your assigned seat. You noticed how he had a sly smirk splayed across his face, but before you can question him, he whispered, “I’m curious to find out if I can handle this heated side of you in bed.”

> Kim Taehyung (V)

He loves drama. He’d even take part in one if he hears his name come up once. For you, he’d just stay back and watch how his girl would rip someone badly if they ever did something with bad intentions. He felt more dominant when he sees your aggressive side because there’s no way he’d allow you to win an argument or fight against him. If you fought another person, he’d just rest back and watch what happens. He’s seen you blow a punch at a man, instantly knocking him out, so he doesn’t worry about you losing a fight. Another incident where he saw you throw hands at a female idol was at the MAMA’s show. You were minding your own business when someone came up to Taehyung and said, “Don’t be full of yourself just because you were ranked #1 as the most handsome Kpop idol.”

He was surprised at her words at first, but then began laughing because she was unaware of what she just started. You stepped in between her and Taehyung and were all up in her face.

“Repeat that.” When you noticed her hold her breath, you thought that was the end of that situation, but she provoked you by repeating her saying. To make it worse for herself, she annunciated the words ‘full of yourself’, almost standing on her tiptoes to reach your eye level. You let out a dry chuckle before you tried swinging, but Taehyung got in front of you, stopping you from fighting for the first time. When your eyes met his for a second, you noticed how dilated his dark brown pupils, but you were too concentrated on landing your blows. You tried to move around him to try to get the girl, but he kept moving with you. When he couldn’t restrain you for any longer, he just threw you over his shoulders and brought you to the nearest restroom. Thankfully, the women’s restroom was empty, so you were able to pace around like a mad man. You heard the click of the door locking and noticed how Taehyung’s fingers were playing with his belt buckle. He slowly made his way to you, not breaking his deep gaze at you. He glanced down at his crotch before he looked at you and gruffly whispered, “You have to fix this problem first, baby.”

> Jeon Jungkook 

He’s the type to lay back and watch what unveils in front of him. If he thinks you’re going to make a blood bath, he’ll be quick to pull you away, unless he thinks the bitch deserves it. If that’s the case, then he’ll just be your own hype man and he’ll instruct you on how to swing and what move to pull. He’ll try his best to avoid any incident that would cause you to react this way, but he couldn’t do anything this time because the bitch you were referring to was his celebrity crush, IU. He didn’t think much of it when IU began running her hands over his muscular arms, but when he noticed you glaring at him, he was quick to push her away and politely told her that he’s uncomfortable. She still insisted on touching him, so you decided to give her a taste of her own medicine. When Jungkook saw you storm past the others towards IU, he quickly managed to get between you both, dragging you away to avoid an MMA fight at the MAMA’s show.

“As much as I wanted to see how that played out, I can’t afford to let you mess up that precious face for me, baby.”

*requests are open

[ibijau]

Price of wishes pt7 / on AO3

Lan Xichen meets his new relatives in the Cloud Recesses

Lan Xichen gazes upon the gates of the Cloud Recesses, and feels… 

Not scared, not quite, but nervous certainly. The more he travelled with Nie Huaisang and his brother's disciples, the more Lan Xichen became struck by how much the world has changed while he was clinging to his last believers and trying to survive. Towns are bigger, houses are more durable, people from different places mix, and they sell as common things items that he remembers being rare luxuries. 

The world has changed, and Lan Xichen is striving not to show how unsettled he feels. 

And then, there's this writing business. Out of every passing fashion that had to stick around… 

In spite of how he feels about this writing fad, Lan Xichen has been trying his best to learn. Trying isn’t succeeding. Lan Xichen can read some characters, and he knows certain texts thanks to Nie Huaisang’s efforts, but it simply isn’t enough to maintain the illusion of the person he is supposed to be.

Hopefully, Nie Huaisang’s other plan will work.

The Lan disciple guarding the gate is startled when he's told that the young master of his sect has returned, but by the time Lan Xichen asks that his uncle be warned he lost his jade token in an incident, that young man in white has already accepted his existence. It's not surprising, not when Lan Xichen has already convinced Nie Mingjue whose mind is much stronger, but it's still a relief. 

The Lan disciple dutifully sends a message to master Lan Qiren who arrives quite fast to the gate, followed closely by a boy whose features are eerily similar to Lan Xichen. He got that much right, it seems. 

Lan Xichen bows politely before the man who is now his uncle, the boy who he will call his brother for a full mortal lifetime, and smiles at both of them. He can feel for a moment their doubts about his presence, forming a stronger wall than Nie Mingjue’s did, but he only needs to absorb some of Nie Huaisang’s belief in him to make that wall crumble. It is not hard at all, and Lan Xichen can’t help but feel that those two are almost relieved by his intrusion in their lives.

It was the same with Nie Mingjue. He might act tough and stern, but he is young, not ten years older than Nie Huaisang. He’s also as desperate for company as his brother but in a position that forbids him from seeking out new friends. And now, as Lan Qiren caves into the invasion, Lan Xichen gets a flash of gratitude, because having a nearly fully adult nephew means someone he can rely on. Lan Qiren, like Nie Mingjue, is a lonely man, and shouldn’t be so resigned to it at such a young age.

“You weren’t supposed to be gone this long,” Lan Qiren scolds his nephew. “You should have been here a while ago to help prepare the arrival of the guest disciples. And what's this I hear about your token being lost?”

Nie Huaisang, unnoticed by nearly everyone, lets out a shaky breath.

“My apologies, shufu,” Lan Xichen says with another bow. “A few things came up while I was gone that delayed my return. In fact, I would like to speak to you about this immediately, if you have the time. Wangji as well, this will concern him. And… I think it might be good if Nie gongzi came as well.”

Lan Wangji, exactly as silent and austere as Nie Huaisang described him, stares at his brand new brother with emotionless eyes. When those eyes turn to Nie Huaisang though, they let a certain curiosity shine through, to which Nie Huaisang reacts by turning a little pink and averting his eyes. But no objection is made to Lan Xichen’s request, and they all retire to the house Lan Qiren shares with his nephew for a private conversation.

It is not an unpleasant place. Austere but elegant, as everything appears to be in the Cloud Recesses. One thing immediately attracts Lan Xichen’s attention: the number of books. This house alone appears to contain as many as all of Qinghe Nie’s library. This makes Nie Huaisang’s panic over Lan Xichen’s inability to read all the more understandable. If the entire sect is similar to Lan Qiren, then Lan Xichen’s meagre powers might not be enough to counter their surprise at a young master who cannot read fluently.

Tea is poured as refreshment for the travellers, and all four of them sit down. Lan Qiren allows his new nephew a moment to drink, then asks again about the delay in returning.

"The situation is this," Lan Xichen explains. "While I was away, something happened and I lost all my memories. I cannot be sure what it was exactly, but I do not appear to have any physical marks on me, nor did I detect anything that would indicate a curse. All I know for sure is that I barely knew who I was when this started."

His new relatives are startled at the news, especially Lan Wangji who glances at Nie Huaisang in a silent question, but with the slightest of push on Lan Xichen’s part they do not think of doubting that story.

"As I wandered, I stumbled upon the Unclean Realm where Nie Mingjue welcomed me and treated me as if we knew each other. I played along and didn't mention my predicament. I thought Nie Mingjue did not feel like an enemy, but I didn't know how much to trust my instincts. After a while, Nie Huaisang realised something was wrong, encouraged me to share my secret with him, and agreed to help me hide this for the time being. We both feared someone might try to take advantage, should my situation be revealed."

"A wise decision," Lan Qiren agreed, a severe expression on his face as he stroked his beard. "It is lucky you wandered into friendly territory, when others might have been less kind than the Nie." 

Meaning the Wen sect, Lan Xichen guesses. There's a feud of sorts between the Wens and the Nie, he understands, but really the whole cultivation world appears scared of them. 

"Our thanks to Nie gongzi for his help," Lan Qiren says. 

"Mn," Lan Wangji agrees, cramming a surprising amount of emotion in that single sound. Or maybe it is the way he's looking at Nie Huaisang, his pale eyes intense and sharp. 

Nie Huaisang blushes intensely and squirms a little, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, or perhaps with being praised over something that never happened. To rescue him from his discomfort, Lan Xichen promptly continues.

“The memory loss is actually rather severe,” he explained. “We are still figuring out what I can and cannot remember. While I was in Qinghe, I dared not say too much to Nie zongzhu, even after deciding he was friendly, because I couldn’t be sure of the extent of that friendship, and I knew I had to think of my sect’s safety. But after making me confess the truth on the way here, Nie gongzi has been of great help in figuring out just how much I have lost. He happened to have with him a number of texts concerning our rules and customs which he shared with me, though I must confess reading is not easy at this time. It causes me terrible headaches after even a very short while.”

Hearing this, Lan Qiren’s concern only grows, marking him to Lan Xichen as a far warmer person than Nie Huaisang prepared him for. Not that he blames his young friend for his judgement: it is not unexpected for a man to behave differently toward a student than he would with a relative, especially when the student is Nie Huaisang, who has made it clear that learning does not come easily to him.

Worried for this nephew he’d never met just half a shichen earlier, Lan Qiren quickly comes up with a plan.  First, he will go fetch a doctor to check Lan Xichen, since an external eye might detect more than he did himself. If they can identify what ails him, they might return him to normal. Should that fail (Lan Xichen will have to use his powers on the doctor as well, though he’s getting tired and might require a large offering from Nie Huaisang that night) they will need to keep the situation secret, for fear that certain people try to take advantage of the situation. In that case, Lan Qiren decides that his nephews will isolate themselves together for a few days, until the lectures for the guest disciples start, so that Lan Xichen can be reminded of the knowledge and behaviours expected of a young master of their sect.

Lan Wangji makes no objection to this plan. His only remark is to ask that Nie Huiasang stay with them until Lan Qiren returns with a doctor, so he can be further questioned about the present situation. Lan Qiren agrees, and leaves the boys alone.

As soon as they are just the three of them together, something shifts in Lan Wangji’s attitude. So far he hasn’t given the impression of a particularly expressive person, and yet Lan Xichen can instantly tell that his new brother is incredibly upset.

“Nie gongzi,” Lan Wangji says, his voice monotone and yet heavy with carefully refrained emotion. “Who is this person sitting with us?”

Nie Huaisang goes pale, as if he might faint, then turns a bright shade of red, before he starts laughing in a nervous manner.

“Ah, just as could be expected of you!” Nie Huaisang exclaims with a painful grin. “Lan gongzi is really something else! Anybody else could be fooled except you, I should have known!”

Lan Wangji makes no answer. Lan Xichen cannot tell if his new brother is aggravated or relieved that Nie Huaisang isn’t even trying to hide that something is wrong.

As for Lan Xichen himself, he feels too keenly the pain of disappointment. While Lan Wangji does appear to be a powerful young cultivator, and strong willed for his age, Nie Mingjue and Lan Qiren were still his superiors. The only reason he resisted where they gave in, Lan Xichen suspects, is because Nie Huaisang has more faith in Lan Wangji’s strength of spirit than in his, creating a weakness in his powers.

“Explain,” Lan Wangji demands, and Nie Huaisang obeys without hesitation.

Not only does he not hesitate, but Nie Huaisang appears sincerely relieved to share his secret as he retells the way he ran away, how he became lost and unknowingly made a deal with a god who then took human form.

Lan Wangji listens, glances over Lan Xichen, and frowns.

“He looks like me. Why?”

From being merely a little nervous, Nie Huaisang panics at the question with such intensity that it nearly makes Lan Xichen physically sick. For a torturous second there is no more belief sustaining him, replaced by a terror that cannot feed him. It doesn’t last longer than a heartbeat before Nie Huaisang pulls himself together and laughs awkwardly, but Lan Xichen is left shaken.

“Well, I ran away because I felt so lonely and unappreciated, right?” Nie Huaisang explains. “And I wanted to not feel alone. And so I thought of you, because I…”

He hesitates, his entire face flushed red. For the second time in just moments, Lan Xichen feels Nie Huaisang’s belief waver, replaced by a sentiment entirely directed toward Lan Wangji.

“I think of you as my best friend,” Nie Huaisang miserably lies, “so of course I wanted someone like you at my side.”

Hit by a sudden realisation, Lan Xichen stares at the young man who gave him a chance to live again. With parts of Nie Huaisang modelled after Lan Wangji, of course Lan Xichen knew already there had to be some attraction involved. But this isn’t mere attraction that he is witnessing. 

Instead, Nie Huaisang is in love with Lan Wangji.

That discovery alone is already painful. In their short time together Lan Xichen has become quite fond of Nie Huaisang and has seen nothing in him that could make him fear the ‘marriage’ part of their deal. To find that he has a rival, one of true flesh and blood, one who doesn’t need the world explained to him, who can read and write and do all those things that matter so much to Nie Huaisang, is like being stabbed in the guts.

But things only get worse when Lan Wangji, so impassible thus far, huffs ever so slightly at Nie Huaisang and smiles at him with all the warmth his nature allows him.

It might not be love yet, but fondness is a first step in that direction.

Meaning that Nie Huaisang might never have needed Lan Xichen and just didn't know it yet.

"Nie gongzi always makes things interesting," Lan Wangji placidly comments, which Nie Huaisang appears to take as criticism, while Lan Xichen suspects it to be a compliment. "I will allow this person to remain." 

"Really ? Wangji, that means lying!" 

"Hm. This person is meant to be my older brother, correct?" 

Nie Huaisang again panics, explains, apologises, but Lan Wangji's attention has shifted to his new brother. Under such a piercing gaze, Lan Xichen feels exposed, though he doesn't detect any bad feeling coming from Lan Wangji, only curiosity and a sharp flicker of hope. 

"He may stay," Lan Wangji repeats. "If he stays long, he will in some years announce that he steps down in my favour. Until then, this person may carry the title of heir." 

Silence falls for a long moment. Lan Xichen hasn't finished processing what this means (more effort, more lies, more pretending, all to fool not only this sect but also all others) when he notices that Lan Wangji is smiling again, while Nie Huaisang starts howling with laughter. 

"Wangji! Lan gongzi! No, wait, it's Lan er-gonzi now, right? Either way, who knew you had it in you to be crafty! Dumping your responsibilities on someone else like this… why, it sounds like something I would do!" 

"You are my friend," Lan Wangji soberly replies, though his eyes shine. "And a bad influence."

Nie Huaisang only laughs harder, joyful and free in a way Lan Xichen has never seen him. 

It might be good to look for new followers quickly, the god decides. Before this fountain of belief dries out as Nie Huaisang realises he already has everything he wished for, sending Lan Xichen back to the misery and despair of his old existence.

[teawaffles]

There’s No Business Like Show Business: Chapter 2

The next day.

After finishing his work at the mansion, Bond headed to Whitechapel’s Leman Street, where Maya and her company normally held their rehearsals. [1]

Walking down the noisy street was not just Bond, but also three other employees of the Moriarty household. One of them was Fred Porlock.

“It would’ve been fine if only you came along, Fred…… But thanks for joining us anyway, you two.”

Bond directed that to Jack Renfield and Sebastian Moran, who were walking a little behind him.

As Fred was a master of disguise, Bond had asked him to contribute his opinion on the performance too when Jack and Moran decided to tag along. Now the four of them were on their way to the rehearsal — with Louis’ permission of course.

Jack roared with laughter.

“No, you don’t have to thank me. I’ve watched my fair share of theatre, so I thought I could help them out, even if it’s from an amateur’s perspective,” said the old butler, nodding as he reminisced about those good old days.

“You’re probably just after the young girls from the theatre company, aren’t you old man?” Moran said, half in disgust. “Bond said this Maya chairwoman is a dashing lady in her own right, so I came along to feast my eyes on—— Ow, that hurt!”

Jack had clapped Moran on the head, as a warning to not shoot his mouth off.

“The only one here chasing women is you. Really, you didn’t even finish your chores properly before coming here.”

“I did my part just fine. For once, I’m not skipping out on work.”

“Rubbish — I did a check before we left and found some cigarette butts in the hallway. Don’t you dare annoy Louis any further.”

“……W-Well, the more the merrier, right?”

“…………”

Listening to their usual argument at the back of the group, Bond smiled wryly, while Fred was silent.

Finally, they had reached their destination. Waiting in front of the theatre was Maya, and her little sister Mae.

“Mister Bond!”

“Hey, haven’t seen you since yesterday.”

Mae waved her arms up and down in excitement, while Bond greeted them with a smile.

“S—sorry. Normally, she would play with the other children near our place, but today she insisted on coming with me…… By the way, um, who might these, d—dignified gentlemen be?”

“Ah, they work at the same household as me. The short one here is Fred. The somewhat scary-looking one is Moran. And this dandy old gentleman is Mr Jack. If you’re alright with it, I thought you could use their input as well.”

As Bond introduced them, the three men also greeted their host. But Maya seemed a little perplexed.

“……Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come here in a big group,” Bond admitted, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“No, no.” Maya hurriedly waved her hands. “I—I’m really grateful to be able to, hear valuable feedback from, so many people. For now, let’s not stand here to talk, please come in……”

Maya guided them into the theatre, stooped in a self-abasing posture. Her faltering voice was much as the same as from their previous encounter, but today, nerves seemed to have crept in as well.

“She has a sort of shadow about her, but that has its own charm. Like the transient beauty of a young widow, don’t you think?”

“She’s pretty, for sure, but not really my type. More like the kind of woman who complicates things when you break up with her.”

“Um, sorry you two, but if you could just keep your voices down,” chided Bond, as Jack and Moran whispered about the chairwoman behind her back.

Right after the entrance was a cramped space. The box seats above them looked hastily constructed; in truth, the interior decorations made it seem more appropriate to call this place a playhouse, rather than a proper theatre.

But their guide had only praise. “The manager here is, a really nice person; whenever we say we want to practise, he’s always happy to lend it to us. There are performances held at night, so we can only use it during the day.”

“He trusts you, doesn’t he.”

Hearing her speak with such sincere gratitude, Bond was quietly impressed by her character. Perhaps her dark aura easily invited misunderstanding, but she was definitely genuine at heart.

“Speaking of which, Miss Maya, you said that you’re the director for this performance, but surely someone else is responsible for the sets and the arrangements at the other theatre during this time?”

“Another member is in charge of the sets, but the negotiations and the like, w—were handled by me. Even so, the manager of the larger theatre — a nobleman — had actually approached us to be the opening act for another company, and I just accepted his invitation.”

“Still, isn’t it great to be invited to perform on a bigger stage, even if it’s just as an opening act?”

“Yes; for people like us — a theatre company from the slums, we don’t have many chances to show the world what we can do, so everyone’s doing their very best.”

Saying that, Maya secretly clenched her fists. Surely the one working the hardest was none other than Maya herself.

There was no audience in the stalls, and on the stage were a number of men and women — likely the company members themselves — doing light warm-ups and vocal exercises. A few of the children he’d met yesterday were also frolicking about on stage.

One exceptionally tall man on the stage had noticed Bond and the others enter the hall, and spoke up.

“Oh, is that the rumoured theatre master?”

Moran whistled at this unusually grand title.

“Theatre master, eh. A fitting name considering your experience, Bond.”

“Fufu, I’m honoured.”

Bond accepted it with his innate courage and composure. Then, he went onto the stage with Maya, while the other three sat in the stalls at the far end, so as to not stand out and interfere with the rehearsal.

The company members each stopped what they were doing and lined up in wait.

“Everyone, this is Mr Bond, who will be watching our performance today,” introduced Maya.

Right then and there, her voice had become clearer and stronger. A little taken aback by the sudden change in her attitude, Bond took a quick look around the room.

“Hello to you all. I’m looking forward to what you have for me today,” he said solemnly, as he bowed.

“We’ll do our best!” The company members bowed their heads in unison.

From their greeting, Bond could feel the the quality of their bearing, and the strength of their cohesion. Not only that, the tension he himself once felt when he stood on stage came rushing back in waves.

He switched his frame of mind from that of a special agent, to that of an actor, and looked over Maya and her company with an earnest gaze.

“Well then, without further ado, please show me what you’ve got.”

“Yes!”

Even though his instructions had been given with no introductory remarks, they asked no unnecessary questions, and jumped straight into preparation. Even though they had only put up plays in cheap theatres, Maya’s company already displayed the high level of professionalism they had developed.

“Miss Maya, what’s the programme for today?” Bond asked, as he moved to the row of seats right in front of the stage.

Maya was also directing Mae and the other children to sit down. “We’re starting with ‘The Red Shoes’, followed by ‘The Little Mermaid’, and lastly, ‘The Little Match Girl’.”

“Hmm, fairytales, I see.”

The unexpected subject matter piqued his interest.

In a time when Shakespeare was all the rage, to perform children’s literature in a proper theatre, and a serious scripted play at that — now this was a bold move.

But as someone who liked to do things unconventionally, that was precisely why their play intrigued Bond. Yesterday’s playful rendition of “The Little Match Girl” was probably inspired by it as well.

Then, the tall man who noticed Bond earlier spoke up.

“Ain’t it interesting? Maya always makes sure to write plays that even us poor dumb folk understand. Today’s script is also entirely her work,” he said cheerfully.

“Weren’t you in charge of creating the play too? You should be able to write at least one decent line of dialogue.”

At the man’s self-satisfied tone, a woman beside him sighed. But he ignored her pointed comment and carried on.

“There were a bunch of people who’d always thought ‘Hamlet’ and ‘Macbeth’ and the like were plain boring; but after Maya broke them down into something easier to follow, they’ve gotten hooked onto Shakespeare.”

“Being able to interpret works in a way that everyone can understand…… A wonderful talent indeed.”

But if you were to put on a proper production of Shakespeare in an unregulated theatre like this, you would be caught by the censors. To avoid that, incorporating music and the like into their productions was a brilliant adaptation on their part.

Bond had said that last part out loud, and the man thanked him for his words of praise. The members of the company had shown their admiration for Maya, but the woman herself took in a deep breath, as if to hide her embarrassment.

In other words, in order to put on a play that everyone could follow, the answer she'd arrived at was “fairytales”. Although it may be the best choice given the short length of the opening act……

“I’m sitting next to Mister Bond!”

“Hey, no fair!”

Bond had been absorbed in thought about the contents of the play. Nearby, the children were scrambling for the best spots. Having won the seat to the left of Bond, Mae asked him a question.

“Mister Bond, do you like ‘fairy tales’?”

That pulled him out of his thought process for a moment, and Mae smiled.

“Yeah. I read them when I was a child.”

“I like them too, because Maya and the rest always read them in a fun way—”

“Me too!” The other children raised their hands and shouted. Reading stories aloud while acting out the roles was indeed a theatrical way of reading to children.

However, Mae immediately pouted in frustration.

“But I really hate that story.”

“……Why is that?”

“The little girl always looks so sad. I tried asking Maya to give it a happy ending, but she just said that we have to ‘respect the intent of the story’ and didn’t listen.”

Her words helped Bond discern the true nature of the incongruity he'd felt.

As Mae had said, all three stories had their protagonists fall into unfortunate circumstances and perish. It was true that many fairytales were cruel, but there were others with happy endings too. Was there some hidden intent behind these choices?

As Bond pondered the new question that surfaced in his mind, Mae leaned in towards him.

“Mister Bond, do you also think it’s important, what Maya said? No matter how sad a story is, can’t we make it happy on our own?”

She asked that question with clear eyes. Bond thought for a few seconds, before responding.

“It’s true that it’s important to understand the intention of the original story. If you change its contents haphazardly, the fans of the story would be upset. I think your sister is the type who would take that very seriously.”

Mae glanced down in disappointment at his level-headed answer, but Bond continued.

“However, if we were all afraid of criticism, then nothing new would ever be made. If you have something you really want to tell others, then I think it’s possible to add a new interpretation to a story. After all, one form of respect is to show the world how you would’ve done it.”

“……Oh I see!”

Mae brightened up, and Bond smiled. Her question was one that had always, and would continue to vex all interpreters of stories. But at the very least, he didn’t want to make a decision on which way was right.

Just as their conversation had come to an end, it seemed the preparations for the performance were now complete.

“Without further ado, let us begin.”

Standing on a platform, Maya gave a bow, and with that the curtain rose.

Footnotes:

[1] Leman Street is a little to the north-east of the Tower of London and St. Katharine Docks, and within walking distance of both.

T/N: Is this chapter some meta-level commentary on the series itself?! omg

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH11

And here the plot thickens! There’s a lot coming up in this next section that I hope you will all love. I’ve spent the most time in this middle portion, and I’m really happy with a lot of the character arcs coming up. Enjoy!

Previous    First    Next      AO3

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Chapter 11: Rain on Me

“It’s not much, but…”

Tall columns stretched up to the ceiling on either side of the grand staircase, and Marinette’s reflection beamed back at her in the tile. The foyer was bright and airy—a stark contrast to the duller hues of Adrien’s house. Macy’s home was grand but also inviting.

Eliott shoved Macy playfully. “I’ll say. My foyer is much bigger.”

Macy shoved him back, sticking out her tongue. “C’mon, I’ll show you my room.” She bounced up the stairs cheerfully, leading them to the door at the end of the hall. “This whole wing is mine actually. I’ve got a movie theater, a private bathroom—I even have my own sound studio.”

“I’ve begged my father to build a theater, but he doesn’t like the idea of having a lot of teenagers in his house,” Adrien said with a hint of envy. “Do you mind if I take a look?”

“You can look at whatever you want,” Macy giggled.

Martin and Eliott exchanged looks.

“I’ll go with them.” Martin followed them up the hall.

“Marinette, come check out the closet. Macy’s handbag collection is to die for.” Eliott took her hand and pulled her into Macy’s room. “Julius, can you bring us up some tea? Set it up on the terrace.”

Macy’s butler nodded politely before retreating from the room.

“You’re really comfortable here,” Marinette remarked as Eliott threw open the closet doors.

"Macy and I grew up together. We've been friends forever, so it's almost like I live here too," he said, sifting through a rack of designer dresses. "We're basically family."

"That's so awesome. I wish I had someone like that," Marinette said. She examined the photos hanging on Macy's vanity, smiling young faces that were all too familiar. "Who's the girl in these pictures? She looks a lot like you. Is she your sister?"

Eliott stopped, cautiously crossing the room to stand beside her. He shoved his hands into his pockets and frowned. "No, that's me.”

Marinette's eyebrows raised. "Oh. Oh. Okay." She nodded, turning back to the pictures awkwardly.

"Is that okay?" Eliott asked.

"Of course."

Eliott relaxed, trailing his thumb over the edge of the photo. "I started transitioning the summer before collége. I’m lucky that my family is so supportive," he explained. “Not many people at school know besides Macy—just a few teachers. I’m always a bit scared to tell new people because I don’t know how they’ll react, and even though we haven’t known each other that long, I trust you, Marinette.”

"Um, thank you for telling me." She clasped her hands together. “It means a lot to know you see me that way. After everything… I needed friends like you and Macy.”

"I should be thanking you. I’ve changed for the better every day since I met you. I can tell you have that effect on people,” he said. “Besides, it's who I am, and I don’t want to hide it from my friends. It’s just… not everyone is so understanding.”

"Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Marinette said. Her cheeks warmed when Eliott scooped her into a tight hug.

Things in her life were so different now. Different school, different people, but deep down, Marinette was still the same. Loving her friends wasn’t a bad thing. Alya may have turned her back on their friendship, but that didn’t mean that everyone in her life would. Eliott’s confidence in her was proof enough that these people would stay by her side.

“You two can go ahead out to the terrace,” Macy’s voice sounded in the hall, and a moment later, she appeared in the doorway. “Did you show her my limited-edition handbag collection?” She leaned against the frame with a knowing look.

“Yeah, she thinks they’re great.” Eliott winked.

“Good,” Macy said. “We don’t let just anyone see them, so you should feel honored.”

“I do. Moving to a new school was really hard, so I’m glad to have made such good friends so quickly,” Marinette said. “You’ve both changed my life too.”

“Aww,” Macy and Eliott cooed.

Eliott lifted her hand to his lips. “Don’t worry. From now on, we’re here for you, Marinette.”

“Yeah, you’re one of us now.”

♪♫♪ The Wrecked and the Worried ♪♫♪

“Thanks for taking me home,” Marinette said as Gorilla pulled out onto the street. “Macy lives so far away from my house.”

Adrien smiled at her, the warmth from his chest spreading to his cheeks. Marinette was so much happier with her new friends. Seeing her face light up when she laughed at one of Eliott’s jokes, or the slight furrow in her brow when Macy waved 2000 euros away like it was pocket change set his mind at ease.

The more distance Marinette put between her and Francoise-Dupont, the happier she became, and the more Lila’s threats lost their bite. Out of everyone in their class, he had always been drawn to Marinette. Maybe it was her courage or her compassionate nature that he admired so much or maybe her optimistic attitude. She’d lost everything because of Lila, and yet, she’d still managed to pick up the pieces and find happiness again.

In such a short time, he’d become so protective of her. He never wanted that smile to fade or those brilliant bluebell eyes to dim. More than anything, he wanted her to be free from the past, and he’d do anything to help her get there. Marinette deserved the best—she shared her light freely all the time and never asked for anything in return, so now he was going to do the same for her.

“It’s no trouble. I’m happy that I get to spend time together with just you,” he said. “Your new friends are really nice.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about Macy. She just gets really excited.” Marinette winced.

“It’s okay,” he chuckled. “Your designs look amazing so far.”

Her cheeks darkened three shades. “I dunno about that. They’re still pretty messy…Clara probably won’t like them.”

“Why not? You’re really talented. I’m sure she will love them.” He assured her.

“Thanks, I guess. I’m just so nervous about it.” She hugged her bag to her chest and bit her lip. “I still can’t believe I have an opportunity like this right now. It’s always been my dream to be a designer, but I pictured it as something I wouldn’t achieve until I was older. I feel so under-qualified.”

“You’re already a great designer, Marinette, and people are starting to see that,” he said. “You shouldn’t be so modest.”

“I know, but I can’t help it,” she said. “I don’t want to brag or seem full of myself.”

“I don’t think anyone thinks you’re full of yourself. It’s not wrong to brag every once in a while, especially for someone as incredible as you.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and offered her a warm smile. “We’re all just proud of you, and we want you to be proud of yourself. You deserve it.”

Marinette bit back a smile, cheeks pink and eyes shining in the dim light. How had he gotten so lucky to meet someone like her? She was so smart and driven and kind. Unlike Lila. Marinette was going to change the world for real someday—Clara was just step one.

“Well, looks like this is me,” she said as the limo slowed to a stop. “Thanks again for the ride.”

“You’re welcome, anytime.” Adrien pulled her in for a hug, kissing both of her cheeks. “See you soon.”

“See you!”

Adrien leaned back against the seat with a sigh, drumming his fingers as the limo pulled away. Lila needed to be stopped at all costs. If she got in the way of Marinette’s future, he’d never forgive her. He hated to admit it, but after his conversation with Nino and Alya, he’d officially run out of nice options. Lila would continue to use people for as long as she could unless they did something. Unless he did something.

Conflict made his skin crawl, but he owed this to Marinette. If he hadn’t been so complaisant, she wouldn’t have changed schools. She and Alya might still be friends, and he could even see Nino outside of class now. This was all his fault.

Granted, if she had stayed, she may not have the same opportunities now, and she never would have met her new friends. There was some good that had come of this. He couldn’t change the past, but he would make sure Marinette had a bright future—one devoid of Lila and her lies.

“Can we stop by the Grand Paris?” he asked, and after a small huff, the limo changed course. “Thank you!”

When Adrien arrived at Chloe’s suite, she was dressed in a silk robe with a green face mask and cucumbers over her eyes. Several stylists worked on her nails, and although she couldn’t see him, she knew the moment he approached.

“Did you come for a mani-pedi?” she asked.

He shifted his weight. “You told me to come back when I was ready to take down Lila, and… I’m ready.”

“Why should I help you? You didn’t help me when I needed you.” Chloe opened her mouth, and her butler placed a small chocolate on her tongue with a pair of tongs.

“Because we’re friends, and I know you’d do anything for me,” he said. When she opened her mouth for another chocolate, undeterred, he added, “because I know you still sleep with your teddy bear.”

A wicked grin curled on her lips, cracking the half-dried, green paste on her face. “Blackmailing me, Adrikins? I’m impressed. You really have come a long way.”

“Please, Chloe? I’ve tried talking to Alya and Nino. I’ve tried convincing Lila to change. I know I screwed up before, but there has to be something else we can do to stop her.” Adrien dropped to his knees, pressing his palms together. “I’m literally begging.”

Chloe hummed thoughtfully to herself while she chewed another chocolate. “How is Dupain-Cheng these days?” she asked.

Adrien’s heart jumped to his throat. “She’s fine, and I want to keep it that way.”

Chloe’s lip twitched, and she sat up abruptly. Her staff scrambled to remove the cucumbers from her eyes as she stood up to meet Adrien’s gaze head-on. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in love with her. Why else do you care so much about Lila other than the fact that she’s tarnishing Marinette’s reputation?”

“She’s just a friend, and I don’t want Lila to turn everyone against her,” Adrien insisted.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Even I don’t believe you when you say that anymore, Adrikins.” She turned and waddled carefully to the bathroom, the bottom of her robe trailing the ground. “Lila might lie to others, but you lie to yourself. I can’t decide which is more painful to watch.”

“Chloe-”

She paused in the doorway and looked over her shoulder. “I will think of something to help you with Lila if it’s so important to you,” she said. “Now, I’ve got a date with a hot bubble bath, so beat it.”

“Thank you, Chloe-”

“Out!” She pointed to the door.

Adrien scurried from her suite, mashing the elevator button repeatedly. He pictured Marinette’s smiling face from that afternoon contrasted against her anguished sobs from only a few days before. Lila would pay for those tears, and Adrien would make sure she never caused them again. He’d protect Marinette Dupain-Cheng, no matter the cost.

♪♫♪ Runaways ♪♫♪

“See you tomorrow!” Marinette waved to Macy and Eliott outside Martin’s apartment a few nights later.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Macy gestured to Eliott’s open limo.

“Yeah, I’ll manage. The subway isn’t too far from here, and it’s out of your way,” she insisted.

Eliott pursed his lips but didn’t press. “Alright then. See you tomorrow.” He blew her a kiss.

Marinette started up the street alone, enjoying a brief moment of solitude. After changing schools in the middle of the term, she was in need of a good study session, and her new friends were more than happy to oblige. Martin’s ritzy apartment building was smaller than Macy and Eliott’s sprawling mansions, but still far more luxurious than Marinette’s home.

“For having so much, your new friends are surprisingly generous.” Tikki peeked out from her purse.

“Just because they’re rich doesn’t mean they’re not nice people. Look at Adrien. He’s the nicest person I know.” She sighed dreamily before snapping herself out of it. “Martin, Macy, and Eliott have become people I can really count on. I owe them a lot for embracing me the way they have.”

“Do you think they’re worthy replacements for Rena Rouge and Carapace?” Tikki asked.

Marinette pursed her lips with a hum. “Time will tell. I want to be absolutely certain this time. No more mistakes.”

“Oh my gosh, hey!” A strangely familiar voice cooed.

Marinette stopped short, turning over her shoulder as an arm snaked through her own and tugged. Red hair blurred her vision until bright green eyes locked with hers.

“Wow, what are the odds that we’d run into each other. It’s so awesome to see you.”

Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed as Gabrielle dragged her further up the street. Her tight grip stretched Marinette’s shoulders painfully, but something in her voice seemed off. It was familiar and friendly, which was already puzzling enough, but Marinette also detected a hint of…fear?

“Gabrielle, what’s-”

“There are some creepy guys following me, play along, and I’ll leave you alone for a month,” she hissed. “So, what are you up to?”

Marinette grasped her forearm, giving the illusion of familiarity, even if it was to keep her shoulder from popping out of socket. “Uh, just out and about.”

“Hey, we should see a movie next week.” Gabrielle picked up the pace as they rounded a corner.

Marinette struggled to keep up with her long legs. “Yeah, totally!” She used a parked car to catch a glimpse of their assailants in the reflection. “Do you wanna take the subway with me?”

“We need to shake them off first,” Gabrielle said under her breath.

Marinette pressed her lips together, then nodded. “Follow me.”

Gabrielle arched a brow as Marinette took the lead, veering toward the park across the street. She cut diagonally across to the other exit, stealing a glance over her shoulder as they turned another corner. They were still being followed, their assailants picking up speed to match their pace. Marinette checked the time on her phone, abruptly darting across the street to the next block.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Gabrielle asked through clenched teeth.

“Trust me,” Marinette said.

Gabrielle eyed her skeptically but didn’t argue. Marinette pictured the route in her head, imagining the overhead view. She knew this city better than anyone, and as she ducked around one more corner, she finally made the plunge down into the subway. Gabrielle tensed, but Marinette grabbed her wrist and picked up the pace. They slid onto the subway car just before the doors closed, watching smugly as their pursuers slowed to a stop at the base of the stairs just as the train pulled off.

“Thanks.” Gabrielle averted her gaze stubbornly. “You didn’t have to help me.”

“I know,” Marinette said. She grabbed onto the pole as Gabrielle pulled out her phone and resumed ignoring her. “So, what are you doing out walking? Don’t you have a chauffeur?”

“None of your business.”

Marinette’s eyes narrowed on the apron sticking out of her bag, and Gabrielle shifted to hide it. Something weird was going on with her, but Gabrielle was right—it wasn’t any of her business. They were safe, and that was all that mattered.

“I can make it home from here,” Gabrielle said when the train stopped at the next station. “Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome…” Marinette leaned against the pole with a frown as Gabrielle stalked from the car.

“That was odd,” Tikki said from Marinette’s collar.

“Yeah,” Marinette said when the doors slid shut again. “Really odd.”

[my-hyperfixation-trash-can]

Hetalia’s Russia and DID/OSDD 1-b

Hey! So @autistic-hetalia your blog said you accept neurodiverse head canons and I thought maybe I could share this one with your blog!

I believe the Hetalia character of Russia has OSDD 1-b (Otherwise Specified Disociative Disorder or possibly DID, being Dissociative Identity Disorder) and this is why.

Just a note,

There is no such thing as an evil alter. Do not demonize people with DID or Other Dissociative Disorders! Those with this disorder are victims of Trauma and are likely to continue being victims of abusers, rarely do they become abusers!

Anyways, -cough cough- I’d love if anyone wants to add to this with more evidence!

1. Russia had a traumatic childhood

He is shown to have had abusive bosses who would punish him. He is threatened by one to invent steam power by the end of the week or be punished. Tartar Yoke mentioned by Lithuania as one of his bosses was also known for his cruelty. So the Authority figured in his youth were often cruel and held power over him.

His environment is cold and unforgiving much like an abusive home. Russia often describes his home as cold, quiet and lonely. He rarely found support from his land and often struggled to get by. The environment and home were harsh with little support. It is also implied he froze to death each Winter, and celebrated the year he didn’t.

This is on top of having to deal with other nations attacking him, making him feel helpless. Many nations “bullied” him in attempts to conquer him. He was mobed and pursed every day by Mongolia. That is exhausting to have everyone around you be a threat. (Lithuania and his sisters were the only nations kind to him in his youth) Early on, he learns that force and strength are what matters.

Next point tw sexual abuse and assault

He also felt a great deal of responsibility to care for his sisters. He was close to them, as they were experiencing similar issues and not violent to him. He had to be the strong one. Belarus and her unhealthy attachment to Russia depending on the age she started her behaviors may have also contributed to his trauma. All of the siblings have unhealthy attitudes towards boundaries with their bodies and the bodies of others, implying another type of abuse. Ukraine and Belarus took victim roles. Russia took on an abusers. Ukraine only ever suggests using her body to get what she wants as if never taught anything else, even as a child that’s what she knows. Belarus I don’t know where to begin, but her staring off is certainly dissociative like, paired with other trust issues. In a diary entry she is stated to have possibly messaged Ukraine’s breasts, once again showing more unhealthy boundaries with attachments to loved ones. Someone taught her that. And Russia, who internalized his abusers, acted out his abuse on others as implied with Lithuania looking distressed dressed as a maid and Russia holding a whip. In another non canon game Himaura worked on, Bulgaria in the bad ending is shown tied up and naked implied to be whipped by Russia as Russia says this is “tradition” or possibly more routine implying this is something he does often.

The idea with dissociative disorders is that the repetitive trauma that happens has to be too much for the mind of that individual child in comparison to the culture they’re raised in, and it conflicts with getting their needs met. And to the countries, all of them know Russia has had a life with far more conflicts in his youth than most, and a great deal of pain.

2. Russia has General Winter (GW for short)

General Winter manifests when Russia is being attacked by other nations in order to defend him, or to be a tormentor to Russia himself (such as freezing him to death each Winter).

This is oddly similar to what is known as a persecutor alter. These alters have the goal in mind to protect the host or body, but they’re a bit misguided in how to do that. They might take on the form of an abuser, or something outside the body, this turns into being an Introject. I’ll post a link to more info on DID/OSDD at the end of the post. The educational videos playlist will have a video on alter roles.

Russia’s bosses often abused him, and if he had an alter like this it would make sense that it would take the form of a general, someone in power who feels so much bigger and stronger than him. A boss who can push him around and make him behave in a way that will avoid further trauma from the real abusers. Winter the season, being another tormenting force of the environment, is another abuser, and it makes sense GW would take that into his identity. Russia feels helpless to it. It is also worth noting that other nations who also had to deal with Harsh winters do not have General Winter as an ally. He only protects Russia.

It would also explain why General Winter protects Russia from others attacking him. He took the ideologies of his abusers to heart, so GW pushes people away and treats them like threats. He feels strong by holding power and fear over others and force. If I can be stronger, no one can hurt me or would dare try, this is the mentality.

I believe GW can manifest as he does because Russia has magic. It’s canon that Russia can do magic or has a strange magic of his own, so whose to say GW can’t utilize it too. Perhaps even to let himself manifest sometimes in his spirit like form. This is more a headcanon or idea though.

Russia himself however is shown to be very passive with his bosses. These are people who hold power over him that he can’t really run away from or fight. So his response is to faun or freeze. This is basically stated in the comics (picture below.) and it’s often that alters have a specific role. Russia’s would be to people please those who he can’t fight. Making General Winter’s job to defend from attack.

3. Russia is shown to dissociate

When he is told to do an impossible amount of work, he just straight up loses himself in a fantasy immediately to escape the reality of the situation. There are other instances too, some in his childhood directly, but this was the most overt. This is from To your Hearts content, Russia!

4. Russia Is Inconsistent

There are times when Russia feels very different from moment to moment.

He goes from open about himself to swiftly sadistic and cold. He has moments of childish behavior to moments of maturity. These, when combined with the rest of my points, are worth noting. He both wants to hurt (possibly destroy) the others, but also be liked by them?

You can’t destroy people and have them like you.

The baltic Trio who lived a substantial amount of time with him still are confused by his unpredictable behavior. Each encounter The Baltic’s have with Russia is marked by a fear of what he might do. And not having certainty, thus they say things without knowing if it’s safe or not.

Even to Lithuania, (Whom Russia often shows Vulnerability to, in moments like bloody Sunday and Sharing his dreams in Outsourcing Sequel)living with Russia feels a strange theme park where he never knew what to expect. Lithuania has been shown to be great in strategy and games of wit, and a commendable leader with great people skills, yet he only has a general idea of Russia’s behavior? He is seen advising Prussia and Moldova that Russia likes it when people laugh or cry easily (This being predictable to Russia and thus easier to navigate social situations with) so it’s not like Lithuania isn’t paying attention. Russia shows moments of vulnerability and his thought process in panels like Bloody Sunday, which is quite telling as to what he believes are his responsibilities, and how the world works.

Now the real question is “why is he like this?”

He only understands the world from the point of view of someone who still lives in the abuse and knows no other options. He never had anyone teach or show him different. His world is ruled by who is the strongest, and if you can obey the strong you won’t get hurt or discarded. “We don’t want children who can’t play nice,” sounds like something an abuser told him frequently in his youth.

Russia just doesn’t have a support system due to his strained relationships with everyone. So he keeps relying on old defense mechanisms, hence letting General Winter step in when something threatens his sense of safety.

Nearly Every time (at least that’s what I noticed) Russia is emotionally vulnerable to someone, he suddenly changes to be sadistic or scary. It successfully pushes the person away and Reestablishes the fear of Russia in the individual, returning him to a state of being feared and alone where none of the other countries can hurt him. Examples below.

France talking to Russia after meetings and asking him personal questions would result in Russia ending the conversation by scaring him with a scsry remark and aura suddenly.

Russia Comforting China after Japan turns on him, he is kind and compassionate at first, but suddenly changes at the end.

The Baltic Trio never knows what to expect. He frequently uses fear and force to keep them.

This behavior seems directly contradictory to wanting friends and having a warm and lively home. So GW still reacts with a trauma response, and Russia reacts in line with his wishes of making friends and having others around him. The Use of force and intimidation is naturally the middle ground between their wishes. Russia believes everyone is his friends, and doesn’t see how his behavior is pushing people away. Other times he seems to want friends to like him back, like when he sent France an anonymously written letter to his radio show. However he has wishes that contradict.

Now, I think he sees friends as people he can keep near him that he enjoys the company of. (This doesn’t need to be mutual or involve trust, just force) but those wants directly contradict.

I think GW is passively influencing him with some of the behavior rather than switching out right, but either option still would have the same effects. Passive influence is when an alter is close to the front, or feels/thinks something strong enough that it affects the person at the front. Making them behave in a way that is ooc for them, but not the other who intentionally or unintentionally influenced them.

This would explain sudden shifts to a cruel threatening position with other nations, something that will most likely always be a threat GW needs to defend against. He is particularly cold and defensive with anyone that has a chance to hurt him, (or tries to look into his psyche) regardless of if they made a move to do so.

More on passive influence can be found in the sources at the bottom under educational playlist.

5. Misc. Points of knowledge

Russia’s character originally was meant to be a cry baby, and only when he drinks, has a complete switch in personality. Frankly I’m glad he was changed to the complex guy we have now. However I think this concept wasn’t fully lost.

His character song, Winter, seems to talk of him experiencing freezing to death each Winter. Further adding to his repetitive trauma.

It is not unheard of for nations to have disorders and conditions. Australia has ADHD, Prussia is Albino, Lithuania has severe anxiety (and possibly PTSD), so who is to say a nation like Russia can’t have a dissociative disorder?

It is stated in one of Russia’s character bios that “General Winter is always with him”, however where? I don’t physically see him, but perhaps we can’t because he’s sharing a body with Russia.

In summary

Russia dissociates under stress

Russia has repetitive traumas and an ongoing history of abuse all his life

Russia has inconsistent behavior and attachments

General Winter could certainly be a separate personality and functions exactly like an introject/persecutor alter would to their host.

Russia acts out and damages relationships, acting in inconsistent ways that might play out his own abuse, and/or reflect his desires to keep others near him.

As a note, I actually have DID, so this could be my projecting, but please don’t yell at me about how I made a “villain” have DID and feed into evil alters and split Stareotypes. I would only like to raise interest and provide an example of what a misrepresented disorder can look like. And the links below are there if you want to make your mind up for yourself and educate yourself if this inspires your portrayal of him! This isn’t meant to be insensitive, I’ve been working on this post for months to word it as sensitive as I could while also acknowledging Russia is still responsible for his and GW’s actions. Saying he has DID isn’t to excuse it, just explain it.

Don’t erase his victims, but don’t erase that he also is one.

(This blog below was also really helpful, but this post covers a lot of Russia’s earlier trauma and his mentality)

https://ellawritesficssometimes.tumblr.com/post/175060886956

Research for DID and OSDD 1b below: (along with links to comics)

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLm56LzW0BA_P7-yL3rK7INZDDozTayJvJ

https://www.hetarchive.net/blog/tag/russia/

http://hetarchive.net/tag/russia/

http://www.hetarchive.net/blog/2013/10/11/blog-entry-1411/

https://hetalia.fandom.com/wiki/Russia

https://www.hetarchive.net/blog/2019/01/29/about-the-fact-that-russias-history-is-too-scary/

Below is for an example of dissociation:

http://www.hetarchive.net/blog/2019/02/28/to-your-hearts-content-russia/

https://youtu.be/ZV3ToVA5BqQ

https://did-research.org/origin/comorbid/dd/osdd_udd/index.html

[sasa-gay-yo]

Just Us (Chapter Three: Normal)

← Chapter Two

“A false sense of calm. Of hope. That’s all that it was.” 

Everything had been published in the papers rooting for the Scouts and people in the streets were also in high spirits when they heard they were coming back from a monthly expedition. People had lined up in front of the café and this time I decided to join them and not wait for the newspapers. I could see if Levi made it out alive by just stepping outside of my door. 

Jonas had given me the box he was standing on, yet I still had to go on my tiptoes to just get a look over everyone else’s heads. I had asked Jonas how people knew the Scouts would come back and he said they would just take the whole day to stand and wait. It was almost beautiful to see the number of people here to support them and it made me feel warm inside. I never forgot the look Levi gave me when I told them the Scouts gave me hope, but I hoped that this display from the people of Trost could convince him.

“They’re here!” There were soft cheers as the horses neared in everyone’s vision. This was the first time I got to see Erwin in person and the portraits of him gave his eyebrows no justice. Even from far away you could see his herculean presence. People cheered more and more and I searched around for him on as they came closer and closer. 

Then the cheering stopped. The first of the line to see what was behind Erwin shut completely up and I was straining so hard to see why. Erwin’s expression was unreadable.

“Elias, get on my shoulders.” I grabbed the little boy from Jonas and hoisted him up as a lookout, “Can you see why they stopped cheering?” 

The smile on the boy’s face dropped.

“Elias?” Before he could say anything, the crowd started for him. 

“I thought for once we had a chance! Now, look!”

“My tax dollars down the drain again.”

“Ugh, useless.” I felt Elias’s grip on my hand tighten as he heard the remarks. He was little and probably couldn’t understand the criticism of the people he wanted to be when he grew up. Even I couldn’t understand until I finally saw what everyone was muttering about. Scout after Scout limped by.

They had halved easily. They were filled with people who were bandaged, crippled, walking with no horse, or lying unconscious in a cart. This made me instantly seize up with worry. Where was Levi?

“Miss. Eva… Where did they all go?” His tiny voice was filled with so much sadness. I hadn’t been there to see them off like the rest, but I knew from the somber faces that it was bad. My eyes darted back and forth from the people in the carts to those on horseback. Shouldn’t Levi be near Erwin if they were both officers? That means he had to be walking somewhere. 

I handed Elias back to Jonas and pushed my way to the front. It was rather easy now that people were starting to turn around and go back home after the big disappointment of the Scouts. I didn’t care about the numbers now, I just wanted to see one soldier for who I had just bought more peppermint tea. 

When I reached the front, the sight was even more heartbreaking. I could see their eyes. I could see the sadness and fear. It was something I had only seen in the humans of the underground. Then remember why I had stopped coming to bid the Scouts a ‘Welcome home!’ It was too much for current and past me to see humans deal with. 

A hand went on my shoulder and I turned to see Jonas. His face was harsh and solemn. I knew what his judgment of the Scouts was. They all walked by and slowly a sense of dread filled me. There was no way… Humanity’s Strongest couldn’t have… 

“Where is he?” The line wasn’t long and there were little to no people left. The chance of him showing up in the next few seconds was slim, but I put my hands together squeezing. Hoping.

“Levi.” 

It was a mere, breathy whisper, but his head snapped over from on top of his horse. Once he met my eyes, he looked forward like he had before. Not sparing me another glance. He was at the very back of the line, probably to protect the weak from lingering titans. It was a sick joke of a formation, but my stress level instantly went down. He didn’t look hurt, there were no bandages on him, but his expression was darker than I had ever seen it. It was probably selfish for me to only care about him right now, but as they walked by and out of the gates of Trost, I just wanted him to turn around and come in for a cup of tea. I wanted to hear him explain to me what happened. I wanted him to not hear the townspeople who were hurling insults left and right, not caring if the Scouts heard them. 

Usually, we just get nasty looks.

No, Levi, my look wasn’t nasty. It was concerned, anxious, filled with stress; I wanted to give you some tea. 

“Come on. I’m sure people will want a pick me up after seeing that.” I looked at the ground, at the leftover wagon wheel tracks. I hope he didn’t think I was looking at him that way. 

“Miss. Flynn, I hope you have some coffee ready. Those of us who don’t drink will need it.” I looked over to see June and Elias’s father, a grim expression on his face too. Everyone’s emotions were putting me down too.

“Yes, sir. Right away.” 

He didn’t come in the rest of the day and the few days after that. I inquired with some people and learned that Scouts get a week off before they have to go back and the officers only a few days. Seeing some Scouts meet their parents again or come into the café made me doubtful of Levi’s return. Everyone was so dark and grim, and without Levi to come and break that, I started to sink into that emotion as well. So much so that a few people had commented on it. 

“A breakup with a boyfriend?” 

“Did you have a friend in the Scouts that died?” 

“You seem unlike yourself today, Eva.” 

It was those people who made my attitude worse. If only he would come in and let me talk to him, maybe I would feel better. The fact that he could be willingly not coming in was probably what made my thoughts worse. I even kept a kettle of hot water ready for when he came, but he never showed. 

“I know how much you revere the Scouts, Eva, but you can’t let that do this to you. A false sense of calm. Of hope. That’s all that it was.” I shook my head at Jonas as he wrapped my fingers with the balm treated bandages. I guess the atmosphere was making me physically deteriorate too. I was grinding coffee when the first part of my skin split. My right ring finger. I didn’t think anything of it, but as I worked and worked to suppress feelings, my hands started to suffer more and more. 

“It wasn’t false, Jonas. I still have hope in the Scouts. It was one expedition. It’s just the way everyone is acting is just putting me down too.” 

“We were all stupid to think that the titans had backed down, even for a little bit. I know it hurts, but it might be better to put your faith in other things… other people.” I pulled my hand away from him and stood up. What did he mean by that?

“My thinking is fine, Jonas. Don’t you have something to deliver.” That was his cue to stop talking and leave. It was nicer than I wanted to say to him, but I couldn’t be that rude to someone who comes back everyday. However, there were sometimes that I could yell at him or be short, but I didn’t care. Everyone deserved some hate for what they gave to the Scouts. That was my philosophy. 

I went about cleaning, making sure that every table was spotless, and taking extra care of his table. He was already stressed about death, if he came in, I didn’t want him to be stressed by dirt either. 

If he came in. 

The hours ticked by and I found myself still sitting in the dark café after closing. Today was the last day of the regular cadet’s break. Maybe they were nice to officers and gave them the same. That’s what I was telling myself. 

Finally, when the sun went down, I told myself it was time to go. I reluctantly grabbed the leftovers to put in a bag and put my coat on. Even if it was a short walk up some steps to get to my home, it was getting colder as the end of fall was approaching. The city’s atmosphere somehow made the cold more depressing. 

Turning to lock the front door, I heard some footsteps walking up to the café. 

“Sorry, I know it’s looked like we were open, but we’re closed for the day. You can come back tomorrow at six in the morn-”

“I didn’t come because I don’t want you to be burdened by me.” My eyes widened and I dropped the keys on the ground. Quickly, I composed myself and the beating of my heart.

“Burdened?” I picked the keys up and saw his figure standing on the side of the alleyway. He was in regular clothes, but it still didn’t hide his stature of a captain. Anyone walking by would know it was him.

“You said the Scouts gave you hope. Then, we come back and I see your expression. I couldn’t even look at you because I ruined that. I didn’t want to come here, just for you to look at me and feel hopeless and lost and all these negative emotions and-” 

“You talk a lot for someone who’s wrong.” That stopped his rant and admittedly that is the most he’s ever talked to me, but I needed it to end. He was digging himself into a bigger hole. 

“What?” It wasn’t harsh this time as all of his one-word phrases were. 

“Whatever look I had on my face, when you were all marching through Trost, it wasn’t me losing hope. It was me, worried about their wellbeing. It was me, hearing what people were around them saying, hoping that you didn’t hear them. I think the look on my face was from a place of concern or even pity.” He moved to lean against the brick, arms folded. 

“I didn’t want to come here because then I’d involve you in all… in all of the emotions and all the death. A civilian shouldn’t have to deal with a soldier. They should be kept ignorant so they can live happily.” 

“So what was it then? You didn’t want to ruin my hope or you didn’t want to ruin my innocence?” He took a deep breath in and I noticed some people looking our way. This was a great way to have rumors spread like wildfire. If I go back to the café, there were windows that couldn’t be closed. I’m sure Captain here wouldn’t want civilians to witness his “soldier emotions”.

“I don’t…” He glanced to the side as well, seeing the people who stopped walking.

“Follow me or at least try to get yourself onto the second-floor apartment if you’re worried about them.” I turned away from him and went up the stairs on the side of the building, opening my front door. To my surprise, he did just follow behind me. Another order I’ve gotten him to follow.

“Do you want tea, Captain? I only have green tea up here.” He just stood by the closed door and stared at me. It’s like he was scared about coming into my house. Was this the first time he’s ever come home with a woman? There’s some humor in this situation I guess. 

“No… I’m fine.” I put the bag of bread on the kitchen counter and pulled out the tea leaves. I’d make him one anyway. 

It was quiet again, but quiet like the first time we met. It was full of awkwardness and questions we wanted to ask. The air was too thick to swallow. To think, this is only the third time I’ve met him and he’s in my house. Maybe it’s just entertaining for him to see how civilians live. That’s why he followed.

“So, I’ll ask again. You didn’t come because you didn’t want to-” 

“I didn’t come because I was scared to face you.” I stopped stirring the honey into my tea. I even let go of the spoon to look up at him, still standing by the door. So he was scared of me. Captain Levi was scared of me? No, that couldn’t be. He just didn’t know how to define what he was feeling. 

“Scared?” He nodded and leaned against the door frame, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was like he was mad at himself for saying all of this. Maybe he was. Revealing those solider emotions again.

“When I came in on my horse, I saw your face and I saw the face of the boy next to you. I didn’t care about him, but yours… I thought that my failure on this expedition had broken the hope you had for the Scouts. If I came to your café, you would just treat me like everyone else does? Just like everyone treats the Scouts. I had found someone who understands the underground and who seems to understand the Scouts, and then that look on your face… it was like it was over.”  

“My look was concern. I told you that.”

“But in a town full of people looking up at you with anger and hatred in their eyes, how do you tell the difference?” I’d give him that. I was surrounded by people swearing and glaring up at him. I was just a bit hurt that he misread my emotions after I told him what I thought. He wasn’t scared, but he was bad at precepting people’s feelings. That could add to the rumor of him being emotionless. He wasn’t emotionless, he just didn’t have to ability to deal with the mass amount of emotions he gets.

You’ve only talked to him one and a half times, Eva. How are you talking like you know him?

“What made you come here then? You came when you knew I had closed. Was it to avoid everyone?”

“I was here earlier, I just didn’t have the courage to face you and everyone in that café. Especially that one boy you always have next to you.” That made me laugh out loud. Humanity’s Strongest was annoyed at Jonas and scared of me. What kind of power do I have over him? The tea he likes? Why was he so worried about Jonas? 

“That boy’s name is Jonas and he’s a delivery boy for Reeve’s Company. He’s around me a lot because he’s the delivery boy for that area of Trost and he likes to talk a lot. He also lives around here too.” 

“Your hand?” He reached out a slim finger to point at my bandages and I held my hand up. He had probably seen Jonas bandage it again today. 

“My skin splits from being so dry. I get it from work. I haven’t found a good balm to heal it though.” He closed his eyes.

“I come back from an expedition and you’re the one who’s hurt.” That hit something in my core. I looked up at him from the tea and his eyes were staring again. No look to the side and not from the peripheral. It was like when I was cleaning the tables. This feeling… with a Captain of the Scouts. That was dangerous for my sanity. I wondered if he felt the same.

I walked over and sat down on the couch that was facing him and set the tea down, one cup across from the other. 

“Again, to make sure you understand in that over-calculating brain of yours, Captain. My hope isn’t broken. There will be bad expeditions and there will be good ones, but to me, having bad ones will always be better than not having any. My look was concern for you. You were at the very back, but I thought you would be near Commander Erwin. I couldn’t find you anywhere, so I was the one who was scared. When I saw you, the way that you looked, I was concerned for how you felt, physically and mentally.” That made him lower his gaze to the ground again. I wished I swept last night. 

“Who are you to feel concern for me?” If I didn’t know where he came from, I would have been offended by his question. Truthfully, I was a little hurt that he said it that way, but I knew what he meant. In the underground, those who cared about you were those who used you or were in the same boat as you. I wasn’t a Scout and he knew I couldn’t possibly use him in this situation. He was confused why I had given him any thought, as his normal life would have nothing to do with me. Why didn’t I shy away from him and revere him as an scary, emotionless Scout?

“I’m someone who cares. Someone who’s still confused about you, personally. Why did he come into my café? Why does he keep coming? Someone who knows only a fraction of what it’s like to live in this world and someone who knows nothing about what you have to go through everyday. I’m not a Scout, I’m not a soldier, hell, I don’t think I could punch anyone hard enough to hurt them, but I do know what it feels to lose people and what it feels like to be judged by them too. So, I guess I’m someone who’s game for understanding you, too. You’re concerned about me too. My hands.” He didn’t answer, he just kept looking at his shoes on the floor. What’s so interesting about them? 

“I am concerned, yes. I don’t know why I feel so concerned about the opinions and condition of someone I’ve only talked to on two separate occasions. I’m not a civilian, nor do I live a normal life, but I guess I’m someone who is also game for creating normal. Starting with your tea. I went to your café on a recommendation from a friend and I came back because you gave me some thread of normalcy to hold onto. Sitting here and in that café, I don’t feel like Captain Levi. I just feel like Levi, whoever that is. No titans, no paperwork; just tea.” I smiled up at him and maybe my cheeks were a little warm too. It was just the tea being too hot, that’s what it was. 

“Well, Mr. Levi. Come drink some tea and sink into normalcy. We can talk about anything you want.” He stood up from the wall, contemplating if he was to join me on the couch. If he did, he knew he’d just signed himself up for a lifetime deal. He’d have to come to the café every month at least and he couldn’t die. That would ruin his normal and my understanding. I wasn’t all that surprised when he sat down, but still my heart felt like it was going to burst. Maybe for the first time in his life, he picked to sit instead of to stand. 

“Tea. I don’t know much about it, but I drink it from habit. What teas are good for what? You recommended me mint tea that first time.” I moved my legs up so I could sit crisscross and comfortable. 

“You’ve just asked a very, very loaded question, Levi.” 

We talked late into the night about tea and owning a café. Many cups of tea had kept us up and I had completely gotten lost in conversation that I forgot he would’ve had to leave. He didn’t leave that night, but I don’t remember who slept first or when. He just sat there, leaning with one arm of the back of his chair and one leg crossed, listening and commenting on the various teas I recommended and on what I should do to change the cafe’s layout for a better person-per-square-meter ratio. 

At one point, we had just stopped talking, each taking sips of our respective cups. There weren’t thoughts of titans, of the Scouts, or of failed exhibitions. I also got a lesson in math, so it let me understand that even without a proper education, Levi was a genius at certain things. We sat there soaking in the present. That’s probably why he forgot he had to go back to HQ or why I forgot to prep the starter dough for the morning. We didn’t care much for the future consequences. 

When I woke up, he was gone. The blanket I had given him, saying I’d go sleep in my own bed, was over me and the tea cups were clean and hung up on their rack. It was satisfying to wake up like this. Everything was light and peaceful again as opposed to waking up with Trost’s grim atmosphere. It was seven in the morning, and I was late to open the café, but I didn’t care or feel any rush. As I walked out of the door to a, probably, annoyed crowd, I felt a note in the breast pocket of my coat.

Left at 5AM to get back to HQ. See you after the next expedition.

                                                                                   -L 

Chapter Four→

Chapter Masterlist

[the-villian-i-seem-to-be]

I have a request that you don't have to do if you don't want.

Would you write a yandere William and Sherlock from Yuukokou no Moriarty? Or are you not interested?

Damn! Yandere William and Yandere Sherlock!! Ok so both or separate? I'll do both!!

(Y/N) could feel themselves grow weary of the rising tension between her and Sherlock. You see, (Y/N) is a journalist who loves to write about Sherlocks cases in the newspaper. They always are accompanying him for cases with Dr. Watson, even if the detective dislikes her nosy attitude to his work life and personal life. But the journalist could tell he was warming up to her. Even if it was only.

Anyway, she decided to accompany Sherlock and Dr. Watson on another case. Though the doctor had caught the flu and had given her his train ticket to make sure Sherlock wouldn't cause trouble on one of his cases with Inspector Lestrade. So she agreed and three rode off to York for his case. Though it was a waste of time in detectives eyes once he couldn't find what he was looking for. He started spew a few curses under his breath once Mr. Lestrade went to get a newspaper.

Saying he'll come to the train car a bit later before it takes off. So the journalist and detective were alone on the boarding dock. Heading to their train. "Honestly, to hell with your death by illness. Get yourself killed, seriously.."

Sherlock utters with clear agitation in his voice. "Aw, c'mon detective Sherlock. It's okay, we can always come back and take another look around!" The (h/c)-nette smiles, hoping it would ease his worries.

Which didn't work because it seemed as if he grew more upset.

"I should of shot him when I could. If I had..."

(Y/N)'s knew he was talking about the Mr. Hope case. Though she never thought he should of killed him! "Sherlock-!" He cuts her off, "if I had killed I would have been one step closer to a huge mystery!"

"We both know that you would of done it if given the chance! You don't even care for the mystery, only the story that gets coverage!" "That isn't true!" The journalist hollars, making Sherlock turn quiet.

Sucking in a shaky breath, they try to speak more calmly. "I may go on your cases for a story. But I also care about the people in them. Sherlock, I don't want to write a article about you killing a man, and for what? A bigger mystery that you want to solve?"

"I.. I thought you weren't like that, I thought you actually seeked the truth, but not the way I hoped for." They say, sadly starring at the dark haired male in front of them. "I'll meet you in train car shortly, I-I, need a minute to calm my nerves." As the woman walks off, Sherlock scowls at his actions.

"That is-I didn't-" the male sighs and ruffles his hair. His mood and thoughts in a jumble. Pulling out a cigarette, he lights it up. Taking in the toxic fumes into his lungs to calm himself and clear his head.

(Y/N) finds herself siting in the food car, she rather be on her lonsome than deal with a unpleasant Sherlock. He was acting childish and locked her out of their shared car. So she decided to wait for his anger to subsidize. Though they were growing antsy and they needed to talk this out with Sherlock. She didn't want their supposed "one sided friendship" to end!? He let her try his cigarette once.

Only after, thought she was dying after taking a puff of the cancer stick and he laughed at her. Not only that, but she was given the privilege to hear him play the violin once before he kicked her out of his house for bothering him! Sighing, she felt her pumped up spirit slowly fading into a husk.

"Enough sulking, get a grip!" She sits up and slaps her cheeks. Frightening the waiter that waited for her to make her order. "M-miss are you alright?" Turning her eyes to the waiter with determination, she nods. Telling the waiter she wasn't ready to order yet.

Getting out of her seat, she was about to head over to Sherlock. Though her eyes find a familiar blond headed man sitting in one of the booths a little farther from her's.

Stepping cautiously to his booth, she holds her head up high an stands in front of him. "Mr. Professor Moriarty..?" The blonde male looks up from his empty dish and his red rubies stare at her with confusion and another emotion she couldn't quite place. "Mr. Professor! It truly is you!"

"My god, how are you? It's been quite awhile since I saw you." The mathematician smiles at her, "yes, hello Ms. (Y/N), I am well. How are you?"

The woman smiles gleefully, "yes I have-!" She held back her tongue as the memories with Sherlock resurface. Yet her smile stayed stuck to her lips. "Uh.. I should go. I don't want to over stay my welcome-" "there's no need for you to leave just yet. Me and my brother were getting quite bored. Please sit awhile, it will be nice to talk once more."

Mr. Moriarty says politely, letting her join them. The Journalist tries to force herself to decline, yet, she may never take this opportunity to sit to a nobleman as interesting as him ever again. She couldn't miss her chance! She can just make some small chit chat then run off after to talk to Sherlock! Genius!

"Alright.. But not for long, I need to talk with a friend of mine after." "A friend?" The second oldest Moriarty questions, his tone slightly cold. (Y/N) doesn't bother to notice his tone and sits down next to Williams brother. "Yes, I came here with a friend, well, in my opinion. I'm pretty sure he hates my guts now, but he's still a close companion of mine" (Y/N) chuckles dryly.

"I, see. I hope the two of you are, well." He replies stiffly, hiding a unhappy look with a smile. Though his observant brother could tell that he was slowly growing annoyed by her words.

"If you do mind me asking, but how do you know of my brother Ms. (Y/N)?" Louis asks her, her focus shifts to the male next to her.

Her eyes light up at Louis. "Ah, we met on the Noahtic. I was covering a story about a performance that was going to be held on it. I met Mr. Moriarty at a small gathering held on the ship floors. I offered him a drink and the two of us chatted for awhile." (Y/N) said with sheepish grin.

"Then I heard a murder had occured durring the performance. I was so shocked yet, forgive me for saying this, but thrilled! This was something that needed to be shown to the public- oh um, forgive me for blabbering!" (Y/N) blurted out, covering her mouth with her hand to stop herself.

William just chuckles at her, shaking his head. "It's quite alright. I didn't know you were so passionate about your job. I find it very endearing and admirable." (Y/N) flushed from his compliments, letting her hand fall to her lap as she gave him a sweet smile. "Thank you, Professor Moriarty. That's very kind of you."

Before William could say another word, Inspector Lestrade walks up to the booth. "(L/N)?" Looking up to see who had called her, she sees the Inspector. Quickly getting up from her seat, she greets him awkwardly.

"Is this the man you said that "hates your guts" ?" William questions, though his eyes don't glare at him. "NO, NO, NO, NO!" Flailing her hands around, she tries to clear up the misunderstanding. "I was joking!"

"Mr. Lestrade doesn't hate me! I was talking about someone else! Not him!!" The journalist cries out, the Inspector sighs and shakes his head.

"I apologize for my acquaintance, Mr..?" "Oh, this is Professor Moriarty! And the one sitting across from is his brother." (Y/N) introduces them to Mr. Lestrade like nothing had ever happened. Or at least pretending too.

"Professor Moriarty and Mr. Moriarty, this is Inspector Lestrade. He's another good friend of mine. He works for the Scotland Yard. Pretty neat right?"

(Y/N) winks, doing small jazz hands to make his introduction a little interesting. "(Y/N), why aren't you with-" before the Inspector could finish his sentence. A shrill scream of woman was heard.

~°~

Running to source of the scream. (Y/N) follows behind the youngest Moriarty and Inspector Lestrade. She bumps into one of the passengers and apologizes. Not looking at who she bumped into.

(Y/N) could hear Sherlock and Professor Moriarty discus. Growing immensely curious, she wiggled her way through the two men. Walking up to Sherlock and

"What happened?!" She said, but mostly to Sherlock who arrived before her. Who was looking through a peep hole of one of the rooms inside the train car.

"Look for yourself." He remarks, stepping away from the peep hole. (Y/N) hesitates for a moment, though creates false courage to see what happened. But was then was stopped by Sherlocks hand on her shoulder.

He didn't stare at her in the eye like normally, instead her shirt. Confused, (Y/N) looks down, she regrets it soon after. There, on her shirt was fresh blood. Even some smeared on her hands. "What.."

All eyes focused solely on her, the air quiet as she was panicking inside her mind. "It seems we have a valuable prize in our game now to make things more interesting." William said to the shocked detective, who gave the noble man a twisted smirk. "I guess so, I don't plan on losing, Liam." A disturbing smile crawls onto the crime consultant.

"Neither do I."

(Okay, this ask went a LOT longer than expected. I wanted to make it shorter but a rush of creativity hit me because I was re-watching ep 10 of Yuukoku No Moriarty! And reading the manga!! Yes!! And I hope I made them very Yandere-ish.)

[kinsurou]

38 and Dabi? Maybe Hawks as well? If possible?

38. “You’re n-not, um, w-wearing anything under that, are you…?”

+Threesome (Spitroasting)

This was supposed to be short! ;-;

(Another thing, this is separate from the Forgive me lord serie, but Hawk's role is a bit similar to what I have planned out!)

Dabi stood behind you while he took a hold of your hips, his long, black claws that could easily slit your throat open without much of an effort, made their way down your sides, getting tangled into the fabric of your tank top and with a lazy tug, they slowly began tearing it with a terrifying accuracy that could easily be compared to that of a dagger.

You couldn’t stop squirming in place, shivering from the contrast in temperatures between his body and the mild coldness seeping through the room.

“Dabi, please stop ruining my clothes! That was my favorite shirt!” Your complaints were ignored, rapidly turning into soft gasps as one of the demon’s hands cupped your chest the moment the black top fell off your body. Those same hands began fondling the mounds in your chest that was covered in fine, intricate layers of lace.

All in the midst of being under Keigo’s firm stare, who hadn’t left his spot on your couch. He was tense, flustered as he took in the way your body kept squirming animatedly under the fiend’s touch.

“What in the world are you doing?!” He couldn’t help asking, his voice was hoarse, raspier than usual from the dry feeling at the back of his throat. His nails dug their way into his thighs as a sorry attempt to keep himself grounded. There was something in the air that made him feel dizzy, clouding his mind with nothing but burning desire.

“I’ll make you a deal, bird brain…” Dabi looked at Keigo in the eye, showing the other male just how much he adored your body. In fact, he also began palming your sex over the fabric of your shorts. “If you can make her cum...If you can make her feel better than I’ve ever done, then I’ll release her from my hold and I’ll just take my leave.” 

“W-wait!” You protested, gripping Dabi’s forearm that encircled your body so casually, almost like he wasn’t pleasing you before one of your closest friends and coworker, who was yet to make a move. Through your half-closed eyes, the sight from a growing erection straining against his pants was remarkably evident, if that wasn't good enough of a hint, then watching his breath become heavier definitely had to be “Y-You said...ngggh! That I couldn’t be please b-by anyonebutyou!” 

Dabi pinched your nipple softly, then began rubbing the hard nub in a circular motion. The malicious grin on his face kept growing as his hands kept sending sparks of arousal through your shaking body. 

If there was something he adored more than wine, it was making his human vessel squirm underneath him. 

“I can help you with that.” He hummed, pleased when he inhaled the sweet smell of your dampness slowly beginning to coat his hand. His next action was leaving a kiss on the mark over your neck, followed by a soft bite over the skin that left behind a burning sensation over the spot of burgundy.

As soon as the burn faded, something inside you felt completely different. Like a weight being lifted off from your soul...Was that Dabi’s hold over you? The sinister hold that prevented any other human, or demon from taking what belonged to him?

“There, now he might actually have a chance.” Arrogance dripped from his voice like venom itself, followed by that same, suffocating feeling overflowing the air, clouding your thoughts with voracious lust, from the looks of it, Keigo was also being affected by this familiar feeling, he was breathing harshly and his cheeks were flushed, beads of sweat rolled down the sides of his face. “What are you waiting for, hunter?”

Dabi released you from his delicious torture, just to follow by grabbing the sides of the piece of denim around your hips so he could pull the material upwards. A yelp came out through parted, drooling lips when the fabric pressed tightly against your wet slit.

All your attention was completely focused on bucking in place, painfully excited by the things Dabi was doing to you, it was nothing compared to his usual treatment and yet, you were already feeling desperate to be fucked silly.

You had completely forgotten about the other male in the room, who stood up from his seat and advanced towards the both of you with a sluggish pace, each and every single one of his thoughts had been taken over by desire and even though his main goal was to release you from the demon’s clutches, at that moment a different goal had taken over his priorities.

“S-Stop it, Dabi!” Your hands clung to the much bigger ones at your sides in a pathetic attempt to stop Dabi’s relentless teasing, the more you both kept this one-sided struggle for dominance, the more those shorts buried themselves in place between your damp folds. Small gasps escaped through your lips each time Dabi made you jolt in place. 

“What? Is this too much for you, little one?” The only response he got was the feeling your nails digging themselves into his forearm, which only served to make him hiss, pleased that something as simple as this was enough to make you shake and piss you off this much at the same time. 

He watched your body leaning forward, struggling to keep the remainings of your sanity before he could actually make you cum.

A pair of well-polished shoes came into vision, it was enough to get your attention away from the man standing behind you, much to his annoyance. When you looked back up with a flushed face and desire-filled eyes, you came face to face with Keigo, the emotions flowing in his golden eyes were no different from yours.

He took your cheek into his hand in such a tender manner, it was a complete contrast from everything he was feeling at that moment. Without thinking twice, he pulled your face into one of the sloppiest kisses you’ve ever shared. 

“There we go,” Dabi smirked to himself, enjoying the arranged symphony between your needy moans and the hunter’s sharp grunts, whose hands came up to grab the back of your neck, pulling you forwards so he could deepen the kiss. 

“Not so determined now, are you, hunter? What happened to that righteous fury of yours? Oh, right. It’s all gone! All in favor of having the opportunity to sleep with the woman you’ve wanted for so long.” He laughed darkly.

“Can’t say I blame you. She’s such a unique one even among your kind.”

Dabi’s words dragged you out from the stupor provoked by that fog coursing through the air, it made you gather enough willpower to let go of him to place your hands over Keigo’s chest, before pushing him away slightly to gasp for air. 

“What?” You gasped, focusing your attention on anything else but the heated gaze coming from those golden eyes before you. 

The open windows that allowed the rain outside to be heard loud and clear inside the apartment. 

The succulent at the top of the coffee table with its leaves at the bottom sightly wilted from the many times Dabi had overwatered it and last but not least, the music playing on the speaker that sat at the kitchen counter. 

“Dabi, stop! Keigo and I are just friends, nothing more.” You gave the blond a hesitant look “...Right, Keigo?” 

But he didn’t answer your question, instead, he just gave you a look filled with all of these untold feelings, before once again capturing your mouth in a desperate kiss. 

“Sorry dove...But he’s right.” He pulled away just to say those words before he began devouring your swollen lips for the third time that day.

As much as he was enjoying the show, Dabi wasn’t the kind of guy to just stand there and watch, this was supposed to be a competition, after all. So he began kissing the side of your neck. His warm breath and the way he kept sinking his fangs into your sensitive skin only made your pleading whimpers become louder with each bite left behind. Not even a turtleneck could help you save a single speck of your dignity after this.

“Turn around, little one. Let your so-called friend have a taste of your sweet body.” Dabi whispered in your ear, pulling you by the waist and slowly turning you to face him instead, and as quickly as your back faced Keigo, he pulled you even closer to his warm body and began rutting against your rear. 

“Sorry Dove,” Keigo groaned into the back of your neck, the silky ends of his hair tickling your nape every time he made the slightest of movements “but I can’t hide how I feel any longer…” he continued moving against your trembling body. 

Dabi kept watching with a glint in his eye before he too, began kissing your abused lips. He touched your chest with both hands, slowly unclipping your bra by the front, as much as he liked how the black lingerie complimented your body, he actually preferred the bare appearance.

Speaking of bare…

The rustling of clothes caught your attention, after your head became clear for a few minutes, you finally realized the sounds came from your shorts that were being pulled down. Keigo was desperate to satiate this burning feeling inside his chest that kept growing like it was ordering him to hurry up. 

However, he was completely caught off guard when he hooked his fingers inside the sides of your clothes, and only came to contact with a single layer of fabric, the realization made him stop moving, and when you pulled away from a growling Dabi to look at the blond standing frozen in place with his eyes wide in surprise, along with a deep shade of crimson adorning his whole face.

“You’re n-not, um, w-wearing anything under that, are you…?” He gestured with his head at your lower regions, sweating bullets at the realization you hadn’t been wearing any panties all this time. 

As disorientated as you were from everything these two were doing, that fiery attitude that caught the interest of both males when the two of them met you for the first time was still in there. 

“No, I’m not. You want to know why?” You scoffed, turning back to face Dabi with a small glare on your face, that he didn’t seem to care about. As a matter of fact, he just kept staring at the both of you with a nonchalant grin “Because this cheap copy of Satan over here kept tearing my underwear to pieces every time he wanted to have sex, and now I don’t have a single pair of panties left!”

“Not that you complained whenever it happened.” He had the nerve to reply, but after growing tired of waiting for Keigo to make a move, Dabi decided to take matters into his own hands...literally. Those same hands, that had been busy playing with your chest, grabbed the sides of the last article of clothing over your body and tugged it down roughly, leaving you completely exposed to their starved gaze. 

“What are you waiting for, bird brain?” Dabi touched your throbbing clit, making you lean on him when his digit kept rubbing at that bundle of nerves between your legs over and over again. 

“Dove, are you okay with this?” Keigo asked, swallowing nervously and sweating uncontrollably by the sight of your wet folds presented to him as a treat with arousal dripping down from your thighs and all over the floor. 

“Listen...” You were fed up with waiting “Either you guys get on with it or I’ll kick you both out to go looking for my vibrator!”

“You heard her, bird brain.” Dabi laughed, grabbing you by the shoulders before giving Keigo another smirk full with mockery “Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting now, do you?”

Breathing deeply, Keigo looked at your desperate self one more time before he grabbed your hips, pulling them closer to his own body to begin rubbing himself against the heat of your cunt. 

Having waited long enough, Keigo began undoing his pants and let them fall all the way down to his ankles, they were immediately followed by his boxer. Rather than getting the chance to look at his cock, you only felt it prodding against your sex....and finally, he used a hand to push himself slowly inside, groaning in pleasure when your soft walls stretched around him.

“Oh fuck, You feel…” He gasped “You feel so damn good....!”

Keigo began moving slowly with a steady and enjoyable rhythm. It was so different from Dabi’s usual treatment, who preferred to be rough, but always made up for it with the aftercare, but you couldn’t complain when everything they did made you feel so deliciously good. 

So much that you began leaning over Dabi’s chest unconsciously, and he took advantage of that when he released your shoulders, letting you fall over until your hands grabbed at his own pants, that’s when you came face to face with the bulge hidden underneath the demon’s clothes.

“You didn’t seriously think that I would just stand here and watch, did you, Little one?” He shoved your face into his clothed erection “Come on, don’t you want to please your master as well?”

Nodding at him with a lost smile, you quickly began undoing his pants, struggling to focus as the other male began moving faster, pushing you further against the demon with each snap of his hips. 

Finally, Dabi’s cock was released from his restraints and you quickly took him in your mouth, enjoying the feeling of having your hair pulled as he began thrusting into your mouth.

The room became the scenario for one of the most shameful of symphonies to be heard. A mixture of grunts, hissing, and moans resonated through the walls as both males continued with their little competition. 

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: Phallic Judgement"

*Surprisingly, Dionysus had gone back to Rome to cause more mischief with Hermes, this time they've brought Ares along*

Dionysus: *again disguised as a wine seller* ok gentlemen, behold. The foulest creatures to crawl on the face of the earth. *Shows just random Roman citizens*

Ares: *who for some reason decided he wanted to disguise himself as the world's most intimidating slave* ......ugh....the goats? *Sees a goat*

Hermes: *cleverly disgusted as farmer* haha no. You see, these guys are absolutely weird. They insist of "rationing" Sapa, they have taxes for literally existing and above all.....their wine is watered down! But they have the best bread I've ever tasted though.

Ares: ... really?

Dionysus: don't be fooled by their baked goods my dudes. These are cruel and unrelenting scum folk. Uncultured, ignorant, and above all....they've inslaved every single country they've conquered.

Hermes: .....it's mostly about the wine isn't it?

Dionysus: ....*turns dramatically* their most unforgiving sin.

Ares: *has wondered off to see a statue of himself*.....my dick isn't THAT small.......*looks at the name plate saying "Mars"* ......I can't believe these guys misspelled my name....*takes some charcoal, scratches out Mars and writes Ares*

Centurion Gaurd: Excuse me slave! Where is your master! Slaves are not allowed near the devine statue of the gods.*sees that Ares has wrote his name on the statue's nameplate* What the?

Ares: *doesn't know the centurion was referring to him considering he's in disguise* .........*turns to the see the back of the statue* ....at least they got the ass right.

Centurion Gaurd: EXCUSE ME! Please stop making remarks about the sacred statue! You've defaced sacred property!

Ares: *slowly peaks over to the centurion* ....hey ugh there's a thing on your helmet*

Centurion Gaurd: oh really? *Pats around his helmet* where?

Ares: *points to the centurion's face* There's a shit attitude a little all over your FuCkInG ugly mug.

Centurion Gaurd: *realising what he meant* YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!

Dionysus: *walks into the situation* Oh there you are Skippy! Bad boy I thought I told you to stay close to me and not open your mouth! *takes a little stick and weakly whips Ares's shoulder with a single thing of wheat*

Ares: *confused* ...wut?

Centurion Gaurd: Is there YOUR disrespectful slave?

Ares: wait you said I was going to be a noblem-*gets a loaf of bread in his mouth by Hermes*

Hermes: please shut up or we'll leave you here to fend for yourself.

Ares: *kinda just enjoying the bread* hmfhmf.

Dionysus: You see my good sir, my slave is extremely stupid, dumb and has testicles the size of grapeseeds. He was used as a human kickball when he was an infant and was raised by goats. He can't help himself sometimes. *Tries to clean the charcoal off the statue*

Ares: *angry noises* ?!?

Centurion Gaurd: .....Ok...you have the pay the "Disrespectful Slave" tax fine.

Dionysus: .....*grumbles and takes a bag filled with gold coins* ....*gives it begrudgingly* .....*grits his teeth* have....a...good day.

Centurion Gaurd: *takes the gold and sees that it's drachma* .....hmm.....*takes out a piece of paper with a semi-crude wanted poster of Dionysus, Apollo and Hermes* ......hmm.....I watching you....sir. *leaves to find Mortus*

Dionysus: *turns to Ares and glares at him* ....you owe me 20 drachma.

Ares: *has finished eat the bread* Why? Don't these mortals know we're gods?

Dionysus: No! We're here in disguise so that was can destroy the city again. You are here to make sure the country doesn't get a chance to get back up.

Ares: Fuck yah. *Literally has no idea what he agreed to*

Hermes: *saw the wanted poster in the centurion's hand* ugh...guys we REALLY need to finish what we came here for because they're definitely on to us.

Dionysus: yeah yeah I know....come on let's go. I want to destroy the coliseum again.

Ares: what's a coliseum?

Dionysus: *suddenly a huge grin forms across his face* Hermes .....is the coliseum....open?

Hermes: let me check. *Literally speeds next to the coliseum and saw a Roman sign that says "Grand Re-Opening" and zips back to Dionysus* yeah. It's open.

Dionysus: perfect. *Pops a waterskin filled with wine, and chugs it* oh gods I'm FuCkInG dry. It's like this place sucks your very essence or something.

Hermes: hmm....yeah, shame really. *as he was following Dionysus and Ares, he accidentally dumbs into a familiar face* oops sorry miss.

Octavia: *turns around with a baby in her arms that looks suspiciously familiar* Oh pardon me sir. I didn't mean to bump into, the market seems rather busy today doesn't it?

Hermes: It's ok, I was just heading to-*knotices the baby* .....ugh...

Caius the baby: *smiles at Hermes as if he knew Hermes was his dad* ba-ba :D

Octavia: Oh sweetie, daddy is working. Oh children are so wonderous, even at a few months old, they have such an imagination. By the way, have we met before? You look so familiar....are you from the countryside?

Hermes: uuggggh *trying his best to not look Octavia in the eye* yeah, I get that all the time. Trust me I have some of my own, I mean children that is. Also no I don't think I have? *Literally hoping she doesn't recognize him even though he shape shifted into her husband a year ago*

Caius: *still happily cooing over his real dad*

Dionysus: come on buddy le-*put two and two together and scowls at Hermes* ......you didn't.

Hermes: ugh....

Dionysus: nevermind we're off! *He pulls Hermes to the direction of the coliseum*

Octavia: hmmm what a strange young man. He's handsome though.

Caius: *coos in disappointment* :(

*later*

Dionysus: *rubs his hands* hehehehehe....

Hermes: this better be worth it. I thought we would write our names on the temple walls here or something.

A Roman Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen! This grand reopening of the Coliseum shall be in honor of our Lord and Emperor Caeser!

Caeser: *does the Royal British wave*

Dionysus: peeeeerfect.

Hermes: ......hey I got to ask...why did you bring Ares?

Dionysus: some bulky bastard is currently the head champion gladiator here, he use to live on Crete before the Romans decided to kidnap a few warriors there....let's just say my pettiness will come with effort.

Hermes: ......ok seriously man what are talking about?

Dionysus: look no one says that their dick is bigger than mine and actually gets away with it.

Hermes: ....you know....you could just smite someone. I mean it's not graceful....but it's effective.

Dionysus: hoho, I'm going to make this extra dramatic.

The Roman Announcer: And now! You're great champion, Maximus the Well-Endowed!

Maximus: *a huge, hulking man came out, roars out* HAIL CAESAR! *Leans to the announcer* I am going to get my 20 hot virgin women after this right?

Announcer: *whispers* yes yes. AND HIS CHALLENGER *looks at a note which was scribbled on his hand* ..... "Skippy the Not-Well-Endowed"! *Looks back his hand still not believing what he had read*

Ares: *is just happy to get into a fight, however was oddly enough only was only wearing a loin cloth and a helmet, armed with a shield and spear* ......oh boy, a whole stadium just for killing? These people rock!

Hermes: ........you didn't....

Dionysus: yep.

Ares: *steps side to side like an exited kid* comeoncomeoncomeonstartthefighting.

Maximus: Alright Skippy, time to end your tiny dicked existence. *Raised his sword on to Ares but Ares was able to break it with his helmet* !?

Ares: ....that's it?

Maximum: *confused* ugh....*waves to order in more weapons, all of which fail to hurt Ares*

Ares: .......aw come on...you guys have some shitty ass weapons. Bet YOUR weapon is just as shit.

Maximus: grrrrr.....YOU PUNY SLAVE! *Rips off his armored skirt* See! You're fucking wrong!

Roman crowd: *gasps*

Dionysus: .....

Hermes: *whistles* holyshit....dude this guy is hung.

Dionysus: If there's one god who can contest me....the only god who's dick is so epic, so powerful, so irresistible, so near perfect......that Aphrodite can't FuCkInG resist it on a daily basis.

Hermes: Heracles?

Dionysus: No buddy, Ares. Ares is the guy who's dick is better than mine I mean come on a guy who shags the goddess of love more times than any living thing HAS to have something going on down there

Some Roman Karen: EXCUSE me is pronounced Venus! We don't use greek words here.

Dionysus: Please leave me alone lady.

Some Roman Karen: *rhees in anger*

Dionysus and Hermes: *both are struggling to ignore her*

Ares: ....ok...that dick of your isn't that great.....*rips off his loin cloth* .....THIS....is a dick.

Crowd: *the women and gay men swoons over the perfect of Ares's bare body, men quake and cringe at their own feeble members and put to shame*

Caesar: *completely unimpressed and decided to leave* hmf. Pathetic.

Maximus: *wriggles in shame* HOW c-C-C-could this be?! The most PERFECT COCK? Oh my gods why is it fucking glowing?!

Ares: ....what you don't shave yourself weekly? I mean come on man that's how you keep the ladies coming back?

Maximus: *starts crying a little*

Dionysus: *cackling uncontrollably* SO THATS HIS SECRET! *writes on a piece of paper saying "shave, dick, weekly"*

Hermes: *still not fully understanding why all of this* ........you brought Ares here JUST to emasculate some gladiator?

Dionysus: Oh much more than that Herms.....much much m-

Roman Karen: EXCUSE YOU SIR ITS MERCURY!

Dionysus: *has had enough and turned her into a chicken* there much better.

Hermes: .....are you ok? Did you have your wine today?

Dionysus: I RAN OUT OF WINE LONG AGO!

Hermes: *deep sigh* not again.

Ares: *now in full naked display* ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!? *The crowd roared and cheered*

Dionysus: well....yah want to set the animals free from their cages?

Hermes: fuk ye-*feels a tough and strong hand practically crushing his shoulder* .....*turns to see an old man who clearly was Zeus* .....

Zeus: .....boys.....

Dionysus and Hermes: .....Uh Oh.

Zeus: *took each of them by their ears like a discontented mother* you're BOTH grounded for bothering these mortals and above all abusing the dark, unholy power of the sacred male member ....if I had a third arm it would be reserved for Ares. *Looks down at Ares now just doing some naked dance for the crowd*........*deep and disappointed sigh*

Dionysus: but dad, I do that like everyday.

Zeus: I don't care if I don't discipline you or Hermes right the now, Hera will have MY male member nailed to the wall.

(Later that day)

Mortus: *inner noir detective monologue* after several months, nothing. Absolutely nothing. The suspects disappeared from the face of the empire. Likely their crimes have caught up with them. My only consolation to solving this case....is the mysterious birth of my son and my faithful wife. .... speaking of which...why does Caius have blue eyes? Me and Octavia have brown.....did ...she?....nah that's impossible.

The Centurion from earlier: MY LORD! I FOUND THE SUSPECTS!

Mortus: *dramatically turns around* This better be the right ones this time.

*much later after apparently an orgy broke out at the coliseum*

Mortus: .... Absolutely disgusting. Practicing Sexual Festivities without a license is punishable by crucifixion, Mark.

The Announcer (Mark): B-b-but sir! It wasn't my fault! Some slave was to challenge Maximus and they just decided to remove their clothing and everyone went wild! ....to be fair the slave did look a little attractive BUT the fornicating ceased once the slave disappeared.

Mortus:....was he accompanied by a portly, dark haired ..... individual?......an extremely attractive blonde slave and a thinner more athletic young man with brown hair?

The Announcer: ...hmm...well yes minus the other slave.

Mortus: Hmmm.....the plot thickens.....are these the mysterious criminals that destroyed the coliseum last year?....What is the motivated behind these depraved individuals?.....

The Announcer: ugh...why are you talking to yourself?

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 6

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. There's non-explicit smut in this part!

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Remember that questionable morals remark? Yea, this chapter is the reason. Y/N, girl, you gotta stop... But at least it's kinda funny. Okay, it's pretty damn hilarious.

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She is amazing. I larb her. 💙

"And then I was like 'No Way!' and he was like 'Totally' and that's how I met Tony Stark," I finished excitedly, opposite a laughing Mr. Davies. The story of how I met Iron Man was a total hit with the teacher and my vigorous mimicking of the facial expressions that described my feelings during the time had my teacher busting a gut something loud. 

"I honestly have some trouble believing that but - hey, what the hell, he's a billionaire superhero, it's basically expected for him to be a little strange," When his laughing fit was over, Mr. Davies reminded me he was, in fact, a psychology doctor. There was serious brain power under that easygoing attitude.

I expected detention to be bearable in his company but Mr. Davies rose above expectations, welcoming me with another cup of tea and some colouring pages. Admittedly, I contemplated stealing some - those mandalas were really captivating.

"Oh, he's strange alright, but nothing I can't handle," I twirled a pencil between my fingers. 

Mr. Davies grinned knowingly, too knowingly for my comfort, and I had no choice but to make a stone face before looking him in the eye. 

He smirked. "So, anything else interesting for you going on?" 

"Nah, not much. Really looking forward to being done with high school and going out into the bigger world, y'know."

"You turned 18 already, right?" I nodded in confirmation. "Maybe get a job, something part-time? OsCorp always hands these leaflets out, they're looking for lab assistants."

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't need a job. Plus, I'm sure Bruce-err, Doctor Banner would smash me if I went to work at OsCorp," I glossed over my slip-up, hoping Mr. Davies would do the same. But no such luck happened.

"Right. Me and Bruce, we actually go way back," He smiled, stirring his tea. I perked up in interest. "We studied psychology together, sat next to each other in half of our classes. It's a shame what happened to him but I hope he's happy now," Mr. Davies was smiling earnestly, looking out of the window where rain had started flowing down on the glass.

"Really? That's cool," I said, lacking anything else to add to his statement.

"He used to skip classes and always lost his glasses even though they'd be on top of his head," My teacher continued. "Banner was actually quite a rowdy student," He added with a smirk.

"Hah, he still routinely loses his glasses, although he wears them on a string around his neck now," I chuckled fondly. Bruce was such a dork.

I chatted with Mr. Davies some more, just casual conversation about everything and nothing in between. His parents were hippies, he had two moms and one dad and according to him, Thor was very overrated. I didn't even notice we were up in each other's space until our knees brushed when Mr. Davies - "Call me Will" - was showing me the pictures of his cats, dog and lizard. I figured that as the hippy child, personal space was kind of a foreign concept to him - and that rang true, I've seen Will give out more shoulder grabs and high fives than anyone else sans the gym teacher.

The clock's ding announced 6 PM and I quickly gathered my things, hastily saying goodbye. I was stopped though.

"If you don't mind a quick stop at my house, I can drop you off. It's pouring buckets outside and I would hate you to get sick," Will spoke casually. 

Technically, I knew he was bending some rules of conduct. But it was also 55° outside and the water coming from the sky was unlikely to be warm. So I caved without any guilty conscience, obediently following Mr. Davies -Will- to the parking lot where a new-ish Jeep Cherokee proudly stood amongst several older, less gently used cars. With New York city traffic being the way it is, I didn't text Bruce yet, fully expecting for the trip to take a whole hour if not more. 

Thankfully the parking gods were merciful and Will managed to find a spot right across his two-story townhouse. "You're welcome to come in if you feel comfortable, I just need to fetch some documents," He said.

And that's where I fucked up. I nodded affirmatively, I followed him through the door and made myself as comfortable as I could on his living room couch. It was a cozy home, his iguana chilled opposite me in it's terrarium and the little mutt that was his dog really reminded me of the atrocity that my parents used to own before they had me. It yipped and yapped, wagging it's bushy tail at me and demanding pets.

The steaming tea mug was dutifully placed in my hand by Will who hopped upstairs immediately after that, skipping steps. I watched the man with a benign stare: he'd removed his sweater and I could see the defined muscles of his back and the admirable backside that he possessed. There was no harm in looking respectfully, right?

I was halfway through my mug when Will came back down, brandishing a truly impressive stack of manila folders, setting it on a nearby table before sitting down on the other end of the couch, maintaining a respectful distance between us. We chatted some more and the more he spoke about his current research, the more passionate he became; by the end of his truly epic description of the effects that anti-depressants have on the learning process of depressed adolescents, I was mesmerized by the way his pink lips formed words.

Sitting with my calves tucked under my butt, leaning against the armrest , I was a goner. He caught my eye, diverting his own stare from my exposed legs to the side, blinking furiously. It calmed my spirits somewhat, knowing that I wasn't the only one affected by the sudden change of atmosphere in the room. My mug landed on the low table with a loud clang as I leaned forward, the sleeves of my sweater accidentally brushing against his leg.

Will cleared his throat and I startled, tilting my head up towards him in confusion. He was staring at me with a mix of fear and delight in his eyes, like a boy preparing for his first kiss. I would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation if the darkness in his stormy grey eyes didn't make my own breath do somersaults somewhere between my lungs and my esophagus.

Fifteen minutes later, both my sweater and my panties were thrown somewhere in the furthest end of the room and those thin lips were making me see stars. For some reason he was convinced I'd had only typical teenage disappointing sex up to this point and was really eager to show me what a grown man can do. I mean, I wasn't complaining, he was really, really good with his mouth - but I didn't have all night, so I flipped the tables and showed off my own oral skills until he had to bodily remove me from his dick and lift me onto it. Every movement felt surreal, like I was living in a dream. Despite my common sense yelling expletives at me, I kissed Will back with twice the heat and none of the finesse, each of us reaching the peak nearly in sync.

"Can I get that ride to the tower now?"

Will let out a decidedly unmanly squeak when he realised where exactly he'd be taking me after we did what we'd done. I smiled at him in hopes of calming down the man but it seemed it came out more predatory. He shivered, his dick twitching within me.

I texted Bruce the same time I was getting into Will's car. My brain was still somewhat in a state of shock and I used the brief moment to tidy up my hair and makeup, taking note of my sex-flushed face. I only hoped I didn't stink like man-sweat and Will's cologne. 

Another realization was startled out of me: that was my first time having had sex without a condom. I was on birth control since I was fourteen so pregnancy wasn't a scare; currently, I was more worried about the mildly uncomfortable, wet feeling in my panties where my teacher's cum had pooled out.

Yikes. That moment Will took a careful monitoring of my facial expression and it took me a lot to keep it somewhere between neutral and happy. Internally, I was freaking the fuck out, torn between horror and incredible arousal.

It morphed into full fledged mortification when I saw Bruce's lab coat from afar, the man standing next to the entrance door. Having had a dumb moment, I texted Banner that a former schoolmate of his was the one giving me a ride and it really shouldn't have been a surprise that Bruce would go downstairs to greet Will.

'Fuck you, you dumbass,' was my approximate train of thought, directed at myself, when all three of us gathered, hiding from the cold rain and the autumn wind under the safety of the roof. Both men shared a brief, warm embrace before Bruce's arm snaked around my waist.

"You go upstairs, okay? I don't want you to get sick," Banner said, eyeing the disastrous weather.

I looked at Will, finding his eyebrow cocked at Bruce's frivolous gesture and a faint flush blossoming on his face. The man shuffled awkwardly, giving me a small wave and a tight-lipped smile before turning his attention back to Bruce. I wished him good night, hastily retreating into the safety of the elevator.

"What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fu-u-uck..." I chanted under my breath, acutely aware of the blossoming bruises on my hips where my teacher held me, the dampness of my underwear. 

The elevator doors opened, revealing the common room couch being occupied by Wanda. Peter, Wanda's brother and the two resident super soldiers setting the table for dinner. Tony was off bickering with Loki and Strange by the coffee maker and Thor was standing outside on the patio, doing something very strange with his hands and his hammer. Was he summoning the shitty weather?! The audacity!

"Hey," Wanda greeted me quietly. Her eyebrows raised upon seeing my face full of perplexed confusion. "You okay?.. Wait, what? Tell me you did not!" As my internal crisis reached its peak, I remembered that a) Wanda is a telepath and b) There were other people in the room.

One ungraceful landing next to her later, I turned my bleary stare onto her. "Oops?" I offered in the way of explanation. What was I supposed to say if I didn't know for myself what the devil possessed me to fuck my social studies teacher after school? He was fucking hot, okay.

The witch smirked, obviously following my defensive internal monologue. "Oops?" Her tone was laced with gleeful sarcasm.

"I'm a human disaster," I groaned, finally caving in and palming my face. Wanda began snickering. "I have zero impulse control," I continued wallowing in self-pity. The redhead just cackled harder.

"I feel so attacked right now," Tony's voice loudly announced the man's presence. I was thankful for the distraction, happy that today, out of all the days, he decided to make the situation about himself. "I am the resident hot mess and nothing you do will change that. Or get out of my tower," He made a dramatic gesture, waving along everybody to the table.

At the dinner table, with Peter on one side of me and Bruce on the other, Wanda's speech was clear. "I think you two are about on the same level, Tony," Her tone was dry. The looks she cast me were cheeky at best and downright gleeful at worst. Not only was she the resident telepath but also, apparently, a huge drama fan.

I, on the other hand, felt like a fish thrown out of water. My mind was still jumping between astounded and horrified like a rabid rabbit and Bruce's excited remark about seeing a former schoolmate only worsened the anxiety. My brain was telling me EVERYBODY knew EVERYTHING whereas in reality, it was only Wanda and it didn't seem like she was upset enough to give up my dirty little secret. If anything, the witch seemed almost impressed. And that dry, mildly interested facial expression only solidified when she put two and two together: my teacher, whom I fucked, also known as Bruce's former study buddy.

"I have some spare sweatpants that might fit you," Wanda directly addressed me as we were finishing up the wonderful chicken roast courtesy of Clint and Bucky. Nobody batted an eye at the sudden exclamation, evidently used to being around someone who could hear their thoughts. 

I nodded, mentally waving a big, red thank you note. With sparkles. And hearts. Wanda chuckled.

"Hey, did you change your perfume?" Peter's innocent remark made me nearly freeze in my spot. 

Kill Bill sirens started playing in my head on repeat as I heard Wanda choke on her asparagus, inadvertently drawing attention to the three of us. Peter looked at us in confusion: Wanda kept on gasping, but it seemed like the dam had finally burst and she was laughing in earnest, snorting, loudly, as I engaged my willpower to stop myself from doing the same. Needless to say, it was a spectacular failure and now both of us were bent over our dinner plates, absolutely losing it - much to the concern of the adults present at the table. The rest of the team was growing concerned.

"Oh my god, your FACE!" Wanda's incoherent mumbling and the accusing finger pointed in my direction did it.

"A lady doesn't... kiss... and tell...." I fervently gulped the oxygen as I tried to articulate my thoughts into something comprehendible. The hysterical laughter won by a wide margin.

"Who's the lucky guy?" Natasha seemed to get the gist, relaxing immediately and picking up her fork to continue her meal. 

I shook my head, unable to form a coherent thought, much less a sentence. Bruce chuckled from somewhere beside me and just like that, the tension broke. The adults in the room traded knowing looks, chuckling and snorting amongst themselves. 

The moments I needed to calm down went to waste really quick: my first laughing fit over, I took one look at Wanda and yet again, both of us were puffing out our cheeks to try and prevent another hysterical fit. 

"Whew," I exaggerated, eyes wide and looking ANYWHERE but at Wanda.

"What a wild ride," She snorted and I put a palm over my face, shaking my head in... 

Disappointment at myself? I wasn't disappointed. Now that I got over the WTF factor, I found the situation to be pretty damn hot. Will was hot. Eh, whatever. 

My casual mood of zero-fucks-given began returning. After few of the last bites of potatoes, I was prepared to face  Natasha. I looked the Black Widow dead in the eye as I firmly stated: "And for the record? We are NOT having this conversation."

She elegantly arched her eyebrow whilst everybody else held their breath. "That bad, huh?" The retort was immediate.

I allowed myself to radiate a bit of that newly acquired smugness I had begun to feel: "You have no idea," I hoped my smirk was as devious as I wished it to be.

"Alright, heartbreaker, colour me impressed," Natasha nodded in affirmation. We shared another meaningful look and reverted back to our plates with the menfolk observing us akin animals at a zoo. 

Somewhat amazed, slightly afraid. Bruce's stare was somewhat concerned, too: he contemplatively eyed me from the corner of his eye, the same way I eyed him, checking out the fact that he appeared somewhat annoyed. Like a proper father would, I suppose. 

Luckily for me, I finished off the remaining food and drink quickly, with Wanda being my saviour once again as she all but bodily dragged me into the elevator, promising to return me to the science den in no more than an hour. Tony went to complain but was promptly stopped by Natasha inconspicuously reaching for the butter knife: the engineer knew how to pick his battles. I didn't doubt that Romanoff was going to hear "all about it" second-hand from Wanda and I was fully prepared to face the redhead spy's judgement. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, escaped that clever woman.

A quick shower and a change of clothes later, I sat on Wanda's couch, nervously fiddling with the two sizes too big sweatpants, occasionally stopping to straighten the plain white tank top that just barely fit me. I washed my hair but didn't  dry it before Wanda was impatiently telling me to hurry up: the mess sat atop my head held up by a single scrunchie.

"Okay... Where do I start?" She asked me, looking like the cat that ate the canary. 

"Don't start," I stopped her with a raised palm. "It was a casual, one-time thing and I've no interest in pursuing that shit on the reg," I answered honestly. The fact that he was my teacher simultaneously worsened the situation and made me elated. But ultimately, I didn't want to risk the trouble that would come along with this mess. Besides, I had no feelings for the guy whatsoever. As I've said previously, it was just bad impulse control on some teenage hormone steroids.

"You're a strange one," Wanda's penetrating gaze made me shiver. "You live without a care in the world but at the same time, your mind is always all over the place. It is interesting."

"Uh, thanks? I guess?"

"I think we should try being friends," The witch remarked after a brief moment of awkward silence. I stared at her, dumbfounded. "Because of my powers, I can literally see through people and predict what they will do before they even think about doing it. With you, it's not like that," She explained, her Slavic accent making a full guest appearance.

"So...you want to be friends because I'm a fucking mess?" I couldn't help but feel a little offended. The occasional shitty decision aside, I didn't think of myself as that bad.

"I want to be friends because I like you," Wanda fondly rolled her eyes, standing up from the couch and motioning for me to follow. "Now let's get you to Tony or he'll blow a gasket. He's already insufferable as he is."

@another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem