#i wish i had some sort of skill i could use to do commissions or something

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

i am so stressed out. my bank account is in the negative and rent was due the 1st. and idk what to do, i have nothing i can pawn off for quick cash

[brabblesblog]

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

Ch 10: Yes.

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

Once in a while, right in the middle of a (not so) ordinary (un)life, love gives us a fairy tale.

Professionally edited and collaborated on by my dearest friend <3 @editing-by-night

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Commissioned from my dear friend Leira Art <3

Astarion’s thigh was starting to get numb. Ban was on her stomach, stretched out beside him, her hands cradling her face. The unfortunate fact that her elbows were digging into his thigh was something she missed entirely.

He’d arranged for a small moonlit dinner in the gardens, just bedding laid over the grass and nothing but the moon and the stars to keep them company. It had seemed like the perfect idea after a long day of trying to broker some sort of arrangement between Shadowheart and the city about the now-abandoned Sharran cloister. Ban had gone to see Shadowheart for this purpose when she’d first come back to Baldur’s Gate; that had been the day the mirror had been delivered. The two had been coordinating in anticipation of today’s meeting ever since.

He sighed and flexed his leg in an attempt to get Ban to notice his discomfort. She shifted along with the muscle, but merely looked at him, smiling.

“You’ll have to move soon, else your poor husband loses his leg,” he remarked.

She lifted from his leg, smirking. “Nonsense. You’re undead. Regardless, bodies don’t work that way; all you’d get is a… spasm, of sorts, which I’m sure you can handle.” She gave him a soft pat on his beleaguered limb, playfully dismissive.

“As enlightening as you think that is, I actually do know what cramps are. Being undead doesn’t save you from that particular torture, as I’m sure you know.”

“Just teasing you,” she said amiably, lying down to rest her head on his thigh instead.

He looked down at her, admiring the way her hair fanned out in a halo around her head.

“Cramps, spasms… you’re all too familiar with such things, aren’t you?” He wrapped his fingers around her bicep, squeezing. “You’ve probably had more than your fair share, flailing about with that frankly ridiculous weapon of yours.”

“Says you.” Ban huffed, glaring good-naturedly at him. “You couldn’t even swing it, Astarion. You and your little crossbows and daggers…”

He laughed, sliding his hand over her shoulder. “You’ll have to tell me how you became so… forgive me, brawny.” Astarion watched her consider the question, eyes glazing over as she brought forth memories.

“After I ran away from my family, I found my way into the employ of an innkeeper, as a barmaid. Not a horrible place to earn your keep; they were kind enough to allow me to live in one of the rooms of the inn. But as in all such establishments, you occasionally get… unpleasant clientele.”

He rolled his eyes. Of course. “And so this was a way to protect yourself.”

“It was,” she agreed, “One day, a customer managed to get their hands on me; before anyone could intervene, I broke his nose. It was mostly a lucky shot, but the innkeeper saw potential in it. They had been a skilled fighter, and decided to pass their skills along to me. Over time, I built a small reputation keeping the peace in the tavern, took a shine to… all that, and eventually received offers from merchants and the like, to help out or provide protection.”

“With a greatsword?” he said, a little incredulous.

“No, although I wish I had. Merely a longsword; easier to handle, but a lot less impressive.” Her hands mimed swinging one, the movement quick and efficient, if inelegant.

His hands covered hers. “You’ll have to teach me how to wield a greatsword one day.”

Her answer was quick. “Not a chance you’ll have the patience for such a slow weapon, Astarion.”

He chuckled. “Truer words have never been spoken. Besides, finesse and dexterity are all you ever need, really.” He twirled their entwined hands, flipping an invisible dagger in the air. She giggled, and he watched their hands against the night sky, dancing amongst the stars.

“This was a brilliant idea. I’m impressed you came up with it.” He peered down at her as she spoke; he’d thought she’d passed into sleep - her eyes had been closed for some time.

“I’m far more capable than you give me credit for,” he scoffed. Since she was not asleep after all, he gave in to his lingering urge and wrapped his hands around her wrists, tugging her off his much-abused leg and up. Spreading his legs, he guided her to sit between them. She leaned against his chest, closing her eyes as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Far more romantic is what I would have said,” she corrected, “not that I’m complaining. But this is something that… I don’t know, Gale would have done.”

“Gale?” Astarion scoffed in mock offense, “I can do better than anything he could conjure up. Had you said Wyll, I’d have to admit I’d have a slight challenge on my hands.”

“A slight challenge?” Ban laughed, “It would be quite a bit more than a slight challenge for you to outdo Wyll in romantic gestures, Astarion.”

“Tell me, then. What would you consider the most romantic,” he rolled his eyes, “thing he’s done?”

Ban was silent for a moment, then raised a finger in an aha! gesture. “He gave up his life in Faerûn and followed Karlach to the hells.”

His stomach turned, the comment stinging as it hit sensitive spots. She said it in jest, but there was an underlying truth behind her playful words.

“You truly think I wouldn’t do the same for you?” He was a little piqued, the offense not entirely feigned anymore.

Ban shrugged, failing to sense the change in his mood. “And give up everything you have? Every bit of luxury? Your palace, your art, your suits… the sun? Why would you?” she quipped airily.

A soft hiss escaped him. “I would do anything for you; have already done so, to be frank. I’ve fought everything we’ve had to overcome, have I not? Everything we’ve ever faced. I fought for you, for us - fought our enemies, our companions, the Absolute, my master, myself…” he took a sharp, pained breath, “I have clawed my way through everything for the privilege of being the one by your side. Nothing would part me from you.” He clenched his jaw, his scowl deepening. “If anything, I should ask the same of you. Would you go to the hells for me?”

He watched her face. She barely considered the question and answered quickly - too quickly for his liking.

“I would, of course,” she replied, her tone still light and conversational, as if she didn’t take his statement or his question seriously. She smiled at him, but it did nothing but agitate him further.

Why would she take him seriously? It was hypothetical, nothing serious, even though his words had been from the heart. They’d even been to the hells before, however brief, although that was for thievery and to save the godsdamned world. For a moment his mind flashed to Haarlep, his daggers sinking into that cursed incubus’ flesh, for her, always for her-

“Forgive me for asking such an inane question, then,” he snipped, all mirth gone, “For the longest time I’ve felt… unsure. Of how much you love me.”

He’d always felt it, he realized. From their days on the road - wondering when she’d come to her senses and he’d be left to rot, to the early days of his ascension - wondering where she had gone though her body had still been there, to their eventual reconciliation - wondering if he’d ever be enough for her to love him as he did her. Always doubting, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was exhausted.

She blinked, surprised. “Don’t I tell you enough? I love you so, so much. Endlessly so.” He felt her body stiffen in his arms; it merely served to irritate him even more.

“You do say it more as of late, which I find gratifying. Thank you.” The bitterness bled into his voice; not that he’d tried very hard to mask it. “Whether you truly mean it or not remains in question, especially with how you’ve…” he tilted his head in that cold, arrogant way of his, a defense mechanism she hadn’t seen in awhile, “treated me, since we reconciled.”

She finally realized the extent of his pique, that it ran deep, and that her flippancy had reopened the wound. She lifted herself up to meet his gaze.

“Astarion, I… I am sorry. I-”

“Do not apologize, at least not yet.” He took a moment to clear his head; the Ascendant could never be allowed free rein in conversations like this. Never again. “I refuse to hear mere platitudes in an attempt to placate me. I wish for you to hear what I have to say, and should you feel it appropriate, you may do so then.” He was stern but holding the vitriol back. This needed to be said, but it need not be an argument.

“Alright.”

He watched as she pulled away from him. There was a sudden spike of fear there, one that dissipated when Ban stayed within the circle of his arms. She’d shifted just far enough so that she could meet his gaze.

“I’m listening. Say everything you need to say,” she said gently, offering him a nervous smile. She rested a hand on his thigh, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

I’m here. Her mind touched his, something she’d been doing more and more often these days. He let her in, lowered the walls he’d been hiding behind for so long.

“I am aware you love me. How can I not be, when you have shown me so time and again?” A small, rather sad smile graced his face as he spoke. “What concerns me is the intensity of it - rather, the strength and longevity of it, compared to mine.”

“Strength?” Her lips tugged downwards as she considered his words.

“But I… I did tell you. You’re enough. You’re all I want,” she sighed, “But I also know it’s probably not enough - they’re merely words.”

“I am enough, for now,” he corrected.

A small series of thoughts were passed to her: a memory of their argument after her discovery of the contract, moments when he’d expected her to commune with him but instead she retreated, times he’d hoped she’d feed from him and nourish herself with his blood in moments of intimacy, only for her to turn to their stores instead.

“Would I still be enough, were I to displease you again? We’ve discussed this, but I must confess that I haven’t been completely forthright with my feelings on the matter.”

He wanted to tell her how painful it had been; how reminiscent of being punished by his master it was - to a lesser degree, of course, but it opened the same wounds in him nonetheless. He found his heart failing him, unwilling to inflict pain. He wished he could say it but he couldn’t allow it, wouldn’t willingly hurt her, wouldn’t let her even see-

And what of it, if she treats me that way? I can handle it, have handled it for centuries. I’m not worth better; they’ve all drilled it into me - Cazador and his patrons, our companions, even her. She turned away from me when I was lost, shut me out when I tried to understand her, withheld her heart from me until I begged, wielded silence like a weapon when I didn’t behave. Yes, most of that was my own fault, but that merely serves to prove I’m unworthy of it all. Of her.

Just shut up, Astarion. Let whatever needs to happen happen. You don’t-

He felt the air in his lungs escape him as her arms crashed around him and held him tightly, so tightly it felt like it could bruise. He found himself pressed against her chest, realizing she was murmuring into his hair.

“No, no, don’t hide, please,” she whimpered, barely coherent, “You- I didn’t know, I didn’t see, and I know you’ve tried to tell me before but it felt like barbs you were throwing mid-argument. I didn’t want to see there was truth behind them. I’m them, aren’t I? I’m so sorry, Astarion, please.”

He let her hold him, allowed her to cry into his hair, fingers digging into his back with a desperation he hadn't seen in her before. His hands rubbed her back, but he didn’t speak. His thoughts had slipped into her mind as they’d flitted through his, he realized, but he didn’t regret it.

“I love you. I love you so godsdamned much and I realize I’ve been doing it wrong, not loving you the way you deserve. I’ve been neglecting your needs in favor of my own. I’ve been… all of them. Cazador, everyone who ever used you, even my wretched parents. I’m like them - I’ve been being everything I hated in them all and I’m just like them and I should just-”

Her frantic words cut off in a sharp intake of breath and she tried to pull away, her face stricken with horror. Astarion held on, refusing to let her go.

“Don’t go,” he crooned softly, as if calming a skittish animal, “because that would only serve to hurt me more. If you do love me so much then tell me. Show me. I need both in equal measure, my love.”

“I thought I was,” she choked out, “I thought I had been trying. And I’m not sure I’ve succeeded at all-”

She bit back a sob, refusing to allow her words to dissolve into tears. Not right now, when he deserved to hear more than sad blathering, knowing that his first instinct would be to backtrack. The tears came anyway, pooling in her eyes. She took several deep breaths to collect herself before continuing.

“There’s trying, and there’s not trying hard enough. I’ve been the latter; I see your pain and I make attempts in the moment, but then you seem better and I let myself carry on. I slip into old habits and behind walls that are all too easy to hide behind - and I let myself ignore what’s outside those walls.” She laughed, the bitterness evident. “Ironic, I think, that I’ve been doing what you did after the rite. I’ve been hiding myself from you, the way you hid yourself from me. You’ve tried so hard to heal my pain, attended to my needs, at the expense of your own… worked tirelessly at undoing the damage of those early months, and you’ve succeeded… but it was so easy for me to keep letting you do that, to be neglectful attending to you and your needs. To your heart. I will try to be better - No. I will be better. I swear it.”

And there were truths, painful ones, that needed to be said. She steeled herself; there wouldn’t be a better time.

“It has been better,” he assured, “These past weeks have been wonderful; they’ve soothed a lot of the ache. I suppose I merely wanted you to know, and even then I wasn’t sure if it was worth the risk of dredging up.”

“Oh, but it is. There’s something I should have told you, something I should have talked to you about the moment we reconciled, or any one of a hundred times since. I should have told you that although I never stopped loving you, and wanted to be with you again, I didn’t forgive you. That I resented what you’d done to me, resented it enough to keep holding it against you, to measure every good thing you did against the past - and I found it lacking.”

“Ban-” he tried to interrupt, his face a mask of worry, but she shook her head; her eyes begged him to allow her to do what he’d done for her barely more than a month ago. He quietened once more, tightening his grip on her, grounding them both.

“I withdrew at every sign of discomfort; I didn't even really try to trust you more, not outside of our bedroom, anyway… Even as I promised to work on us... I used affection as currency - I saw it as… justified retribution, at times. Not consciously, not deliberately, I don’t think, but neither did I deliberately try to move past those feelings. Even as I speak now I’m only now finding the words for it. All I know is I should have told you this, should have realized earlier what it was I was doing to you. I should’ve been fighting to improve myself, and our relationship, like you were, instead of putting all the burden and responsibility for my feelings and our happiness onto you alone.” She finally let him go enough to cup his cheek.

“We desperately need to learn how to talk, Astarion, as laughably simple as that sounds. Let’s both do what you promised to do for me - if we find ourselves unable to talk it out, we’ll use the connection to think it out, together.” He nodded in agreement and she sighed, calmer now, but no less agonized over these personal revelations.

“I wish I… hadn’t done any of that, or that we had found our way to talking about it earlier, but I also know how… recalcitrant I can be. And of course you feared yet another retreat, or worse, had you tried and it escalated. I didn’t make any attempt to talk about it, and you didn’t feel safe enough to try. We've both spent too long afraid to talk, me fearing compulsion and now you fearing abandonment.”

He chuckled. “On that I cannot refute you, and thus can provide no comfort. On the other hand, not all of my concerns are because of your transgressions, or mine. Some of it is concern about your… former mortality.”

Ban froze for a moment, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“It isn’t a fundamental issue, but if we are to talk about love, and its relative… longevity, even though such a concept is nebulous at best,” Astarion’s eyes flicked away, gathering the strands of the thought he was trying to piece together. “I suppose this is worth bringing into the discussion.”

She saw the way his eyes darted away, locking onto some distant spot; the way his shoulders squared, the bated breath. Even now he tries to diminish his own feelings to avoid upsetting me further. Now that she was watching for it, she couldn't believe she hadn’t seen it all this time - rather, that she had seen, but had refused to acknowledge it, so much so that it had stopped registering in her conscious mind. Never again, she vowed silently.

“What ‘this’?” She was confused, but allowed him the space to think.

He stayed unmoving for a few moments, then finally reached for her mind.

What flowed into her was immense - seemingly boundless stretches of time, of days flowing into months flowing into years, decades, centuries. The moon rising and setting, interminable nights of untold suffering and the rare, quiet moments in between, stretching seemingly endlessly. To her, it felt an eternity - although she knew this was a mere grain of sand in the infinity of time.

Fragments of memories, the earliest of which were mere wisps, lost to the weight of the centuries; then his time with Cazador, bathed in cruelty, a parade of bodies and the scents of rot and sex and filth, blood-red and tinged with pain and fear and anger and self-loathing, all blending together in one massive wave of anguish - then silence.

His year alone, she realized, a small gasp escaping her as he allowed her to see a fraction of how it had felt. The maddening isolation, the despairing, desperate prayers to every god ever named, his fingers bleeding throat raw stomach hollow every muscle aching mind racing and this is it forevermore the four corners of this cold tomb please let me die please-

“Astarion,” she cried out, gripping his shoulder, trying to stop him from spiraling. Those beautiful eyes locked onto hers and to her surprise he was calm. He took her hand, squeezing it.

The memories shifted. The colors became more vivid, the smells became warm and heavenly in comparison to everything else before. The chirping of birds. The smell of grass and earth. Sunlight. Blood from a boar, warm and so, so much of it, and his stomach had never felt so full…

Footsteps, a blade held to someone’s throat. Cautious, hesitant trust. The smell of thinking blood, so close he could lean in and taste it. Laughter. Voices. Her voice. His teeth, sinking in, that first taste forever dooming him to crave it, crave her. Their first nights together, the push-pull of his heart and mind, warring between thinking her a gullible fool and the flickering ember of warmth and affection in his chest.

I want us to be something real.

But not merely real; thiramin - passionate, true, eternal. Nights under the stars. Fighting back to back, daggers and sword flowing seamlessly. Banter by the campfire. Frustration as he regarded her hands, trying to teach her how to pick locks, only for her to give up and smash the chest with one swing of her sword. Those same hands, touching him with an aching tenderness. Uneasiness slowly morphing into trust and then into comfort and then longing, into home. Touch me love me see me be with me, forever and longer than that. I love you, I love you and I will say it, soon, every single day, when I am free.

His eyes left hers, downcast as the memories continued to flow.

Power, as it flowed into him, exhilaration drowned by the look on her face and the disgust in her heart until all he felt was loss and anger, that the thing he loved most would slip through his fingers when freedom was finally his. Regret, still stabbing even to this day. Visions of her face, cold and angry and at times frightened. His voice, commanding, demanding her subservience - on your knees, a finger pointing downwards. The denial of any vulnerability - rebuffing her when she reached for him, admonishment for the attempt. The slow corruption of what was between them.

Astarion didn’t shy from it, his hand merely tightened on hers. The stream of recollections didn’t stop, but his eyes flicked back to hers.

The agony of losing her, the hopelessness, the emptiness. The slow process of prying open his heart once more, at first nearly impossible and then increasingly easy. The sheer joy of seeing her smile at him again, her face emblazoned into his mind. Memories of more recent, happier times. Elation mixed with spikes of anxiety whenever she retreated from him - confusion, worry, fear. And finally, the slow ebbing of those feelings, contentment suffusing more and more of the final visions, the doubt ever-smaller, more easily brushed away.

And then she was seeing through his eyes, he through hers, here in the garden with no other soul, only the stars in the sky. One last feeling - love - and he retracted from her mind, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Ban snapped back to reality, to her own mind, reeling. In front of her Astarion looked fond, his hand still cradling hers, waiting for her to settle before he continued.

“A long time to live, and I am still young for an elf,” he began, “I would assume the weight of it infinitely more burdensome for someone as young as you, from a short-lived race.”

She nodded. “I wouldn’t contest that. Were I not turned, I would have died within the century.”

“But you will not,” Astarion reminded, “I am merely concerned about your capability of loving steadfastly, long past the normal span of your lifetime. The constancy required for a love that spans millennia, that follows us through reincarnations… It is something elves are born with. It is not so for humans. I simply… wanted to bring it to light.”

“Astarion,” she said, voice tinged with hurt, “Just because I’m human doesn’t mean I will fall out of love with you in a century or two. No one can know the future, but I swear to you - I will love you for however long this-” she gestured between them, “-undeath lasts, love you the best that I am able. Eternity, if it comes to that.”

Ban weighed her words, weighed the visions he’d allowed her to see. “I know I can’t prove anything today. The future is never set, and I’ve hurt you. I have no idea how to measure our love, to even consider if they are things to be compared against each other-”

“They are not,” he assured her, “But I appreciate that they have now been spoken out loud. That I am understood, seen, and that you do not disagree.”

“If that’s the case, I can promise to continue comprehending. To… see you, fully, even when it’s uncomfortable for me. To understand, to do better. To listen and care, and love. To work toward your happiness as much as my own. To fight for us, always. I can’t prove it today, but I will prove it. From today, until forever.” She made this vow without hesitation or reservation, and with utter sincerity.

Astarion smiled at her, a soft, almost hesitant smile, one that told her she’d soothed a lot of his heartache, before leaning his forehead to touch hers. They sat, quietly, absorbing one another’s feelings through their bond.

“Astarion…” She lifted his hand and placed it over her heart as she spoke; his brows raised in surprise. They had spent a long time in heavy but comfortable silence, basking in the closeness of their shared emotions. Hearing her speak aloud nearly startled him, but he was eager to hear what she may have to say.

She waited until his eyes met hers, until that slight surprise passed into curiosity. He held her gaze, lips parted as if to speak.

“Let me get this out,” she interjected before he could respond. His lip quirked, eyes narrowing, his brows shifting into an expression of wry, if fond, amusement.

Ban locked her gaze onto those beloved crimson irises, ignoring everything else. If she considered any more of his beautiful face, she was sure her courage would fail her. She’d been thinking about this, had been considering it for a long while before the mirror, before her family came back into their lives. She had lain awake thinking of it as she was cradled in his arms, had almost spoken it into being numerous times in post-coital bliss or in quiet, happy moments. It had never been quite the right time - something had always come up - whether it be some small quarrel they had, some playful remark that derailed her line of thought, or simple cowardice. She’d let her lingering doubts serve as excuses, but the idea never went away for long. This finally felt like the right time, to finally fully open herself to him, to let her faith and love and trust shine through in actions, as well as words.

She felt her hand shake, tears threatening to blur her vision, and swallowed hard.

“I figured I would say this sooner or later, or if I’d kept letting my cowardice win then later than sooner, to be frank. It’s been on my mind for…. Well, I’m not even sure how long, but it’s been a long time. It first crossed my mind that it would make sense, politically - legally it would make sense as well: properties, assets, all that - and no one would question the legitimacy of our union, would solidify alliances and our good standing, and-”

Her words were cut off by a soft laugh. He leaned in, keeping his hand over her unusually fast heart, and pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Keep going,” he urged, his tremulous voice filled with a hunger she barely recognized, and although he was smiling, his eyes were misty and intensely focused, as if not a single other thing existed in the world besides her, and him, and this moment. “I think I’d rather like to hear what else you have to say.”

She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, so she gave up trying. Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “I love you.”

“I’m aware,” Astarion responded, the picture of patience. “And you’re well aware of how much I adore you in turn.”

“This isn’t… politically it does make sense,” she said again, knowing full well she was repeating herself. “But I don’t want you to think that, I- I’m not doing this because it makes sense. It- that’s not it, and I’ve just been thinking it and it’s not that, do you un-”

This time it was his lips on hers that interrupted her, a soft caress that was unhurried and filled with nothing but reassurance. He held the back of her head, keeping her close. She allowed herself to melt against his parted lips, allowed his tongue to slip in and explore her, but he barely dipped in before retreating. He didn’t speak, merely gave her a small nod, thumb wiping away a falling tear.

She took several deep breaths, collecting her thoughts as best she could; she was appalled how much she had fumbled it thus far. “I’ve thought about saying it so many times, and in just as many ways. When I was lying in your arms, when I’d made you laugh, over meals, when we talked about our plans, even when we argued…” She shook her head. “Gods, even before that. I fantasized about it that first night in the clearing - stupid and naive, I know, but there it is. It just kept popping into my head, ever-present, always a wonderful daydream that I daren’t speak into existence. I was afraid I’d ruin it.. I knew… I knew it would seem cold, calculated, because there is so much benefit to our goals in it, and I didn’t want it to be for that. I didn’t want to say it when you might think it was only about that, because it isn’t, not at all. And then the time never felt quite right, and I was so scared of making you feel it was cheapened by politics…” She sighed, pausing again to gather her courage.

The words finally managed to leave her mouth. “I want… forever. I want what you wanted, all this time. To be real.” Another shaky breath, and she saw the smile on his face fade, replaced by an eagerness framed with such tenderness it almost broke her. “I was your first. I want to be your last. I want you to marry me. Say yes, please.”

“Ban,” Astarion chuckled. It was a soft, wet sound, his sniffling ruining the intended effect. “You merely had to say ‘will you marry me’ and it would have sufficed.” He flapped a hand dramatically. “You could have gone with some quip, like ‘if you turned me into your bride, why don’t we make it real’ or some comment about how I already call you my wife…” He trailed off as he realized she’d begun to sob, shoulders shaking.

“Love… yes. Of course yes!” He shook his head at the utter idiocy of this moment, of how she’d assumed, even for a moment, that he’d refuse, as if all that babble wasn’t just his own nervousness coming to the fore, the old theatrics a way to defuse strong emotions. He pulled her to him tightly, pressing her to him, his joy overwhelming him as he felt her return the hug with just as much strength.

Yes. Of course, yes. Astarion recognized it for what it was - a large step - and felt joy suffuse him. I am seen, chosen, cherished, loved… I am enough! Everything he’d wanted and had ever needed, condensed into the being of this magnificent person he held in his arms. He pulled away to peer at her face and she shied away, cuddling deeper against him, as if she could stay there forever to avoid his prying eyes.

“Darling, your tears will stain my shirt,” he chided, as if he wasn't crying himself, tears streaking all over his own face. There was a muffled sorry and she let him go, her hands moving to cover her face; he was quick enough, however, and caught her wrists.

“There’s no need to hide, nor cry for that matter,” he murmured, blinking his own tears away. “This is a happy moment. We’re to be wedded, for real this time - not that it matters, really,” he scoffed. “I’ve considered us husband and wife for, gods, I don’t even know how long.” That made her smile, at least, and she finally opened her eyes, although she hadn’t looked him in the face yet.

“Do indulge your to-be-husband, Ban. First, don’t enlist a cleric to officiate the ceremony. I won’t stand for religious prattle. And second, I want to be wed quickly. No more than a month.”

“A month we can do. As for the other, I was thinking Ulder might help us,” she finally said. He blinked in surprise, impressed.

“So you have planned this,” he mused. “You figured you could pull favors from dear Wyll’s old man, get a wonderful ceremony, and consolidate political influence, all in one fell swoop.” He clapped his hands in amusement. “I’m impressed.”

“Well there was also the fact that I get to marry you,” she quipped, eyes still pointedly staring at his chin instead of his face.

Astarion placed a hand under her chin, tilting her face up. “I know,” he murmured. “I know all too well.”

He leaned in close, slotting his lips against hers. This time he didn’t pull away, allowing the kiss to intensify. He waited for her to part her lips then pushed his tongue in, tasting and devouring. Finding a fang, he pressed his tongue against it, longing for her to taste him.

When they parted he was breathless, eyes locked onto her face. “How long have you been considering this?”

“A while,” came the answer, spoken hurriedly as he pulled her on top of him, lying back onto the dewy grass. “After the clearing, it was a daydream - a silly, romantic wish. I first thought of it as more than a fantasy, in terms of the political benefits, shortly after we reconciled, but of course didn’t really think seriously on it then. In terms of when it became something I definitely wanted, for myself - for us… When we had the ball to celebrate our first year. I could see us doing that, but instead of celebrating an anniversary, it would be our wedding.”

“Then why not ask me earlier? That was months ago.” He shivered at the feeling of her lips pressing against the base of his ear; Ban was obviously seeking to correct previous shortcomings. He felt her trail a small path of kisses across his jaw, and then the underside and down his throat. He sat up a bit, propping himself up on his elbows, baring his neck to her, a plea for her to continue. “Did you think I would be so foolish as to decline forever with you, when that’s all I’ve longed for?”

“I thought you would find the ceremony involved trite; like you said, you already obviously considered us wedded,” Ban said. “I also didn’t want you to think it was merely a political move. I didn’t know how to make it romantic and not… pragmatic.” There was a quick pause and then her lips were replaced by fangs, cautiously scraping against his skin, far more hesitant than he would have been. The sensation sent a wave of delight straight to his groin, regardless. “I apologize that I haven’t been feeding from you. It’s not you. I- it’s taken a long time to be comfortable with what I am now.”

“Forgiven.” Astarion purred as her hand wrapped around his nape, guiding his head to the angle she desired. Fingers caressed the curls at the base of his neck, sending more shivers racing along his body. He’d known of her issues coming to terms with her undeath - he’d been hoping learning how to use her powers would help finally ease her into it. That being why she rarely sank her fangs into him was a significant relief, chasing even more of his concerns away. “It is trite,” he admitted, a small sigh escaping his lips as he pressed his hips against hers. “As much as I do agree - doing so will solidify your legitimacy as my partner, afford you more respect, provide a wondrous opportunity to host a grand ball, provide ample chance for mingling, and bind us together in a new way, one that I want very much. I am no fool; I am not incapable of knowing both can be true at the same time.”

“I know you’re not. I just didn’t want you to-”

“To be hurt,” he agreed, placing a hand over his chest dramatically, the effect significantly lessened by the fact that he was painfully hard. The comfort at her openness, in the acknowledgment of his hurts, the balm of her promises, the all-encompassing joy of their engagement, the pleasant weight of her straddling him, grinding against him, the press of her fangs against his neck… It all blended, forming an irresistible cocktail of desire. “Darling. I’m touched. A little insulted you’d think me that incognizant,” he chuckled as she huffed at him, “but very, very glad you have thought of me - worried for me.”

“That being sa-'' he began to say, but the words were aborted in favor of a low, undignified whine as her fangs finally found their mark, sinking into his neck. Pain and icy coldness spread from the pinprick wounds as she drank - rather clumsily in his opinion - the pain quickly followed by pleasure. His hips bucked as her fingers gently traced the edge of his ear. “You- ah- might want to suck and then swallow, instead of… whatever it is you’re attempting to do.” He shifted to center his cock against her, allowing her to feel all of him with every grind of her hips.

Ban opened her mouth to snap out a retort, forgetting to lick the wounds to stem the flow beforehand. Blood gushed and she swore, tongue immediately latching onto his neck to seal them shut.

Astarion snorted. “Messy, Ban. Whatsoever would you do if you actually did have to drink someone dry? You’d have half of it spill.” He took a look at his shirt and sighed. “There’s also the fact that you ruined my sh…”

He cut off with a groan, her wicked tongue lapping harder at his neck, sliding down to his collarbone, licking the blood that had pooled there. A soft snap heralded his shirt being torn open, buttons flying off in every direction, baring his chest. There was another sharp flash of painful pleasure as she nipped at the hard planes of his chest, nicking him slightly above a nipple; he opened his eyes to see her licking at the small rivulets of blood.

“Fuck the shirt,” she said, eyes glinting mischievously. “I want you to forget everything but my name.”

He swallowed, his skin feeling a little too tight, and his cock gave a long throb at her words. He was rather taken aback, surprised by the uncommon forwardness; he delighted in it, in fact. “You’ll have to try harder than that.” Not that he thought she’d have a hard time of it - Ban knew him as well as he her, and all she had to do was place her finger-

But that wasn’t a finger, was it?

She’d slid up his body again, pressed a kiss against his lips - quick and hurried - and before he knew it she’d taken his ear into her mouth, sucking it once. Hard.

The sensation was gone as soon as it came - wet and hot and tingling all around his ear, almost overwhelmingly intense for that split second. He whined at its loss, hips violently jerking up against hers, cock straining against his trousers.

There was want, there was need, but there was also desperation.

“You utter…” He shook his head. “Where did you learn that from?” More, he thought, I need more.

Ban laughed, pulling away to shoot him a wry grin. “A couple of suggestions from friends, here and there…”

He groaned. “Shadowheart?”

“Perhaps.”

He felt her hand snake down, wrapping around his clothed length; his hips canted upwards of their own accord to meet her, seeking friction. The other hand traced an ear, tongue swirling around a nipple and gods he refused to come like this, at least not tonight…

“That’s quite enough.” There was no bite in his tone - he thought it impossible at the moment - but she paused long enough for him to lean her back until she was underneath him. One long, hard thrust - pressing his cock against her, fabric the only thing between them and oh gods he could feel how wet she was - and he pulled away enough to flip her over.

“Was it too much?” She propped herself up, looking at him over her shoulder with careful, slightly concerned eyes. Astarion shook his head.

“On the contrary; I want more of it, much more - but later, else this won’t be a long enough nor a worthy enough encounter for our engagement night.” He considered her, laid out in front of him, eyes and body beckoning to him. “On your stomach, darling,” he whispered, pleased at how quickly she obeyed, lying flat and resting her head on her hands, the muscled expanse of her back and ass presented to him. He ran his hands up the back of her legs, slipping under her dress, fingers digging into each ass cheek before rucking the garment up and off, tossing it to the side.

She turned to look at him, amused. This he matched with a wry grin of his own as he sat up and made a show of stripping off his trousers - slowly undoing the laces, hooking his fingers under the waistband and tugging them down inch by painstaking inch to reveal pale, perfect hipbones, running a hand over the tented outline of his cock, causing her to bite back a moan. She knew Astarion was fully aware of how he looked: bloody shirt torn open, wounds already closing, grass in his hair, cockhead finally slipping out of his trousers. He stroked himself again, eyes locked onto her.

“Hurry up, you tease,” she admonished, rolling her hips to briefly lift her ass up in the air.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Trousers and underwear were roughly tugged down and kicked off. He crawled towards her and she began to spread her legs in anticipation, but he stopped her with a gentle touch. Guiding her thighs back together, he slid his legs on either side of hers. He grasped himself as he shoved her underwear to the side, sliding across her folds, rubbing himself against her.

She watched him throughout all this, her look of amusement changing into one of lust. He gave her one last smug smirk, then slowly sank inside her; the position made the fit deliciously tight, but she was so wet he slipped in without difficulty, burying himself to the hilt. They both groaned when his balls pressed against her.

He leaned forwards, palms gripping the small of her back, thrusting into her. Utterly perfect, that tight, wet, heat that was taking him so well, the feeling of being home. His thrusts gradually lost their slow pace as his self control dissipated. With every stroke he could hear her moan, feel her clenching all around him in an exquisite rhythm that was only her, could only ever be her-

He wrapped his hands around her waist, urging her to sit up. He sent an image over their connection, showing her what he wanted, and she had to bite back a moan of anticipation. He knelt as her legs slipped out from under him, watched hungrily as she straddled him, her back arching against his chest as she slid down onto his length once more. Her ass was pressed wonderfully against him and she began to ride him slowly, gliding her hips languorously, keeping him deep inside her. He rolled his hips up into her, working with the rhythm of her movements, slipping a hand lower to part her folds and find her clit, tracing circles in a slow but insistent pattern.

“Astarion, I love you,” she groaned out. “I’ve always loved you. Have always wanted you, longed for you, needed you. You… you deserve everything - love, happiness, the world. I haven’t been the best at giving it to you, but I swear I will. I’ll love you and cherish you and choose you, over and over again, in every lifetime and beyond. My life didn’t really even start until you. You were my real beginning, my future… you’ll be with me at the end, and for every step in between. You’re the part I’ve always been missing, the half that makes me whole, the other half of my soul. There’s only ever been you, there will only ever be you.” She was babbling, words spilling freely, words she had kept behind walls for so long.

Words he had always needed to hear. Words that only fueled his desire and joy, that brought tears to his eyes and drew a whimper from his lips, hips thrusting faster in response. What he had hoped she’d be to him for so long, finally reciprocated. In her own words, yes, but very much the same. He breathed the words out into their bond, hoping she understood.

My thiramin. Finally. My very own. I’ve waited for you for so long.

They both sighed, both overwhelmed by the headiness of the moment, their bodies moving in unison. Their grinding gradually began losing rhythm as they both approached their peak, the quiet gasps and groans becoming more urgent. His hand snaked up her body to her neck, fingers wrapping below her chin to pull her head back; she felt him press his lips against her pulse, then replace them with fangs.

“I should show you how it’s done,” he purred. “How to bite perfectly, to suck, to swallow, to lick.” Each word was accompanied by the action itself. A small nip, enough to break skin and draw blood, then pleasant suction, and then loud, exaggerated swallows, accompanied by moans of satisfaction breathed right beside her ear. In conjunction with those talented fingers on her clit and the unhurried rhythm of their lovemaking, it was almost too much, but she never wanted to stop.

She leaned into his touch, arching her back and neck to give him even more access. Tangling her fingers in his curls, she tugged, urging his head forward. He followed her lead, eyes closed. She could tell he was close, possibly even closer than she was - his short, rapid panting, the now-frantic rolling of his hips, the fingers on her clit losing their tempo - she saw it all, saw her husband lost in her, lost in his pleasure and joy, and she intended to give him more.

He was pressed tightly against her, jaw digging into her shoulder as he drank from her neck, his eyes roved down her body, watching everything. He was so focused, so lost, he didn’t even register her movement as she shifted to wrap her lips around his ear again. She took it in and gave a long, firm lick and then a sudden suck, swallowing as she did.

She felt him come before she heard it - the sharp, hard jerk of his hips, the sudden, violent slam of his cock so deep inside her it bordered on pain, and the fingers on her neck tightened, overwhelming her with sensation. His loud, whimpered gasp followed a half a heartbeat later, quickly chased by his low, guttural moan as he spilled inside her. The feeling was so intimate, so delicious, so perfect and she came undone as well, clenching tightly around him over and over as their joint pleasure took them both.

Perfect, his cock buried in her, her spasming around every inch of him, his fingers working her through their orgasms. Suddenly, their minds linked, each reaching for the other at their peak, reveling in the joy and the love and the overwhelming pleasure the other felt. Her clit, his cock, his hand on her neck, her fingers in his curls, his ear between her lips, her nails digging into his thigh - every sensation mixed together in a golden spiral that was magnificent and wonderful and beautiful and euphoric and consuming and it was everything and then suddenly it became too much. They instinctively drew away from the contact, the edges of it having become too keen, leaving them both overstimulated, overwhelmed, and a bit delirious.

Their bodies slowed in unison and they collapsed into each other as the last waves washed over them. She leaned heavily against him; he released her neck and held her close.

“That,” Ban said, licking her lips shakily, “was new.”

“Far newer than even you intended,” he agreed. “I however found it glorious - both things, in case you were wondering.”

Ban nodded. “That last thing we’ll have to use sparingly, I think. I…” she sighed, feeling lightheaded. It was amazing, far more intense than the time they’d melded minds while touching themselves before their reconciliation. Remember, Ban, openness, she admonished herself. She found it easy to do, suddenly realizing the lack had been more a force of habit than any actual need to hide, for awhile now. “It was amazing, much more intense than when we shared our pleasure from afar.” Her voice was quiet, almost distant, her mind struggling to retain thoughts in the aftermath.

“Agreed.” Astarion’s voice cut through the haze in her head, and he slowly repositioned them, turning her in his arms to cradle her in his lap. She could see him peering at her, the concern in his gaze obvious. “Are you alright?”

“Oh yes, just a bit adrift, like my mind is more exhausted than my body. I do think I’ll need a break after this, though,” she admitted.

He hummed softly, thoughtful. “Perhaps it would be a good time to bring back that idea we had - that little game we wanted to play. We agreed on a tenday, yes?”

Ban chuckled, tickled even through her exhaustion. “I’ll do you one better. Not until our wedding.”

“Not until-” Astarion cursed. “Gods. You are evil, you know that? You give me the best meal of my life and then decide on a month-long fast - evil. Unmercifully, unrepentantly evil.”

“It’s a yes or a no, Astarion.”

He smiled, seemingly pleased at the prospect despite his complaints. “It is not unprecedented amongst elven mates, to fast in this way, for long periods, to heighten the pleasure…” he mused, a devilish smirk blooming at the thought. “I’d very much like to see how intense things can be after a month’s respite.”

“Yes, or no,” she pressed.

He laughed. “Yes, darling. Yes to everything.”

To every question she’d asked today, to every one she would ask from this little game to eternity - yes.

Bonus: Was listening to this song while writing this chapter!

Taglist: @tavamarie @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire @qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld @gracemisconduct @decedentcoffeewizard @rootin-tootin-n-kind @pursuitseternal @youngtacobanana @krispeenuggiez @girlygmer-blog @cheezits4lyfe @vinegarjello @the0ldmann @wisteriaofthegraves @midnight-musings-of-nyx @toni-winchester @icybluepenguin @beepersteeper @hereliesblackdragon @generalstephkenobi

[litfeathers]

Behind the scenes of Evelyn's Journal

Since this was a bigger project, I thought I'd make a behind the scenes post to talk about how it came together, and share some easter eggs!

———

Firstly, I want to impress how long it took to record and edit this thing. An almost 15 minute long runtime is a MARATHON! It was a lot of work, but also a lot of fun and definitely worth it!

———

The wanted poster and meetinghouse graffiti are direct references to my fic A Most Certain, Strange, and True Discovery of a Witch. This is the poster Evelyn grabbed on her little vandalism excursion:

———

The frustrated look that Evelyn described Caleb making was this absolute classic:

(the wet cat gene is strong)

———

Evelyn’s bird drawings are a reference to her book of bird sketches from my fic There Are Owls and Witches in These Woods. Her sketch book has been passed down the generations of the Clawthorne family, and is my explanation for why they all have human realm bird palismen! They use her book for ideas! :D

———

Did anyone notice something special or significant about the day Evelyn and Caleb had their picnic? 😏

———

There is an AU where I kept this in /j

———

This is a cut line. I am not sure if this is me talking at the end, or Evelyn lmao

———

...the reason I was watching Elsewhere and Elsewhen in my sound booth? I was listening to Philip’s accent to figure out how Evelyn would imitate Caleb ahahahha

———

If you…let’s say…recognize Evelyn’s cackle?

*Slowly puts her finger on her lips*

Shh. No. No, you don’t. /lh

———

The light spells poofing at the end? That is actually Eda de-transforming from harpy mode at the end of Reaching Out! It was such a nice, clean poof! No background music or dialogue to work around! *chef kiss*

———

If you've read my fics, you can consider this story an alternate ending for There are Owls and Witches in These Woods. Everything up to the week in which this journal was written remains the same. There is a divergence when Evelyn decides she needs to protect Caleb by breaking off their friendship. Let’s just say that evening played out very differently. I'll let you guess and imagine for yourself what happened when Evelyn tried to break things off with Caleb. But I will give you this hint: his wish was very important. 😉

———

This is the sketch I sent @bananadramaaa to show what I wanted for the cover art. Behold my artistic skills:

It was so cool to watch the cover art come to life! It was only the second time I’ve ever commissioned an artist (and first time commissioning something complicated), and it was such a positive experience! If you need art for something and their commissions are open, I HIGHLY recommend them!

(Also we snuck a few easter eggs into the art ehehehe)

———

And it's time for some final thoughts.

I wanted to do something REALLY cool to sort of…I guess serve as a love letter to The Owl House? This show has been an amazing ride, and I wanted to create something as cool as I could to show my appreciation!

I wanted to show my gratitude to this silly, funny, wonderful, heartwarming show for existing. And to thank it for getting me writing and voice acting again. I am so grateful I decided to sit down and watch it last summer. I was lured in with the promise of witches and magic and owls, and ended up with a story that spoke to me so deeply.

Thank you, Dana. Thank you, crew.

And for anyone who made it this far, thanks for checking out my silly recording, and for being interested in my rambling. I hope you had fun!

Seriously. Thank you. 🔥🪶

[samuraisharkie]

due to Life Shit I kind of stopped drawing much about a year or two after I graduated high school bc I just kind of didn’t have the time or mental/emotional/physical capacity to fit it in, despite art being something I really want to be a part of my career. It kind of makes me sick to realize how much muscle memory I lost just from that time (I had only about a year and a half total of absolutely no art but that was enough. doesn’t help that during that time I seriously injured my hands) considering I’ve been drawing my entire life. I really wish things had not gone that way and that I could have kept going, but expectations were on me to do something else and any time I sat down to draw was treated as wasting time. There’s also something weird about recovering from severe trauma that kind of adjusts how you engage with a hobby you used as a coping mechanism, which Art very much was. I almost never drew vent art, but I used it to focus on something and make myself happy and proud of work I actually could do, and once I was out of the environments that funneled me into drawing (being forced to go to church, school, anything involving sitting down for a long period of time) I found less time to actually have an excuse. Someone bought me a single college course of art classes right out of high school, and I think that was where I COULD have had the opportunity to really get started if I had actually had the money to continue and the college hadn’t been so far away. After that course ended I didn’t have that excuse anymore. I used to draw in DeviantArt and Discord art groups, but those began to fall apart and soon I didn’t have that option either. After that I doodled but didn’t really create Full Pieces unless some friend asked it of me, and it was never a commission bc I’d never trained myself to get that sort of shit done without taking too long, so I’d always do it for free. So even that wasn’t a big motivator eventually. Now that I’m struggling for work after becoming more physically disabled after COVID, all that time I could have spent honing my art skills so I could do SOMETHING with my art really is weighting down on me. I have the option to do freelance work, illustrations, pet commissions, even things like cards and cookies. I’ve seen these avenues open up for me gradually, but I’ve lost the skills I built up that I need to actually make something I’m proud of. I’ve taken to tracing old art to try and remember my thought process and my “style”… but my memory was bad BEFORE the covid, and it’s worse now, and my brain fog makes it hard to focus even if I could get back on the train of thought. I don’t remember the construction that would be in my mind’s eye. I barely can keep a clear vision in my mind’s eye anymore, worryingly. I never had a crystal clear imagination, it was always sort of abstract, but I could see the lines, I could construct a scene. Now I have to focus hard to get any sort of detail clear in my head. It’s like if you tried to look directly into someone’s face in a dream, or put in a prompt in neural blender. So I have to adjust to performing the entire thought process physically, slowly and tediously trying to figure out what I’m imagining before I can really get started. Those old art tutorials for constructing shapes and bodies and such just aren’t coming naturally anymore so I have to dredge deep into my mind to remember which advice helped “click” the best and knowing it might not do it this second time around. It’s like if you forgot how to ride a bike. It was something natural to you, you could even get started haphazardly and distracted and still be able to tell where you were going and not fall over or trip on yourself, but now it’s like you have to focus on each step and it constantly feels like it’s taking everything you have to not crash. I’m glad I can start drawing again, but it hurts that something so huge in my life has been turned into this. I’ve ranted about it before it’s just easier to notice when you’re not sketching out people’s pets or doing super stylized doodles.

[jasmariswonderland]

A few days late, but better late than never! Usually, Yuulan is the one to interview my ocs for their birthdays, but this time, Farron will be interviewing her! I hope you all enjoy getting to know my Yuusona better! 

~~~

Farron: Hello, Yuulan! Wishing you a very happy birthday! I hope you’re having fun!

Yuulan: Of course, you’re presence always manages to bring a smile to my face so I would be having fun regardless. Thank you for coming, Farron!

F: How does it feel to be celebrating your birthday here in Twisted Wonderland?

Y: It feels a little strange, especially since I’ve begun remembering more things from home. Initially, I didn’t really have anything planned and I doubted Crowley would go out of his way to give me a fancy school party like you and the others have had. Really, I planned to pass it quietly like any other day. But Ace, Deuce, Danica and Taima would have none of that and planned this party for me. 

F: Ah yes, I helped them a little. Our plan was originally to have this be a surprise party but I know Grim told you about it ahead of time. 

Y: Yeah he did, but you know I still tried to act surprised. And honestly, I was surprised seeing how much trouble you all went for me. Since I’m kind of a special-case student, and Crowley doesn’t seem to bother with me unless he needs something, it’s sometimes difficult for me to know where I stand with everyone. Even those who seem to like me. 

F: That is sad to hear, but I do hope you know how much I truly like you, Yuulan. And I know Danica likes you a lot as well! And I’m certain your classmates do too! Speaking of which, what do you think of our present for you?

Y: The bike? Ohhhhh, I love it! You even made sure that it had a cute little basket for me to carry around Grim!  I can’t wait to try it out, I’ve been wanting to explore more of the Isle of Sages and now I will have than chance! Yes, it’s a wonderful gift. 

~~~

F: Since you don’t have any magic skill, what would you say you are best at?

Y: Handcrafts for sure, kitting, crochet, embroidery, things like that. I tend to fidget a lot so keeping my hands busy with some kind of craft is good for that. 

F: I’ve seen some of your work and it’s very nice. I especially like how you’ve tailored your uniforms to your own personal style. Have you ever considered maybe selling some of your work? Considering your skills, you’d definitely have a lot of business!

Y: Haha, I’m way ahead of you on that! Soon after coming to NRC, I made Crisanta an embroidered patch to go on her bookbag. She really liked it and paid me fifty madol for it, even though I didn’t ask for any compensation at first. But after that, word got around and now I take different kinds of commissions for students. Crisanta has commissioned more embroidered patches for her bag and even Jack has expressed interest in me making a scarf for him in the future. It’s a great way for me to support myself and keep Ramshackle tidy and supported since Crowley can’t be bothered most of the time. 

F: I’ve noticed that as well, but considering how…modest things are at Ramshackle, have you ever considered going to another dorm. I know you have many friends in Heartslabyul who probably wouldn’t mind your presence and Danica and I definitely wouldn’t if you came to stay at Pomefiore. 

Y: That may be so, but between you and me, I don’t think I’d do well in Heartslabyul or Pomefiore even as a guest. Though Riddle has gotten better, I don’t think I could deal with his strictness on a regular basis. The same goes for Vil, no offence. 

F: None taken, I fully understand where you’re coming from. On that same note, if you could attend NRC as a magic-using student, in which dorm would you like the Dark Mirror to sort you?

Y: Ahhh, well, if I’m being honest, and again this is no offence towards you or my Heartslabyul friends, but I’d want to be sorted into Scarabia. I just resonate with their mission statement the most out of all seven dorms as I consider myself an intellectual at heart. And the stories I’ve heard about the Scorceror of Sands are fascinating. Also, of all the dorm leaders, I feel like I get along the best with Kalim. So yeah, I’d like to be a Scarabia student. 

F: Ohhhh, I’m certain Taima would be happy to hear that! 

Y: Haha, I once told her this while Ace was nearby and he went on a five minute rant about how Heartslabyul was the better dorm, causing an argument between them, I think he forgot about how he’s often in trouble with Riddle and only wanted to play devils advocate against Taima. But I digress. I still would prefer Scarabia to Heartslabyul. 

~~~

F: What are some things you’ve learned since coming to Twisted Wonderland?

Y: Well, since I’m not a magic-user, what I’ve learned in school has been somewhat limited. When in class, Grim usually handles the magic related stuff and the one class I can really be independent in is Professor Trein’s. But back on topic, I guess one thing I’ve learned is that things aren’t always what they seem and that strength comes in all shapes and sizes. 

F: Interesting, care to elaborate?

Y: Well, without giving too much away, I’ve had a lot of crazy experiences since coming here. Crazy but also very remarkable. And with each new thing, I learn a little more about myself and about people in general. Like how someone can seem very stern or frightening, but can truthfully be very loving and kind. Or how even the strongest people have their own weaknesses and sometimes, there are weaknesses we can’t always overcome. But still, simply trying is enough and that can be considered strength too. 

F: You’ve had a lot of time to think about these things, hmm?

Y: You could say that, I often have a lot of time to think when I’m alone here. And even if I can’t use magic, I still observe a lot of things around me, even if I don’t say much about what I see. 

F: Being observant is a good skill to have, magic or not. And I must say, Yuulan, I admire how you have been able to make the most of the incredible situation you find yourself in. Between you and I, I’m not sure I’d be able to have even half of your courage if I found myself alone in a strange new world where I don’t know anyone or understand how things work.

Y: *laughs a little* I’m not sure how courageous I am, I guess you could say I’m just resilient more than anything. And I don’t think I can afford to be anything else. 

F: Still, I find it very admirable. And with that, our interview has come to an end. Thank you for sharing all of this with us. And I hope you continue to enjoy your birthday! 

~~~

[gadegaardpersson12]

Nocn Stage Three Certificate In Civil Celebrancy Within The Uk

It actually is all about empowering you to have the funeral that you actually want - we're all so unique and individual in life that is what we wish to replicate after dying, too. Being a celebrant is a unbelievable and rewarding occupation. Our senior tutor who delivers our courses has performed over 600 ceremonies throughout her career. All roads and life experiences have lead to this moment. I liked officiating and artistic writing and noticed no purpose why I couldn’t do that full time. funeral celebrant Both Jennifer’s help with planning, to the ceremony itself, was an exquisite and memorable expertise, and everyone had a completely pleasant time. “The training can bring up unresolved grief,” explains Isabel, who provides that not every trainee will complete the funeral celebrant course. Each newbie is mentored via their celebrant training, but some could discover highly emotional conditions troublesome to deal with. I did not know what to anticipate from an internet course but I was quickly put at ease by the course trainer Stuart Logan. Wherever you come from, you can be assured that your celebrant training with us shall be private, pleasant, encouraging, supportive and professional. We have intensive backgrounds and expertise, and it's a great joy for us to share this with our college students. We have a membership of over 800 and here you can see a community of dedicated professionally trained celebrants who're primarily based all through the U.K., Europe and past. All who care passionately about writing and delivering personalised ceremonies to commemorate and celebrate all of life’s milestones. The secular funeral celebrant has come to play an essential position in modern funeral providers. They don’t simply officiate on the day, but might help households to play their own half in the farewell, whether or not that’s reading a funeral poem or setting off memorial fireworks. Barbara has a double award-winning Masters in Design Innovation from Glasgow School of Art, focussing her outputs on remodeling twenty first Century Funerals. She innovated the UK’s first platform for end-of-life planning, Final Fling, introduced the primary dying cafes to Scotland and is a professional Funeral Director. She is a Director of Caledonian Funeral Aid, Scotland’s only not-for-profit Funeral Director. She is certified in Counselling Skills, Life Coaching and Executive Coaching. “Creating a ceremony that matches the individual to the ritual endows the entire event with an incredible sense of which means. In exceptional circumstances, we might have to vary the venue so as to ensure the quality of your experience is everything we hope it to be. Sometimes this may additionally influence on dates though we recognise the significance of with the ability to plan forward, so dates will solely be modified if there is not any various. In the occasion of this, we are going to make each effort to communicate these modifications with you on the earliest convenience. We additionally provide a dedicated messaging platform that enables students to speak with each other, as well as our tutors. This messaging platform can also be our major automobile for communicating with students, so it's essential you'll have the ability to access this from the beginning of the training. Civil Ceremonies is a member of the Wedding Celebrancy Commission.The commission is made up of professional organisations and training providers within the celebrancy sector. The organisation offers representation and help to wedding and family celebrants within the UK and data to couples, families and external organisations seeking a greater understanding of wedding celebrancy. It has introduced skilled requirements for wedding and household celebrants and facilitated essential independent analysis within the sector. As an experienced celebrant, you might want to train in conducting several sorts of ceremonies, or arrange your personal celebrant training business. We try to offer a training place to all profitable candidates as quickly as attainable. Please ensure that you are obtainable for all stages of the course you choose. Once a ceremonies training course has began a trainee may ask for a deferral to a later course only in unforeseeable and distinctive circumstances.

[archived-kin]

obey me cast + their genshin mains

i woke up at like three in the morning and scribbled this all down

not a formal writing piece so i haven’t formatted it like one, but i thought this was a fun idea!!

lucifer: diluc

they both have Fatherly Issues (in very different ways though)

probably inwardly makes fun of diluc for not liking wine

doesn’t really have any emotional attachment??? he just keeps diluc because he does a lot of damage and helps kill enemies quick

he actually has pretty good luck with getting 5 stars before he’s even hit pity, but he has awful luck on the event banners in terms of getting the featured 5 star - he’s never once won the 50/50 when he actually reaches it

gets really good artifact and weapon drops though so all of his levelled-up characters have super overpowered kits

he’s never actually looked up any recommended character builds, he’s just smart enough to figure out what all the stats mean and build his characters accordingly

has not touched his serenitea pot since he got it

not actually great with battle strategy and elemental reaction, he just tries to hit as hard as he can at all times

all of his characters are built dps because he doesn’t know how to build supports or healers

never teleports anywhere (he still hasn’t even unlocked half the waypoints)

didn’t realise the statues of seven healed until really late into the game

doesn’t bother with the reputation quests/bounties

all of his characters are still on that black glider that amber first gives you

it took him ages to finish the archon quest in mondstadt because he didn’t want to go into the cathedral

mammon: zhongli

accidentally got zhongli on like his very first event wish and has mained him ever since

he thinks it’s really funny that zhongli never has money (even though he also often has no money)

apart from that he likes the idea of playing the character that literally makes all the mora in teyvat

was actually considering switching after he finished the liyue archon quests because he absolutely hated how zhongli handled the whole thing but he didn’t want to give up that big pp damage

still doesn’t know that you can climb up onto dvalin in the stormterror battle

mixes and matches artifacts, but the ones he does use have really good stats and sub stats though so the lack of a set bonus doesn’t make much difference

didn’t realise you could increase talent levels until ar 50

loves doing the blossoms of wealth and hasn’t let his mora drop below 100k ever since he accidentally used it all up levelling his team to lv60

immediately does a wish as soon as he gets enough primos, unless it’s an event banner for a character he doesn’t like

he also ignores the story and hangout quests for the characters he doesn’t like

dabbles in the serenitea pot but doesn’t have the patience to really commit to it

forgets to do his commissions until the very last minute and lets his resin fill up to 160 before remembering that he’s not supposed to let it get full

is terrified of spiral abyss on a molecular level

levi: barbara

he loves idols so of course barbara is his favourite

has her built dps and does more vaporise damage with her charged attacks than some people’s 5 star bursts

ended up building lisa as a dps too because she makes fighting the oceanid for the cleansing hearts much easier

somehow still gets barbara to heal enormous chunks of hp as well??

has all three of her talents crowned, she’s lv90 and so is her 5 star weapon, plus all of her artifacts are +20

he likes getting the event 5 stars even if he’s never going to build them, they just make him feel superior in his luck

has really bad artifact drops which makes him really frustrated because he knows exactly how to build his characters with the perfect stats, he just can’t get the right artifacts!!!!!

keeps getting crit dmg, crit rate and atk% sub stats on defence circlets and it makes him die a little more on the inside each time

he despises jean because of how she makes barbara feel and desperately wants mihoyo to make a moment where jean tries to fight something but fails and barbara then steps in and takes it down immediately

never gets barbara’s constellations with makes him very upset because he wants c6 so BAD

nearly cried when he got barbara’s happy birthday voiceline

somehow got his serenitea pot to adeptal energy 20k within like two weeks but it doesn’t look good?? it’s just a whole bunch of 4 star furnishings shoved wherever there’s room

is pretty much always online at any given time

has nearly every single achievement in the game (goddammit just GIVE HIM THE RELIABLE HELPER COMMISSION)

satan: diona

this is not up for debate

he saw her in the character archive and immediately decided that if he didn’t get her he was quitting the game

luckily for him it was xiao’s banner around this time and he managed to get c3 diona from that alone

much like levi with barbara, he managed to build her so that she does enormous amounts of damage but still performs her shielding/healing really well

he prioritises her over everyone else but because of this diona is still his only fully-built character

all talents crowned, all artifacts +20, etc

hates draff with all his heart and refuses to buy anything from him

will murder you if you refer to diona as a loli in front of him

i’m aware keqing also sort of looks like she has cat ears but as far as i know that’s just her hair???

if anything i feel like satan wouldn’t like her because he’s offended that people think those chunk of hair look remotely like a cat’s cute lil ears

chose all his other team members based solely on whether or not their skill set would benefit diona

refuses to use any of the characters lucifer uses and got legitimately angry when he found out lucifer had started building diona to help with spiral abyss

spends like five minutes at a time making diona jump into water because he thinks the cannon ball animation is the cutest thing in the world

if a boss he’s fighting manages to kill diona, he gets so angry that he pretty much obliterates it immediately after

asmo: lisa

partially because she’s pretty and her personality is right up his alley, and partially out of pettiness because he sees so many people slandering her

doesn’t know how to build anyone, he’s only got a good lisa build out of sheer luck

none of his other characters have remotely good builds. like, maiden’s beloved on tartaglia?? really, asmo???

squealed when lisa called traveller a cutie

talks to her while he’s running about doing quests or battles

plays pretty sparingly so his ar is relatively low and he barely has any characters outside the starters

usually gets levi to one shot the bosses for him when he needs to ascend/upgrade the talents of his characters

(levi agrees because it gives him a pretty big power trip)

he also likes kaeya and has him in his team but lisa’s magic is just so pretty to him

spends all his primos on the standard banner trying to get lisa constellations but he still only has c4

all of the solo boss battles he’s won were only won out of sheer luck

adores the concept of the serenitea pot, but he doesn’t like a lot of the furnishings available

desperately wants a character customisation function

died seven times trying to do the stormterror fight and had to have levi do it for him in the end

still doesn’t done any of the story quests that you need a key for

spends most of his free time finding some pretty landscapes, changing the time, and taking pictures of lisa doing one of her idles against the sunset

beel: xiangling

decided he liked her as soon as he did her story quest

he’s only gotten up to floor 4 of spiral abyss because he only did floor 3 to get her

still only has c2 :((((

always has to have snacks with him while he’s gaming because xiangling’s voice lines remind him of how hungry he is

desperately wishes she was real because he wants to taste how good her food is for himself

likes cooking a bunch of dishes in-game, but he also gets frustrated because they all look so GOOD and he can’t eat them

doesn’t really know how building works but he does vaguely know what stats are good and how set bonuses work

doesn’t like hu tao because she’s mean to xiangling >:( plus belphie despises her and beel rarely likes anything his twin dislikes

is low-key upset that xiangling’s story quest was so early in the game because he didn’t appreciate it enough at the time and he hasn’t seeb her in-game for ages

still doesn’t have any 5 stars apart from the traveller, but he does have literally every 4 star in the game

is the type to bring xiangling to pyro domains but luckily she does some pretty good physical dmg as well so his teammates don’t get as mad

takes some time out of every day to find every food/ingredient vendor in the game and buy out their entire stock

still has never run out of mora somehow????

belphie: qiqi

i made this choice partially because of that one halloween belphie ur where he’s dressed up in a jiangshi costume

aside from that i feel like she just sends his big brother instincts haywire

he cried a little bit when he read her backstory, not gonna lie

like satan, he will kill you if you call qiqi a loli

somehow managed to build her as a physical dps that does like 5000 per hit?????

(he has unholy artifact luck and all of qiqi’s artis have atk, crit dmg and crit rate as their stats and sub-stats, plus aquila favonia)

he started out building her as an all-around dps but then he realised that her burst and skill couldn’t do much in terms of damage since they’re healing-oriented, so he decided to build her physical since that the only type of dmg she can constantly apply

and qiqi still heals reliably because her healing is scaled off her attack, which is like monstrously high???

qiqi hates hu tao so of course belphie does too

he still refuses to do her story quest and didn’t touch her banner or character trial

really really wants a qiqi banner for constellations but is aware that that is incredibly unlikely

doesn’t trust baizhu and wants zhongli to adopt qiqi since he seems like a much more reliable dad

heard the theory that xiao is the adeptus that killed qiqi and therefore also despises him even though it hasn’t even been concerned or anything

diavolo: eula

don’t get me wrong diavolo definitely gives me pyro vibes but i feel like he’d just feel so bad for how the mondstadters misunderstand and mistreat eula in her story quest that he’d immediately go to spend all his primos on wishing for her

he’s got r2 broken pines and a full pale flame artifact set with some pretty decent stats and substats on her so she does pretty enormous damage

it’s lucky that eula’s move set doesn’t require anything too strategic because all diavolo does is button mash

all of his characters are physical damage dealers because he doesn’t really know how to do elemental reactions

(because of this though he’s awful at fighting a lot of the bosses, especially the oceanid)

his favourite boss battle is the weekly golden house trounce domain because he can always smack childe down really quickly

he’s stinking rich so he can afford to spend just about as much money as he wants to get any character he wants

like he got all the way to pity on eula’s banner and lost the 50/50 to mona but he just bought more primos and got all the way to pity again to get eula

on the other hand he got broken pines twice in two ten rolls on the weapon banner and he wasn’t anywhere near pity for that

he joined levi along with satan and asmo to have a go at doing the golden house fight in co-op and he managed to pretty much oneshot a lv90 childe in phase 1 and phase 3 with just eula’s burst

(he spent phase 2 recharging it)

barbatos: venti

this is at least 70% because venti is also called barbatos

he somehow knows pretty much everything there is to know about building characters well and he’s built venti with both attack and elemental mastery

got venti on his first banner and managed to get to c4 on his rerun

doesn’t appreciate how much venti drinks and actively buys the non-alcoholic juices from angel’s share to give him as if that’ll help????

is terrified of fighting the wolf because it’s immune to anemo

(don’t ask how he managed to get the hurricane seeds for ascending venti)

can pretty much fire off venti’s burst as soon as it’s over because his energy recharge is somehow also insane

diligently collects all the recipes and masters every single one of them

his serenitea pot is literally so perfect looking????? i don’t know how to describe it everything just fits together flawlessly

diavolo offers to buy him primos because he’s got more than enough money but barbatos doesn’t wish a whole lot so he usually refuses

(diavolo knew he mained venti and liked him though so he bought him a bunch for the rerun anyway)

he still doesn’t have any five star weapons but stringless works really well on venti anyway so he doesn’t mind

doesn’t really like co-op, prefers to just wander around in his own world

simeon: yanfei

simeon definitely gives me hydro vibes and he probably mained a hydro before yanfei, but i feel like he happened to get her on zhongli’s banner and decided he really liked her as soon as he started trying her out

he adores her little ‘boom boom!’

she also works really well doing big damage with vaporise which is good because simeon plays a lot with luke, who mains barbara

he low key identifies with how yanfei doesn’t want to focus on her identity as an immortal half-adeptus because simeon himself often wants to forget the fact that he’s a divine being and just live peacefully

often forgets that yanfei gets a lot of her dmg from charged attacks and just keeps doing normal attack combos until he registers the scarlet seals and realises he needs to hold the button down

nearly all of his characters were basically backseat-built by levi and solomon

even though his team is pretty powerful he still dies a bunch because his battle strategy is just ‘stand there and keep hitting the attack button until it dies’

keeps running off of cliffs and forgetting to plunge/glide and just dying to fall damage

back when he was like ar20 he accidentally wandered into liyue early and immediately got killed by a treasure hoarder

spent like ten minutes of his first stormterror fight just running off the end of his platform before someone told him he was meant to glide

luke: barbara as well

if you’ve seen my post about barbara and luke being siblings you’ll understand why i’ve made this choice

aside from that luke just likes barbara because she’s one of the nicest characters in the game

plus she’s a deaconess in a church and he’s an angel so

unlike levi he’s got her built purely as a healer, but she heals so MUCH

luke’s entire team is just support characters?? but their support is so good that they kind of make each other dpses in their own right??

his strategy is to keep his whole team at full hp and deal relatively small but very steady increments of damage

unfortunately this means he isn’t great at the artifact and weapon/character enhancement domains because they’ve got time limits

wants to have a pretty serenitea pot but he just can’t get it to look how he wants it to

like levi, he doesn’t like jean because of how she makes barbara feel (and also how jean just refuses to take any sort of older sister role for her)

got her to c6 on a single event banner because she just kept coming home (he wasn’t complaining though)

is contemplating building her dps because he thinks it’d be cool if she did a bunch of damage like levi’s barbara

likes to just sit and wait for her to do her dancing idle because he thinks it’s cute (will immediately make her move and cut off the other one though because it’s about jean and he doesn’t like her)

solomon: albedo

they both look sensible but they’re both just mad scientists on the inside

doesn’t really know how albedo’s burst and skill work, just keeps tapping buttons whenever they’re available

if he didn’t have albedo he’d probably main a catalyst but he relates to how curious albedo is about just about everything

(plus he does like his design)

always gets the limited time 5 star on his first ten pull on the event banners????? is he using his magic somehow??????

and also somehow gets really good weapons and artifacts????

he knows enough about artifacts to know what to put on who so all of his characters are really well built

he’s the type with eight lv90 5-stars with lv90 5-star weapons and fully upgraded artifact sets in his character showcase

his signature is ‘hack me i dare you’

constantly getting friend requests from fellow players who want an op friend to help them in domains and against bosses

but unfortunately even if solomon has a bunch of overpowered characters he is very bad at using them

gets all the elemental reactions wrong, uses the wrong element against the wrong enemy, forgets to do things like putting albedo’s skill down before his ult, and he can’t aim with any of the archers

like i said he just taps buttons and hopes for the best

because of this he’s still at floor 6 in spiral abyss

[ikeromantic]

My Favorite Place

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic, Approx. 2600 words. This scene takes place after the romantic epilogue and completely inside my head. Fluff!

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Lunches with Friends

The letter from Sasuke arrived on the same day Mitsuhide planned to speak with Nobunaga - to request permission to take his little one on a journey.

The timing of the ninja’s reply could not be better. His letter said the passage 'home' would be open in less than a month’s time, ‘assuming calculations are correct.’

He also went on to say he was uncertain how regular these passages would be. And that he didn’t recommend travel unless all parties were committed to the destination.

An interesting wrinkle in Mitsuhide’s plans. He did not want to be caught, 500 years from all his plans, his allies, his work. It struck him then that this was what his little mouse had done. Perhaps not purposely, not when she left. But she’d chosen - for him - to abandon all she knew and held dear. How could he shrink at the possibility of doing the same for her?

These thoughts swirled through him as he mounted the steps of the tenshu. He did his best to bottle them up when he reached the door. In dealing with Nobunaga, he must have a clear mind.

Mitsuhide knocked lightly. The door opened.

His little mouse stood there, looking quite surprised to see him.

He smiled at her, hiding his own surprise. She’d gone out shopping today, or so Kyubei told him. Either his vassal was slipping or the chatelaine was improving her skill at misdirection. “Little one. I see you arrived ahead of me.”

Mitsuhide studied her expression. She looked pleased. Her cheeks were pink, eyes bright. His gaze passed her into the room beyond. Nobunaga sat, his newest tea set in use on the table. Ranmaru stood nearby, head down. The kitsune warlord wondered what transpired, but he knew he would get it from his little one later, if nothing else. She couldn’t dissemble well enough to avoid his direct questions.

“I . . . didn’t realize you were dropping by too! We could have had tea together.” She fiddled with the tie on her obi.

“Yes. We could have. I was under the impression you were in town. How silly of me.” Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow.

His little one had the grace to blush. “Ah, well, I am going to town. Now. To shop.” She looked down.

Mitsuhide chuckled. She was still so very innocent, even when she tried to be tricky. He cupped her cheek and gently raised her head to look at him. “Then allow me to kiss you goodbye.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Slowly, savoring the moment he felt her relax into his touch, responding with her mouth, her body.

She took a step closer to him, and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Mmm,” Mitsuhide smiled as he pulled back from her. “I will see you at home later. You will be back before dinner?”

“Yes.” Her voice was a tad breathless.

“Good. I am sure we will have many things to discuss.” His golden eyes shone with curiosity that would not be denied.

His little mouse nodded. “See you later, then.” She scurried past and down the stairs.

“Was that for my benefit,” Nobunaga asked dryly.

“It was for mine.” Mitsuhide entered and bowed.

Nobunaga gestured him forward. “Sit. I expected to see you today.”

“I thought you might.” Mitsuhide sat and waited quietly while Ranmaru poured tea.

“Do you have something to report?”

Mitsuhide sipped at the hot tea, considering what he did have to say, beyond requesting time absent from Azuchi. His gaze drifted to Ranmaru and then back to Nobunaga.

His lord’s eyes narrowed. “Ranmaru, you are needed in the kitchen.”

“My lord?” The page looked up, surprised.

“The kitchen,” Nobunaga repeated.

Ranmaru gave a quick bow and hurried out. He cast one look at Mitsuhide over his shoulder, a nervous glance, and then he was gone.

“Thank you my lord. I do prefer privacy for our discussions.”

Nobunaga frowned slightly. He said nothing, only waited for his warlord to continue.

Mitsuhide picked out a few gems to share. “The Aki province is not as peaceful as Hideyoshi has been led to believe. The coalition he is working on a treaty with will fall apart. They are not honest in their dealings.”

Nobunaga’s brow furrowed. “How do you know this?”

“A bit of information here, some there. I put it together. The Mouri clan will continue to defy you, I am sure. And there is more. The Ikko Ikki still have much influence among the common folk. They continue to recruit and train. It is only a matter of time before they make another attempt on your life.”

“That isn’t news so much as a certainty.” Nobunaga gestured imperiously. “They will yield or fall. I do not fear Kennyo.”

“It isn’t the demon abbot I worry about either. It is the forces that seek to use him. He was once friends with The Tiger of the Kai, and some of his followers have been seen in Sakai, speaking with foreign merchants.” Mitushide shrugged. “I cannot say what it will mean.”

Nobunaga nodded. He hadn’t forgotten their enemies in Echigo.

“I have placed some people in each camp, watching. If an opportunity arises -”

“I trust my left hand to deal with the knives at my back.” He smiled for the first time since Mitsuhide’s arrival. “But I think you came to do more than report?”

Mitsuhide bowed his head. “Perceptive as always, my lord.” He cleared his throat. “I need to be absent for a time. With my fiancee. I wish to show her Sakamoto, and to take her to the Mino province. Perhaps . . . further.”

Nobunaga was quiet for a moment. “How long do you intend to be gone?”

“A month? Likely more.”

“You would take my good luck charm and leave me one-handed, knowing my enemies surround us?” Nobunaga didn’t sound angry, only curious. He knew Mitsuhide always had some sort of plan in mind.

“Think more than your left hand will be out of sight, rather than gone.” Mitsuhide looked up.

Nobunaga regarded him with those impenetrable carnelian eyes. He was one man the kitsune warlord could never fully read. “And my good luck charm?”

“Will be in good hands.”

“And if I say no?” One brow rose in question.

Mitsuhide smiled, sharp and thin. “Have I ever betrayed you?”

Nobunaga laughed, a full throated, head thrown back guffaw. It faded to a chuckle and then just a smile. “You may go. I expect you to bring my luck charm back unharmed and in good spirits.”

He bowed again. “I will endeavor not to disappoint you.”

“You will not.” Nobunaga’s eyes were hard, though he still smiled.

Mitsuhide spent the rest of his day wondering what his lord and his lover had talked about. He could think of a dozen things. A sewing commission? Her work as chatelaine? Funds? Was there something she needed - and had she gone to Nobunaga for it? Not knowing bothered him more than he expected.

Worse, Kyubei was nowhere to be found. A fact that made him certain his vassal knew what she was up to. Of all the things Mitsuhide had expected to share with his lover, his vassal’s loyalty had not been his first thought. Not that he minded . . . much. But Kyubei’s first oath was to him.

He nearly went to Azuchi to look for the two of them. But patience was always the wiser course. Instead, he busied himself at the manor, sending missives to his castles and telling them to expect his arrival. Then, preparing his manor servants for an extended absence. They knew what to do and needed very little instruction.

Despite his attempts at distraction, he was on pins until he heard Kyubei and his little mouse return. They were laughing as they walked into the hall, his vassal’s low voice an indistinct rumble under her high, sweet chatter.

“We were lucky we -” She stopped speaking as Kyubei interrupted.

“We were! I did tell you, my lady. I expect we will need to -” His vassal stopped himself, then continued on a whole different topic. “Ready yourself for dinner with my lord. I will check on the menu. Do you need a maid?”

“No, Kyubei. I think I can handle it. Thank you, again.”

“It is the least I owe you.”

Her laugh, sweet and gentle. “You owe me nothing. But I’d like to think we’re friends now.”

“We are, my lady.”

Mitsuhide looked out in time to see Kyubei bow and leave for the kitchens. Clearly he suspected they were being listened to. What lucky thing had happened? And what did he expect they would need to do? His little one was turning into quite the conspirator. She would need to deliver herself of these secrets. Her lover had some ideas on how best to get them out of her.

He waited until she was in her rooms to approach, sliding her door open silently. She was dressed in just her underclothes, a cool, wet cloth pressed to her face. She didn’t hear him as he came in, and shut the door behind him.

Mitsuhide took advantage of the moment to see if she’d brought any packages, but there was nothing new in her room. He came up behind her and settled his arms around her waist.

His little one shrieked and leapt up. She put her foot back and tried to pull him forward, but that move only worked if he was moving that direction when she did it. Like this, it was ineffective, but he was proud of her for trying. She turned, ready to place an elbow in his ribs, and then she saw who had her.

“Mitsuhide! You - you bastard!” Her cheeks were bright pink, all the way to the tips of her ears.

“Are you angry with me, little mouse?”

“No. Yes! You scared me!”

Mitsuhide chuckled. “And are you still afraid?”

She shook her head. “Just mad at you.”

“Oh? Then I will have to make it up to you.” He bent down to kiss the nape of her neck. “I cannot bear for you to be angry with me.” He kissed along her neck, enjoying the little sigh of pleasure that escaped her lips.

“It’s going to t-take more than a few kisses. Tease.”

“I have much more than that in mind.” Mitsuhide sat and pulled her into his lap. He hadn’t realized how much he missed holding her until she was in his arms. His unsettled feelings faded as she nestled against his chest.

“I missed you today.”

“And I, you.” He kissed her and it made the one they’d shared at the tenshu seem a pale shadow for the warmth and passion in it. Mitsuhide stroked her back and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

They parted, reluctant and breathless. Neither said anything for awhile. And then they both spoke at once.

“What were you -”

“Why were you -”

She laughed. “You first.”

“Alright.” He shifted her to face away from him and began unpinning her hair. Mitsuhide told himself it was because she was less guarded when enjoying herself, but the truth was, he just liked the feel of it. He waited until he’d released her hair from it’s bun, and began gently combing his fingers through it, before he spoke again. “I wondered what you went to Nobunaga for. Did he summon you?”

“Mmmm, no . . . I just had to talk to him.” She sighed happily at his gentle ministrations.

“Oh? Is your lover allowed to know what you talked about?”

She gave a breathy laugh. “Are you jealous, Mitsuhide?”

“No.” He scowled. “A little.” It was more than jealousy, and less. A layered emotion. He didn’t fear that she loved someone else. No one could take her from him. It wasn’t that. It was . . . Nobunaga’s claim on her as his charm. His casual ownership of her as an Oda princess. Coming from his lord, he could accept it but if she saw herself that way . . .

“I needed to talk to him about us. I didn’t want bad feelings. He was my boss after all. Still is, I guess.” She laughed again.

“About us, little one?” His heart thudded suddenly in his chest.

She bent her head forward and took a breath. “I hope you don’t think it’s silly. I just wanted him to know I love you. And that I needed to be here with you.”

Mitsuhide froze. Of all the things he thought they might have discussed, he hadn’t thought she went to Nobunaga to have a heart-to-heart.

“Of course, I let him know I still care about him, and the others. I mean, I haven’t abandoned them - I’m still around.” She realized he wasn’t moving. “Is that alright? Mitsuhide? Did I say something I shouldn’t have?” She looked at him, worried.

He pulled her into a hug, burying his face against her shoulder. “You have no idea . . .”

She kissed him on the side of his head. “I don’t understand you sometimes. Most times, actually. I thought you might be angry.”

“I am never angry with you.” He sat up and resumed finger-combing her hair. Mitsuhide was intensely glad no one could see how easily she disarmed him. Took apart his plans and defenses and left him bare by just being so adorable.

“Is that all you wanted to know?”

“About Nobunaga, yes. How did your shopping go? Was Kyubei a help?” Mitushide was relaxed now, confident her answer would be as innocent as the first.

“Shopping went fine. Kyubei was great. He is really very resourceful.”

“Oh?” Mitsuhide began to braid her hair. His dextrous fingers were good at three and five strand plaits. It was a little like tying a bond, or ropework. But infinitely more pleasant.

“Yes. We - we found what we needed to.”

“And what was that?”

She shrugged. “Just, stuff. Nothing to be interested in.”

Mitsuhide knew deflection when he heard it. “But I am, little mouse. Did you find some new fabric? A tool for your sewing kit?”

“No . . . don’t worry about it.”

“Is it a secret?” Mitsuhide’s eyes shone. “You know how much I like teasing secrets from you.”

She wriggled in his lap, as if considering escape.

He tied off the braid with a ribbon and leaned down to nip her neck. With his lips against her ear, he whispered, “Is that what you want me to do?”

“N-no! This is - Mitsuhide - that’s not fair!” She nestled back against him as if defeated. “I’ll tell you if you really want to know. But I’d rather keep it a surprise.”

Ah, what a conundrum. He wanted to know everything about her, especially the things she wanted to hide. But he knew how hard she tried to surprise him. His gorgeous haori was the latest example, though he’d figured it out only a week into its construction.

Mitsuhide stroked his hands down her arms, soothing. “I will be patient then. Until your surprise is ready. But . . . we’ll be traveling soon. Will that be a problem?”

She made a happy squeal. “Are we going to visit your home? On a vacation?”

“Yes, love. I spoke with Nobunaga about it and he has granted us both leave.”

“I can’t wait. I want to see all your favorite places. Hear all the stories about you as a boy! Will you introduce me to your family?” She sounded so excited. It pleased Mitsuhide to no end to hear joy in her voice.

“My family has passed, but I will be glad to introduce you to those that remain. I will show you everything you might find beautiful, but you should know little one, my favorite place is wherever you are.”

Next: My Home Is Your Home

[consumeconstantly]

Lady Cross (first aid)

Summary: Somehow, Marinette always ends up biting off more than she can chew. It started off with a kid and a nasty gash on their knee. The sudden escalation to treating the new head of Gotham’s underworld? It can only be explained by the fact that she’s catnip for trouble. 

_____________________________________________

Marinette supposed she should have expected something like this to happen eventually.

Really, she patches up a few street kids and offers a meal and some resources and suddenly she's made a name for herself in the slums of Gotham. It’s not like she’s doing anything revolutionary. Well, okay, maybe she does cheat a little bit and uses her healing powers on a few of the tougher cases that really should have been out of her realm of expertise, but she’s living near the slums of Gotham for a reason. That reason being Marinette is just a little broke and can’t really afford to send everyone she comes across to the hospital, and the people who are injured certainly can’t. It’s not like she can leave them to die. That would be heartless.

When she stopped treating scrapes and cuts for kids on the streets as she came across them and instead found her apartment balcony frequented by families who needed her help, she couldn’t just say no. And so, more and more serious wounds started coming in. Kids brought their parents and friends. The parents and friends brought... well, if the police stopped by her apartment any time soon, she’s fairly certain they’d have a field day.

But again, it’s not like she’s going to turn these people into the police when they’ve come to her for help and have a small army of people who swear up and down that they’re good people and only doing what they have to do in order to get by.

Morality comes in such a variety of shades, who was she to judge? Ladybug and Marinette have both certainly had their fair share of mistakes that they’d gladly go back in time to rectify, and her hands weren’t clean of blood either. Sure, the Miraculous Cure may have brought people back, but their deaths were still on her. And Hawkmoth? Yeah, he’s alive now, but she hammered him into the pavement after dropping him from the top of the Eiffel tower, and she’s not going to pretend that she didn’t take a bit of morbid joy in that moment.

But back to the matter at hand. Which was, the notorious Red Hood—responsible for a coup amongst Gotham’s drug dealers and responsible for taking down a man whose morality truly vanished with the wind, Black Mask himself— was currently bleeding out on her second floor balcony, smoking a cigarette and lounging against the rail like he owned the place. 

“Lady Cross,” he inclined his head.

“Red Hood,” Marinette returned his greeting.

God, she really didn’t want to get involved with Red Hood. She wasn’t opposed to helping out street thugs and criminals, but Red Hood was a different league. He seemed to be a fairly decent guy, ensuring that kids weren’t dealt drugs and tried to keep them out of the circuit as much as possible. He took down plenty of worse criminals while he was at it. In fact, Marinette would go so far to say the Red Hood as one the good guys.

But the issue was, once she started treating people of a certain level, she’d be open game. And that didn’t seem very enticing to her. Not at all. Everyone knew that Red Hood had beef with the Bat Family for some reason or other, and also made enemies with almost every single rogue in Gotham, and a good number of enemies outside of it as well. Basically, Red Hood was a universal enemy of both the vigilantes and rogues. Someone she shouldn’t get involved with while she was trying to investigate the darkness surrounding Gotham whole running her online boutique and going to college at Gotham University.

Unfortunately, Tom and Sabine and her own stint as Ladybug taught her that she could never ignore someone in need. Marinette sighed and slid the mesh open, leading Red Hood to her living room. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Real nice place you got here,” he said.

With the mask covering the whole of his face, Marinette had no facial expressions to figure out whether he was poking fun at her current living situation or not. His voice sounded genuine, but vocal emotions were easy to fake.

The apartment she was living in was not on the nice side of town. There were three bullet holes in the wall between her living room and bedroom that she just didn’t have time to patch up, some pretty nasty looking stains on the ceiling near her kitchen, and a huge, spray painted red cross on one of her walls, which was where her street name derived from. Her floor and coffee table were also in states of disarray; she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to clean up after working on two commissions and the last guest whose wounds were heavy enough to warrant several rolls of gauze, which was now half stuffed into a garbage can sitting next to rolls of fabric. Perhaps not the neatest or most sanitary situation, but she didn’t have time to clean up before every single one of her unexpected guests came in.

Look, it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t have time to fix things up real nice and neat. She’d only been living in the apartment for a month and a half, and most times, she barely spent any time in it other than to sleep, cram last minute projects for her design course, or to help heal people. Her living situation wasn’t the biggest of worries.

“Sit,” Marinette gestured to the one of the few pieces of furniture that she specifically bought for the apartment. She didn’t mind the stained, half broken, and extremely creaky couch the last owners left behind for the first week, but after she started bringing back her first… visitors, it seemed important that the couch was comfortable, sturdy, and most crucially, cleanable.

Rummaging through a cabinet, she pulled out a tattered briefcase she thrifted a while back to keep all of her medical supplies in. Not the prettiest of things, but she tried not to keep expensive looking items in her apartment because she wasn’t a fan of getting mugged. The medicine she kept was already expensive enough, she didn’t need to attract everyone’s attention by owning one of those metal containers used in hospitals. Even though most of the people who dropped by her apartment were thankful to be treated, she had a few instances where people tried to steal things from her.

“What’s the damage, doc?” Red Hood’s voice came through rather tinny through his helmet. 

Marinette grimaced. The helmet must have awful air circulation. It looked like some sort of metal, and wet and metal never smelled good together. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Thought you were supposed to be some mystic healer who came from the far east.”

She paused and looked at the man, trying to judge whether he was racist as well as rude. “That’s rather insulting.” 

Red Hood shrugged. Marinette applauded the man for showing no outward sign of pain at that, even though there was a bullet embedded in his shoulder, and shrugging had to bite. “That’s what the word on the street is, though you sound French to me. Thought I’d come and check out who’s healing Gotham’s criminals. What’re you planning?”

“Sorry to foil your plans, but I’m not planning anything other than getting my college degree and not pissing off the people I live near.” She paused, flipping the lock on the briefcase upwards. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use me as your go to healer from now on. You’re going to bring trouble my way.”

“Trouble? Me? Perish the thought.” His hand rested comfortably on the holister of his gun, ready to shoot if the girl pulled out a weapon from the briefcase. “We’ll talk about repeat appearances after I see how you do today.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Any wounds other than the obvious?”

“Just need the bullet out, and some stitches on the gash.” His shoulder and his abdomen, respectively. The gash looked nastier than the bullet; no shrapnel, but the cut on his stomach was jagged and wide. Not a normal, sharp blade. Probably needed a good cleaning.

She grabbed the tweezers, a sterilized needle, and medical thread. “That’s fine. Now are you going to undress, or am I going to have to cut your… costume… up?”

“Getting me naked already? We haven’t even had our first date yet.”

“Very funny, little Red Riding Hood. Now hop to it. I have class at 9 tomorrow and projects to finish tonight.” Somehow, trouble always seemed to find her when she least wanted it to. Not that she wanted to have trouble find her at all, but luck was a two way street, and for all that being Ladybug granted her good luck, she attracted criminals like catnip. 

“And here my informants had me thinking you were a regular Florence Nightingale.”

Marinette snorted. “They wish. I’ve got to ask who told you, because everybody should know the rules. You know, the ones where they don’t speak of my existence to their higher ups?”

“I’m not a rat,” Red Hood said, taking the top part of his outfit off. “And it’s not like you would have gone unnoticed anyways. You might be treating small timers now, but people catch on to healers pretty easy.”

“Because some gauze and sewing skills make me such a prime target.”

“No, your magic does.”

Shit. Marinette never told anyone she was using magic, and she rarely used it unless it was a dire situation. If she could patch them up using regular skills, she did. 

“Yeah right, if I had magic healing powers, do you think I’d be shoving my fingers into your shoulder to get a bullet out?”

“Not a very good liar, Lady Cross. You have this deer-caught-in-the-headlights look about you.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I’m also the deer that tramples through your windshield and takes a dump on the driver’s seat.” She maneuvered the tweezers a little rougher, hoping to make Red Hood hiss in pain. He just chuckled, amused. His high pain tolerance was getting rather annoying. She had half a mind to pour hydrogen peroxide over the wound just to see if that would make him show he was in pain, but thought better of it. Even though she didn’t like the man, she also didn’t want to piss him off. Or worse, have him come back and make her fix him up again. 

Threading the needle, she made quick, small stitches on his shoulder, sewing the bullet hole up, then put some petroleum jelly to speed up the healing process and reduce scarring. At least the wound was in a position that didn’t require a lot of gauze. She needed to go out and buy some more soon. She barely had enough to wrap around Red Hood’s waist.

“So, the magic,” Red Hood started. “Is it a conditional thing? Can you not use it all the time?”

“Again, I don’t have magic.” Marinette did have to use some antibacterial on the knife wound. He would need to take good care of that one to make sure it didn’t get infected. 

“So a meta, then. What are you doing in Gotham? Everybody knows Batman hates metas.”

“Not a meta, either, sorry to disappoint.” She tied off the gauze, then stood to wash her hands. “Make sure to clean the stomach wound well. Hope you have your tetanus shot, otherwise you should look into getting one.”

“Surprisingly, I’m inclined to believe you on the not-a-meta thing. Back to the first thing, then. Magic. Why don’t you show me the old razzle dazzle? Do you have to say one of those weird spells like the godmother in Cinderella? Bibbity bobbity boo?”

“You’re hilarious,” Marinette dead panned. 

“How’s this for magic? Bibbity bobbity boo, kindly leave. Shoo.” She followed his suggestion, made a show of jazz hands as well. “Pity I don’t use magic otherwise you’d be gone now. Anyways, it’s time for you to make your exit. It would be great if you didn't visit me again. Ever. Thanks.”

She ushered him out onto her patio, then slammed the sliding door. He saluted her before dropping off the side of the building. She could imagine the man under the helmet smirking.

Marinette ran a hand through her loose hair. “He’s going to come back, isn’t he.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

[village-headcanons]

hc's for the four lords celebrating hannukah with their s/o? (also anon is off jsyk)

(Oh shoot, thank you for the update, I thought I had that fixed! I just turned it on, thanks again)

Okay, I will preface this that I myself am goyim, but my partner is converting to Judaism, so I'm relying heavily on some of the things he's taught me (and what I've heard from his Rabbi, so if I get anything wrong, I'm so deeply sorry)

Alcina Dimitrescu

*The village hadn't any religion outside of the cult of Mother Miranda and the Four Lords. So while Alcina is from outside the village originally for the first 40-50 years of her life, she's also spent 40-50 years inside the village. Please be patient with her, she's only heard of Judaism in passing.

*Is it a party? She's happy to do any sort of celebration!

*Are you a conservative or reform Jewish? Because asking Alcina to turn off all her electricity in the middle of winter is a potential issue. Her daughters are extremely vulnerable to the cold, and her servants can't work without the lights on.

It could cause some issues, but she'd try her damndest to find a work around that makes sure you don't break tradition.

*Menorah's. You best believe she's going to see to it that you have something worthy of you. She won't want it gaudy, something exquisite and refined. And she'll make sure it has plenty of oil in it, so you can light it without worry.

*Keeping kosher on that day is going to be difficult for the cooks, it's a small village that relies more on pork and the occasional lamb than beef. However there's plenty of fish in the localized pools of water, so while you won't be able to do roast beef, Alcina will make sure the cooks prepare you and her daughters a feast of chickens, pomegranates, plums, root vegetables and fish.

*Though because there is gift giving, she tries her best to make each trinket tailored specifically to you. Nothing over the top, because she worries it'll make you uncomfortable.

*Her daughters love playing the dreidel with you. And might get a little competitive with each other trying to knock over their sisters' first.

Donna Beneviento

*Donna grew up in the village, so unlike her big sister Alcina, she's never really heard of Christianity, so you'll never have to worry about her comparing the two.

*The minute she finds out there's sweets and fried foods involved, you can't pry her away from the kitchen. Can she add tea to it? Localized herbs to make it uniquely you two? Please let this woman bake for you, she has a sweet tooth a mile long.

*Her gifts aren't flamboyant or over the top, she was never raised that way. Instead they're little things, a carefully stitched shawl of the brightest colours she can get her hands on. Careful beads of jewelry, or pieces of clothing that fit you just right. You're like a rainbow in her life and she wants to see to it you're always as beautifully dressed as she see's you are.

*She commissions her brother to build a menorah for you two to put in the window. She isn't quite sure what it should look like, but Karl has her covered when the request is put in (Honestly Karl thought he'd live his entire life never seeing one of those again, so if he puts extra thought into his sister's request, well...no one is the wiser).

*You might be a little worried about Angie around the dreidel, but it's fun, and Angie has the competitive streak you're use to from siblings (or cousins). Donna will watch you two play for ages, applauding when either of you manage to topple the other (she hates playing favourites)

*No electricity wouldn't bother Donna in the slightest. This is a woman who has her home filled with candles, lanterns and fireplaces. Honestly sitting down to play cards, board games or even simply read aloud to her, and she's going to have an amazing time. Donna has always been about spending time with her S/O. She's lost so many important people in her life, that any chance to connect with you will have her ecstatic.

Salvatore Moreau

*This is something dear to you, so even if Moreau doesn't really understand it, he wants to make sure you have a fulfilling holiday.

*Like Donna, this man is a born and raised Villager, so you don't have to worry about the mixed connotations with him.

*Candles? Oil? Food? Sure he's down! Until you tell him you don't want the T.V on. If you practice the 'no electricity' that's going to be difficult for him.

His life (and most of his emotional baggage) is wrapped up in t.v's and movies. Please be patient with him, he's going to go through withdrawal.

*He also eats the most non-kosher diet. Cured meats, salami, pastrami, cheese. You name it, it probably breaks kosher laws.

*However, you mean the world to him. You chose him outside of anyone else, despite his...appearance and physical ailments. Prepare for Moreau to make sure he has a platter ordered from the Duke of all the things he researched you could eat. For the first time you will find fish, chicken, root vegetables and no cheese on the table.

*Where he lives, is always quite cold and damp. Prepare for gifts of heavy knitted blankets, quilts, shawls, socks and sweaters. All the things to keep you cozy, warm and happy (and dry). Some of the blankets are made of a special type of wool that wicks away water, so it'll take a lot to make it become damp.

*Moreau hasn't the best co-ordination anymore. Please be nice to him during a game of dreidel.

Karl Heisenberg

*This man remembers celebrating Chanukkah with his mother for the first several years of his life.

*Never in a million years would he have ever thought he'd hear those words again. It brings back memories, many he wishes would have remained buried. Those holidays (at first) remind him of how much Miranda took from him. His family, his life, his ancestry and religion.

*Be patient with him, it's a lot for him to struggle through.

*When you tell him you want to celebrate Chanukkah, he needs you to understand that you are not going to be able to remain completely by the laws. His factory cannot be without power, otherwise the entire village is without power.

But with that caveat, he's willing to reconnect.

*His own preference of fancy food is herbed fish, so your meals will have some chicken, certainly, and maybe a lamb shank, but he's really going to go out on the fish.

*Presents are intimate little trinkets he's made (or ordered from the Duke). A small statue of something that reminds him of you (it could be an animal, a flower or an object.)

*He is going to need to step away on occasion to keep his emotions under wraps. He loves you, dearly, but in the conversations or the way a flame flickers on a menorah, he's suddenly struck with a memory of his mother and he doesn't want to let you see him upset.

*Honestly, you celebrating this with him helps him reconnect in a way he hadn't realized he missed. Eventually, near the end of it, you'll have him laughing as you play dreidel together, nudging you when he beats you out (it's wood, he can't use his powers! He will stoutly proclaim, you lost by skill, buttercup!)

*You probably haven't seen him this at peace outside of the bedroom before he fully wakes up.

It's a good look on him.

[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley chapter 14

“It’s Bakugo.”

“Old Bakugo,” said Todoroki.

“I don’t know,” said Uraraka. “He hasn’t sworn at us yet.”

“Wish fulfillment old Bakugo,” corrected Todoroki.

First contact, said two voices. Aizawa could recognize one as belonging to Two.

“Stop comparing me to the exploding brat,” snapped Two. He returned his attention to Midoriya. “I don’t agree with your philosophy,” he said. “But this isn’t the time or the place.”

Midoriya nodded even as he swayed in place, the edges of his body fuzzy.

“Your idea will work. Eight can take him.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Aizawa.

“Nine here just ran into that fire user.”

“Dabi,” supplied Midoriya, voice thin. “Thank you for letting me use your quirk, sensei.”

“Anytime,” said Aizawa.

“Is there anything we can do?” asked Uraraka.

“Stay back and don’t distract him,” said Two. “I’d send you on ahead to One, but I need to give him my power if he wants his ridiculous escape plan to work.” He crossed his arms. “Focus, Nine.”

.

The thing was, Dabi relied on his quirk to the exclusion of everything else. Which was fine. It was a powerful quirk, and his body really wasn’t up to quirkless fighting, seeing as it was literally stapled together.

But there was a reason he had not faced Aizawa himself in the training camp, but instead had delegated that task to one of Twice’s duplicates. No matter how much his quirk hurt him, no matter how much it reminded him of that man and that time, he did not fare well in fights without it.

Toshinori and Izuku had picked up on this, and, thanks to the joys of partial telepathy and haunted quirks, had managed to come up with a plan.

It was, if Izuku was being honest, a sort of terrible plan, but Izuku and Toshinori were both injured and exhausted, and it was the best they could come up with.

Izuku would hang back and cancel Dabi’s quirk, while Toshinori beat him to a pulp.

This division of labor was decided upon through the observation that Toshinori had much greater experience in beating people to pulp and that Izuku probably wouldn’t be able to focus on using Aizawa’s quirk and fighting at the same time. But Izuku worried. Toshinori had been under so much strain today. His body was in just as bad a shape as Dabi’s. If Izuku blinked.

So don’t blink.

What a comforting consensus from the peanut gallery in the back of his head.

Nana chuckled, but she sounded strained. Not much else we can do for you right now, kid.

.

Toshinori was prepared to fight dirty.

As a hero and Symbol of Peace, he was often faced with the expectation that his fights be clean, straightforward affairs. Usually, he complied with the expectation. Few people could match his strength. Few enemies stood up again or kept fighting after he knocked them back, once. For those enemies who could match him, relatively clean fights were often still the best option to defeat them.

But there had always been exceptions, All for One being chief among them.

Toshinori could fight dirty. It was a skill he knew better than to let lapse.

He knew how much old injuries could hurt, and he had no scruple against going after them. Any weak point was fair game.

(This wasn’t even beginning to mention the others, still whispering in the back of his mind, who had maintained the thin line between the light of hope and the darkness of despair for so many years.)

His fist impacted the line of Dabi’s medical staples. Toshinori felt them bite into his knuckles, felt Dabi’s skin tear around them.

The man – the boy, really, he couldn’t be more than a handful of years older than Izuku – reeled back, shaking his hands as if he couldn’t quite believe his quirk was gone. Then he looked up, at Izuku, and Toshinori could give him this, at least: He caught on fast.

He snapped an arm out, clotheslining Dabi before he could pass him and attack Izuku. Dabi hit the ground, and Toshinori tried to follow up his advantage with a sharp kick to the head.

But, even with as much experience as Toshinori had, Dabi was younger and sprier. He recovered quickly, retaliating with comparatively clumsy but strong fists.

Toshinori was very aware of the time limit he was on. How long had Izuku kept his eyes open already? Aizawa could only keep his version of the quirk going for a few minutes.

He knew when Izuku started to waver, the concern of the past users going clear and sharp in the back of his head.

Dabi’s hands burst into flame.

“Touya!”shouted Izuku.

The man whipped his head around, apparently forgetting that Toshinori was even there.

“We saw your hair dye, you drama queen!”

Toshinori grabbed the sides of Dabi’s head, and tried to slam it into his knee, but Dabi pulled free. They were both breathing heavily, now, but Izuku had his eyes back open and fixed on Dabi.

Toshinori doubted they’d be so lucky to distract Dabi again. The others slid into place in his mind, their experience neatly complimenting his own. They needed to finish it before Izuku had to blink again.

They raised their fists.

“Visit your mom, you loser!”

They closed in.

“At least tell the police what happened to you, so they can get your siblings out!”

.

So, it turned out Izuku did have something else to contribute to the fight.

.

“Please repeat what you told me earlier,” ordered the HPSC president.

The hapless liaison with the DNA testing center flinched, then hid the flinch behind a cough. “Well,” he said, “our technicians ran Midoriya’s DNA through a number of databases, and Midoriya is related to the Scourge of Kamino, but, uh, I think it best if I let her explain the rest.” He stepped out of view of the camera, the coward.

The technician waved at the camera. “Hi, uh. So, I guess the first weird thing about the sample you gave me was how contaminated it was. There were, like, almost a dozen different people’s worth of DNA in the sample you gave me, which… usually Hawks is better than that? But then I remembered the nomu DNA, and the Scourge’s DNA, so in retrospect… Anyway, I sort of ran them all through our databases—”

“Which databases?” interrupted Mr. Brave. “The commission ones, the police ones, the public ancestry ones?”

“All of them,” said the technician. “I ran them through the old ones, too, because the Scourge of Kamino is supposed to be over a hundred years old, isn’t he? I’m kind of surprised he wasn’t run through the old databases himself earlier. You could have closed dozens of cases.”

“Get on with it,” hissed the offscreen commission liaison.

“But I ran them through, and, uh, one was All Might.”

A whisper ran through the room. “He stole All Might’s quirk?” asked one hero, traumatized.

“I don’t know,” said the technician, nervously. “I mean, All Might was there, so it could have just been contaminated in the normal way, but… No, I’ll come back to All Might’s DNA in a bit. Then there were three other heroes’ DNA, Skyrunner, Fidelity, and Lariat.”

“We’ll have to assume he has their quirks, too,” said the commission president grimly, for the benefit of the assembled heroes. “Continue.”

“Another matched to the vigilante Forewarning. Then one matched to what was labeled as a 99% surety DNA sequence from Tempest.”

“My god,” said Mr. Brave.

“Then there were some sequences that matched to samples taken from the scenes of various crimes and terrorist actions but are otherwise unknown. That left two DNA samples that could be Midoriya’s assuming he isn’t over a hundred years old. They both matched as relatives to the Scourge of Kamino.”

“What kind of relatives?”

“Uh, one was rather distant, and was actually had the least DNA present out of all the other strands… The closest possible relation would be half-brother, although cousins might be possible… The other was a parent-child relationship, and the most present DNA sequence, so I would assume that one belonged to Midoriya. The thing is…” She trailed off.

“We don’t have all day.”

“The thing is, all of the different people I’ve mentioned also are related to the Scourge of Kamino.”

Silence.

“Excuse me,” said Mt. Lady, raising a hand. “Did you say all of them? Like, including—”

“Including All Might, yes, though he’s probably more like a great-grandson or something along those lines,” said the technician. “Once you get more than a generation or two, it’s hard to tell, because the ratios of what you get from grandparents aren’t even…”

“Do you have anything more to add?”

“Yeah. After running them through the databases… Well, there are dozens of active heroes that are at least loosely related to either them or the Scourge of Kamino, not to mention villains, common criminals, and civilians who had to register their DNA for one reason or another. And the ShiHi cell line? The one that replaced the HeLa line in almost every drug trial after the quirked population got majority status? That’s a perfect match.” She laughed, clearly on the edge of hysteria. “I mean, I don’t know what we expected. He’s over a century old, of course he’s going to have kids and family members. And he’s – And he’s clearly into shady medical research. Wouldn’t put it past him to have donated to sperm banks, the sick—”

The commission president muted the technician. “You see,” he told the heroes, “why we must act to contain and neutralize Midoriya Izuku as a threat as soon as possible. So many heroes being related to an archvillain like the Scourge of Kamino would damage confidence in the hero system, perhaps irreparably.”

“Are any of us-?”

“I don’t think that’s relevant right now, do you?” asked the commission president, smoothly. “What is relevant is ensuring that Midoriya’s DNA family tree never gets into public hands.” He fell quiet, scanning the heroes with dark eyes. “Regardless of whether or not any of you could find yourselves in it, the fact of the matter is that the ensuing investigations would lay bare other things you may not wish to come to light.” He cleared his throat. “Now, Hawks is putting together a team to track down the League of Villains. In light of recent revelations, we believe they have been working closely with Midoriya…”

.

“Maybe you can use my quirk,” said Shouto. “If you’re fighting Dabi, ice would be the perfect counter.”

Midoriya shook his head. “You’re not related. Can’t.”

“What?”

Two sighed. “The trick he did with your teacher’s quirk only works on people related to him.”

Shouto blinked, then turned to look at Aizawa. “Sensei—”

“Absolutely not,” said Iida, loudly.

“You don’t know what I was going to say,” protested Shouto.

“You can’t ask people if they have secret love children! It’s improper! Let us simply wait quietly like, ah, I’m not sure we caught your name earlier, sir.”

“No, you didn’t,” said Two.

“In any case, let us wait quietly,” said Iida, not one to be easily put out.

“I’m related to Midoriya?” asked Aizawa in tones approaching despair.

“You are,” said Two. “I think you’re related to one of my younger siblings, like Six is. Possibly to the Shimuras, as well, given the secondary portion of your quirk.”

“So,” said Shouto, the gears in his brain turning, “Midoriya is related to all of you?”

“Some more distantly than others, but, yes.”

“So, he based you off relatives and people he knew in real life.”

Two sighed heavily. “Look. That was obviously a lie. Six only bothered with it because of that government bastard that’s crawling around.”

Midoriya had been right. Shouto’s conspiracy theories could be used as an interrogation technique.

“Then what’s the truth?” asked Shouto. “Or are you just embarrassed, like Midoriya is about how All Might is clearly his father?”

Midoriya made a very distressed sound, and Shouto realized that maybe this wasn’t the time.

“You have no room to talk when the pyromaniac currently trying to roast Eight is your older brother, you peppermint styled weirdo.”

“You really are like Bakugo.”

“Do you have some sort of death wish?”

“C-can you guys not? This is hard…” said Midoriya. Then, he gasped and fell to his knees. “He got him. Oh, gosh.” He took a deep breath. “My eyes.”

“Luckily, you won’t need them for this,” said Two, kneeling in front of Midoriya. “In the movement, I was called Shadow Dragon. One came up with the name. He named my quirk, too. Perception Filter. Wanted to name it Chameleon Circuit for a while, but that made no sense. He was such a nerd. He’s still a nerd.”

“Yeah?” panted Midoriya. “Guess that… isn’t a surprise. He used old manga to support his arguments with—No, it doesn’t make it better that you only used that argument once. I mean, sure, I’d probably have made the same—”

“Focus, Nine,” said Two, snapping his fingers in front of Midoriya’s face.

Shouto stepped forward.

“It’s okay, Todoroki,” said Midoriya. “I’m just… How did it work? The Perception Filter?”

“No idea. We didn’t have fancy tests and doctors on hand to figure out the mechanics. But I can tell you what it did. When it first came in—” Midoriya nodded at this, as if he heard something in the sentence that Shouto was missing, “—I could disappear from the senses of one targeted person, along with anything I was carrying. Sight, hearing, smell – that last will be the important one for you.”

“Gigantomachia,” said Midoriya, nodding again.

“Exactly. Later, I was able to affect more people at a time, and my range grew. The fewer people I was hiding from, the farther I could reach, up to about a mile. Sometimes, I could draw attention towards myself, too, although I could never keep it up for long.”

“Activation?” asked Midoriya.

“Don’t think too hard about being hidden. You’re blending in. Part of the scenery. No ripples on the surface of the pond. A shadow inside a shadow.”

“Okay,” said Midoriya. “I think I’ve got it. Were you… were you ever able to hide other people with you? Otherwise…”

“Sometimes I thought I did. When Three and I worked together, we were always way luckier than we should have been, and there were some incidents with cars… But it never happened in a way I could test. Your best bet is just carrying Eight.”

“R-right. Okay. I’ll try that.”

.

“Izuku, you can barely open your eyes. Or stand up. You aren’t going to carry me.”

“But Two said—”

Toshinori frowned deeply and hoped Two got the message. “Just focus on yourself, right now, alright? Gigantomachia will be looking for you, first, not me.”

We’ve always been thankful Gigantomachia isn’t the brightest of All for One’s minions.

Even if he is one of the most annoying.

I don’t know if annoying is the word I’d use…

Toshinori blinked and shook his head. “You’re shaking,” he said.

“I’m okay,” said Izuku, trying to get up. “T’many quirks at once.”

Toshinori put his hands on Izuku’s shoulders, silently telling him to stay down. What a time to forget where he had packed the blankets… Although…

He looked back at where he’d propped Dabi, unconscious, up against a tree.

Dabi seemed to have a cold resistance vestigial mutation… although how Toshinori knew that was a mystery for another day (one probably connected with how One for All manifested in Izuku) and he was a fire quirk user. He didn’t really need that jacket. Besides, Toshinori was a villain now. Sort of. As he and Izuku had discussed earlier, villains were veritable bastions of pettiness.

He stole Dabi’s coat and wrapped it around Izuku’s shoulders.

.

Miles away, trying to coordinate heroes over a video call, Hawks lost contact with one of his feathers. Specifically, the one he’d hidden in Dabi’s coat. He did not frown, twitch, stutter, or otherwise falter. He did, however, curse internally, using words he suspected the hero commission would have like him to never have learned.

Dabi must have found the feather and destroyed it. Hawks had thought he’d hidden it better than that.

This was going to be a pain to explain.

.

Giagantomachia paused for a second, then, with a howl, redoubled his attacks.

“Can anyone tell what he’s screaming about?” demanded Tomura.

“No idea!” said Toga, her cheerfulness more than a little ragged.

“Hey, boss!” said Twice. “If I made a double of this guy, do you think they’d fight each other, or – Dear god, who in their right mind would want two of these things running around?”

“LITTLE LORD,” wailed Machia, “WHERE DID YOU GO?”

“Say, Shigaraki,” said Mr. Compress, narrowly dodging a boulder, “you don’t – ha – think he’s referring to the little green haired – er, white haired – oh, you know what I mean.”

Yeah, Tomura did, actually, which meant the brat (who might be Sensei’s brat – don’t think about it) was around here somewhere, and they’d missed him.

(Like everything else about this situation, Tomura had mixed feelings about this.)

“So, maybe, if the boy and the giant are acquainted, the mother—”

“Do all of you idiots have a death wish? You don’t fight two bosses at once unless you want to be pancaked.”

“I was thinking she could perhaps calm the giant—”

“Yeah, right before they team up to kill us. What part of this are you not getti-?”

Mr. Compress didn’t quite make the dodge and was catapulted into one of the few nearby trees that were still standing. As he lost consciousness, all of the various marbles in his pockets ballooned and broke, disgorging their contents. This meant that Tomura had to rescue Midoriya Inko from being crushed between an entire bus stop shelter (why, Compress, why?) and several logs, because if there was even a chance that she was Sensei’s wife, Tomura didn’t fancy his chances at staying alive if she was unalived in his general vicinity.

As Tomura was in no way a goody-two-shoes hero student, had never trained himself to safely save people, and had a quirk that literally destroyed everything his touched, this went far from perfectly.

At least Midoriya seemed unharmed.

“Ah,” she said. “My shirt.” She shifted slightly. “And my bra…”

There was a shout of utter rage from Gigantomachia, and Tomura contemplated just letting Machia kill him. Surely, being stomped flat by a man taller than most five story buildings would be less painful than whatever Sensei would come up with.

“Oh, my, Machia, is that you?” asked Midoriya Inko, quite calmly, as if she weren’t standing half naked in the middle of a battlefield in winter. “It’s been forever.”

“MRS. LORD!” shouted Machia, his eyes tearing up. “I AM SO SORRY! I LOST LITTLE LORD!”

“Oh, really? He was here, then?” Her eyes were glittering. “I’m sure he couldn’t have gone too far. If we walk around a bit, I’m sure he’ll hear us calling. In the meantime… perhaps you can explain to me what, exactly, you do for my husband? Your role in his business seems to have been downplayed.”

.

“Is that better?” asked Toshinori.

Izuku nodded tiredly. Despite Two’s instructions, he couldn’t keep up Perception Filter and, well, do anything else, really. Toshinori wasn’t much better. Izuku could tell, through One for All, that he was also on his last legs.

“Alright. Let’s keep going the way we were before,” said Toshinori, pulling Izuku up. “Got to get out of Gigantomachia’s range, so you can sleep.”

He did not say that reaching the Wild Wild Pussycats’ camp was now out of the question, with how beaten up they were. They’d be sleeping outside tonight. Hopefully they had enough clothes and blankets…

Izuku shuddered as the pounding sensation in his head increased.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” said Toshinori, guiding Izuku with a hand on his back. “Good, you have the briefcase, good.” Toshinori kept muttering encouragement. Izuku really wasn’t paying attention, which made him feel terrible, but he had to keep Perception Filter going. He had to keep going. Just a little bit more… Aizawa-sensei and his friends were almost to One. One would get them out before he broke through.

He just had to hold on until then.

.

Midoriya’s form flickered and then faded. Two sighed.

“Is he alright?” asked Aizawa. “Is he safe?”

“As safe as he and Eight can be, wandering through a forest filled with All for One’s minions while the government tries to track him down in the middle of winter,” replied Two. “Which isn’t very safe, speaking from experience. Come on, let’s go.” Two walked out the hole in the wall, not waiting to see if Aizawa or any of the kids followed.

“You’re calling Yagi Eight, now?” asked Aizawa.

“That’s his number, yeah. Hurry up.”

“Yagi, not Yagi’s… impression, his copy in Midoriya’s mind.” Two didn’t answer. “You aren’t impressions or copies at all, are you? You’re real people, somewhere, that Midoriya is connected to. Why pretend otherwise?”

“Some of the others thought Nine could fix things with the government, if they didn’t know what was really going on. Thought it would be ‘worth it.’ So stupid, after everything…” They walked through the compound gate and into a living room.

“It seems awfully contrived, though. Why try to be dead heroes? Why pick people like Skyrunner and Fidelity to impersonate?”

Two snorted. “They weren’t impersonating anyone. They really are Skyrunner and Fidelity. Except for Eight and Nine, we’re all dead, otherwise we would have finished this by now. Eight almost did, all on his own.”

They turned a corner. Two young children played in a bedroom while a teen watched on. One child was obviously a younger version of Two. That hair was distinctive. The other child had a short curtain of white hair. They had action figures they were playing with, although Aizawa didn’t recognize who they were of.

First contact, said a single, young voice.

The face of the teen leaning against the wall was scribbled out, as if with a marker.

“Don’t look too closely at that one,” said Two.

“Who is that?” asked Uraraka.

“All for One. I suppose you’d call him the Scourge of Kamino.”

“He’s your older brother?” asked Todoroki, his eyebrows raised into his hairline.

“Don’t be disgusting. Biologically speaking, he was my cousin.”

Oh, no, thought Aizawa, don’t tell me... “Is he the one you have locked away? The one you don’t count as being ‘among your number?’”

Two sighed again.

“Are you doing that instead of swearing?” asked Todoroki. “The sighing, I mean.”

“I told you to stop comparing me to the explosion brat! I—” Two tsked, then frowned. “Something’s not right.”

“What is it?”

“This isn’t a safe memory, just a quick one. One should have been here to pick you up by now.”

“What do you mean, it isn’t safe?” asked Iida, before Aizawa could. “No matter how immersed we are here, it is only a memory, isn’t it?”

“You did hear the part where he’s breaking in, didn’t you? And the part where we’re all real people? Are those glasses just for show?”

“The real All for One is trying to break into Midoriya’s mind,” said Aizawa.

“W-wait,” said Uraraka, “but… Izuku… That wouldn’t mean that the commission was right…”

“Of course not. Nine would probably cut off all his limbs before betraying his friends. Even if I don’t agree with him, and think he shouldn’t… I can still see that. But where is One?”

“Why are you telling us this?” asked Aizawa. “You’ve told us why the others didn’t. But you have no reason to say anything, yourself, do you?”

Two turned slightly, to gaze at Aizawa out of the corner of his eye.

“As long as we’re waiting, I might as well collect as much information as possible, right?”

“It’s insurance,” said Two, finally. “It’s hard to see how this will turn out. Eight wants to take Nine out of the country, but even if that works, All for One will still be here. Someone else needs at least part of the story.” He turned more fully to face Aizawa, lips pressed tight against his teeth. “You have to understand. I want Nine to… do well. I don’t want this on him. He’s a kid. So are you.” He looked at the students, then back at Aizawa. “You’re all kids. If I can get someone else to take care of this for him, while he and Eight are somewhere safe…”

“All for One is in Tartarus,” said Aizawa.

“You think something like that’s going to stop him? I’m not entirely sure death would stop him. It didn’t stop us, and he’s at least as stubborn.”

Well, wasn’t this an impossibly heavy weight to set on Aizawa’s shoulders.

“I have no sympathy, you lazy caterpillar lookalike. You’re an adult, aren’t you? Get help if you can’t do it yourself. If I find out you pushed it onto children, I’ll kill you.”

“Wow, he’s secretly soft, too, just like Bakugo,” said Todoroki. “Are you sure you’re not related.”

“There is legitimately something wrong with you. Do you—”

.

The hinges of the vault snapped, and the door crumpled outward. Another well-placed kick sent the door tumbling outward with a crash.

Shaking his hand, All for One stepped into the mindscape and smiled.

“Well,” he said, dragging his gaze over the assembled One for All users, his sworn enemies and the closest thing he had to family, “isn’t this a lovely little reunion?”

[sexysilverstrider]

Icy Jealousy (Kaelumi)

  Kaeya was never much of a jealous person.

  He had his own ideals to chase. His own agendas to fulfil. He had no time to indulge in such trivial matters. He may have a fling every now and then, but all that would be snipped away in a blink of an eye before any of his playful encounters could even take a glance at his guarded heart.

  Kaeya had no need to be worried about such mindless—laughable, even—matters.

  That was…until she came into his life.

----------

  At first it was her encounter with the mysterious bard. Venti was ever so joyful, ever so clingy. While looking as innocent as any child, Kaeya would be a fool to think the bard was anything of the sort. Clearly there was something more when he looked at him, and oftentimes Kaeya wanted to subtly interrogate the youthful boy. Who knows? Maybe the many information Venti held might be of some use to his grand agenda.

  Well, that was the initial plan.

  “Lumine!”

  To see Venti clinging to Lumine’s arm, Kaeya soon realized that he wished to interrogate the bard for an entirely different reason.

  Shock jumped her shoulders at the playful embrace on her right arm. “Geez, Venti!” Her head turned to the side, lips pulling a pout to see him. “Don’t startle me. If I was any more surprised, I might accidentally punch you as a reaction.”

  Her mild threat didn’t even faze him. “Ehee,” he chuckled, smile as guiltless as his response. “Sorry, Lumine.” His slid a few steps back, though arms now wrapped around her right arm. “Care to join me for a drink? I heard Diluc had some really great wine brought in today?”

  Her pout softened to a smile. A sigh came out next. “If you’re paying.”

  “I got that covered!” Clearly, he did not.

  Nevertheless, arm in arm, they walked towards their destination. Laughter and conversation bubbled between them as they shared stories of her journeys and his travels.

  Kaeya only watched from a few steps afar, silent and analytical.

  The smirk he wore bore such ill will. Maybe he should pay a visit to the tavern today.

----------

  Sometimes, Kaeya had the pleasure of joining her in her little adventures. Whenever she set foot in Mondstadt, Lumine never missed the chance of paying a visit to the knights of Favonius. Kaeya—much to his silent glee—was one of them. The delight only heightened when he managed to squeeze time in his busy schedule to accompany her during commission work.

  In truth, he either changed his knightly tasks to ‘Team Up with Lumine’ or ignore his work assignments entirely.

  He could apologize to Jean later.

  During their travels, Kaeya got to a side of Lumine he rarely saw back in Mondstadt. He saw how fearless, how vigorous, and at times how reckless even to see her in action. Her plans were oftentimes near to perfection. Her movements were like wind itself, rising and soaring as she threw her enemies afar. The more he looked at her, the more he observed her, Kaeya knew he was walking on dangerous territory to regard her in such a…vulnerable way.

  He also knew that he wasn’t alone in this matter.

  “Lumine.”

  His calm voice caught her attention. Dissolving her sword back to nonexistence, she turned her heel. “Yes, Razor?” Her smile beamed upon the rugged boy. Kaeya only stood next to her, a single eyebrow raised in silent curiosity.

  Razor’s whole focus was on Lumine only. “Your hand.” Without hesitation, he held her left wrist. “Hurt.” Carefully he turned her hand, revealing a small gash on her palm.

  As adrenaline slowly eased off from her, realization finally acknowledged the numbing pain. “Oh—ah!” One eye closed as she flinched. A chuckle slipped out like a child in trouble, Lumine scratched the side of her neck with her other hand. “I didn’t realize tha—”

  Slurp.

  Not only the traveler, but shock was clear as day in the knight-captain’s eye.

  The pain was brief, but amber eyes were round as they could be due to a different kind of reaction. “R-Razor—?!” A squeak peeped as she felt his tongue on her palm again. The blood on her skin was slowly being licked away, the pressure stinging her quite a bit but warming her face most definitely.

  “I clean.” Razor merely stated, head lowered to her hand and tongue once again ready to wipe the blood clean.

  …That was…until he felt her hand being snatched away from him.

  Crimson eyes quickly glared at the man next to her.

  Kaeya didn’t say a word, yet a smile was evident, its curve so laced with malice and indignation. A growl echoed in the barren battlefield; he couldn’t tell whether the sound came from the boy or himself.

----------

  The months where he hadn’t seen Lumine were apparently the worse.

  Kaeya had bid his farewells. He had wished her journey a safe one. He had other duties to attend too. And she clearly had her brother to find. He knew this would be a short-lived rela—friendship, and Kaeya had set it clear in his mind that she wouldn’t stay with hi—in Mondstadt—for long.  

  It seemed his heart didn’t get the memo.

  Thankfully, after nearly 6 months of not seeing her, Lumine actually came back. She informed Jean that she dropped by for a visit, saying even that she missed Monndstadt and its people after months of being away.

  When Kaeya heard of it, it truly made his heart flutter.

  When he saw her new companion, however, it truly made his heart burn.

  Zhongli only watched silently as Venti and Lumine shared stories. Happiness bloomed within the ex-archon to see his old friend. Venti was still as witty, was still as cunning, and he found it amusing that the now bard immediately hid behind Lumine the moment they reunited.

  “Just making sure.” A single chuckle held being thinned lips as he brought the scene to his mind. Golden eyes then spotted some strands of Lumine’s hair dangling by the side of her face. They swayed and brushed across her left ear, catching his attention like a cat to a ball of yarn.

  Without a word, Zhongli casually slipped through those beautiful locks with his fingers and gently tucked them behind her ear.

  The simple action surely made Lumine flinch. Quickly she looked to the side, amber eyes wide and face quite warm from the gentle contact.

  Upon seeing what he assumed was a mistake, Zhongli quickly let out a short cough. “Apologies, Lumine.” He placed his cup down onto the table. “Your hair is just simply mesmerizing, I couldn’t help myself.” Honesty was his virtue, and the Geo archon simply gifted the surprised traveler a warm smile.

  Her face felt hotter, it seemed. “It’s okay, Zhongli.” She laughed it off, one hand on her cheek. “I just felt ticklish is all.” The conversation was then cut short to Venti’s sly chuckle, bringing both human and makeshift human back to the reality that they were not alone. Zhongli merely continued indulging in his tea, while Lumine rolled her eyes and teased the bard with many comebacks that she learned from her journey.

  While the scene played out like rainbows and sunshine, the even happening in the bar was anything but.

  “Oi,” Diluc interjected, “can you stop trying to shatter my glass? If you wanted some frozen popsicles, go to the dessert stall down the street.” His tongue clicked as crimson eyes glared at the man sitting across him.

  Azure gaze, cold and icy like the element, kept its focus on the trio.

  “Ah,” Kaeya simply, finally, responded. Fingers released the glass he had clutched. Flakes of ice and snow now enveloped the clear glassware, almost revealing cracks as the liquor inside of it had turned to solid ice.

  He turned to face the pyro user. His lips formed a smile, the corners swirled to a sinister curve that rivalled the spine-chilling element on his fingertips. “Sorry, dear Diluc.” He straightened his back, smile still forced in its place. “Would you be so kind as to warm my drink up?”

  “I’d rather burn you to the ground.”

  Her laughter echoed the second Diluc gave his blunt remark. Her laughter alone was enough to snatch every single attention Kaeya had.

  Her laughter alone was enough to ignite a monstrous flame within his chest.

  “Kaeya!” Anger fumed when Diluc saw the plane of ice on the bar. It seemed that the knight-captain truly wanted to be turned to ashes.

----------

  After a week of contemplating—both his heart and his mind—Kaeya decided to do the one thing that would surely piss Jean off.

  In truth, he actually enjoyed traveling with Lumine and her companions. The adventure took his mind off things. The countless dangerous encounters lit a fire within him. While the Knights of Favonius had special training for those with visions, nothing beat an actual face-to-face against inhuman enemies in order to test his elemental strengths and skills. It truly helped that Kaeya got to see Lumine in action as well, more so than he usually did in the past.

  She was still the same. Reckless but calculating. Gentle but rough. It seemed she had obtained the Geo elemental as well, much to his silent surprise. While Lisa did inform him before that the traveler did not possess a vision, to see her wield both Anemo and Geo further piqued his curiosity and interest about her.

  Well, he knew the secret to her power was only half of his genuine interest. The other half was…something Kaeya still chose not to disclose, be it to her or himself.

  After nearly weeks of camping, they finally decided to rest in Wangshu Inn. It seemed like a giant treehouse, Kaeya mentally noted, and he was widely impressed at how sturdy the structure was despite the amount of people and chaos inside it. Zhongli suggested they rested here for a couple of nights while they restock on some resources and weapons. And although Lumine and Paimon agreed to it, Kaeya soon realized that the ones doing the payment was Lumine herself.

  Like a gentleman, Kaeya paid for his room, of course—and Razor’s too since he warmed up to the young wolf boy during their journey.

  Night dawned upon them, and it was the most beautiful Kaeya had ever seen. Granted, Mondstadt was glorious with its lights and grandeur, but nothing could compare to the beauty nature had exposed before them. The gleaming line of lit lanterns truly complimented the sky above. And for once in his life, he truly felt at peace.

  That was…until azure eye spotted the target of his affections talking to someone new.

  “How do you like your almond tofu?” Lumine asked, head tilted slightly as she looked at the quiet adepti. Xiao merely nodded, gaze on his food and attention trying its best to focus on the delicacy.

  Her laugh was slowly breaking his concentration, however.

  “Hmm…” Slowly he swallowed, then huffed out single sigh. The distance between them wasn’t as far, but it wasn’t as close either. As Lumine rested her arms against the wooden rail of the balcony, Xiao only stood perfectly still with the warm plate still in his hand. He was highly aware of the small distance between them, and this also made him aware of the warmth that slowly seeped into his skin.

  He still refused to move from his single spot.

  “Good…” Whether the answer was for the food or the moment they were having, neither could tell.

  As the two enjoyed their peaceful night, one lone man stood from afar, his breathing exhaled in low specks of a chilly breeze.

----------

  Finally, after 2 months of travelling, they finally arrived in Liyue. The place was gorgeous, Kaeya couldn’t lie. It seemed that the city was Zhongli’s birthplace—"or something like that,” as explained by Venti. The reason of them coming back to the land was because Zhongli had to attend to his own work matter.

  Kaeya wanted to comment on it, but he decided to bite his tongue when he was reminded that he too somewhat shirked his duties to be closer to Lumine.

  He was happy that he finally got to spend time with her. Like a holiday of sorts. While Paimon of course oftentimes clung to her like glue, Kaeya still managed to trick the floating creature with some delicious delicacies in any nearby restaurant. Even Razor couldn’t be seen, as Lumine informed Kaeya that the wolf boy preferred the wild environment, so he made camp in an area not too far from the city so he could come as soon as possible when she calls for him.

  Yes. It truly was the perfect moment for Kaeya to get closer to Lumine.

  …Or so he thought.

  “Ojou-chaaan,” Her name lulled in a singsong tune, she felt her shoulders being firmly hugged by someone whom brought a huge sigh off her chest.

  “Now, now.” Faking an offended expression, Childe placed one hand on his chest. “I’m only here to fight my favourite comrade!”

  Slap. Without haste, she slapped his hands away from her. “I’m busy, Childe.”

  “Oh?” He didn’t take offense at all. “You don’t look busy.” He walked beside her. The more she picked up the pace, the more he followed it.

  Deciding that running would only encourage the harbinger even more, Lumine finally slowed down. She knew he was a very, very persistent man. So with another sigh leaving her lips, she shot a glare at him.

  His eerie smile became a lovely match.

  “I am busy.” Amber eyes looked at the list in her right hand. “I’m searching for stuff and things to buy before we head out. Unlike you—” Another glare was given.”—who seem like he has a lot of free time in the world, I need to keep on moving to complete my mission.”

  The ‘mission’ she firmly stated was something they both knew was a delicate topic, so Childe decided go against asking it further.

  Instead, he still made it worse. “Oh? I’m always busy, ojou-chan.” Lower lip pulled to a playful pout. The back of his hand dramatically moved to his forehead. “Can’t you see how tired I am? I am absolutely fatigued by the amount of work my stupid co-workers have put me through.”

  “If you’re tired, then why the stars do you insist on battling with me today?”

  Lumine honestly expected his playful banter. She had prepared a retort. Her mind had generated words that would surely put him into a stupor.

  What she didn’t expect was her left arm to be pulled and her body being turned to the side.

  Amber eyes were wide. Everything happened so fast as the traveler then felt her chin being tipped upwards from a single finger.

  “Because…” A voice, lulled so close and so deep, brushed her pink lips. “Battling with you is never tiring.” Cobalt blue eyes were as striking as the deepest oceans. “Every time I see you…” His gaze lingered. His voice lowered. “I have this urge to just mess—” His right hand that held her left arm moved down… “—you—” And down… “—up…” Palm pressed firmly against the side of her waist—

  Shing!

  Pupils shot to the side the moment he felt a cold breeze. Instincts kicking in fast, Childe immediately released his hold on her and slid a few steps back. In a flash, he summoned his water blades, expression masked to one of annoyance. Luckily, the ice shard—he soon realized—missed him by a hair’s breadth. The back of his hand still felt the chill, and this only made him tighten his hold.

  In truth, Lumine was ready to summon her own wind element to whoosh the fatui away. As hot as her face felt right now, it seemed that shock still kept hold of her heart and mind as she felt her body being pulled yet again.

  “Oh dear, I’m sorry I’m late, Lumine.” She recognized that voice anywhere.

  One hand around her shoulders, Kaeya graced the harbinger before him with the cruellest, most sinister smile one had ever seen. Though sword not in sight in fear that he might cause enough attention than he already had, Kaeya still stretched his left hand forward. Tiny sparks of ice danced across his fingertips, spiralling small swirls towards his target.

  Fear was never present in Childe’s eyes.

  “Ojou-chan,” he called for her, voice light with poison, “it seems you have something stuck on you. Need me to take care of it?” While his grand scheme was to have a duel with her, Childe honestly didn’t mind a warm-up. White teeth gleamed under the sun’s rays. Gaze never torn from the traveler’s stunned face.

  He was mocking her; Kaeya knew this. “Oya, oya.” A single laugh chilled the Liyue air. “Underestimating me, aren’t you? That’s fine.” While true, his past self did choose to not summon his sword, “I always love to see my enemies being horribly humiliated.” his present self now had other plans.

  The sword breezed and solidified into his hands in a blink. To see the tip of a sharp weapon right in front of him, it only infuriated and excited Childe even further. A gust of ice and a burst of water formed around them, quickly and surely attracting an audience that feared for the sudden animosity.

  Both were ready to fight. Both were ready to spill blood.

  “That—”

  Both…

  “—is enough!”

  …were now being blown away straight to a nearby lake by a powerful tornado.

----------

  It had almost been a year since Lumine’s presence. Almost a year since she changed the lives of many. Her mission was still ongoing. The search for her brother was still top priority on her list. But in her many adventures, her presence did bring joy and hope some thought they had lost forever.

  “Diluc! One more please!”

  It seemed that he was part of the ‘some’, after all.

  “Isn’t this your third glass?” A single eyebrow raised. He watched as she giggled shyly, one finger pushing the strand of blonde locks behind her ear.

  Cute. He understood why Kaeya of all people was struggling when it comes to her.

  “Ma-aybe,” she hiccupped, one hand then quickly cupping her mouth.

  Really cute. He understood why Kaeya had oftentimes lost his cool around her.

  Coughing once, Lumine cocked her head in pride. “It’s a party. No harm in celebrating once in a while. Besides, I still have some senses left in me.” Her smile shined as bright as the flames of his element. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she then looked around. “Hmm, where’s Kaeya?”

  If not for the many years of masking his emotions so perfectly, Diluc would raise his eyebrows in surprise. “Don’t know,” he bluntly replied, hands continued to wipe and clean a wineglass.

  Crimson eyes observed as her mouth pulled a frown.

  “He was here a minute ago…” She seemed sullen? Crestfallen? Disappointed? The change of tone in her voice evoked a glint of surprise in his eyes. While Kaeya was a master of faking his emotions as he was a master of hiding his, Diluc knew his bro—the annoying cavalry captain lately had a hard time keeping his feelings in check when Lumine becomes the matter. As surprising as it was at first, Diluc soon registered the fact that there was another person—other than him—that could shake the cryo user.

  This was getting more and more amusing, he thought.

  “The fool might be dead in the upstairs balcony.”

  The statement caught her attention. “Oh?” The pep in her voice was back. Whether it was from the alcohol or the excitement itself, it was clear that Lumine didn’t bother to hide her glee. She beamed as Diluc resumed his cleaning, ignoring her altogether as a sign that he wasn’t going to say any further.

  That was enough for her. “Thank you, Diluc!” Smile as bright as the sun, she quickly made way to the balcony on the second floor.

  As he watched her disappear into the crowd, a simple twitch of his lips curled upwards.

----------

  Kaeya always loved watching the stars and moon.

  It was peaceful. Breath-taking. Calming. He was able to register his thoughts and recollect his mind every time he was alone with the twinkling lights. The wineglass in his hand was brought up, swirled gently before he sipped the final contents of his drink.

  Through the haze of his intoxication, his mind wandered to her.

  “Heh…” Lips curled to a derisive smirk. How cruel, he thought, that she still invaded his mind after all these months. When Kaeya decided to come back to Mondstadt due to knightly matters, he assumed that maybe, just maybe, a few more months of avoiding her would be the key to finally take all of this as some harmless crush.

  Alas, as the months rolled by without him being able to see her, it turns out it wasn’t harmless nor a crush.

  His arms leaned heavily against the rails of the balcony. And now that she came back to celebrate Jean’s achievements—and to thank her for all she had done—Kaeya finally had a chance to talk to Lumine. He finally had the chance to see her. He finally had the opportunity to catch up with her without the noisy company of others.

  He honestly didn’t mind Paimon. He did however mind a lot about her choice of human companions.

  He should treat her to lunch and catch up. But no. Instead, he made her do a taxing errand of preparing the feast for the party, while he had other separate matters to attend to.

  At times like these, he truly felt like a fool.

  The party had started an hour ago, and he did compliment her for being the mastermind of the surprise party. While in truth, it was his idea, Kaeya felt it more appropriate for the Honorary Knight to take in all the glory while he basked in the shadows.

  Heh. How fitting it seemed that he never changed.

  “Kaeya?”

  Not realizing that he had his eye closed all this time, Kaeya snapped it open before turning around. “Lumine!” Shock was present on his face, but the cryo user quickly mellowed it with a perfectly curled smile. “Now, what do I have the pleasure to see Honorary Knight out here tonight?” His back leaned against the rail, wineglass already placed on the small table next to him.

  Her response wasn’t immediate. Nor was it verbal. Instead, she gave a smile, one so sincere and endearing, he almost gripped the rail tightly.

  “I was looking for you.”

  Her simple answer shook him once again. Azure eye widened in shock. Lips firmly pressed to hide the emotion that fizzled within him. “Oh ho?” he chimed, the corner of his lips curled slightly. “I didn’t know I was missed.”

  “You are.”

  Her blunt answers were getting better and better. And this truly did not fare well on his end.

  Finally, he was out of words for a short while. And it was that short while that Lumine decided to move forward and stand next to him. Pride itched at her brain to know that she was able to make the cavalry knight speechless. It seems there were many benefits to having countless banters with Paimon and Childe.

  “I mean…” However, embarrassment followed suit at the realization of her words. “I didn’t see you much at the party so…” While common sense still held her by the reins, Lumine wondered if the fast beat of her heart right now was the cause of the man next to him.

  In truth, a huge part of her hoped so.

  “I asked Diluc and he said that you might be passed out in the cold here.”

  A single chuckle burst past his lips. “How sweet that he cares.” He looked to his side, memorizing every shape of her presence. “How sweeter that you care, my dear.”

  A single eyeroll was given. “I do care, though.” Her reply once again stunned him; she was getting better at reading his emotions too. “I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with Diluc so…”

  “Ah…” He cut her off, partly in realization and the other part to silently signal her to not continue it further. It seems that he had forgotten for a brief moment that he told her of his past. Months and months of travelling together seems to make a person’s lips looser. It was clear that he trusted her, as much as his heart could dangerously handle. And in turn, Kaeya gave her the reason to trust him.

  Which was also a much worse issue, considering that his role and lies still hang heavily around his neck.

  The smile on his face mellowed. Slowly he turned around, head cocked upwards to gaze at the night sky. “Pretty night, isn’t it?”

  She turned around too, though head tilted in his direction. A frown graced her face. Heat kissed her cheeks despite the cold breeze that caressed her body. “Kaeya—”

  “Where are you going next?”

  Roles were now in reverse as the question caught him off guard. “Sorry?”

  “Your next destination, Lumine.” Their eyes met. “Surely, you’re not going to make me hope that you might stick around longer?” The question laced with sweet toxicity, Kaeya let out another chuckle. “As happy as I am to see you back here, I know you’re on a mission to reunite with your brother.”

  His voice was soft, gentle. His expression bared a smile that strained his face.

  It hurt to watch.

  “Soon…” The reply was meek. Hands held the wooden rail. Amber eyes gazed downwards the people below. “I’ll go to Inazuma in the next 3 days.” Fingers slowly fiddled with one another. “The ship will depart on that day. So…I don’t know when I’ll be able to visit Mondstadt again…”

  Crack.

  Azure eye dulled as he ignored the pain in his chest.

  “I see.” was his only response. Slowly he nodded, mouth thinning to hold back the smile that was faltering. “Well,” One hand moved to her, wavered, hesitant, before he patted her shoulder. “I wish you all the best, Lumine.”

  Crack.

  A deep breath was taken to gulp back the cracks left in her chest.

  Hands slowly cupped together. Tightly. “Actually, I was wondering…” There was a reason she came looking for him. There was a reason she came back to Mondstadt before her next journey. One breath. Two. She closed her eyes before recollecting her thoughts that would soon slur into verbal words.

  She felt his hand pull away. She hated that.

  “I want—” With a heart that wanted to burst out of her ribcage, Lumine took the hand that was pulled away. “—you to join me!”

  Shock was the star of the show in the brilliant evening. One gawked at her as if she grew a second head. The other gasped in silence as if what she had just said was near to impossible.

  When she thought about, considering his role in Mondstadt, it might as well be.

  The grip on his left hand tightened.

  “I…” It was now or never. “I had so much fun travelling with you. It was never a dull moment.” Her head was down. “When we did all those commissions and strange requests, you always had a plan ready. When we were battling the powerful enemies, you always had my back. When I felt down and out of it, you were always there to cheer me up!” Her hands shook. “I—when we went to Dragonspine, you tried your best to find warm shelter to keep everyone warm even though fire isn’t actually your forte.” Archons, she would never forget how grateful she was to have him endure the frigid cold of such an unforgivable place.

  His hand felt warm.

  “We fought side by side all these months and I—” Couldn’t forget it. Couldn’t forget him. “I…” Anxiety kicked in the more she stuttered. Forcing another gulp, Lumine let out a sharp sigh. “Having you so close to me made me realize how much I need you.”

  Blue bangs shielded his eye.

  “Waking up and seeing you bond with Paimon and Razor and everyone else first thing in the morning made me realize how much I miss those moments.”

  Lips were slightly parted.

  “And…” She could do this. “The night that we opened up about our brothers—” She heard a sharp breath. “—that was…truly a night that I felt closest to you.” She felt her hands shake. “I like that. I love that.” There was a reason why she chose to drink more than she could handle tonight—

  “I love—”

  “Lumine.”

  Her shoulders flinched. At the same time his voice startled her, she gaped as she watched his hands slip away from her grasp. She froze as she felt those same hands cup her cheeks.

  “Lumine…”

  His voice was silky smooth, caressing her very skin that sent prickles up to the back of her neck. She blinked once. Twice. Lumine then moved her head upwards by the gentle gesture of his hands—

  Chup…

  Amber eyes were as wide as they could be.

  His lips were soft, sweet, slightly sour with a taste of tangy citrus. While bafflement had her vision open and clear, his eye was closed.

  One heartbeat. Two.

  Realization knocked him hard at the back of his head.

  Quickly his eye snapped open. Immediately he pulled back. “I—!” Hands moved from cheeks to shoulders. It seems that the wine he drank had finally took control of his body. When he listened to her request, Kaeya could only feel his body float like a cloud. When he heard her explanation, he could only feel his heart clawing right out of his throat.

  Love. When he heard that word, that one word, he couldn’t help but to succumb to the feelings he had long tried to destroy.

  He gaped at her. She gawked at him. “Ahaa…” Defeat and shame poured down on him. “Sorry, Lumine.” Now he had done it. “I had uh…too much to drink tonight.” Now he had perfectly fucked this up.

  He should leave. He should walk away. Being here with her was a mistake. Holding her by the shoulders was a mistake. Feeling her warmth, remembering the luscious shape of her lips was definitely, definitely, a mistake—

  “Gaack—!”

  Chuu!

  Words, panics, and fears dissipated like hot steam once he felt the front of his shirt being tugged, once he felt those lips he so dearly missed pressed hard against his.

  This time, her eyes were closed shut. This time his eye was wide as saucers.

  However, bafflement didn’t linger too long, as Kaeya fully registered the moment with an open heart and an open mouth.

  Quickly his eye closed. Hands now moved around her waist, tickling her in the process that Lumine actually wiggled in his embrace. Cute. The word beaming like a beacon, he pulled her flushed against his chest. Cute! Cute! His tongue found and caressed her own, tangling together until breaths became heavy in their lungs. Cute, cute, cute! With ease, Kaeya moved his hands downwards and lifted her up. It seems that the alcohol took hold of her mind too, as Lumine happily wrapped her legs around his waist as she pressed closer.

  Chu! Chuu…chup! Apart they broke for a mere second. Chuuu! Together they kissed again before either could regain proper vision. Her hands tugged and brushed through long, silky blue hair. His hands squeezed and gripped her soft, scarred thighs.

  Pop!

  If it weren’t for the fact that they needed air, they knew there would be no end to this.

  Pants, heavy and warm, stroked each other’s faces. A gaze of pure stupor was given to a face of sheer shock. Red kissed their cheeks as if the sun had grazed them. Heartbeats pumped hard and fast against flushed chests.

  One heartbeat. Two heartbeats.

  After the third beat, realization dawned on them like cold water.

  “Ah—” Both stumbled. Quickly Lumine released her grip and stood in a shaky stance. She kept hold on his shoulders, fearing that the intense moment would make her lose her posture. His hands slid upwards to her waist, his grip not longer rough yet palms pressed firmly on her body.

  They didn’t show any signs of letting each other go.

  Her head dropped. Should she apologize? Should she forgive? Should she say something to dispel this awkward situation that bloomed between them?

  But he did kiss her, though. And while Kaeya had been on her mind all these months since their journey together, never had she thought that her feelings would be requited. She felt giddy. Anxious. A whirlwind of emotions swirled inside her to know, to see, to feel, that the dashing cavalry knight would harbour such feelings for—

  “Lumine…”

  A single gulp slid down a dry throat.

  She cast a peek. Heat burned to the tips of her ears, Lumine found it wise to not say anything yet.

  She was too cute, he gushed.

  “Pushing aside our little…session, which I find absolutely amazing, by the way.” He gently pulled her closer. “I want to answer your request.”

  Her finger unintentionally squeezed his shoulders.

  “Lumine…” His voice lowered to a husky whisper, so loving, so sweet. “I would love to join you to Inazuma.” To join you anywhere.

  His answer lit up a spark of joy on her face. Quickly, finally, she brought her head upwards. “Really—?”

  Chu.

  Glee burst to shock at the feel of his lips.

  “Kaeya!” Instinctively she pulled back, pupils blown in pure embarrassment over his tease.

  Laughter echoed the bright night. While Kaeya was infamous for masking his emotions, the laugh he burst out was both genuine and filled with absolute glee.

  How mesmerized she felt to witness such beauty.

  “Geez…” Quivered lips pressed a shaky smile. Playfully jabbing his chest once, Lumine then wrapped her arms around his chest. “I have to get used to this, huh?” A sheepish mumble left her lips. Her left cheek nuzzled against his warm chest.

  A peaceful sigh left her to feel fingers tickling her back.

  “Pretty much.” Happy. “You wanted me to tag along. You pay the price, my dear.” It felt so sinful to be this happy. He nuzzled the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of windwheel aster and vanilla that he so dearly loved.

  It seems his silly jealousy was—after all—silly.

  Finally, her laughter joined his. The two relished in their embrace, making the stars and the moon their witness of the very start of their ever after.

END

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 || Previous || Next

She was now back in Gotham and it was time to start acting like it. 

The break came sooner than expected. Mari might have actually missed it if not for the text from Chloe that they are on their way. Mr. Drake locked the doors to his office from the inside to made sure nobody interrupted him unless Batman started skateboarding in the lobby (his words). She really didn’t know what to think about the young CEO. So far their interactions were limited to the brief moment of panic before meeting Luthor, followed by this brief moment when he locked the doors.

When she arrived in the cafeteria, Chloe was already waiting for her with Ethel. They took over a table in the corner and already littered it with various documents and folders.

“Um… Hi?” Mari greeted them.

“Oh, Mari-bear!” Chloe grabbed the girl by the wrist and dragged her to the table. When she was seated, several papers were put in front of her.

“So! Ethel and I read through the contract and we have good and bad news? Which first?”

“Let’s get the bad out of the way.” Mari nodded.

“You’re stuck in that job for half a year.”

“What!?”

“Don’t worry.” Ethel palaced her. “It’s not as bad as it looks. The whole deal was that you could be hired at any point of your internship for a period of six months, after which there would be a revision of your contract to either terminate it or make it more permanent.” 

“Who does that kind of thing?” The girl shouted a bit louder than necessary, but nobody paid them any mind. Alya and Lila were clearly visible at the other side of the cafeteria with a large crowd around them. 

“It’s practically never used. I mean now you have all the benefits of being Wayne Enterprises’ employee. Plus you will actually have a salary. And Sarah’s salary was nothing to scoff at.”

“But… What about school!? I know we were allowed to leave for two months, which by itself is crazy if you ask me…”

“Given that our headmaster is an idiot that bends under whoever throws money at him and our teacher should never be allowed to be in the same room as any child…” Chloe muttered in French. 

“Yeah. I get your point. But I can’t just leave school for six months!” 

“Puh-lease!” Chloe waved her hand dismissively. “We both know you could’ve graduated in the middle of last year if that Chienne and Connard allowed you. And you would have the perfect scores. Hey! I’m sure you can sit SATs in Gotham while you work here.” 

“And my commissions?” She looked at the blonde. “Marigold Désign et Création is only starting to get some popularity. I can’t just close the store! Oh no! What about my Flower Shop in Paris? The girl I hired was supposed to work there only for like… three months best! I can’t just suddenly… Oh no! You know Sang hates being away from me! And what if Bleue outgrows her pot? And don’t get me started on Rouge! He is…’

Mari suddenly felt two hands on her shoulders. “Goldie! You’re spiraling again.” Chloe stared in her eyes. “And your eyes are showing.” 

That finally calmed Mari. She usually tried to suppress her natural look in favor of how she used to appear. Her iridescent green eyes were kept blue and dark-blue hair muted to the point it seemed black. Plus her skin was not green unless she was using her powers. She was not sure where that skill came from and she was ninety percent certain her mother couldn’t just mute her green skin and fiery red hair. Still, she was glad that she did not have to look like an Akuma 24/7. 

“Thanks, Queeny. I’d probably have a breakdown if not for you.”

“You have a Flower Shop in Paris?” Ethel asked curiously.

“My… It used to be a bakery before I inherited it. Since I like plants more than bread, I turned it into my own greenhouse. I used to only have a small garden on the rooftop, but then I kinda… filled every room with plants.” Mari suddenly blushed.

“Whoa. You sure do love plants. Are you sure you’re not related to Poison Ivy?”

Chloe half-expected Mari to start trying to deny it or babble. 

“And what would make you think that?” The girl joked instead. “Just because my plants don’t wither at my touch, I am related to a villain?” It might have come harsher than she wanted, but her bright smile and pearly voice made it clear that she had no hard feelings. 

Ethel laughed. “True. I’m sorry about the commissions and the store. I really wish there was something WE could do, but our hands are tied.”

“How am I supposed to be a personal assistant? I have like zero experience or even theoretical knowledge!”

Ethel opened another folder and read something. “Well, you were class representative, ran your own small business, kept up with school work, met with clients, and babysat several kids. That’s pretty much what you have to do now. Just make sure that the baby is doing things on time and organize his time.”

“Ha ha ha.” Chloe deadpanned. “Why not ask Nathalie? She liked you well enough.”

“I can’t just call her and ask her to teach me!” Mari protested. “I mean she must be very busy!”

“We can go find the disaster boy. He can definitely convince her.”

“I can’t just use Adrien like that! And besides, we don’t need to look.” She pointed at where the Blond boy sat next to Lila. He was clearly very uncomfortable with his situation, but they both knew that he couldn’t go against his father’s orders. Apparently, ‘Lila was good for business’. 

“Then we can go now. Thank you, Ethel.” Chloe said as she grabbed Mari and started to drag her toward the group.

“Stop it! Queenie! You know…” 

“Hush! I will deal with the idiots if they try anything.” The blonde silenced all protests.

The two approached the group just as Lila was finishing a ridiculous tale about how she was on good terms with the bat-family. Alya was of course recording the whole thing and streaming live. When the class spotted girls approaching, Kim and Ivan quickly turned into bodyguards blocking them from joining. 

“What do you two want this time?” Sabrina asked with venom.

“Like I would lower myself to dealing with the common rabble. I came to speak with the only person here who doesn’t have a negative number of brain cells, so be kind enough to let us pass. Or just pry Adrien from Lila and we will leave you to your fantasy world.” Chloe stared down at her former follower (they were never really friends).

“Nobody asked you!” Rose shouted. 

“Sabrina did.” Mari pointed out. She was not sure why, but she felt much more confident in her dealing with the class now that they were in Gotham. Maybe it was because they were now on her own turf, maybe because there was no Akuma risk, or maybe she was just done. 

“Shut up you bully!” Alix shouted. “Adrien doesn’t want to go with you anywhere!”

Over half of the WE employees disperse, not wanting to be pulled into the drama. The ones that stayed were just looking between the two groups. 

“Actually,” Adrien started, surprising everyone, Lila included. Why was her boy talking? She didn’t order him to talk. “I’m curious about what they want. The break is almost over anyway so we should probably get going back to work.” He said diplomatically. 

“Whatever!” Alya put her phone down. 

When the class and the spectators dispersed, Adrien sighed in relief. “Kwami I hope Gerard gets here soon. He usually tries to at least limit the Liar somewhat. Then again, he won’t be coming to WE…”

“It’s a tall building. I’m sure that we could make it look like an accident.” Chloe grinned.

“We are not killing her!” Mari protested.

“Spoilsport.” The Blonde deadpanned. 

“Anyway, is that a social call or do we have some situation? Please tell me it’s not an Akuma.”

“Not that I know of.” Mari quickly checked her phone, but so far no messages. 

“Mari here got hired.” Chloe did not bother with subtlety.

“Congratulation!” The boy beamed. “I knew you would do great here. We should go to celebrate on Friday!”

“Except I have no idea how to be a personal assistant.” Mari moaned.

“Oh! That’s no problem. Let me just call Nathalie.” Before the girl could protest Adrien already had his phone out and dialed his Father’s PA. “Nathalie?” He asked when the face appeared on the screen.

“Adrien. I’m sorry but your father is not here. He left Paris and won’t be returning for some time. He will be supervising the acquisition of new resources in China.” She informed him.

“Oh. That’s no problem. I actually wanted to speak to you.” He smiled brightly.

“Huh?” She asked surprised.

“My friend Marinette found herself in a peculiar situation of being hired as a personal assistant. Would you mind giving her some pointers?”

“Sure. Please forward her my personal number so she can call me in an hour. I will be free by then.”

“Thank you, Nathalie. You’re the best.” He waved the woman goodbye and hanged up. “See? No problem at all.” 

“Um… Okay… Thank you so much!” She hugged him tightly. 

“Sure. That’s what friends are for. What about the Friday celebration?”

“Well, I can give you all a Marinette tour through Gotham…” Her smile grew a little mischievous “Or you can get Marigold style trip.” They all laughed before scrambling to do their respective works.

Mari got into the elevator and pressed the top-floor button. Slowly, the doors closed and it went up. When she arrived, she looked around to check if anyone was looking for her before walking to her desk. Out of nowhere, a blade pressed itself to her neck.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” A low voice asked from her right, slightly to her back. Immediately, she tensed.

“I work here if you must know. Now I apologize for the delay if you needed something, but I was trying to sort out a certain problem. Do you have an appointment with Mr. Drake?”

“Tt. I’m not in a mood for games.” 

She smiled slightly. Acting faster than would be expected, she grabbed the blade in a monkey grip and pushed it away. The attacker then tried to swing it at her, but she managed to side-step. Doing a quick lunge she managed to punch his hand and make the blade move to the side while walking into the guard. She delivered a strong punch to his face, followed by a low-kick to the back of his knee, forcing him on one knee. The daze caused him to loosen the grip he had on the sword. Mari kneeled on his legs, pinning him down and at the same time stole the sword and threw it away. Before he even had a chance to explain anything, she delivered another punch to his head, making the boy see stars before everything turned black. 

She gathered herself and walked to the sword. It was rather simple ninjato that she stored under her desk. There was a tablet with the WE logo on it that she promised herself to check later. The intercom had at least two dozen buttons. They were all labeled with some shortcuts she did not understand, so instead, she picked the security number from her WE employee handbook and called. 

“Um… Hello?”

“Hello. What’s the problem miss?”

“Yes. My name’s Marinette. I’m the new PA to Mr. Drake. When I returned from break some boy attacked me with a ninajto. I managed to knock him out, but I would appreciate if someone came here to…” She didn’t get to finish because a burst of loud laughter came from the other side. She stayed silent for a few moments, baffled at the reaction. Finally, she had enough. “Good to know the fact that someone almost chopped me with a Ninjato is funny to you, sir, but personally I do not find the situation laughable and I would appreciate if you showed at least some concern over the terrible breach of security that is firstly bringing the sword to the building and secondly trying to kill an employee!” She screamed loud enough to make her cup of (now cold) coffee shake. Only now she realized that her hands were trembling. 

“Um… of course, madame. I will be sending someone up right away… madame.” He hanged up. She still heard that he was on the verge of laughing.

Mari collapse into her chair and stared angrily at the boy on the floor. She was afraid to walk to him. She was definitely getting some plants here tomorrow. That would make her feel safer. Nervously, she started to design. She didn’t even notice that she was using the boy that attacked her as the base. 

After a few minutes, the doors of the elevator opened and two guys in suits walked in. As soon as they saw the unconscious boy they broke into a fit of laugher. Mari stared at them before recognizing one of them as Grayson, who was giving them the tour earlier. 

“Oh! My! God! She actually knocked Demon Spawn unconscious!” The other one said through tears. Mari decided she didn’t like him either. They were supposed to be helping her, not laughing more. 

“Excusez-Moi! I was attacked here! During the tour, I was led to believe this is a respected company,” she made a jab at Grayson, who only laughed more. “In respected companies employees are not attacked with a sword when they come back from the break. So can someone explain to me what the actual fuck?!” She swore. 

“This is gold. I’m calling B. Wait! I need a picture or he won’t believe me!” The not-Grayson kept rambling, completely ignoring Mari. Angry, she picked a pencil from her desk. Taking a few seconds to aim, she threw it. The impromptu projectile sailed through the air until it hit the elevator button, making the doors open. This finally got their attention, especially since the pencil passed not-Grayson by an inch from his ear.

“What the…?” He was interrupted when the girl stormed past him and entered the elevator. She was now holding the ninjato through a tissue. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To HR. Maybe they will help me.” She answered simply and sent them a glare. “It’s clear that you two dumbasses aren’t doing anything.”

Grayson held the button, stopping the doors from closing “Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be French?” Dick asked, confused by her strong Gothamite accent that showed itself.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping?!” She shouted at him. 

“Ugh… My head…” A groan came from the floor.

“Aww… I didn’t get any pictures.” Not-Grayson grumbled.

“Tt. Shut up, Todd.”

“How is the view from down there Demon Spawn?”

“I don’t have time for games. There’s some intruder on this floor. She claimed to be Drake’s personal Assistant, but we all met Sarah.”

“Um… Baby D, did no one inform you about the french class coming for an internship starting today?”

There was suddenly a glimmer of realization in the boy’s eyes. “Oh…”

“Oh?” Mari screamed. “that’s all you have to say?!” 

Her would-be attacker jumped at the sound of her angry voice. When their eyes met, the two had a staring contest. It continued for a moment, neither wanting to leave it be. Dick and Jason observed with amazement how that little girl was able to rival Damian’s glare and not wither immediately as most would.

“While I enjoy seeing the two of you fight for dominance, can someone explain to me what exactly happened?” Todd finally broke the silence. Mari immediately turned her eyes at him. He briefly noted that her blue eyes had a green tint in them that he did not notice before. 

“What happened is like I said. I after I returned from break that imbécile attacked me with the sword. I had some self-defense classes, so I managed to disarm him.”

“Some? You had ‘some’ self-defense classes and you disarmed Demons Spawn?”

“Okay, I’ve been practicing since I was five. Happy? It doesn’t change the fact that he attacked me!”

“You’re the one that attacked me. I was merely ensuring you were no threat.” Damian tried to argue.

“By pressing a sword to my neck?” She asked/shouted. “Please! This is Gotham.”

“She has a point.” Dick decided to intervene. “Okay. We will make sure that Damian won’t bother you anymore… and maybe add some bonus to your next paycheck for the trouble he caused. Our father will definitely hear about this.”

“Your father…?”

“Bruce Wayne.” 

“Oh… Fine. But I’ll be keeping the ninjato for now.” She said in no-arguing tone. It was clear that Damian wanted to argue, but his brothers pushed him into the elevator while Mari walked to her desk. She put the sword under the desk and mentally added some hooks to her shopping list. If that rich idiot thought he would get away with attacking her with a sword, he was sorely mistaken. 

The tablet turned out to have a complete calendar with all planned meetings, a ready to-do list, and access to inter-department chatrooms. There were more apps that she decided to look up later. For now, she opened Mr. Drake’s schedule. He had quite a lot of office hours, but she also noticed that there was a press conference set on Friday, several meetings throughout the week, and a few other stuff. Definitely much cleaner than Adrien’s schedule that she already knew by heart.

As the hour was mostly up, she knocked on the office doors to see if her boss needed something done. He shouted a barely-audible ‘busy’ and she did not try to intrude. Probably some important stuff. She pulled her phone and called Nathalie’s number that Adrien sent her earlier. 

“Hello, Marinette.” The woman greeted her. 

The next several hours were spent on the crash course about everything that being Personal Assistant boiled down to. Ethel was right. Her work as Class Rep, babysitter, and the business owner gave her quite a few necessary skills. What nobody mentioned (because nobody knew) was that her obsessive Adrien stalking also came in very handy. Most of what she practiced with Nathalie was about dealing with people and applying her skills in the new job. By the time her work was ‘over’, she had a bit more confidence. Mari was still panicked over the amount of responsibility that befallen her and the additional work and reading that she would have to do after hours. It was a pure blessing that this day was empty. Nathalie also gave her an incredible amount of pointers about how to deal with situations when the Boss is absent most of the day. She could guess that Gabriel kept dumping more work on the poor woman as he locked himself away to design. The last thing before she entered the elevator was to pull out the drawers in her desk and hide the ninjato behind them. It fit perfectly and the drawers didn’t seem that out of place. She suspected the boy would try to take it back when she was gone.

As she was leaving the elevator to meet with her class, she spotted Chloe talking lively with Ethel. Madame Bustier came through the main entrance. Once the class gathered in one place, she gave some speech about how proud she was of them and thanked Lila for the opportunity. Mari used that time to check on the class. Some looked quite happy, others had sour moods. Adrian managed to sneak away from Lila and was hiding behind the girls.

Just as they turned to leave, the front doors burst open and several guys (and one woman) in green suits with purple question marks walked inside, followed by a man in a similar suit. He carried a cane with a question mark on top and a green bowler hat with a single question mark in the center. Mari resisted the urge to gag. The fashion disaster that was Riddler entered the house. Seriously! Who mixes deep green with neon purple? And not to even mention the Hawaiian shirt she could spot under his suit. Whoever dressed that guy deserved to be shot. And it had to be a custom job, because what store would dare to sell such monstrosity!? She also noted that people got on the ground so she did the same. Her senses tried to reach to nearest plants for some comfort, but all of them were fake. Why does no one keep real plants in this building? Then again, Mr. Drake had and they were almost dead.

“Well, hello Wayne Enterprises!” He greeted them. “Riddle me this: It belongs to you, but other people use it more than you do. What is it?”

“Name,” they heard a voice say from the back.

“Yes.” Riddler seethed. “And I really don’t like it when someone uses mine in their ridiculous stories. Now, which of you can tell me where I can find Lila Rossi?

NEXT

[thinking1bee]

Rainbow Part 2

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Lena Luthor x Reader

Tags: Fluff, Humor, Just Cuteness All Around 

Working for Lena was great, amazing in fact! Though you admired Lena for her work ethic and genuine friendly attitude, you always wondered how someone as kind as she, could result from a family so vile. It didn’t make sense to you. But you spent less time wondering about her family’s legacy, and more about her as a person. Lena was so strong, her resilience to the hate people gave her because of who she is, made your heart flutter in a way you haven’t felt before. You never had the pleasure to interact with her before she found you with the little boy. You’d only heard rumors and whispers of how she acted. But now that you work for her, you see, now, that others opinions don't do her justice. Lena Luthor deserved so much more.

After several weeks of working for her, she asked you to commission a mural in Supergirl’s honor. For what you could see, Lena was in the process of buying abandoned and foreclosed properties to refurbish them and offer them for philanthropy. A part of that project was to create a mural, just a way to say thank you to Supergirl for everything that she’s done for National City. To have a resident superhero was great. Seeing her insignia gave people hope. ‘Stronger Together’ is what it meant, so that’s the emphasis you were going to put into the painting. When Lena gave you creative freedom, you already had the painting in mind, it taking shape with a will of its own. You were going to paint Supergirl mid flight, with one arm outstretched and one leg bent, her red cape fluttering in the wind. It was already detailed enough but you were going to put special prominence on her insignia, her facial features, and draw ‘stronger together’ in big red lettering with a gold outline below her regal form.

The next day, you got to work, already dressed in your painting flannel and jeans. Your supplies surrounded you, a mess to some people, but to you, it was your own personal paradise. The smell of acrylic was soothing to you, and every stroke of your brush was artistic therapy. By the time Lena came over to check on you, you already had a basic outline done using black paint and a thinner brush. This stage was always the most depressing to you because, right now, it didn’t look like much, but it was a wall of opportunity, a blank slate, a chance to turn something mundane into something truly spectacular.

“How’s it going?” Lena asked you as she got closer and you couldn’t help your smile. She was truly amazing, and you couldn’t say it enough.

You saw that she had burgers for you, and you smiled, sticking your brush into your hair so you wouldn’t lose it.

“I promise it’ll be awesome! I’ll have more for you by then end of the day.”

Lena smiled sweetly at you, admiring your enthusiasm. *** Lena couldn’t get you out of her mind. Every waking moment of her life was filled with thoughts of you. How were you doing? Were you okay…? Were you single?

She was still trying to play it cool and not seem utterly obsessed. That would be so creepy. She just wanted to spend more time with you. The idea that maybe you hadn’t eaten in a while flitted across her brain and she latched on to it, using any excuse to see you. So, when Lena saw you, with your food in tow, her heart flipped in her chest.

Watching the sunshine on you and highlight your hair was breathtaking. She watched you work, nimble and skilled fingers moving the brush with such grace that a ballerina would be jealous of. This was her favorite part of her day: watching you work. The air of serenity that surrounded you like an aura was beautiful. You were at your most tranquil when you painted. Lena could see the artwork come alive through your eyes and it was then that she realized that she was in love with you.

Lena squared her shoulders and frowned. It was one thing to experience love at first sight, but to be in love? That was ridiculous. Luthors can’t love. They don’t have it in their DNA to experience such a feeling. The closest she could get to love was quite possibly obsession and that was a hard pass for her. The only thing she was completely committed to was her work. So, she shook off her confusing feelings, stored them in little boxes, and approached you.

“How’s it going?”                                                   *** Lena convinced you to take a break. Well it didn’t take much convincing. You truly liked Lena. She was a strong and admirable person that beat all odds stacked against her and tried to make a name for herself outside of the Luthor legacy. You also noticed several other things about her. Her skin was flawless except a lone freckle that adorned her neck. When she would get frustrated, she would always put her hair in a ponytail…and when she was with you, she blushed a lot. As you two were eating, you noticed how she would react when you compliment her work or tell her that she’s doing a great job. You also knew that something inside you was falling for this regal woman. She was utterly beautiful, gorgeous. Something about her perseverance was intriguing and what reeled you in was her personality. Working for her was the best decision you’ve ever made. She saved you in more ways than one.

Now that you knew that there was something between you, a spark of sorts, you began to devise a way to fan it into a flame.

“Ms. Luthor, would you like to help me paint?” you offered to her. Lena stuttered and then laughed.

“Oh no I don’t wish to be in the way,” she said with a mouthful of burger. “Besides I’m not wearing anything to paint in.”

That much was very true. She was dressed in formal wear with a blouse, a skirt, and her signature high heels. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you’re shrugging out of your flannel and offering it to her. Lena’s eyes grew big, her green orbs looking at your shirt and then at you in a tank top.

“I insist,” you encouraged.

Thirty minutes later, you had Lena wheezing from laughter. She insisted that she do the easier tasks like painting the bigger shapes while you take care of the detailed work. You were currently telling her this corny joke that you learned from social media and the next thing you knew, her face was as red as a lobster and she was clutching her stomach.

“Y/n, that was awful!”

You giggled and bowed for the job well done before turning back to your work. It didn’t take long for Lena to abandon her heels. She opted to work barefoot instead, her feet pale in comparison to the sidewalk. For several minutes, you worked in a comfortable silence until Lena called your name.

“Y/n?”

You turned just in time to see her flick some paint in your direction. The red droplets splattered into you neck and chest thickly and you couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped you. Lena laughed at your reaction, her hand coming up to hide her own sheepish smile. You were quick to recover, and you cracked your knuckles.

“Oh Luthor, it is on!”

You knew you had to be careful of her skirt, so you dipped your hand in blue paint and flicked your fingers towards her. Lena laughed boisterously as she used your flannel to shield herself. She ran away, ducking and weaving so she could avoid you, but that didn’t stop you from gently tackling her. You twisted your body so that she would land on top of you and you both laughed on the way down. When you finally calmed down, you’re aware that Lena isn’t laughing anymore. You open your eyes to see her staring into yours, her eyes wide with an emotion you couldn’t read, but you could see her vulnerability. Lena swallowed repeatedly, her eyes flitting from yours to you lips and back again. You smiled, your hand rubbing her back through her borrowed flannel.

“Lena?” you asked, and you swear you could feel her heart rate increase.

“Yes?” she whispered.

“I hope I haven’t read this evening wrong,” you began, your own nervousness manifesting itself as a shaky voice.

“But I’ve thoroughly enjoyed spending this time with you. And I hope-”

You paused, your throat suddenly dry. Lena placed her hands on either side of you head and you became increasingly aware of the fact that she was straddling you, her body heat seeping past your own layers of clothing to ignite your skin on fire.

“Yes, Y/n?” she asked, prompting you to continue.

“May I take you out on a date?”

“Yes!” Lena said quickly before she cleared her throat and chuckled in embarrassment.

“Yes,” she said again, attempting to be calm. “I would like that very much.”

You’re all smiles as you stood up and helped Lena to do the same.

“I know I pale financially in comparison to you-” you began, but Lena didn’t let you finish.

“I don’t care about that. Besides, money isn’t what made me fall in love with you,” she said before she slapped her hand over her mouth.

You’re speechless, your mind a literal Windows blue screen before you force it to reboot and form words.

“You love me?”

Now that the cat was out of the bag, there was no way Lena could go back. It was now or never. She knew that she put herself in this situation, this moment of vulnerability. Even now, she could feel herself build her walls and close herself from being exposed. It took everything in Lena to not do that, to not shut you out. Not everyone was Lillian or Lex, and everyday was a battle to not treat people the same way as they’ve treated her.

Lena couldn’t speak quite yet. All she could do was nod her head and not pass out from nervousness. Your heart soared and you held her hands.

“Lena,” was all you could say before you engulfed her in a hug. Lena gasped, her body freezing in shock before she hugged you back. And that’s the way you stayed for several minutes, locked in an embrace and feeling like you couldn’t get closer to the woman you loved no matter how hard you tried. Even with her in your arms, it wasn’t close enough. Holding her was as lovely as you thought it would be. Lena was not weak by any means. You could feel muscle definition beneath the clothes but still holding her, was like holding on to something so precious, that you couldn’t help but be gentle with her. Even you could tell that she was putting a lot into this, forcing herself to be vulnerable with you. You wouldn’t take it for granted.

It’s several more minutes before you’re able to release your hug, just enough to look into her eyes.

“Ms. Luthor, it’s a date then,” you said before kissing her sweetly on her cheek. You were rewarded with Lena’s vibrant red blush, her shaky fingers ghosting where your lips were. Maybe Luthors couldn’t love, but this Luthor was already breaking the mold just for you.

[sickficsies-and-whumpsies]

OOOOH GOD I JUST HAD A NEW IDEA.

If you can do both, I will be very happy.

So...

Nanami has a fever, he overworked himself during the last fight, and he is bound in his bed, trying to recover. He keeps dreaming of Gojo while he shifts from sleep to reality and feels like he is there with him but doesn't know if it's true. He has lots of delusions and hallucinations regarding Gojo breaking his heart and feels like he is slowly burning alive.

Also, I have to add this, if you are able to describe him as tiddies out, you would save my life. I thirst for Dilfs in pain.

“I THIRST FOR DILFs IN PAIN” HAD ME WHEEZING, HELP- oh man, I hope I put Nanamin through enough pain with this one, I did my best to depict his disorientation :D Have fun, I hope this is enough f*cked up!! All I want to say is... Sorry.

(TW in the tags)

///

The blurred digits danced across the tiny screen, forcing Nanami to squeeze his chestnut-brown eyes painfully. It read 40,1°C, or so he supposed. His fever-addled brain, while aware that he was, in fact, feverish, wasn’t quite in control of the body, eyes failing him.

The blond sighed, resigned, and moved to sit up on the bed with a pitiful groan. As soon as his torso was perpendicular to the mattress, a wave of dizziness made him flop back onto the firm yet comfortable surface, head spinning in a violent, overwhelming manner.

Nanami wanted nothing more than to reach for his phone, located on the neatly-arranged night stand, next to a book and a half empty glass of water. Just an arm-length away, maybe less, and yet, the man hadn’t enough strength in him to move that much. His limbs felt heavy, bones lined with lead, head filled with grey fog, eyesight faltering.  

“I jus’ need… to call in…” he murmured, not quite sure if he’d said that out-loud, either. The effort of turning his head to look at the phone left him breathless, disoriented; shaky fingers reached for it, barely a couple of centimeters above the mattress. Beads of sweat dripped down Nanami’s pasty face and he grit his teeth, summoning every last ounce of power left in him. 

If I could just warn someone, I would be fine. I just need to sweat this off. But I have to let Satoru know, or he’ll come bursting in here soon, and get himself sick. I don’t want that to happen, taking care of him is annoying. He is annoying when he’s sick. He is always annoying. I just need to let him know I’m fine. I just need to tell him not to come. I just一

He blinked his eyes open, startled. When had he closed them? 

Nanami allowed his vision to focus, albeit slowly and not entirely efficiently either, and noticed how his arm was stretched out toward the night stand, not quite touching it due to his slightly bent elbow. It just laid there, motionless, fingers barely twitching, not obeying his command.

The sorcerer inhaled a shallow, rasped breath, trying to coax his body into cooperating to reach that damned phone. 

He didn’t need Gojou to come, he needed him not to. He wouldn’t have come anyway, Nanami thought. He never did.

The sky-eyed man wasn’t a bad person. He wasn’t a bad boyfriend, Nanami knew it, he’d repeated that to himself so many times, too many times, trying to carve it into his brain, to learn it by heart. Gojou wasn’t a bad boyfriend.

He was simply… a not conventional one. 

More than once, Nanami had to remind him about their dates. More than once, he had to hint that his birthday was coming up, or that he’d asked him for a favour of any sorts一 not that he’d do that, Nanami was capable of doing everything on his own.

Maybe that’s why Gojou had never bothered to offer his help. Maybe it was out of admiration and reverence in regard of Nanami’s skills一 as a sorcerer and as a civilian, too一 that he’d never offered his help, nor helped unless strictly necessary. 

Nanami forced himself to shake his head, aware that he was dozing off again, thoughts swirling in his pounding, boiling brain. No, he needed to get the phone first, he needed to inform that he wouldn’t come, and that he… maybe, he could use some help. 

Gojou’s.

But he won’t come! he thought, bitter. He won’t come on his own. It’s not like him, he won’t come here, he won’t notice. I’m glad. He doesn’t need to worry, I’m fine. I’m happy that he’s not going to come, he doesn’t need to. I can handle a little cold. I don’t need to worry him. Not that he would. But it’s a good thing, because he一

A faint knock echoed through the neat apartment. Nanami opened his eyes一he’d closed them again, hadn’t he?一 and tried to pinpoint the source of the noise, curious. Certainly, something must have fallen from the table, maybe a spoon he’d left out of place.

“Spoons don’t sound like knocking when they fall, Nanamin~” someone purred from outside the door. Someone that Nanami knew, certainly. Someone that wasn’t supposed to be there, or rather, someone that he didn’t think was ever going to come.

“S-Satoru?” he croaked, weak. He wished that his technique allowed him to move objects with his mind, willing to unlock the door without, however, having the necessary strength to get up and walk the way to it. That would have meant crossing the bedroom, reaching the tiny corridor, walking through it and up to the genkan. He would have had to sit on the step at the entrance, slip his shoes on to walk the tiny distance between the wooden floor and the door, not wanting to soil his slippers.

Speaking of slippers, he didn’t know where he’d left them. He’d come home around midnight, after an extenuating fight. Nanami had wrapped everything up rather slowly, and once it was over, he barely waited for the EMTs to check him over before he gave up and walked the way home, in the freezing weather. 

The walk home, and the time from when he reached the doorstep to when he flopped on the bed, were a blur of flashes and thumping noises, voices and phones ringing, people yelling一 he’d left the TV on, he didn’t know how he allowed himself to make that mistake.

He, who would always reprimand Gojou for forgetting to turn the lights off, for not cleaning the bathroom mirror after he’d brushed his teeth, for leaving the spoon in the plate when he reheated food in the microwave. Nanami would always tell him off, tired of how careless Gojou acted, tired of how the other man seemed to have mistaken him for his personal butler, tired of一

“Nanamin, my poor Nanamin.” Gojou said, running a hand through the blond’s sweaty hair, letting his fingers cradle the mane and massage the scalp delicately, “All sick and lonely, my little Nanamin~” 

“You shouldn’t一” Nanami was caught off guard, wheezing as a painful dry coughed escaped his mouth and scraped his throat. Teary eyes glanced at the bottle on the dresser just a few meters away.

The mattress lifted and then dipped again. 

Nanami grabbed the glass of water that Gojou had filled for him, and drank greedily, letting the cold liquid soothe the agony, feeling the fog thin out in the slightest. 

“You shouldn't have come.” he finished, “You’re going to get sick too. You aren’t even wearing a mask, everyone knows that it’s necessary to protect yourself when you visit someone sick, Satoru.” he scolded, thin eyebrows furrowed on his damp forehead.

“You’re always so cold with me, Nanamin! Your lovely boyfriend came all the way here to watch you suffer, and you treat him like that? Cruel.” the white-haired man hummed, laying next to Nanami, not quite touching him. Truth is, he didn’t even seem to be willing to reach for the man.

Ah, Nanami reasoned, Infinity. Nothing gets through.

“I could deactivate it, Nanamin. The Infinity, you know, I could deactivate it and touch you. You want that, don’t you?” he teased, blinking at the ill man.

“Y-you don’t have to.”

Gojou laughed in that way that made his enemies’ skin crawl, so hollow yet light. Carefree, intimidating for just how genuinely amused he sounded.

“Oh, I wouldn't think about it, Nanamin.” he said, “It’s bad enough that you’re out of commission, we can’t have both of us out of the games.”

Nanami swallowed the dryness in his throat to no avail, averting his gaze just in the slightest, just enough to have that annoying, mocking grin out of his sight. “Good.”

“But you want me to touch you, right? You want me to care for you, you want to feel my breath on your skin, to bite into it with my teeth and let them sink in your neck, don’t you, Nanamin?” he whispered. Had he not activated the Infinity, Nanami would have been able to feel the ticklish warmth of Gojou’s breath on his ear, surely.

“It wouldn't be wise, since I’m sick.” he hummed, still not looking at Gojou. He couldn’t bear it.

Nanami couldn’t stand that cocky, teasing bastard, he couldn’t stand his malicious threats and offerings that he was then going to deny, he couldn’t stand the way Gojou referred to him and to himself, as if they were on widely different levels, as if Nanami was supposed, no, bound to do something to earn his boyfriend’s kindness.

“Go home, I’ll be fine.” he rasped out.

Leave. Please, leave. 

Was he going to cry? The fever was playing atrocious tricks on his mind and body, so Nanamin paid no mind to the sudden stinging sensation in his eyes, he didn’t care about his twitching chin and shaking hands.

“I know you will. I don’t need you to tell me you’ll be fine.” Gojou hummed, matter-of-factly, sounding almost offended at Nanami’s implication. Nanami himself really didn’t know what it was, though.

Was Gojou annoyed because Nanami had implied that someone like him could get worried? Or, was he mad because Nanami had implied that he was enough to make Gojou, of all people, worry? 

Both, probably.

“Then leave.” he hissed, heart hammering in his chest, head throbbing in the heat.

“I will.” 

“Good.” 

Gojou sat up, before a sweaty hand grabbed at his wrist, causing the man to cock a white eyebrow in what Nanami hoped wasn’t annoyance nor anger. Yet, he could tell it was.

“Do you even care?” he breathed out, eyes watery only because of the fever. “About me. Do- do you care? Did you ever...?”

The taller sorcerer grinned, features softening. “Of course I do, Nanamin. You’re one of the strongest sorcerers out there, how could I not care?” he purred, grabbing Nanami’s trembling jaw with his strong fingers, gaze penetrating.

Not reassuring in the slightest, either.

Nanami felt his face heat up, façade crumbling as hot tears welled at the corner of his blurry eyes. “Not- not as a sorcerer, Satoru!! Do you... care about me?”

The grip tightened, Gojou’s short nails leaving faint indents in his boyfriend’s cheeks, “Care how, Nanamin? What do you mean by care, what does care mean to you?” he grinned, shortening the distance between their faces, noses almost brushing against each other’s. 

“Y-you’re hurting me,” Nanami breathed out, faint, “Let go of m一”

“Say, Nanamin,” Gojou’s fingers dug deeper, grin growing wider, colder, “is it love you’re looking for? Is it what you’re asking me?”

The blond brought a shaky hand up, trying to pry Gojou’s hand away to no avail, too weakened by the debilitating fever, too shocked to act efficiently.

“Is it, Nanamin?”

“Y-yes.” he hiccupped, dry, voice barely above a whisper, his words whimpered and fragmented, “Do you love me? H-have you ever loved me?”

Gojou chuckled, licking his lips, “Of course I did, Nanamin. Of course. You’re so pretty, so strong… I would have been a fool not to love you, don’t you think?”

He did not let go.

“Do I not show you enough love, Nanamin? Do you not think I love you? Do you believe that I’m a bad boyfriend, Nanamin?” he asked.

Something in his tone wasn’t quite right. It sounded unfamiliar, having lost its arrogant edges, replaced with something that the blond couldn’t identify yet. And it creeped him out.

“N-no.” the ill one gulped, “It’s… S-sometimes, you don’t- I don’t think th-that you care. I, I feel like you don’t.” Nanami confessed, trembling.

“So you think I’m lying?” Gojou inquired.

“No!! I’m not- it’s not that.” 

“I think it is.”

Nanami shook his head vehemently, squeezing his eyes shut. He forced himself into a sitting position, willing the dizzy spell away, swallowing the bile that scratched the back of his tongue, ignoring how his shirt and bedsheets were soaked, ignoring the stale air in his room.

“P-please, Satoru, don’t一!!”

“It’s getting late, Nanamin.” Gojou sighed, clapping his hands once as he got up and stretched his legs, ignoring his boyfriend’s pleading look, ignoring his watery gaze and wet cheeks, ignoring the hand that feebly attempted to reach for his, uselessly.

“A-are you leaving me?” he sobbed, not caring about the snot that dripped down his fine nose, not caring about how pathetic and helpless he sounded. It was the fever.

“Is it not what you wanted me to do, Nanamin?” Gojou asked, hands deep in his pockets.

His eyes, clearer than the sky, bore a sour shade of regret, a glint of annoyance that Nanami prayed wasn’t addressed to him. Those eyes that looked down at him, on him, pissed.

“Y-yes, no, I don’t- I didn’t mean it l-like that, I meant一 please, wait, I’m not一”

“Goodbye, Nanamin.” Gojou muttered, headed for the door. He knocked Nanami’s glasses off the low dresser they were on, unconcerned, not bothering to pick them up.

The ill man faintly heard the door click in the distance again. Unfocused, bleary eyes scanned the room, because he couldn’t be gone, he couldn’t have left him like that, Nanami couldn’t believe that he did.

His gaze dropped to the floor, neat, untouched, glasses still placed on the dresser, the bottle still full of crystal-clear water.

Nanami could only breathe out a desperate whimper, a prayer for Gojou to come, for him to stop being so distant in every sense of the term. He wished and prayed, and fell into a restless slumber, plagued with other nightmares and suspected premonitions.

3/20/2021

[queercapwriting]

Hi Cap! I've really missed your weekly Sanvers drabbles. How about something cute with them doing a secret santa and they draw each other's name? Maybe they aren't even together yet but by the end of the gift exchange, they get a great/perfect gift plus a girfriend! :D

Maggie had no idea how her name even got added to this God-forsaken drawing, but she strongly suspected M’gann.

“Was this you?” she asked, halfway through her third round of beer. M’gann paused in wiping down the camera, face the picture of mild curiosity and innocence.

Maggie was pretty sure she knew better.

She flashed her phone toward the bartender, details of the DEO’s Secret Santa exchange on it. M’gann heaved the most affected shrug Maggie had ever seen.

“Was what me?”

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“It paired me with Danvers, M’gann. I suppose that was you, too?”

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about.” M’gann nodded at someone down on the other side of the bar. “But I did hear her sister talking about how much Danvers used to like surfing.”

Maggie most certainly did not picture Alex Danvers soaking wet in the ocean.

No, she most certainly did not.

+++

“Kara.” Alex was lying on her back in her little sister’s living room, with her feet up on the couch. An open box of pizza was sitting on her stomach. “What am I supposed to do?” 

“Maybe start with sitting up while you eat, Alex, you know what happened with that pop tart when you were a senior in high school.”

Alex scowled. “It was a defective pop tart.”

“Alex.”

“I don’t even know what kinds of things she likes.”

Kara plopped onto the couch and swiped the box of pizza off Alex’s stomach. Alex glared, but worked her way up onto the couch. She took the pizza box back.

“Sure you do, you’ve been spending all that time playing pool together at the bar. And working all those cases. You can’t possibly only talk about work, Alex.”

Alex squinted. “I mean, we pretty much can. And do. She... she’s from Nebraska. And she... likes aliens? Not like in a fetishizing way, I mean, just - it - and guns. She likes guns? Sort of? It’s complicated. But she does like scotch. And beer. And -”

“And you are not getting her an alien or a gun for Christmas, so maybe we can do more brainstorming.”

+++

“Danvers.” Maggie tried to keep her tone even the next day, working some scene or another with Alex. Normally, she’d know everything about everything about where she was and what she was doing. Today, she was coasting on prior knowledge and the ability to... well, to detect. 

Because if Alex Danvers was distracting under normal circumstances, well, knowing she’d have to give her a damn present at the end of the week was a whole new layer of brain scatteredness.

“Sawyer.” She thought maybe there was a smile in Alex’s voice - who did she get for Secret Santa? - but no, she was definitely projecting. Wishful thinking. Alex wasn’t even into girls. M’gann was being ridiculous. Sweet, but ridiculous. Because even if Alex was into girls, this was Alex damn Danvers. So far out of Maggie’s league.

“What’ve we got?”

She tried to follow Alex’s words rather than just the pitch of her voice and the way her body moved. The way she squinted her eyes almost like a glare when she was concentrating, or pushed her hair out of her face almost like she was annoyed by it when she was trying to see something closer. Or the way she licked her lips sometimes, and she’d probably taste like -

No, no, nope, absolutely not.

“So Danvers, um. Doing anything special for the holidays? You going home for Chanukah, or?”

“Pfft, no.”

Maggie tilted her head, but said nothing. She just passed Alex the dusting powder she’d been looking for, wordless, because more and more these days, they weren’t needing words.

Alex sighed. “My mom and I aren’t a great combination around the holidays. Especially since my dad’s been. Um, gone.”

“I’m sorry, Danvers.”

Alex smiled, more with her eyes than with her mouth. It made Maggie’s heart break and heal at the same time.

“We’ll get together when it’s not the holidays - less intense, less expectations. But I will miss the ocean. It’s always nice, going home to the ocean.”

Maggie watched something like regret flicker across her face. But only for a moment.

“What about you, Maggie? Going home?”

She ignored the way her stomach always flipped when Alex used her first name. When Alex just existed at all.

She made herself chuckle. “No, definitely not. Wouldn’t be welcome even if I wanted to. Home... home is wherever I happen to be at any given time, which is pretty much everywhere and nowhere all at once.”

“Sounds lonely.” Alex paused her analysis of whatever it was she was examining - Maggie had long since lost track of their scene - and met her eyes.

“Not all the time.” She said it while she held Alex’s gaze. She said it before she could think. Dammit. Now Alex was going to -

“Good. You don’t deserve to be lonely.”

Maggie wasn’t sure if she was grateful or enraged when the rookie she was training ambled up to them, asking for guidance on how to file one piece of evidence or another.

She thought Alex looked disappointed, but she was almost definitely projecting.

+++

“Merry holidays, Danvers.”

The sound of Maggie’s voice made her jump way too high to just be startled. She wished, not for the first time, that she had a much higher degree of chill around this woman.

“Sawyer.” Oh crap, did her voice squeak? Who was she, Winn? “What uh, what are you doing here?”

She glanced around the DEO like Maggie was about to be tackled by -

“Vasquez let me in.”

Ah. No tackling, then.

“Is everything okay, what -”

“Yeah, no, I just um. You’ve all got that holiday party thing tonight, and parties really aren’t my thing, so honestly, I’m gonna skip it, but I - I got put into that Secret Santa thing, and I got your name, so I just wanted to um -”

How Alex hadn’t noticed that Maggie had been holding something behind her back the whole time, she had no clue. Maybe because her hair was down, and she was fidgeting a little and it was more than a little bit cute, and -

“Happy Chanukah, Danvers. Or, Christmakuah, or whatever.”

She was pressing something into Alex’s hands, and she was smiling that little titled smile, and she was walking away, and -

“Wait, you’re not coming tonight?”

Maggie stopped but didn’t turn around, not all the way.

“They’re not really my thing, Danvers.”

“But how will you get the gift from whoever drew your name?”

“M’gann’s going. I asked her if she would -”

“I don’t want to give your present to M’gann.”

Dammit. Had she sounded desperate, or ridiculous, or -

Maggie turned fully around, now. “You drew my name, too?”

“Um. Yes. Merry Christmas?”

Maggie laughed. Alex tried not to hate how much she loved that sound.

“You’re not a party person? Fine. Take this -” Alex held out the package Maggie had pressed into her hands without looking at it. “And bring it to the bar tonight, before the party. We’ll exchange our gifts then. Okay?”

“Okay.”

+++

“You didn’t only enter my name in the damn pool, you arranged it so Alex and I would pull each other’s names?”

“Maggie, I really have no idea what you’re going on about, but I’d love it if you put some of those motorcycle mechanic skills to use on the ice machine right now,” M’gann said without looking at her, keeping her eyes on the garland she was stringing along the tops of the bar.

She thought about arguing with her only friend - well, maybe except Alex Danvers - in National City. She thought better of it, and contented herself to muttering under her breath while she fixed the ice machine and waited for Alex.

At least it gave her something to do.

“So you’re the person we all have to thank when M’gann can put ice in our drinks?”

Alex’s voice made her jump so hard she hit her head on the damn machine.

“Oh, Maggie, no, I’m sorry, come here.”

Before she could so much as say “ow,” Alex’s hands were on her, tracing the spot where Maggie had banged her forehead, so gently it was easy to forget how easily - and happily - this woman carried a gun.

Because of course - she was a doctor, too. Why wouldn’t she be a little bit of everything intoxicating?

“I’m okay, Danvers.”

“You’re okay when I say you’re okay,” Alex muttered, almost more to herself than to Maggie. But there was a small smile on her lips.

“Alright then. You think I’ll make it, doc?”

“Only time will tell. But you’re good enough for now to at least give me my present.”

Maggie hated the way it felt when Alex took her hands away from her. She would gladly conk her head and dignity on an ice machine every day if it meant Alex’s hands on her. Well. Maybe there were less painful ways... no. No no no nope. Just a gift exchange. Nothing more.

“So it’s pretty silly, really, but you said you miss the beach. So um.”

Maggie shoved the small package back into Alex’s hands and pretended not to hold her breath.

It turned out that watching Alex’s eyes mist over with the sensation of home was all Maggie wanted to do, like... ever.

“You like it?” she asked. Her voice didn’t sound like her own, but it also had never sounded more like her.

“Maggie,” Alex whispered. Maggie gulped, and smiled - because yeah, she’d actually done a pretty cool job.

It was a snow globe - sort of. Sand globe? Something. 

She’d commissioned Brian to make it - the artistry he pulled off planet tended to look like magic on Earth, and that was exactly what she’d been going for - he’d owed her more than a few favors, anyway.

The snow globe was an exact miniature of a beach, complete with seagulls and sand dunes and way too much seaweed accumulating on the shore. She hoped that maybe, it looked like home.

“If you put your hands on the glass, it should transmit -”

“How is that possible?” Alex asked. The awe in her voice told Maggie it was working. Maybe she was the one who owed Brian a favor, now.

Because if the look on Alex’s face was any indication, the sound and smells of the beach were flooding her senses through touching the glass - just like she was there.

“It’s not much, but it’s -”

“It’s perfect. Thank you. Thank you. It’s... you...” Maggie’s heart leapt. Alex cleared her throat. “You’re going to have to explain exactly how it works to me.”

“Nerd.”

“Wait!” Alex set the globe down reverently, reluctantly, it seemed, which made Maggie happier than she’d care to admit. “Your turn.”

She gingerly placed a little red bag onto the table between them, looking anywhere but Maggie’s eyes as she opened it.

“Do you like it?” Alex asked, way too soon. Because speaking was not something Maggie remembered how to do, just then.

It was a Triumph, a perfect little replica, with gears that Maggie could already tell actually worked. With a license plate that spelled home, with an earth label instead of a particular state. Maggie held it close to her face, examining it with a reverence she didn’t know how to explain.

“It works, of course. There’s a neural link, in the bag, that you can just kind of put on your temple, and you can drive it around with your thoughts, sort of. It’ll connect to your real life one, too, in case you ever need your bike to come to you. And it says home, you know, as planet earth instead of just one state because yeah, it can be really lonely to feel like nowhere is home, but I don’t want you to feel alone, or lonely, and it also means that you’re your own home, and that’s actually pretty badass, and amazing, because if you were my home, that would be amazing, and oh my God please make me stop talking now -”

“Danvers.”

“Oh, thank Rao.”

“Why did you do this for me?”

“Because you’re my Secret Santa?”

“Danvers.”

“Sawyer.”

Maggie wanted to ask if she could kiss her. She wanted to ask if she could kiss her, and not stop, and take her home, and kiss her some more. She wanted to ask if she could show her exactly how perfect she found Alex’s ridiculous rambling, how perfect she found... her.

She wanted to ask, but this was good, this was amazing, and if she asked, it would ruin everything, and -

And then Alex’s lips were on hers, because Alex Danvers was nothing if not act first, talk later. 

A whoop from across the bar sounded suspiciously both like Supergirl and Alex’s kid sister Kara. She smiled into Alex’s mouth.

“This is okay?” Alex asked, shyer than Maggie had ever heard her.

“Yes.”

“The present was good then?”

“The present isn’t why I’m kissing you, Danvers.”

Alex pulled back. “So it wasn’t good?”

“Oh my God, Alex, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

She leaned her forehead onto Alex’s, because as much as she needed to keep kissing her, she also needed to breathe. 

But it was the holidays, and they had motorcycles and beaches and each other, and there would be time for all of it.

“Worked better than mistletoe,” she thought she heard M’gann mutter, and honestly, she couldn’t disagree.